07-25-2017, 03:55 PM
Ebony lay flat on the ground; the surface was softened slightly by her cloak, but not by much. Vulre's conviction frightened and confused her. Why? Why doesn't he show any remorse? How can live with himself? How can he stay happy through all of this? In her mind, he was undoubtedly a monster. To show pride in his "work", to call that abomination "justice". So what if his targets also hurt people? Him mirroring their actions was just as bad in her eyes, and demanding money for it just put the icing on the cake. Ebonywood Hellscythe came up against bad guys in her adventures, but her methods were much more moral. More good. While fictional, Ebony still used the persona as a basis for her reasoning.
"T-that doesn't mean you have to... have to k... k-k-kill them." Her objections fell on dead air as she stumbled over and pushed out the hostile word. Vulre was already gone from her limited line of sight, hidden by the sides of her pulled up hood. "You could have... you could..." Her voice trailed off as her head fell back to the ground while she hugged her scythe closer.
Clang.
Metal smacked against the white floor making Ebony flinch. Her muscles ached from all the unanticipated movement, she felt sick - her empty stomach gurgled, upset by the jerking motions. She lurched forwards, placing one hand on her chest and keeping the other on the warm scythe. The taste of a vile acid filled her mouth as she fell back yet again. Struggling, Ebony lifted her head slightly to peer over the velvet cloak folds of her hood, her eyes flickered to the corner of her vision.
Metal armour. Morene.
"T-that doesn't mean you have to... have to k... k-k-kill them." Her objections fell on dead air as she stumbled over and pushed out the hostile word. Vulre was already gone from her limited line of sight, hidden by the sides of her pulled up hood. "You could have... you could..." Her voice trailed off as her head fell back to the ground while she hugged her scythe closer.
Clang.
Metal smacked against the white floor making Ebony flinch. Her muscles ached from all the unanticipated movement, she felt sick - her empty stomach gurgled, upset by the jerking motions. She lurched forwards, placing one hand on her chest and keeping the other on the warm scythe. The taste of a vile acid filled her mouth as she fell back yet again. Struggling, Ebony lifted her head slightly to peer over the velvet cloak folds of her hood, her eyes flickered to the corner of her vision.
Metal armour. Morene.