04-29-2018, 04:39 PM
Shantotto, a small woman with a sprightly spirit and an energetic twinkle in her eye. She claimed to be sent to assist the Espada in his own endeavor. Therein lies the key word, "Assist", and yet here she was taking the initiative upon her own rather minuscule shoulders. "Interesting", he'd muse quietly to himself, his light steps following close the little one as she ventured forth into the city. His eyes following the little lady as she gave relief to the poor citizens waiting around near the palace. Some of these were among the group he had led to Nippur earlier. The guards were not doing their jobs. His eyes would catch movement in his upper peripherals causing his eyes to glance up towards the night sky, noticing the lacking of a certain element sprinkled upon the sky's blackened canvas. "What was it... what is it?", he'd mutter, his gloved hand cupping the edge of the jaw.
What was it? The stellar object that burned furiously in the black of the night, bathing all in its incandescent light? "Stars...", he'd answer quickly, squinting at the thick veil stretching up into the sky. The light of his eye would follow the veil down to its root, a building only a few blocks away. He'd frown and move closer to the little one, bending down to tap her softly upon the shoulder, unaware of the question she had previously "Let the guards handle the civilians. We may have bigger issues to deal with.", he'd suggest before stepping through the small group of civilians, shrugging off the various hands that would grasp upon him. Where there's smoke there's a fire. The civilians could afford to stay cold or hungry for a few hours. A city left to ravaging flames would suffer a great deal more.
The small mage would waddle up behind the Arrancar, keeping up with his quick pace. "Look. A dense smoke rises from that building ahead of us.", he'd say softly, motioning to the smoldering ruins.
"The destruction upon that building is without parallel. Perhaps a skirmish occurred here, from what I can tell.", the brown nosed one chirped pleasantly, her voice flowing like a musical piece.
Serraph couldn’t help but smile at the little one.
“Don’t get any ideas, my dear”, a familiar voice commanded. The sound itself was comforting, softening the motherly scolding, but the words themselves brought a wave of exhaustion over him. The Servant of the King turned his head, but nothing was there. No one was there. It surely wasn’t the bite sized one, the one who speaks solely in rhyme. He’d cradle his head, his gloves rubbing away at his eyes. He’d move off the road to the closest building, catching the eye of Shantotto
“Serraph, why do you halt? Perhaps an ailment is at fault.”
His hand clutched at the bandages wrapped tightly around his wound. The deep gash still bled even after all this time. The rags and tattered clothing used to make the bandaged dripped with thick ink. By the time he finished, his gloves were dyed a pitch black. He dared not turn around to the tiny woman her heard approaching behind. Laying eyes upon such a wound would likely serve a distraction later. Working within a smoldering ruin where fire could easily return to ravish all within its confines would be a grave ordeal should their minds not be in tip top shape. Perhaps he didn’t give the lady enough credit, after all they had just only met.
“I suffered a wound prior to arriving here. The sword of a traitor nearly ended my journey here to Nippur.”, he’d state, channeling his supply of Omnilinium through his arms, concentrating its colorful light within the tips of his fingers. He’d drag his fingers over the wound, their tips sparking with a myriad of colorful sparks. These sparks would collect over his wound and trail around his body, creating a tightly wound bandage. Only when his wound was concealed did he turn, even if the portion of the bandage covering the wound was already darkening from his ink.
It would seem his exhaustion had unlocked another of his traits. When he looked upon the short mage he saw a bit more than what she appeared. She held great power wrapped compactly into that tiny frame of hers. As the silver of his eyes dug ever deeper, he’d recognize the nature of her power, a power not so different from his own. He’d smile weakly and slowly reached for the hilt of his blade.
“Do not be alarm. His other hand would extend to his side, the palm of which outstretched. He’d grasp at the pale hilt of his rapier and pulled but a small portion from it. Revealing its paper-like construction. “Record, Libro”, he’d mutter, the pale white of the blade brightening. The pale light of the blade would flake away and flow to the area in front of his open palm, coalescing into an object whose silhouette brought a twinkle to Shanty’s eye. The light would fade and disperse. Shantotto’s Star Rod now resided in Serraph’s grasp.
The bite sized mage would stroke her chin, her eyes scanning over rods appearance. Of course it was a bit bigger than her own. One could even consider it a staff rather than a simple rod. However every other detail remained the same. From the gold trim to the opal sphere that radiated with magic power, it was identical to Shantatto’s tool of magical destruction.
They stood there for what seemed an eternity, but eventually the little one would admit defeat, albeit in her own personal way. She’d recoil and laughter, her arms crossing with a black glove of leather raised to perhaps shield those nearby of her menacing laugh.
“Ohohoho! Serraph, how studious you are! Continue to perfect your work and then with me you’ll perhaps be on par!”
Serraph would smile and bend respectfully at the waist in jest at the response to her applause. He’d rise and chuckle to himself his left hand gripping a hold of the ebony shaft, he’d prop a portion of his weight upon it. Weakened he was but true rest will have to wait for later.
“My apologies m’lady, we may continue. To that crumbling ruin our visit was long overdue.”
What was it? The stellar object that burned furiously in the black of the night, bathing all in its incandescent light? "Stars...", he'd answer quickly, squinting at the thick veil stretching up into the sky. The light of his eye would follow the veil down to its root, a building only a few blocks away. He'd frown and move closer to the little one, bending down to tap her softly upon the shoulder, unaware of the question she had previously "Let the guards handle the civilians. We may have bigger issues to deal with.", he'd suggest before stepping through the small group of civilians, shrugging off the various hands that would grasp upon him. Where there's smoke there's a fire. The civilians could afford to stay cold or hungry for a few hours. A city left to ravaging flames would suffer a great deal more.
The small mage would waddle up behind the Arrancar, keeping up with his quick pace. "Look. A dense smoke rises from that building ahead of us.", he'd say softly, motioning to the smoldering ruins.
"The destruction upon that building is without parallel. Perhaps a skirmish occurred here, from what I can tell.", the brown nosed one chirped pleasantly, her voice flowing like a musical piece.
Serraph couldn’t help but smile at the little one.
“Don’t get any ideas, my dear”, a familiar voice commanded. The sound itself was comforting, softening the motherly scolding, but the words themselves brought a wave of exhaustion over him. The Servant of the King turned his head, but nothing was there. No one was there. It surely wasn’t the bite sized one, the one who speaks solely in rhyme. He’d cradle his head, his gloves rubbing away at his eyes. He’d move off the road to the closest building, catching the eye of Shantotto
“Serraph, why do you halt? Perhaps an ailment is at fault.”
His hand clutched at the bandages wrapped tightly around his wound. The deep gash still bled even after all this time. The rags and tattered clothing used to make the bandaged dripped with thick ink. By the time he finished, his gloves were dyed a pitch black. He dared not turn around to the tiny woman her heard approaching behind. Laying eyes upon such a wound would likely serve a distraction later. Working within a smoldering ruin where fire could easily return to ravish all within its confines would be a grave ordeal should their minds not be in tip top shape. Perhaps he didn’t give the lady enough credit, after all they had just only met.
“I suffered a wound prior to arriving here. The sword of a traitor nearly ended my journey here to Nippur.”, he’d state, channeling his supply of Omnilinium through his arms, concentrating its colorful light within the tips of his fingers. He’d drag his fingers over the wound, their tips sparking with a myriad of colorful sparks. These sparks would collect over his wound and trail around his body, creating a tightly wound bandage. Only when his wound was concealed did he turn, even if the portion of the bandage covering the wound was already darkening from his ink.
It would seem his exhaustion had unlocked another of his traits. When he looked upon the short mage he saw a bit more than what she appeared. She held great power wrapped compactly into that tiny frame of hers. As the silver of his eyes dug ever deeper, he’d recognize the nature of her power, a power not so different from his own. He’d smile weakly and slowly reached for the hilt of his blade.
“Do not be alarm. His other hand would extend to his side, the palm of which outstretched. He’d grasp at the pale hilt of his rapier and pulled but a small portion from it. Revealing its paper-like construction. “Record, Libro”, he’d mutter, the pale white of the blade brightening. The pale light of the blade would flake away and flow to the area in front of his open palm, coalescing into an object whose silhouette brought a twinkle to Shanty’s eye. The light would fade and disperse. Shantotto’s Star Rod now resided in Serraph’s grasp.
The bite sized mage would stroke her chin, her eyes scanning over rods appearance. Of course it was a bit bigger than her own. One could even consider it a staff rather than a simple rod. However every other detail remained the same. From the gold trim to the opal sphere that radiated with magic power, it was identical to Shantatto’s tool of magical destruction.
They stood there for what seemed an eternity, but eventually the little one would admit defeat, albeit in her own personal way. She’d recoil and laughter, her arms crossing with a black glove of leather raised to perhaps shield those nearby of her menacing laugh.
“Ohohoho! Serraph, how studious you are! Continue to perfect your work and then with me you’ll perhaps be on par!”
Serraph would smile and bend respectfully at the waist in jest at the response to her applause. He’d rise and chuckle to himself his left hand gripping a hold of the ebony shaft, he’d prop a portion of his weight upon it. Weakened he was but true rest will have to wait for later.
“My apologies m’lady, we may continue. To that crumbling ruin our visit was long overdue.”
"Mine eyes hath seen the glory of the presence of my Lord. He is sifting through the treasures in which his Gates of Wrath does store. He lets loose the righteous vengeance of his terrible swift swords. Gilgemesh has returned!"