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originally posted in:The New Dojo
Edited by Xeno:
6/25/2017 12:22:33 AM
1
[i]Soon after she had rested upon the wooden bench, it still groaned as if something of greater weight than Victoria sat upon it. The wind blew coolly, invading the minuscule openings of Victoria's armor and brushing against her flesh. But the wind held some queer aspect to it. It was almost as if it was blowing in preset patterns rather than merely abiding nature and what was natural. The wind was being manipulated. The wind was changing. Soon, Victoria could sense something preternatural. Something vile. Something of the Warp.
Incandescent fingers traced the grooves and shape of Victoria's skull, and incomprehensible whispers sung in a choir of foreboding. Naturally, Victoria clasped her Bolter, but a thought crossed her mind: What could flesh and steel do to a denizen of the Immaterium? The simple answer was through The Emperor, she would prevail. But what has The Emperor and faith gotten her? Thought after thought reoccurred in her psyche, until something else drew her attention. An esoteric sigil was charred into the ground before her, its color the smoldering of a star.
She felt a deadly curiosity bypass all rational thought and everything she was taught. Her armored hand traced the outline of the marking. Suddenly, her senses were overwhelmed with what she could only guess to be an sudden explosion, only there was no pain. Only temporary blindness and deafness. As her senses were regained once more, a demigod without a shadow stood before her. First and foremost, it was a Space Marine, the defenders of Humanity and The Emperor's children. But the influence of Chaos was just as apparent as the being's demigodhood.
Atop its helm was an ornate crest. At the center of the chest plate was a leering eye that stared into nowhere. Gold trim surrounded royal blue for every piece of armor but the right arm and pauldron, which was crimson lined with silver. The emblem of the Brotherhood of Dust, more recently known as the Prodigal Sons, adorned his right pauldron, while the raven's head of the Corvidae Cult appeared on the adjacent pauldron. Joining the symbols of Chapter and Cult were mystic symbols of power, as well as the Mark of Tzeentch.
Once Victoria processed the Astartes's appearance, he seemed to establish chilling eye contact despite there being two layers of glass between the two's eyes. A calm voice overcame Victoria.[/i]
+You are of the Imperium. Or where.+
[spoiler]SORRY I JUST HAVE TO SAY THAT I JUST REALLY DON'T LIKE MY REPLY YOU KNOW YOUR TYPICAL WRITER'S SELF-LOATHING SUPER EDGY AND STUFF OK COOL BYE [/spoiler]
English
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[i]As the Sororitas regained focus, and after she finished surveying the being that stood afore her, the Sister of Battle merely returned the gaze to the masculine being, her helmet looking upwards to survey the cold, emotionless face of his visor. Yet she had not aimed her firearm and shredded through his armor, or drawn her sword and struck him where he stood: Victoria knew that the ones who served Tzeentch played games and tortured their prey with tricks and deceit, so she would be forced to commit to the act, else it would result in intense combat, which she was already tense enough to begin.[/i] "Far away from the Imperium, we both are. I originate from the Imperium's worlds.. and I am likely replaced, by another Sister of Battle." [i]Her relatively composed voice rung out from the depths of her tight helmet, while Victoria herself kept calm and quiet herself: in truth, she possessed some amount of anger for her sudden abandonment, as she had not seen a single member of the Imperium scouting for her, or the remains of the ship at all. Likely, it was all dismissed - all of the dead, replaced by more saints and warriors primed for combat.[/i] "...What would bring one of Tzeentch's servants out to this realm, though? Surely, you do not seek a tea party with one of the Emperor's soldiers, would you?" [i]Victoria did not smirk, or chuckle, at her sarcastic remark. The heretic was not a friend, even if she was far from the Imperium's influence and power now. Caution against such a being was beyond necessary to her.[/i]
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[i]Yet again did the figure speak not from voice, but of thought.[/i] +There is no uncertainty regarding your replacement. The Imperium and their unyielding hostility makes no room for search parties or rescues. Definitely not for mortals such as yourself.+ [i]The Sorcerer did not speak with a layer of hubris upon his words, as most of his kind would when speaking to such a mundane creature. They did not come off as insults, either. They came off as facts: straight and simple.[/i] +I am before you for one reason: to emancipate any animosity that could come between us. I know your kind does not take likely to Chaos, but one can see you sit at the lip of neutrality, don't you?+
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"It is merely because of who, or [i]what[/i], you are, and who you have desired to serve among the pantheon of Chaos Gods. A bloodthirsty warrior of Khorne would have sentenced me to execution, for I am pathetic compared to his might. A desolate creature of Nurgle would have mocked my resilience and told me that nothing matters in the end, and that I would die anyway - merely speaking the truth of death. A cruel servant of Slaanesh would bound me to their treacherous ways, and use me either as a toy of pleasure or another who has joined their ranks, who experiences their feelings. ...And then, there is Tzeentch. The bringer of change, weaver of plots. Unlike the other three, you would not bring despair to me, at least unless your master or plotting demanded it. And so, I shall not bring despair to you - for there is no select reason to, other than the fact that you are a "heretic"." [i]Truly, the Sororitas was a neutral being, especially after the events that had occurred a mere month ago. She had remained sitting for the moment, still looking up at the giant being before her.[/i]
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Edited by Xeno: 6/24/2017 4:35:59 PM[i]The Astartes tilted his head to the side in an almost childish manner. He wanted to laugh, but composed himself and pushed his thoughts of hubris to the edges of his mind. He was certain that these very thoughts once plagued, and perhaps still do, the minds of his superiors.[/i] +Very well.+ [i]And that was all that was said, before the apparition of the Sorcerer rippled like water and faded from existence.[/i]
