08-22-2018, 11:04 PM
(This post was last modified: 08-22-2018, 11:05 PM by NUI HARIME.)
[table][tr][td][/td][td]
Snow crunches softly underfoot. She treads lightly, willing her presence not to be noticed by the Pittians. Not because of fear-- there is no shred of respect in her being for infantile life forms. They mean dirt to her-- She'd rather not be bothered with creatures who try much to hard to be feared (and fail miserably.) Like children who stayed up far past their bedtime, and grew obscenely grandoise and self centered ideas. There was no hate to be had. No fear. Only a cold, calm indifference.
Either way, she cannot be interrupted this fine evening. She has a place to go. A face to see, and a plan to set into motion.
She was there at the meeting. Had seen the ferocious savagery of rage sink into Izuku's gaze like ink upon paper as he charged for Stryker. Lurking beneath that dragon, was an untappered well of cruelty. A gold mine. Soft gold, waiting to be molded into a tool that could be used to slice the neck of the enemy.
And she knew the cause of that deep, insurmountable disdain he displayed earlier.
Friendship and love was a powerful motivator. And she learned long ago to never underestimate it, as icky as such sappy sentiment was. Things that pumped through the veins. Made the heart go thump thump thump. With tenderness and both rage alike. Emotions were like tornados; they came in and swept you off your feet if you didn't know how to handle them. Even greater still they could be used as weapons.
Kirishama's capture. Snowbound's fall at the banquet hall. That was all the proof she needed.
It was easy to see. Easy to read like an open book, and she knew just how to make the emotions of others work for her.
She was no actress. But she was good at lying, and lying to herself. All it would take was a little nudge in the right direction. Approach him as the helpless and frustrated gal, itching to bring retribution to the Pittians that they hated so, and the spark would be lit.
The Polarheart stood before Izuku's cabin, steeling herself. Her posture stooped, body trembling with barely restrained rage and helplessness, twinkling eye muted like a flame put out. Perfect. Not too over the top. Not too subtle either. The perfect image of a strong willed gal struggling with the feeling of uselessness.
Her paw raps upon the door quietly. Time to nurture the flame.
"Izuku? May we talk? I worry... for Snowbound and Atbash," bubbly voice gone. Still pitched and feminine, yet replaced with deep faux sincerity. She could only ease herself into this. Start with a genuine, earnest sounding topic. Express rage and hopelessness. Suggest ways to combat it in only the way that oppressed civillains knew how. Fighting back, and doing so with a vehemenance.
[member=183]izuku[/member]
[/td][/tr][/table]
SNOWBOUND
FEMALE
POLARHEART
FEMALE
POLARHEART
[div style="width: 360px; font-family: verdana; color: #FB9B85; text-align: left; padding-top: 15px; padding-left: 10px"]I AM IN CONTROL!
Snow crunches softly underfoot. She treads lightly, willing her presence not to be noticed by the Pittians. Not because of fear-- there is no shred of respect in her being for infantile life forms. They mean dirt to her-- She'd rather not be bothered with creatures who try much to hard to be feared (and fail miserably.) Like children who stayed up far past their bedtime, and grew obscenely grandoise and self centered ideas. There was no hate to be had. No fear. Only a cold, calm indifference.
Either way, she cannot be interrupted this fine evening. She has a place to go. A face to see, and a plan to set into motion.
She was there at the meeting. Had seen the ferocious savagery of rage sink into Izuku's gaze like ink upon paper as he charged for Stryker. Lurking beneath that dragon, was an untappered well of cruelty. A gold mine. Soft gold, waiting to be molded into a tool that could be used to slice the neck of the enemy.
And she knew the cause of that deep, insurmountable disdain he displayed earlier.
Friendship and love was a powerful motivator. And she learned long ago to never underestimate it, as icky as such sappy sentiment was. Things that pumped through the veins. Made the heart go thump thump thump. With tenderness and both rage alike. Emotions were like tornados; they came in and swept you off your feet if you didn't know how to handle them. Even greater still they could be used as weapons.
Kirishama's capture. Snowbound's fall at the banquet hall. That was all the proof she needed.
It was easy to see. Easy to read like an open book, and she knew just how to make the emotions of others work for her.
She was no actress. But she was good at lying, and lying to herself. All it would take was a little nudge in the right direction. Approach him as the helpless and frustrated gal, itching to bring retribution to the Pittians that they hated so, and the spark would be lit.
The Polarheart stood before Izuku's cabin, steeling herself. Her posture stooped, body trembling with barely restrained rage and helplessness, twinkling eye muted like a flame put out. Perfect. Not too over the top. Not too subtle either. The perfect image of a strong willed gal struggling with the feeling of uselessness.
Her paw raps upon the door quietly. Time to nurture the flame.
"Izuku? May we talk? I worry... for Snowbound and Atbash," bubbly voice gone. Still pitched and feminine, yet replaced with deep faux sincerity. She could only ease herself into this. Start with a genuine, earnest sounding topic. Express rage and hopelessness. Suggest ways to combat it in only the way that oppressed civillains knew how. Fighting back, and doing so with a vehemenance.
[member=183]izuku[/member]
© MADI