Siren's Summit
08-09-2017, 11:01 PM
The General was in a cloud, in a haze, stuck in some hallucinatory trance, befuddled, beguiled, ensnared. His head felt heavy, cumbersome, like a weight pulling it down, down, down towards the water, to the embankment, to the shores, to the extension of petals and blossoms, ripe for the plucking. It was as if nothing else mattered but the soft, dulcet clamor of their beings, and he couldn’t figure out why, couldn’t figure out how, simply enamored. The youth didn’t feel the rush of magic, the push and pull of enchantments, of siren wails and toxic, eldritch concoctions, so weakened, so pathetic, so inept, caught in the crossfire of otherworldly throngs. He was full of power, yet couldn’t fight off the spells, the invocations, reaching past the void to see what was beyond its fragrant caresses and beatific strokes, a devil’s plaything, a witch’s puppet, a demon’s marionette, marching to the tunes they played in his cranium. Even Weaver’s voice, her words, were faraway, off in some other delusional mist, where he couldn’t touch, where he couldn’t feel, and everything was simply benign and meaningless; barely capable of flicking his eyes towards hers. He didn’t think about how she ignored his inquiry, or how she could pierce him with her knives, with her daggers, with her words like he’d always dreaded, like he’d always presumed, for Weaver had been a manifestation of potency and ruin, dragged on his sentiments at his lowest points – there was naught now but light laughter, stupid, drunken spoils. He shook his skull again, blinked hard, attempted to focus at the world beyond flowers and enigmas, but then his eyes would travel to their presence again, and he was damned thereafter. Orsino was a lost cause entirely, pulling, hissing, growling, to no effect – Erebos was numbed, dulled, lost in a listless, comfortable blur. “I have no idea,” he stated to her, because it was the truth and his tongue, his mouth, his rattled notions couldn’t come up with a worthy lie or indulgent tale. It fit with her second inquiry, and so he laughed, a ridiculous rumble of chuckles reverberating through his chest, before stepping forward without so much as a warning – all impulse, all boldness, all audacity in the face of deceit and incantations.
“Let’s find out,” was his last proclamation before sauntering forth, breaking every damn warning that should’ve been circling, spiraling over his brain, but it was too full of chimeras and reveries. There was no forethought, no consequences, no idle effects tracing over his figure, over his once-Machiavellian mind; only cobwebs and pleas, only goading and beguiling, lures dragging him further out to sea. He stepped first into the water, pressing over the surface just as he’d done ages and days and eons before in Helovia, brushing along the top of the lake like he reigned, like he ruled (when he was just the weakest link, the one torn completely asunder). Then the fool lowered his head, his face, his maw, to the precious bulbs, intending to draw his muzzle over the silken, smooth petals.
“Let’s find out,” was his last proclamation before sauntering forth, breaking every damn warning that should’ve been circling, spiraling over his brain, but it was too full of chimeras and reveries. There was no forethought, no consequences, no idle effects tracing over his figure, over his once-Machiavellian mind; only cobwebs and pleas, only goading and beguiling, lures dragging him further out to sea. He stepped first into the water, pressing over the surface just as he’d done ages and days and eons before in Helovia, brushing along the top of the lake like he reigned, like he ruled (when he was just the weakest link, the one torn completely asunder). Then the fool lowered his head, his face, his maw, to the precious bulbs, intending to draw his muzzle over the silken, smooth petals.
Erebos
clever got me this far - - then tricky got me in
@Weaver
