Post by Désir Obéis on Oct 26, 2007 22:39:26 GMT -5
Désir Obéis, that great hulk of once-glossy sable fur, came upon the Dajleeng river to remind himself just how wonderful it was to be free of the burden of Amora’s Sacred Law that she bound all her Servants to. True, there were ways to get around it—and he had, by making every one of his toys into a willing victim over time—but it was still a hinderance to have to hide his oh-so-fun pastimes from the rest of his stupid, weak peers.
Hopefully, now, that would change. Obe peered out of golden eyes sunken deep into his skull, looking nothing so much like the very spectre of death, and grinned sardonically. Oh, the poor little Servants, what would they do without him to break them down, make them realize their innermost fears, the very bane of their existence? Of course, he was still going to do just that—he simply needed to do it far more quickly than he was able to while still a Servant.
Foolish little babies. He snorted, sitting at the edge of the river and watching the murky depths within. He’d heard, when the Servants who had come to harry him on his way out of the Shimmerwood were screaming curses at him, that some of his toys hadn’t survived the last ordeal he’d put them through—the one he’d gotten caught at. Of course, he didn’t want them to survive, but that was beside the point. The point was that it was utterly unfair for them to punish him for doing what his toys had wanted him to do. But then, what made it ever so sweeter was the fact that what he had wanted, his toys had wanted, as he had trained them to.
With a snicker, he waded into the shallows of the Dajleeng river and waited for the predators to come. And come they did, of course—one very large riverfish darted directly for him. Obe jumped up out of the water, and when the fish took the bait he snapped them up between his jaws, crushing their pitiful little skull. The fish flapped from left to right for a moment before they died, their blood running hot through his mouth. Yes, death was beautiful and bitter and wonderful—especially when it happened to someone other than yourself.
Ah, yes, evil had a taste, and it was sweet.
Sweet, in fact, like strychnine.
Hopefully, now, that would change. Obe peered out of golden eyes sunken deep into his skull, looking nothing so much like the very spectre of death, and grinned sardonically. Oh, the poor little Servants, what would they do without him to break them down, make them realize their innermost fears, the very bane of their existence? Of course, he was still going to do just that—he simply needed to do it far more quickly than he was able to while still a Servant.
Foolish little babies. He snorted, sitting at the edge of the river and watching the murky depths within. He’d heard, when the Servants who had come to harry him on his way out of the Shimmerwood were screaming curses at him, that some of his toys hadn’t survived the last ordeal he’d put them through—the one he’d gotten caught at. Of course, he didn’t want them to survive, but that was beside the point. The point was that it was utterly unfair for them to punish him for doing what his toys had wanted him to do. But then, what made it ever so sweeter was the fact that what he had wanted, his toys had wanted, as he had trained them to.
With a snicker, he waded into the shallows of the Dajleeng river and waited for the predators to come. And come they did, of course—one very large riverfish darted directly for him. Obe jumped up out of the water, and when the fish took the bait he snapped them up between his jaws, crushing their pitiful little skull. The fish flapped from left to right for a moment before they died, their blood running hot through his mouth. Yes, death was beautiful and bitter and wonderful—especially when it happened to someone other than yourself.
Ah, yes, evil had a taste, and it was sweet.
Sweet, in fact, like strychnine.
