Akvo City
02-23-2018, 12:12 PM
"Nothing but water and ruin."
Kisamoa's long ears twitched, his lips pulling into a humorless grin. Water and ruin and damnation, one of them walking upon the sandy bottom with a kind of obscene ease, as if his body just couldn't help but defy every sense of what was physically possible. He seemed to both walk and float, leaving drops of tarry blood in his wake.
He wasn't interested in a philosophical debate, so he chose not to answer. He could've argued about how Akvo, despite its state, was interesting in and of itself, but frankly, he saw no point in provoking Ruwin—and besides, having discovered the principle of self-restraint, he was childishly amused by practicing it. I could, his mind purred, but I won't.
And that applied to most things: I could kill everyone, but I'm choosing not to. Granted, there were more reasons involved than simple benevolence, but, y'know. Fact remained: he was a conglomeration of dead gods and much too powerful for his own, or anyone else's, good.
Kisamoa had drifted to a halt again, peering at the masterfully wrought coral, when Ruwin passed him by and headed towards the main plaza, or whatever it was that sat at Akvo's heart. He couldn't quite remember; it was likely something Vjanta had taken for granted, and in the merging of the gods, it simply hadn't carried over to him. Oh, well. Kisamoa pushed his poll and shoulders up, stretching his thick, scarred neck, before kicking off the ground. He floated above the structure he had inspected, paddling awkwardly—today's body wasn't made for swimming—and trying to sweep through the City's outer reaches, trying to help Ruwin cover ground.
Kisamoa's long ears twitched, his lips pulling into a humorless grin. Water and ruin and damnation, one of them walking upon the sandy bottom with a kind of obscene ease, as if his body just couldn't help but defy every sense of what was physically possible. He seemed to both walk and float, leaving drops of tarry blood in his wake.
He wasn't interested in a philosophical debate, so he chose not to answer. He could've argued about how Akvo, despite its state, was interesting in and of itself, but frankly, he saw no point in provoking Ruwin—and besides, having discovered the principle of self-restraint, he was childishly amused by practicing it. I could, his mind purred, but I won't.
And that applied to most things: I could kill everyone, but I'm choosing not to. Granted, there were more reasons involved than simple benevolence, but, y'know. Fact remained: he was a conglomeration of dead gods and much too powerful for his own, or anyone else's, good.
Kisamoa had drifted to a halt again, peering at the masterfully wrought coral, when Ruwin passed him by and headed towards the main plaza, or whatever it was that sat at Akvo's heart. He couldn't quite remember; it was likely something Vjanta had taken for granted, and in the merging of the gods, it simply hadn't carried over to him. Oh, well. Kisamoa pushed his poll and shoulders up, stretching his thick, scarred neck, before kicking off the ground. He floated above the structure he had inspected, paddling awkwardly—today's body wasn't made for swimming—and trying to sweep through the City's outer reaches, trying to help Ruwin cover ground.
beauty in darkness
kaos in light
kaos in light
.. and kaos opened up its eyes
