(no subject)
Characters: Vincent Valentine, Lilisette, Rishfee.
Progress: Incomplete.
Summary: Yet another nasty emerges within Caedarva Mire.
Location: Deadmist Marsh, Caedarva Mire.
Date: May 24th.
Warnings: bitchiness, lamia, merrow, belly dancing, ickyickyicky, violence, screw the army just throw hellmasker at the undead swarm, transformations, chainsaws, more icky, dead stuff.
Rishfee was not happy, pleased, or even okay with the fact Vincent and Lilisette were actually forming quite an efficient tag-team at the objective of forcing him into things. And his hand was certainly forced in this matter. Neither of them seemed to have understood his sentiment that fighting the Lamia in numbers, when numbers could be turned against you, was not a good thing. In fact, more than likely to be their downfall. Yet he had yielded, on the condition at least that his last moments wouldn't be spent witnessing Vincent coming for him. That had been decided by giving Vincent the Merrow's locket -- something which made him impervious to any of the Lamia's ability to charm.
He made his way through the mire silently- more silently than usual. He begrudged this. Immensely so. So much that his mood was darkened, he was not eager to say anything, nor forthcoming with answers. He merely spent his time using his own lamiae abilities within the mire; checking the general direction of what were almost sisters to the majority of him -- the side of him which was not anything close to human. His footsteps made no sound amongst the wildlands; silence finally broken by a sound of surprise and an inclination of his head toward the marsh.
...There was a tree right within the center of it.
And it was enormous.
Progress: Incomplete.
Summary: Yet another nasty emerges within Caedarva Mire.
Location: Deadmist Marsh, Caedarva Mire.
Date: May 24th.
Warnings: bitchiness, lamia, merrow, belly dancing, ickyickyicky, violence, screw the army just throw hellmasker at the undead swarm, transformations, chainsaws, more icky, dead stuff.
Rishfee was not happy, pleased, or even okay with the fact Vincent and Lilisette were actually forming quite an efficient tag-team at the objective of forcing him into things. And his hand was certainly forced in this matter. Neither of them seemed to have understood his sentiment that fighting the Lamia in numbers, when numbers could be turned against you, was not a good thing. In fact, more than likely to be their downfall. Yet he had yielded, on the condition at least that his last moments wouldn't be spent witnessing Vincent coming for him. That had been decided by giving Vincent the Merrow's locket -- something which made him impervious to any of the Lamia's ability to charm.
He made his way through the mire silently- more silently than usual. He begrudged this. Immensely so. So much that his mood was darkened, he was not eager to say anything, nor forthcoming with answers. He merely spent his time using his own lamiae abilities within the mire; checking the general direction of what were almost sisters to the majority of him -- the side of him which was not anything close to human. His footsteps made no sound amongst the wildlands; silence finally broken by a sound of surprise and an inclination of his head toward the marsh.
...There was a tree right within the center of it.
And it was enormous.