Post by Valanor on Oct 30, 2017 20:02:57 GMT
Blinded to the twisted tones of the beautiful picture that was before him, Valanor watched as the blue sky shift to shades of grey and yellow. Where such things held significance to some individuals, the concept of its grace was lost on him. He could not see the painted reds and oranges strew across the sky, mixed with the beautiful vibrant pinks and purples that weaved into the clouds. For him, there was only grey... and yellow.
Sat somewhere in the middle of nowhere in a 'park' minding his own business, on a bench, not doing much of anything; Valanor looked to the horizon. In the distance he could see dark shapes of little black creatures flying freely through the skies. Everywhere around him the colours of the trees had faded to a mundane grey, save the select few winter coloured greens that held on to their lusciousness of their supple green leaves. He'd been told by some idiot that this was a good spot to think, a place of peace. What was it with mortals and peace anyway? They all seemed so adamant on killing each other years ago, what happened?
Valanor's expression became furrowed, the world stopped being fun after the human wretch and that poor excuse for an elder dragon exiled his people into being nothing more than glorified chameleons. Dragons were once a powerful race that instilled fear and wonder into the hearts of those that would oppose them, but now with their 'peace' the dragons had almost died out and the elder hadn't the courage to unite them. It was the human king that was to change that all. A smile crept on Valanor's face, if war was truly on their doorstep then he could soon use their silly little distractions to take what rightfully belonged to dragon kind and seize back the power they once had.
Drekhan knew all too well this would take a great amount of care. Whatever shred of tenderness that he held for this world had long since faded with the slow deterioration of his vision. If he were to strike it would be soon. Starring out into space, the cleanly dressed red head had paid little heed to the company that sat at the other end of the bench. As far as he was concerned, she was just another mortal. Scarcely worth talking to than the next random individual found on some dirt street.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" the dragon sad politely, breaking away from his trance and humoured her for conversation. If he were honest he couldn't give a toss what she was there for, the feeling was likely mutual.
@lorne
Sat somewhere in the middle of nowhere in a 'park' minding his own business, on a bench, not doing much of anything; Valanor looked to the horizon. In the distance he could see dark shapes of little black creatures flying freely through the skies. Everywhere around him the colours of the trees had faded to a mundane grey, save the select few winter coloured greens that held on to their lusciousness of their supple green leaves. He'd been told by some idiot that this was a good spot to think, a place of peace. What was it with mortals and peace anyway? They all seemed so adamant on killing each other years ago, what happened?
Valanor's expression became furrowed, the world stopped being fun after the human wretch and that poor excuse for an elder dragon exiled his people into being nothing more than glorified chameleons. Dragons were once a powerful race that instilled fear and wonder into the hearts of those that would oppose them, but now with their 'peace' the dragons had almost died out and the elder hadn't the courage to unite them. It was the human king that was to change that all. A smile crept on Valanor's face, if war was truly on their doorstep then he could soon use their silly little distractions to take what rightfully belonged to dragon kind and seize back the power they once had.
Drekhan knew all too well this would take a great amount of care. Whatever shred of tenderness that he held for this world had long since faded with the slow deterioration of his vision. If he were to strike it would be soon. Starring out into space, the cleanly dressed red head had paid little heed to the company that sat at the other end of the bench. As far as he was concerned, she was just another mortal. Scarcely worth talking to than the next random individual found on some dirt street.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" the dragon sad politely, breaking away from his trance and humoured her for conversation. If he were honest he couldn't give a toss what she was there for, the feeling was likely mutual.
@lorne