Post by SinclairGodfrey on Nov 21, 2022 20:52:38 GMT -5
In the cold darkness outside of the arena stood the heavily cloaked from of the one and only Baroness of Donzig-gun. Sinclair Godfrey wore a frown on her pretty face, eyes narrowed as she stared into the twinkling lights of the city in the darkness. She sniffed, and behind her lurked like two leashed monsters the hulking forms of the Oblivion Death Squad. They paced back and forth, faces hidden behind their masks as they seemed to ignore the cold. Sinclair lifted her head, and her hand raised to slowly flex her fingers before she spoke in a cold whisper.
'Julianna DiMaria. The Queen of Mean.'
A snort.
'I am not done with you yet, Julianna. But cracking you in the head with a chair for your--' a pause, her head tilted. '--insolence? Oh, that pleased me. That felt so good. I can't wait to do it again, so I will be waiting for whatever Spike and Goth leave of you after Edinburgh.'
The Baroness scowled, and her hand slowly slid inside of her long coat to draw forth the mask of the Scourge. She stared down at it, and that face seemed to twist with emotion before her other hand lifted to let fingers drag across the surface. Then she looked up and her normally calm face twisted with anger, and her eyes flickered as she let the mask drop to her side as fingers tightened on the cold metal.
'But first, we have some other unfinished business don't we, boys?'
The Death Squad snarled, and they stormed closer as Mormo spat something sharp and angry as his huge hand balled into a fist. Moloch growled, slamming his fist against his broad chest as he glared. Sinclair lifted a hand, fingers snapping before the Death Squad drew back a few steps though they were still clearly angry. And Sinclair shook her head, tsking.
'The Von Krauss Dynasty. What a pompous, arrogant boast from a man who can't even create an heir with that 'woman'. What you are is the Usurper's Dogs, what you are is a man desperate to prove himself to a woman beyond him. Do you worry the Scourge will take your place at her side? That the Usurper will soon realize that you are unfit to stand at her side? That you are too weak for the tasks at hand? Donzig doesn't care for the flesh? But power? Dominion? Control? These are his bread and wine, Armand.'
Sinclair gave a snort of laughter.
'And the Usurper offers them to him, and not you. How it must burn you, because you see I know you love her! You love her more then anything don't you, Armand? But you know us well, better then the Usurper. You know Donzig will let no one stand above him, that no one and nothing can share the heavens with the Chosen of the Void! That Death in High Places will rule alone, and that makes you afraid. That makes you weak, even more then your envy! Oh, I can read a heart as easily as the Scourge, Armand! Perhaps even more so, because I still remember what it is to be mortal! To be human.'
Sinclair lifted the mask again, and she frowned as she stared into those empty eyes.
'But that is where it ends. You see your weakness? This frailty in you? It makes you dangerous, it makes you unpredictable, a flaw in the designs of the Scourge! A flaw in our design, and so? Well, as we say in Donzig-gun an error becomes a mistake when you refuse to correct it. You and your little one-eyed farm boy have defied us for the last time! I will have my revenge on you for touching the Great Dark, we will have our revenge on you for laying hands on the Scourge! You will face the wrath of Donzig-gun.'
The Death Squad snarled in agreement, and then Moloch turned as a young man in a suit appeared. He nervously adjusted his small round glasses, holding up his hands one of which had a roll of papers. He stammered, and licked his lips before Sinclair scowled at him. Moloch ripped the papers from her hand, spitting something in his native tongue. The man practically ran away as Moloch handed the papers to the Baroness. She flipped through them, snorting before handing them to Mormo.
'Armand and Jakie's master has banned Donzig from Usher's Hall at the next Legacy. He cites his repeated attacks on Blood, his abuse of officials, and disruption of matches. We have been asked to stay away as well.'
Sinclair jerked her head in a nod, and Mormo lifted his hand with a snap of something. Flames ripped along the paper as he held it up, fire rolling across the stack before he dropped it to the ground. Sinclair's eyes were wild as they reflected the fire, and she stepped forward as the Death Squad flanked her as she gestured angrily.
'Do you think words will keep the three of you safe? Do you think these papers will hold back the Fall? Oh, no, no, no, we are inevitable! We are the future, and we are not to be denied. You have no power over us, and Death in High Places goes where he will! Because what are these papers to the will of a GOD? Jakie Wentzel. Armand Von Krauss. Sebastian Blood. The Void has called your name.'
Sinclair frowned.
'Ne po vijmë.' snarled Mormo.
'Ne jemi këtu.' growled Moloch.
'We are coming. We are here.'
Sinclair lifted her foot, and stomped on the burning papers before she ground them under her foot.
'See you soon.'
'Julianna DiMaria. The Queen of Mean.'
A snort.
'I am not done with you yet, Julianna. But cracking you in the head with a chair for your--' a pause, her head tilted. '--insolence? Oh, that pleased me. That felt so good. I can't wait to do it again, so I will be waiting for whatever Spike and Goth leave of you after Edinburgh.'
The Baroness scowled, and her hand slowly slid inside of her long coat to draw forth the mask of the Scourge. She stared down at it, and that face seemed to twist with emotion before her other hand lifted to let fingers drag across the surface. Then she looked up and her normally calm face twisted with anger, and her eyes flickered as she let the mask drop to her side as fingers tightened on the cold metal.
'But first, we have some other unfinished business don't we, boys?'
The Death Squad snarled, and they stormed closer as Mormo spat something sharp and angry as his huge hand balled into a fist. Moloch growled, slamming his fist against his broad chest as he glared. Sinclair lifted a hand, fingers snapping before the Death Squad drew back a few steps though they were still clearly angry. And Sinclair shook her head, tsking.
'The Von Krauss Dynasty. What a pompous, arrogant boast from a man who can't even create an heir with that 'woman'. What you are is the Usurper's Dogs, what you are is a man desperate to prove himself to a woman beyond him. Do you worry the Scourge will take your place at her side? That the Usurper will soon realize that you are unfit to stand at her side? That you are too weak for the tasks at hand? Donzig doesn't care for the flesh? But power? Dominion? Control? These are his bread and wine, Armand.'
Sinclair gave a snort of laughter.
'And the Usurper offers them to him, and not you. How it must burn you, because you see I know you love her! You love her more then anything don't you, Armand? But you know us well, better then the Usurper. You know Donzig will let no one stand above him, that no one and nothing can share the heavens with the Chosen of the Void! That Death in High Places will rule alone, and that makes you afraid. That makes you weak, even more then your envy! Oh, I can read a heart as easily as the Scourge, Armand! Perhaps even more so, because I still remember what it is to be mortal! To be human.'
Sinclair lifted the mask again, and she frowned as she stared into those empty eyes.
'But that is where it ends. You see your weakness? This frailty in you? It makes you dangerous, it makes you unpredictable, a flaw in the designs of the Scourge! A flaw in our design, and so? Well, as we say in Donzig-gun an error becomes a mistake when you refuse to correct it. You and your little one-eyed farm boy have defied us for the last time! I will have my revenge on you for touching the Great Dark, we will have our revenge on you for laying hands on the Scourge! You will face the wrath of Donzig-gun.'
The Death Squad snarled in agreement, and then Moloch turned as a young man in a suit appeared. He nervously adjusted his small round glasses, holding up his hands one of which had a roll of papers. He stammered, and licked his lips before Sinclair scowled at him. Moloch ripped the papers from her hand, spitting something in his native tongue. The man practically ran away as Moloch handed the papers to the Baroness. She flipped through them, snorting before handing them to Mormo.
'Armand and Jakie's master has banned Donzig from Usher's Hall at the next Legacy. He cites his repeated attacks on Blood, his abuse of officials, and disruption of matches. We have been asked to stay away as well.'
Sinclair jerked her head in a nod, and Mormo lifted his hand with a snap of something. Flames ripped along the paper as he held it up, fire rolling across the stack before he dropped it to the ground. Sinclair's eyes were wild as they reflected the fire, and she stepped forward as the Death Squad flanked her as she gestured angrily.
'Do you think words will keep the three of you safe? Do you think these papers will hold back the Fall? Oh, no, no, no, we are inevitable! We are the future, and we are not to be denied. You have no power over us, and Death in High Places goes where he will! Because what are these papers to the will of a GOD? Jakie Wentzel. Armand Von Krauss. Sebastian Blood. The Void has called your name.'
Sinclair frowned.
'Ne po vijmë.' snarled Mormo.
'Ne jemi këtu.' growled Moloch.
'We are coming. We are here.'
Sinclair lifted her foot, and stomped on the burning papers before she ground them under her foot.
'See you soon.'
