11-13-2018, 02:27 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 600px; padding: 10px; height: auto; overflow: auto;"][div style="width: 550px; padding: 0px; line-height: 13px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 9pt;"]Well, this was turning out to be quite a meeting, wasn't it?
It was obvious to even a creature blind as him that Sephiroth thought himself better than everyone else. Perhaps pharaoh was suiting for him; the historical aspect of the word told that any with the title was a "god," and yet it seemed as though the lion before him was trying far too hard to fit into that. The complex was plain, easy to spot, for it was practically thrust upon the whole of the Rosebloods. Sephiroth was a god and ethereal and he would do whatever he could to make that known. Bubonicplague almost laughed. Almost.
The demon sat alone at the back of the room, blind gaze fixed solely upon the joke of a leader standing over a corpse. He could smell the blood in the air, the rank stench of death filling the room. Sacrifices. Gods, or Aspects, whatever they wanted to be called. The beast couldn't have cared less about them. If they wanted to be pleased so badly, they could go fuck themselves; that always helped, didn't it? Bubonicplague had never understood why mortals were so dedicated to the spirits that claimed themselves as deities. As otherworldly and terrifying as he was, Sephiroth was certainly not a very smart man.
He had dealt with his fair share of divine beings. He was created from the palm of Baphomet, a servant of the devil, truly a being deserving of the otherworldly description. The Aspects, this "Ignis" did not frighten him. Perhaps a deal had been struck between the silver lion and whatever spirits were so keen on dedication. Perhaps for power. Perhaps just to make him as scary as he tried so hard to be.
Bubonicplague let out an audible snort at everything said, and the attempt on Sephiroth. A for effort, he supposed, but if the pharaoh was truly as powerful as he tried to appear, Jailbird was in for an ass kicking. Of course, only if everything about the lion checked out. Maybe the kid would pull through. Bub couldn't find it in himself to particularly care, though. He simply rose from where he had sat by the entrance, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled a black cloud. "What a fucking joke," the beast rumbled out, before turning and lumbering away.
It was obvious to even a creature blind as him that Sephiroth thought himself better than everyone else. Perhaps pharaoh was suiting for him; the historical aspect of the word told that any with the title was a "god," and yet it seemed as though the lion before him was trying far too hard to fit into that. The complex was plain, easy to spot, for it was practically thrust upon the whole of the Rosebloods. Sephiroth was a god and ethereal and he would do whatever he could to make that known. Bubonicplague almost laughed. Almost.
The demon sat alone at the back of the room, blind gaze fixed solely upon the joke of a leader standing over a corpse. He could smell the blood in the air, the rank stench of death filling the room. Sacrifices. Gods, or Aspects, whatever they wanted to be called. The beast couldn't have cared less about them. If they wanted to be pleased so badly, they could go fuck themselves; that always helped, didn't it? Bubonicplague had never understood why mortals were so dedicated to the spirits that claimed themselves as deities. As otherworldly and terrifying as he was, Sephiroth was certainly not a very smart man.
He had dealt with his fair share of divine beings. He was created from the palm of Baphomet, a servant of the devil, truly a being deserving of the otherworldly description. The Aspects, this "Ignis" did not frighten him. Perhaps a deal had been struck between the silver lion and whatever spirits were so keen on dedication. Perhaps for power. Perhaps just to make him as scary as he tried so hard to be.
Bubonicplague let out an audible snort at everything said, and the attempt on Sephiroth. A for effort, he supposed, but if the pharaoh was truly as powerful as he tried to appear, Jailbird was in for an ass kicking. Of course, only if everything about the lion checked out. Maybe the kid would pull through. Bub couldn't find it in himself to particularly care, though. He simply rose from where he had sat by the entrance, rolled his shoulders, and exhaled a black cloud. "What a fucking joke," the beast rumbled out, before turning and lumbering away.
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I AM THE END OF ALL THINGS.
I HAVE SEEN THE FALL OF BABYLON.
I HAVE DRUNK THE BLOOD OF KINGS.
I HAVE SEEN THE FALL OF BABYLON.
I HAVE DRUNK THE BLOOD OF KINGS.