[log] I am what I want you to want, what I want you to hear.
Characters; Rishfee (immortal_lion) / OPEN to Valora citizens.
Setting/Location; Cafeteria.
Date & Time; day three.
Warnings; TL;DR. And a slight bit of angst, his perception of what happened on his world is completely jacked due to dying before massive plot twists happened.
Briefing; I told you Rishfee wanted tea. :'(
Rishfee sat in the fifth sector; the cafeteria. The room was deserted, which to some would be strange but to the Immortal lion completely normal. Chemical spills were chemical spills after all. It was only the fact that he could avert the need to respire altogether with Blue magic which pertained as to why he graced this sector with his presence rather than hiding in cabins alike Valora's conscripted.
...That and the fact he'd managed to procure from the shops a tea very alike Aht Urhgan's chai tea. Whereas it would most likely be thrown out as trash in Whitegate. Most likely he'd never find anything quite as good as anything Whitegate could supply to those on the wages of an Immortal, but that really was of little concern. This would do. He'd managed to get here, take advantage of the fact that the place was empty enough to prepare it in the kitchens and move to a table to spend time with his own thoughts.
His own thoughts were all that he had.
He couldn't say that he had enough faith in anyone here to bother with anything but mild curiosity- the soldiers and civilians were all alike. He'd managed to percept that; no matter the rank they were all equally as clueless. They would never be Amnaf or Raubahn, or anything like them. ...They would never be trusted, let alone cared about; not really. Nor were they real enough to be regarded as anything like Naja Salaheem or the Wildcat mercenary.
He couldn't say his thoughts were pretty, that was the only problem- but they were everything. Really; he'd rather put up with Waudeen's half-sane ramblings than deal with them currently, lest he end up exactly like her.
And ah-- they were back. A sharp wave of almost-pain consumed the Immortal for the smallest of moments, a memory of looking over the top of the rooftops in Whitegate with Raubahn... or Raubahn's alias, Waoud. returning. Amnaf was nearby and he was laughing with his Captain and surrogate father; laughing at the Qujirn below on the streets commencing with the act of ripping off the "tourists" (aka mercenaries) brought in from the middle-lands. The middle-landers always fell for the same thing.. Their pittance of pay always conned out of them by the sharp-witted Qujirn before they'd even walked halfway to Serpentking square to recieve the Empire's Sanction en-route to get their necks broken by the savages which lurked beyond Al Zahbi's walls.
Raubahn and Amnaf were probably together on that street now; heads severed and strung high thanks to his failure to protect the Empress when it mattered. The Imoortals... they were a unit established to protect the Empress whereas mortals couldn't. That was the reason they were created, the reason they existed as monsters free to act with the Empire's blessing.... yet he couldn't even live up to that, couldn't even harness the powers given to him appropriately to protect her. ...All of the Immortals would have all been killed upon the news of the Empresses death. He'd failed. Therefore, they'd failed.
Silently, he poured himself more tea while trying hard to not let memory resume. ...Monsters couldn't cry. He knew that, but he didn't know why he felt like he could.
Setting/Location; Cafeteria.
Date & Time; day three.
Warnings; TL;DR. And a slight bit of angst, his perception of what happened on his world is completely jacked due to dying before massive plot twists happened.
Briefing; I told you Rishfee wanted tea. :'(
Rishfee sat in the fifth sector; the cafeteria. The room was deserted, which to some would be strange but to the Immortal lion completely normal. Chemical spills were chemical spills after all. It was only the fact that he could avert the need to respire altogether with Blue magic which pertained as to why he graced this sector with his presence rather than hiding in cabins alike Valora's conscripted.
...That and the fact he'd managed to procure from the shops a tea very alike Aht Urhgan's chai tea. Whereas it would most likely be thrown out as trash in Whitegate. Most likely he'd never find anything quite as good as anything Whitegate could supply to those on the wages of an Immortal, but that really was of little concern. This would do. He'd managed to get here, take advantage of the fact that the place was empty enough to prepare it in the kitchens and move to a table to spend time with his own thoughts.
His own thoughts were all that he had.
He couldn't say that he had enough faith in anyone here to bother with anything but mild curiosity- the soldiers and civilians were all alike. He'd managed to percept that; no matter the rank they were all equally as clueless. They would never be Amnaf or Raubahn, or anything like them. ...They would never be trusted, let alone cared about; not really. Nor were they real enough to be regarded as anything like Naja Salaheem or the Wildcat mercenary.
He couldn't say his thoughts were pretty, that was the only problem- but they were everything. Really; he'd rather put up with Waudeen's half-sane ramblings than deal with them currently, lest he end up exactly like her.
And ah-- they were back. A sharp wave of almost-pain consumed the Immortal for the smallest of moments, a memory of looking over the top of the rooftops in Whitegate with Raubahn... or Raubahn's alias, Waoud. returning. Amnaf was nearby and he was laughing with his Captain and surrogate father; laughing at the Qujirn below on the streets commencing with the act of ripping off the "tourists" (aka mercenaries) brought in from the middle-lands. The middle-landers always fell for the same thing.. Their pittance of pay always conned out of them by the sharp-witted Qujirn before they'd even walked halfway to Serpentking square to recieve the Empire's Sanction en-route to get their necks broken by the savages which lurked beyond Al Zahbi's walls.
Raubahn and Amnaf were probably together on that street now; heads severed and strung high thanks to his failure to protect the Empress when it mattered. The Imoortals... they were a unit established to protect the Empress whereas mortals couldn't. That was the reason they were created, the reason they existed as monsters free to act with the Empire's blessing.... yet he couldn't even live up to that, couldn't even harness the powers given to him appropriately to protect her. ...All of the Immortals would have all been killed upon the news of the Empresses death. He'd failed. Therefore, they'd failed.
Silently, he poured himself more tea while trying hard to not let memory resume. ...Monsters couldn't cry. He knew that, but he didn't know why he felt like he could.