exsilium | second rune; death; video

[When the feed starts, the netbook's camera shows you a view of the forest floor. A deer carcass lies among the grass and twigs, and it's obvious that the poor thing did not have a clean death. It's in the advanced stages of decomposition, even though the blood around its body is red and fresh. The camera does not linger on this image for more than a few seconds; it pans upward, to show Koltira's face.

He's standing over the deer, holding the device in one hand, holding Byfrost with the other. Agony creases his expression: his jaw is clenched, his eyes narrowed, every muscle in his pale, sallow face is taut with pain. The guttural growl of his voice occasionally rises in octave as he talks, as though something is beating the shit out of him from the inside.]

Were we brought here to fight for something, or to waste time reliving the past? Send. Us. On. A mission.

[He stabs the tree next to him with Byfrost, and the sword glows sickly green; the tree bark begins to decay rapidly, as though it's practically melting. Diseased fumes pour out of the bark, forming a nasty miasma around Koltira's body.]

I need a battle. [he hisses, and blood trickles from the corner of his mouth as he bites down on the inside of his cheek.] Now.

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[What. The. Hell.

Is that a...yeah that's a deer. Okay. Lovely. And it's been...oh all right then.

Have a remarkably displeased Chloe giving you a look of judgment. Not only for the gore, but because you look a lot like those god awful guardians that nearly tore them all apart in Shambhala.]

Jesus. Who let you out of the asylum?

I don't know how it works where you come from, but asking like that isn't likely to get you any sparring partners.

[he glares back at her, because who asked you, strange woman.]

I am not asking to spar. I need a real opponent. [in other words, someone he can kill honorably, but also painfully.]

.... [She really needs a minute to process that, brotira.]

Oh. So you're asking for a suicidal volunteer. That's rich.

I'm sure they'll be lining up in no time.

[A spasm of pain. He groans, makes a 'hnnnggh' sound from the back of his throat.]

You continue to misunderstand.

You go on the net asking for a fight after tearing an animal to bloody pieces.

No, you're absolutely right; there's no understanding that at all.

[you are so lucky that you're not in range of a death grip rn, Chloe. He hisses at her.]

Did you fail to listen to the introductory speech when you were brought here, or do you simply enjoy making inane, foolish remarks?

Oh I heard it loud and clear.

You were brought here to kill, and because you've spent god knows how long here without being sent off to war you're slowly losing what marbles you've got left. Nevermind the fact that you look more unstable than a thousand year old ruin, which would make you a dangerous soldier to ship out considering all the damage you'd cause if you snapped.

[U LOOK LIKE A CREEPY KILLER OK. -750 rep. She don't like you.] Try some yoga. Drink a hot beverage. Get counseling.

Then maybe they'll call you off to stab a few of our so-called enemies.

Edited 2012-08-11 04:47 (UTC)

[yoga? counseling? do you think you are talking to a depressed teenager right now, Chloe? Do you hear the strains of Dashboard Confessional piping through the netbook? The cold-fire blue of his eyes blazes, flaring at the edges.]

Yes, I am unstable--as you would be, were your body betraying you!

[Oh, well. That's interesting. She stops for a moment to consider this.

As for the emo bit: yes. Yes she does. Have some Linkin Park.]

'Betraying you'. Interesting choice of words.

Just what are you, exactly? Not a guardian, I hope...

[a what? he might've asked her to clarify that term if he wasn't, you know, losing his mind etc. Instead he glosses over it and gets down to brass tacks.]

I am Koltira [grrk ...] Deathweaver. Knight of the Ebon Blade. [somehow it makes him feel a bit better to announce that. It is his identity, after all. Exhale, exhale.]

[Deathweaver. Knight of the what...wait, knight? Jesus christ. There's no way this is legit.

It's crazy.

It's a prank.

But he does look hurt. Really hurt. You know what, she's seen crazier things. Not much crazier. Actually, no, he's still pretty crazy, but he also looks like he's about to vomit up his insides. So she'll try to dial it down for the moment.]

All right so...what. You're not dying or anything, are you?

[Heh. Oh, Chloe, you're so hilar. Cue the bitter smile.]

That would be difficult, my lady, as I am already dead, and have been for some time.

[Eyewtitch.]

Let's...just say for a moment I actually believed that. The only thing that will make this better is killing?

[it doesn't matter if you believe it or not, WOMAN.]

Battle.

All right, all right. Easy.

What can we do, then? You can't expect the people that brought us here to help you; they're only in it for themselves, trust me. You'll need some other alternative, and you've gotta leave the battle to the death bit behind.

I don't expect anyone to help me. I don't want help. I want the war that I was told we were fighting!

[grrnnhhh it. HURTS. Hang on one sec while another wave of pure agony rolls through him. There may be some horrible noises on the line.]

--it ... doesn't need to be death. It needs to be--agony.

[Worse? Probably worse.]

They're not listening, love.

[It's said gently, at least. Jesus Kolt. You're a mess.]

Any chance this will pass without turning into some kind of a horror flick? We could always try drugging you.

They are listening. They just don't care to respond. [groans. Worst headache ever.]

I cannot think of a tincture powerful enough to quell this, but it will be -- it will most likely be fine--I just need to ... I need to control it. I need to build a tolerance.

Well if that's the case maybe it's best I stop distracting you, yeah?

You are the first wise person I've spoken to all night, my lady.

I rather like the sound of that.

If you ever manage to get things under control, you'll have to fill me in later.

Difficult to do, without a name for the face.

Chloe. Chloe Frazer.

I'm called Koltira Deathweaver. I would say 'well met', but it would have little ring of truth to it ... [a sharp, hissing intake of breath.] .. through no fault of your own.

Understandable given the circumstances. Good luck keeping a lid on it.

second rune; death; video

Video foreverrrr

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