06-05-2015, 02:59 AM
Millie had asked the mustached man if he was associated with the child he had seen on the screen, but honestly, he hadn't identified her as anyone he found to be of high beaurocracy.
"My... Allegiance?" Hatred seethed as the spice of malice was palpable in the sweating anger that poured from his face. He detested authority, corruption, conformity, and any suggestion of it just pushed his buttons.
Meanwhile, someone from the television had appeared in the room. It was the ones the two he had spoken to had been rooting for. Ah, that's a shame. Behemoth thought with a "Tsk."
...
Behemoth was reminded of the girl's still-presence by the clattering of glass, which broke in sharp shards beneath his toes and splashed fluid on his black shoes. The drink had soaked into his socks and made them squishy to step, yet the Secondary merely shrugged off the sensation and fixed his eyes on the man who had caused this. It could have been perceived as an attack, or a challenge, however the man went with the notion that women were feeble creatures and perhaps Millie was just having a rough week.
He gave the green eyed man an 'I saw it was you' accusatory tilt of his chin, before narrowing his eyes and thinking about Karl, his Prime's odds, and the one bleak solution to the game: Death.
While Behemoth was not clumsy, the glue that had held the fake furbrow to his lip had fallen and came loose with the shattered glass. To cover this up, he sneezed, but made no effort to strain into the many witnesses minds, at least for the time being.
Yet another TV contestant had arrived in the room, by now, Behemoth's bone-chilling had been turned down a bit. He had gone from a phantom to a mere shadow of an apparition.
The girl seemed to be recovering from her still wounds, yet Behemoth distinctly recalled the youth's interaction with his number one competitor. He took another glance at the screen, that showed different faces of those who still remained. The mustache-less Behemoth weighed his options and decided it might be fun to go have a talk with the girl. As he approached, he sat next to her with a snickering smile, yet turned his glance toward her, only to find her asleep.
He was beginning to think it dull, however he figured after bloodbath island she deserved a good rest, and that was when he was surprised to see her suddenly crying. He had zoned out for a good portion of the hour, doing strange calculations in his head, and suddenly the child's sorrow had pulled him from his mindnumbing numbers. He thumbed through his own thoughts and considered quelling the girl's tears, for even monsters had a weakness for young children who had enough courage to join such a ruthless show; he realized he could change her memories, but he could not change the feeling behind her tears.
"My... Allegiance?" Hatred seethed as the spice of malice was palpable in the sweating anger that poured from his face. He detested authority, corruption, conformity, and any suggestion of it just pushed his buttons.
Meanwhile, someone from the television had appeared in the room. It was the ones the two he had spoken to had been rooting for. Ah, that's a shame. Behemoth thought with a "Tsk."
...
Behemoth was reminded of the girl's still-presence by the clattering of glass, which broke in sharp shards beneath his toes and splashed fluid on his black shoes. The drink had soaked into his socks and made them squishy to step, yet the Secondary merely shrugged off the sensation and fixed his eyes on the man who had caused this. It could have been perceived as an attack, or a challenge, however the man went with the notion that women were feeble creatures and perhaps Millie was just having a rough week.
He gave the green eyed man an 'I saw it was you' accusatory tilt of his chin, before narrowing his eyes and thinking about Karl, his Prime's odds, and the one bleak solution to the game: Death.
While Behemoth was not clumsy, the glue that had held the fake furbrow to his lip had fallen and came loose with the shattered glass. To cover this up, he sneezed, but made no effort to strain into the many witnesses minds, at least for the time being.
Yet another TV contestant had arrived in the room, by now, Behemoth's bone-chilling had been turned down a bit. He had gone from a phantom to a mere shadow of an apparition.
The girl seemed to be recovering from her still wounds, yet Behemoth distinctly recalled the youth's interaction with his number one competitor. He took another glance at the screen, that showed different faces of those who still remained. The mustache-less Behemoth weighed his options and decided it might be fun to go have a talk with the girl. As he approached, he sat next to her with a snickering smile, yet turned his glance toward her, only to find her asleep.
He was beginning to think it dull, however he figured after bloodbath island she deserved a good rest, and that was when he was surprised to see her suddenly crying. He had zoned out for a good portion of the hour, doing strange calculations in his head, and suddenly the child's sorrow had pulled him from his mindnumbing numbers. He thumbed through his own thoughts and considered quelling the girl's tears, for even monsters had a weakness for young children who had enough courage to join such a ruthless show; he realized he could change her memories, but he could not change the feeling behind her tears.
![[Image: -Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif]](http://images6.fanpop.com/image/photos/35600000/-Gildarts-fairy-tail-35651033-300-180.gif)
"I have never met a strong person with an easy past." -Atticus