Post by Tapi on Aug 25, 2015 16:09:07 GMT -5
She is beyond furious. There's no word to describe what she feels. Only that it makes her skin crawl and itch and shift from flesh to smoke and burn like the sun.
The Cult Leader is pissed.
In all the years she's lived, been a creature that even the boogeyman would fear, she never once thought of those rotten humans as a threat. Never once coward when someone mentioned the Puppeteers. No, Tapi simply scoffed and continued stealing souls and going about her own business.
And then they invaded. That lecherous traitor of a coward weaseled his way into her cult, into her good graces and took his stupid hammer and smashed everything to ruin. She had plans, had things she needed the cult for and he'd made a mess of them. Brought in his Masters and let everything burn in a way she had never wanted it too.
The yellow glow of their fire is a sickening sight to the woman so used to the cool blue of her own.
As the humans crawl about her manor she leaves a small wisp of her smoke in the lock to her room. It won't keep anyone out but it will let her know who enters- and she prays someone does. The room, normally a mess despite how little there is in it, is barren now save for her bed and some old books she took from Problem's study. She's trapped it with the little magic her mentor taught her, made it so that anyone walking in won't notice her smoke filling and burning their lungs until it's too late. A small gift to the meatsacks invading.
Having done all this she flee's to the woods. Not to hide but to watch and wait. An ever moving mass of smoke across the woodland floor that occasionally flickers open orange and blue eyes.
It's when she feels something happening to the souls of her Cultists that Tapi, in a rage induced fury, burns down the trees surrounding the manor. She's been stretching herself in a circle around it, keeping watch over everything and that disgusting feeling of their souls being ruined makes her turn everything she can touch into ash. By the time she's calmed there's a black ring of tree's and even more souls are showing their owners dead or missing.
They're yours. Says a voice in the back of her mind. They're yours and you're letting them go. Don't let them leave- you need them. And it's that voice, that voice that tickles the back of her mind constantly, that has her reforming, her body still a mass of smoke but now with her flame burning high and bright over a hooded head.
She's waited long enough.
The Cult Leader is pissed.
In all the years she's lived, been a creature that even the boogeyman would fear, she never once thought of those rotten humans as a threat. Never once coward when someone mentioned the Puppeteers. No, Tapi simply scoffed and continued stealing souls and going about her own business.
And then they invaded. That lecherous traitor of a coward weaseled his way into her cult, into her good graces and took his stupid hammer and smashed everything to ruin. She had plans, had things she needed the cult for and he'd made a mess of them. Brought in his Masters and let everything burn in a way she had never wanted it too.
The yellow glow of their fire is a sickening sight to the woman so used to the cool blue of her own.
As the humans crawl about her manor she leaves a small wisp of her smoke in the lock to her room. It won't keep anyone out but it will let her know who enters- and she prays someone does. The room, normally a mess despite how little there is in it, is barren now save for her bed and some old books she took from Problem's study. She's trapped it with the little magic her mentor taught her, made it so that anyone walking in won't notice her smoke filling and burning their lungs until it's too late. A small gift to the meatsacks invading.
Having done all this she flee's to the woods. Not to hide but to watch and wait. An ever moving mass of smoke across the woodland floor that occasionally flickers open orange and blue eyes.
It's when she feels something happening to the souls of her Cultists that Tapi, in a rage induced fury, burns down the trees surrounding the manor. She's been stretching herself in a circle around it, keeping watch over everything and that disgusting feeling of their souls being ruined makes her turn everything she can touch into ash. By the time she's calmed there's a black ring of tree's and even more souls are showing their owners dead or missing.
They're yours. Says a voice in the back of her mind. They're yours and you're letting them go. Don't let them leave- you need them. And it's that voice, that voice that tickles the back of her mind constantly, that has her reforming, her body still a mass of smoke but now with her flame burning high and bright over a hooded head.
She's waited long enough.