Dave ST Posted February 1, 2019 Share Posted February 1, 2019 Just Desserts The fans in Deleshen's Under City roared out and cheered as the set for Death Metal Messiah came to a close. They chanted for an encore, they earned for another song, any song... they hoped for just, one, more. But hope was a lie. They would get nothing else from her this evening. Her set was done and she other business to attend to, like the after party. Back in her green room as things from the set wound to a close and the people were milling out back to their meager and pathetic lives, she sat in an over stuffed chair, strumming a few chords on her bass as her and the others decided what they were going to do with the rest of their evening. They could all hear the fans outside the room, thumping and cheering and begging to go in 'for just a sec'. The Death Metal Messiah of the Yawning Void however, just smirked and listened to how they were constantly rejected and it brought a slight curl to her lips. It was only when all the sound stopped and everything fell deathly silent that Messiah lifted her head from her bass and stopped strumming the notes. She knew it wasn't a good sign. A moment later the door to the bands room opened and the brief moment that one could see outside all there was to be seen were standing silent wearing nothing but looks of pure terror as their expression. The man who entered was one that Messiah had not seen in well over three months. He was tall and toned, but didn't look particularly powerful. He had short white hair, and was dressed in black. Black steel toes, black denim and t-shirt and a leather duster that the coat tails were cut all the way up to his shoulder blades, for some strange reason she never ventured to guess. His name was Winter's Sanguine Shadow or 'Winter' for short, and he was the closest thing to a 'friend' she had among the Deathknight fraternity she found herself a member of not long ago. “Odd, is it not?” His voice was calm and monotone, devoid of any emotion. “You despise hope, and yet it's exactly what you give them. Hope that they might see you, meet you, hear your songs one more time. For all your effort to dispel hope, you spread it everywhere you tread.” He looked at the mortals assembled in the room who looked between her and him, wondering what the connection was. “Anyone who wishes to die, by all means, stay.” As the fearful strides of those in the room beat a hasty egress a sadistic smirk grew on Winter's lips. When only the two of them were left, as she knew he knew they would be the only two left, he turned to face her (he often refused to look at mortals directly). “I find it amusing that they all love their 'death' metal so proudly, and prostrate themselves before the anger and rage and oblivion... yet when faced with their mortality they so quickly lack the courage of their convictions. I know not why you waste your time with them.” He dismissively waved a hand at the door, brushing the thoughts of her hangers on aside. “On to the reason for my visit. You and I have work to do. You are a Deathknight and a mouthpiece for the Void. There is a man of the cloth who needs to be sorted. We are going to be his reapers.” Spoiler He's the closest thing to a 'friend', and a tad of a 'mentor', but he's not the nicest of people. Mingle or get your things and go kill a guy. The choice is yours. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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