04-26-2020, 10:10 PM
By then, a moderate congregation of comrades manifested in the bag's vicinity. In the minutes that'd passed, the canine's outlook on the situation had not changed in the slightest. His fundamental judgment mirrored that of Aurum's - the return of the masks came across as a peace offering of sorts. Cynical, it was, how the marks of slaughtered Tanglers were sent to their home in an effort to attain peace.
In suit of his initial arrival and the subsequent emergence of other individuals, dialogue had established itself betwixt those who'd turned up. The Proxy expressed his aforementioned judgment, to which Leroy inaudibly nodded in response. After the tribe's brief stint to the Pitt's territory a couple months back, appeasing their mightier enemies was a completely logical course of action. The General saw through the their feeble endeavour, however. Past actions spoke volumes. The likelihood of this being a ploy to lower the tribe's guard was higher than not.
Additional dialogue composed of a question prompted by Dr. Caustic which regarded the mask's interior contents. The wolfhound himself intended to answer, yet his Crow had beaten him to it. The alabaster feline went on to question Kydobi's motive, a thought shared by the majority who were present. In response to the alabaster feline, Kiira proposes 'respect' as a plausible rationale. This causes the male's brows to furrow by a slight margin.
"Respect ain't somethin' that runs in the Pitt," he replies in a dead tone of voice. "If they had an ounce of respect, they wouldn'ta been proudly hoistin' these up in the first place." Similarly to Crow, a good figure of the masks were ones he recognized. He hadn't been able to make out each and every individual one from a distance whenever external affairs took him to Pittian lands; but now that they lay less than a metre before him, the memories of fallen tribemates surged through his mind. Many emotions were felt in a manner of seconds, yet sadness was not one of them. "Knowin' them," he continues indifferently, "this is either a shitty peace offering (like Aurum suggested), or a phony one. Old habits die hard, and I've seen enough of their underhanded ways to know what's goin' on."
A question then arises from Beck. A question pertaining to the masks' fate, and whether he could help out in a burial process. Leroy's earthen eyes fixate on Beck's, offering an empathetic gaze. Out of everybody here, the spectral child was arguably able to identify the most of the masks, having been the group's founder. "I promise, Beck, that you'll play a hand in handlin' the masks," he says in the best warmhearted voice he could muster, "though I can't really tell what I wanna do with 'em." This was true. In addition to burying, a plethora of other options for managing the masks were at his selection. "We could definitely bury 'em," he quickly reassures, "or we could adourn the tavern in 'em. The tavern's a place for parties, and since the partyin' spirit is a trait all Tanglers share, I think it'd be equally as respectful to hang 'em from the walls in a commemorative fashion."
"What's your guys' input?" he asks, turning to everyone else, "do we bury 'em in memorial, or do we pay tribute to 'em by elevatin' 'em in the tavern high enough for everyone to see?"
In suit of his initial arrival and the subsequent emergence of other individuals, dialogue had established itself betwixt those who'd turned up. The Proxy expressed his aforementioned judgment, to which Leroy inaudibly nodded in response. After the tribe's brief stint to the Pitt's territory a couple months back, appeasing their mightier enemies was a completely logical course of action. The General saw through the their feeble endeavour, however. Past actions spoke volumes. The likelihood of this being a ploy to lower the tribe's guard was higher than not.
Additional dialogue composed of a question prompted by Dr. Caustic which regarded the mask's interior contents. The wolfhound himself intended to answer, yet his Crow had beaten him to it. The alabaster feline went on to question Kydobi's motive, a thought shared by the majority who were present. In response to the alabaster feline, Kiira proposes 'respect' as a plausible rationale. This causes the male's brows to furrow by a slight margin.
"Respect ain't somethin' that runs in the Pitt," he replies in a dead tone of voice. "If they had an ounce of respect, they wouldn'ta been proudly hoistin' these up in the first place." Similarly to Crow, a good figure of the masks were ones he recognized. He hadn't been able to make out each and every individual one from a distance whenever external affairs took him to Pittian lands; but now that they lay less than a metre before him, the memories of fallen tribemates surged through his mind. Many emotions were felt in a manner of seconds, yet sadness was not one of them. "Knowin' them," he continues indifferently, "this is either a shitty peace offering (like Aurum suggested), or a phony one. Old habits die hard, and I've seen enough of their underhanded ways to know what's goin' on."
A question then arises from Beck. A question pertaining to the masks' fate, and whether he could help out in a burial process. Leroy's earthen eyes fixate on Beck's, offering an empathetic gaze. Out of everybody here, the spectral child was arguably able to identify the most of the masks, having been the group's founder. "I promise, Beck, that you'll play a hand in handlin' the masks," he says in the best warmhearted voice he could muster, "though I can't really tell what I wanna do with 'em." This was true. In addition to burying, a plethora of other options for managing the masks were at his selection. "We could definitely bury 'em," he quickly reassures, "or we could adourn the tavern in 'em. The tavern's a place for parties, and since the partyin' spirit is a trait all Tanglers share, I think it'd be equally as respectful to hang 'em from the walls in a commemorative fashion."
"What's your guys' input?" he asks, turning to everyone else, "do we bury 'em in memorial, or do we pay tribute to 'em by elevatin' 'em in the tavern high enough for everyone to see?"