[ Post a Response | Desreal ]
Posted by THE PAGAN on February 26, 2009, 4:16 pm, in reply to "BABYLON SISTERS, SHAKE IT; [strandwolf, wicked, cyan, aquila, memphis]" She is his minion, and when he calls, she must come. Of course she is standing smack dab in the middle of Andarin when the call comes, because where else would she be? Where does she ever go? Her safe and small life is all she has known until now, but it is about to be ripped apart at the seams, and she feels it coming as surely as she feels the power of the shard pressing on the back of her mind. For the first time since she got wrapped up in this whole mess, Wicked can taste fear, coppery like the taste of her own blood, on her tongue.
129.7.254.33
Go to Icarus, Wicked manages to choke to Freya before her feet gather themselves under her of her own volition and then propel her forward with speed she did not know she had in her tired body. There is a sense of urgency in the call she feels, and it is made all the more insistent by the malice that bubbles up inside her unbidden, burning her eyes and the back of her throat, turning her vision red. By the time she has reached Desreal, it has become clear what she has come here to do, and though fear still lingers in the back of her mind, it is caged and suppressed by the anger and bloodlust that has been forced upon her.
She slows when she spots Alcatraz, a wicked grin spreading over her face as she witnesses the lightning that flashes across the sky. It makes her Earth roar and rear its ugly head, dying to show his weaker element how it is done. But she is in his control, and for now she is reserved, letting him do his thing. When she draws up beside him, she lets her nose skim slowly over his haunches, dragging a slow trail up to his shoulder, inhaling the smell of blood and filth and delicious power. The lightning flashes. The Earth roars. The shard tells her to kill and she obeys.
Wicked taps into her abilities without even thinking, her Earth raging to push the Lightning out of the way, to destroy it. The ground begins to shake under the weight of the shard-driven rage. After being immobilized by The Savage’s Blitzstrahl, he will now be off-balance and disoriented by her mighty Earthquake, the shaking anger of the Earth itself. With a sound between a scream and a cackle, she springs forward, feeling the rush of battle overwhelm her. It has been a long time since she last delighted in the crack of bone. She takes her time in circling him, her feet unencumbered by the shaking ground as his will be, and just as she draws up on his other side, her feet lash out. Both of her large, stony, Friesian hooves sail with all her bodily momentum toward his forelimb. Take out his legs. Take him to the ground. Bash his head in.
Continuing her slow and steady pace, she circles back towards Alcatraz again, her devilish grin never leaving its place. Her graceful beauty is marred by the evil that courses through her body. Nearing the soon-to-be helpless victim, she opens her mouth, breathes on him, and unleashes her Narcotics. Are you getting sleepy, pet? she thinks with a smile. Paralysis, lack of balance, and now confusion and drowsiness. Strandwolf does not stand a chance.
Come, my friends, my fellow minions. Finish him now, or I will do it myself.
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