Thread: A Promise Fulfilled {Lady Nef x Shinyka}

Death paused for a second before breaking into laughter again, this time it was much more intense and intimidating. He was not aware how long he laughed, only that it was a bit of a while by human standards, and by the end of his obsessive indulgence of humor, tears had developed in his eyes. Mind you, not normal tears by any definition, but instead tears of blood. It only took a few seconds for said tears to perforate his black blindfold, leaving it soaked and bloodied as the macabre tears of blood ran down his face, and eventually forming a small puddle on the ground. He paid no attention to this, as if it were something that happened frequently, yet it was obvious that the humans were at least slightly unnerved by it. The young girl in particular, the apparent daughter of the king, seemed to be the one most affected by his outbreaks. It was obvious she didn't have much contact with the spiritual world. The other two, however, seemed less affected by his unusual behavior. Additionally, they seemed almost used to it, something that slightly frustrated Death. He resolved to see them quaking in his presence before his time in this strange building came to an end. At long last, Death's laughter stopped, a good while later. At this point, there was a mid sized puddle of blood caking the floor beneath him. Oddly enough, however, the blood only circulated around his feet. It never actually touched them, as it the blood itself was afraid of him. Death took a few steps forward, closing the distance between him and the women by several feet. In addition to giving them more of a feel to his massive power, it also allowed him to see them more clearly, as his blindfold forced him to rely on sense, and the blood caking his face made it slightly more difficult to judge things using his mind. He vowed to wipe it off and devour it as soon as he could, and he soon founds his lips slightly wet at the idea of doing so. With a slight chuckle, he began to consider their requests. Death found himself wondering for a second if the humans were brave, or merely stupid. They seemed to deem fit to challenge him, and now they wished to deny him not only one of his soon to be favorite charges, but change the very future of this soon to be bloody country as well? Death could feel himself quaking at the very notion of not collecting the tortured souls of so many, perhaps a large amount of them innocent, mere victims of circumstance. Death could feel the rage of this idea welling up inside him, before he finally expressed his discontent in the idea with a mighty howl, one that echoed across the chamber, perhaps even to the outside where it frighted the consciousness out of two acolytes who happened to be tending to the outside garden. He couldn't help but chuckle when he felt their minds drop remotely, and made a mental note to visit the two of them later, if serving no reason aside from tormenting them again, if to accomplish nothing more then reminding the then perhaps doomed palace of his undeniable place in this world. Not that they would forget either way of course, even if he chose to let the king live, whatever it was he would ask in return would no doubt carve him a place in this world again. Finally allowing his inner soliloquy to resolve itself, Death finally turned and began pondering the matter at hand. It occurred to him that he must have kept his audience there for a while, something that bothered him not, as being immortal, he was used to taking his time in everything he did, and saw no need to hurry a choice as important as this one. Finally, he let out a sigh and looked at his options. To him, there was little sense in giving up one of his most promising charges for anything less then what he would have gained normally. However, just what could satisfy such space puzzled him, and left him wondering if this would indeed be his greatest charge since the massive flood that had drowned an entire continent in one single day. He pondered it for a few more seconds before an idea struck him. His cold black lips curled into a smile as he thought of this wonderful idea, and the more he thought of it, the more he liked it. If he were not going to collect his large deposit of life on the battlefield, he would indeed need to find it somewhere else. However, since the numbers he gained from that could never reasonably resemble a war, he needed to get the most for his deaths. With a smile, Death crouched to the ground and stared reflectively into the pool of blood around his feet. He muttered a few words to it, before it turned pitch black, no longer blood, but some unknown substance, very much like the miasma like cloth that made up his pitch black robe. With a grunt, Death ascended to his feet again before once again reaching into the inky black abyss that was his cloak. He fumbled around for a second before he finally secured his cold hand around the object he was looking for. With a smile, he withdrew his hand from his cloak, with it coming a gilded hourglass, full of sand on one side, and completely empty on the other. What was most unusual about this hourglass was that despite what direction it was pointed in, the sand always remained on the same side, as if being held by some unknown force of will. As Death was almost sure that the darker lady knew, judging by her reaction when he first brought out the list, this hourglass contained the very sands of passing themselves, which allowed him to drag a mortal into the land of the dead, or vice-verse. Wordlessly, Death pulled the cap off of the top of the guided masterpiece of art and allowed the sand to drop into the puddle of blood below him. When the sand hit the blood, it became a rather wispy substance. Death waited about a minute for all of the fine powder to trickle out before kneeling to the ground and examine this strange fog. With another collection of strange words, the fog solidified and turned to dirt, caking the floor of the temple. Death wasted no time in kneading it with his hands. He spent a great many minutes shaping it into the likeness of a little village. He had no particular model in mind, and instead opted to work from what he had seen in the many villages he had visited. Soon, little houses began to take shape, only to be followed by tiny little people to inhabit them. Although the scene was made of the very essence of the ground, the resemblance to the real world was striking, and by the time he was done, it almost seemed like the villagers could move around at a second's notice, ready to resume milling their dirt like grain and tending to their dirt animals. Death stood again, this time addressing the strange women again. I want you to give me a village, he said, before kneeling to his knees again. With a single gasp, he blew out a strange blue smoke, which encased the small village, encompassing it and obscuring it from view. He waited a few minutes for the smoke to clear, before the tiny dirt village was finally visible again. This time, however, it seemed alive, the peasants now filled with color and life, the animals now moving around and making sounds realistically. It seemed as if the angel of destruction had actually created a town, only very very small. I want it to be full of honest people, Death said as he rose to his feet again and looked down at his work. Hard working people who fear god and embrace all that they think if good. Death looked down at his creation and smiled before waving his hand above it, a small trickle of blood coming from an unknown cut on his arm. The drop hit the center of the village and faded into the ground, unnoticed. Make them have families, futures and fortunes, he said, obviously enjoying himself and looking anxious at what he was about to say. Suddenly, one of the many jointures peasants in the center of the tiny creation dropped his knees, making sounds very similar to that of an animal being slaughtered of the like. A few seconds passed before he fell to the ground, his body growing pale and gaunt at an alarming rate. A second villager noticed him before she too, fell to the ground, rasping for breath and becoming a rather cadaverous set of remains in a mater of seconds. Black smoke began to rise from the bodies, causing rot and decay to follow in its path as it ascended towards the heavens. Not an hour had passed before the entire village was not more then a fest of rot and a pile of bodies. Give me the pleasure of taking everything away Sorry for the delay