10-27-2018, 09:36 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 11px; color;"]( [member=2172]ISABELLE M.[/member] sorry for the delay!! i've been busy with my thesis but i'm finally finished <33 )
Curfew, to Agathe, was a suggestion. She did not fear what dwelled within the darkness nor did she doubt her capabilities as a warrior. If somebody thought foolishly enough to challenge her in combat, she was confident - perhaps too confident - that she would emerge victorious. She was too battle hardened to believe any differently at least. But tonight, on a night that would usually be spent under the moon, contemplating and mediating, she was pacing restlessly in the Observatory. The chill of fall had long since infiltrated their walls and subconsciously, Agathe found herself thanking the multi faced goddess for blessing her with such a thick pelt. It at least kept that creeping cold away.
It did not, however, cause that antsy buzz in her blood to dissipate, her unyielding desire to tear into flesh and splinter bone a pressing matter in the back of her head. As much as she enjoyed this domesticated lifestyle free of senseless death and not nearly as much responsibility, she had been bred to be a weapon and that subconscious fear that her edge was dulling quite possibly was the source of her recent restlessness. She'd release a sigh, golden eyes blinking a few times as she paused only to drink in her surroundings. Most of her clanmates had already succumbed to sleep but that didn't make that strange and unnatural urge to suddenly converse lessen any. Perhaps her mind though socialization would keep her violent tendencies at bay, perhaps it was just desperate to distract her enough that they disappeared on her own.
Whatever the reason, Agathe did not stop pacing. She wouldn't until she had good enough reason to... Hopefully somebody, anybody, was shaken from sleep and decided to find her.
Curfew, to Agathe, was a suggestion. She did not fear what dwelled within the darkness nor did she doubt her capabilities as a warrior. If somebody thought foolishly enough to challenge her in combat, she was confident - perhaps too confident - that she would emerge victorious. She was too battle hardened to believe any differently at least. But tonight, on a night that would usually be spent under the moon, contemplating and mediating, she was pacing restlessly in the Observatory. The chill of fall had long since infiltrated their walls and subconsciously, Agathe found herself thanking the multi faced goddess for blessing her with such a thick pelt. It at least kept that creeping cold away.
It did not, however, cause that antsy buzz in her blood to dissipate, her unyielding desire to tear into flesh and splinter bone a pressing matter in the back of her head. As much as she enjoyed this domesticated lifestyle free of senseless death and not nearly as much responsibility, she had been bred to be a weapon and that subconscious fear that her edge was dulling quite possibly was the source of her recent restlessness. She'd release a sigh, golden eyes blinking a few times as she paused only to drink in her surroundings. Most of her clanmates had already succumbed to sleep but that didn't make that strange and unnatural urge to suddenly converse lessen any. Perhaps her mind though socialization would keep her violent tendencies at bay, perhaps it was just desperate to distract her enough that they disappeared on her own.
Whatever the reason, Agathe did not stop pacing. She wouldn't until she had good enough reason to... Hopefully somebody, anybody, was shaken from sleep and decided to find her.
[font=arial][color=#510205][size=16pt]WATCH IT [i]GROW[/i], CHILD OF WAR
[align=center][div style="margin-top: -9px; font-size: 10pt"][color=black][font=helvetica]agathe ashyver | the ascendants | astral seraph | tags