(no subject)
Who: lionbeforelambs and nishimono
What: Frostmourne hungers...and Riful wants to watch it eat.
When: RIGHT NOW
Where: In Town
Rating: PG-13, maybe R depending how things go -- Gore and soulswiping inside
Damn that Banshee.
Ever since he had lost her in the trees, his chest had tightened to an unbearable, wrenching agony. Initially, he had dismissed it as his fiery temper taking its time to cool down. How wrong he was. It didn't take long for Frostmourne to snarl in anger and demand satisfaction for what it had given its host. Every moment Arthas didn't obey, Frostmourne tugged at his soul a little harder.
While he hadn't enjoyed his initial conversation with this Riful woman, she knew much more of Paradisa than he did, and she obviously had an interest in him. That was fine -- he could use that until he was more comfortable. Her prompting lead him to where he was, dark cowl obscuring his face save for his wispy platinum blond hair -- not yet white from Frostmourne's abuse of his body. Hardened green eyes peered out before him, waiting for her to appear.
The townspeople were close -- he knew, thus Frostmourne knew. Every moment he chose to spend waiting for Riful to appear caused him another moment of agony, and his temper rose.
It was going to be a long night.
What: Frostmourne hungers...and Riful wants to watch it eat.
When: RIGHT NOW
Where: In Town
Rating: PG-13, maybe R depending how things go -- Gore and soulswiping inside
Damn that Banshee.
Ever since he had lost her in the trees, his chest had tightened to an unbearable, wrenching agony. Initially, he had dismissed it as his fiery temper taking its time to cool down. How wrong he was. It didn't take long for Frostmourne to snarl in anger and demand satisfaction for what it had given its host. Every moment Arthas didn't obey, Frostmourne tugged at his soul a little harder.
While he hadn't enjoyed his initial conversation with this Riful woman, she knew much more of Paradisa than he did, and she obviously had an interest in him. That was fine -- he could use that until he was more comfortable. Her prompting lead him to where he was, dark cowl obscuring his face save for his wispy platinum blond hair -- not yet white from Frostmourne's abuse of his body. Hardened green eyes peered out before him, waiting for her to appear.
The townspeople were close -- he knew, thus Frostmourne knew. Every moment he chose to spend waiting for Riful to appear caused him another moment of agony, and his temper rose.
It was going to be a long night.