Tempist the Uncaring
Dec 30th, 2002, 08:03:00 PM
OOC: just a little warning ahead of time, this thread is Tempist's Perminant Death. it's only open to anyone who's RPed with him before, preferably those he considers friends or close alies.
IC:
What must it be like to wither up and rot?
How would it feel like to fall appart?
Or melt?
...or to be discharged?
The sky was dark, the color of slate. The ominous color cast few shadows, but they were long, and overpowering. Hidden, in the shadow of a valley, was a waterfall. A small flicker of light shone through the water, lighting up a narrow strip of the crystaline liquid. Behind the water, was a natural cavern, dwelling directly behind the vertical river.
Inside was one of the most beautiful crystal formations you'd ever see, with prysms of all kinds of minerals clinging to the walls, reflecting and refracting light in all directions and colors. It was like a dream.
A single candle was lit within this cave, with a man lying not too far from it. He was on his back, with his arms crossed, and eyes closed. His breathing was light, but steady, and his heart was faint. The age didn't show in his face, but in his very cells themselves. After all these years, the ultimate joy ride had finally come to it's climax.
It couldn't last forever, could it? Over 300 years was pretty damn good, for anything to exist. A bit too long though. You could learn more in that time than most put together, but the hardships you face are greater as well. He'd seen too much pain, too many deaths. He'd been the cause of too much greif, and he knew he was going to hell for it all, if there was such a place.
All of his worldly possesions that he had of value were put away, in a safe place. All of his weapons, all of his books. Every journal entry he'd ever made, was locked away in a place only Lasarian would know, if he ever found out of this.
Yes, it would seem that Tempist Opps was good and ready to die now. He couldn't even control his force signature anymore, it was shining brighter than it had ever before. Anyone in the universe would be able to sense him and his location, friend or foe... any who bothered to see what this murderrer had ammounted to.
IC:
What must it be like to wither up and rot?
How would it feel like to fall appart?
Or melt?
...or to be discharged?
The sky was dark, the color of slate. The ominous color cast few shadows, but they were long, and overpowering. Hidden, in the shadow of a valley, was a waterfall. A small flicker of light shone through the water, lighting up a narrow strip of the crystaline liquid. Behind the water, was a natural cavern, dwelling directly behind the vertical river.
Inside was one of the most beautiful crystal formations you'd ever see, with prysms of all kinds of minerals clinging to the walls, reflecting and refracting light in all directions and colors. It was like a dream.
A single candle was lit within this cave, with a man lying not too far from it. He was on his back, with his arms crossed, and eyes closed. His breathing was light, but steady, and his heart was faint. The age didn't show in his face, but in his very cells themselves. After all these years, the ultimate joy ride had finally come to it's climax.
It couldn't last forever, could it? Over 300 years was pretty damn good, for anything to exist. A bit too long though. You could learn more in that time than most put together, but the hardships you face are greater as well. He'd seen too much pain, too many deaths. He'd been the cause of too much greif, and he knew he was going to hell for it all, if there was such a place.
All of his worldly possesions that he had of value were put away, in a safe place. All of his weapons, all of his books. Every journal entry he'd ever made, was locked away in a place only Lasarian would know, if he ever found out of this.
Yes, it would seem that Tempist Opps was good and ready to die now. He couldn't even control his force signature anymore, it was shining brighter than it had ever before. Anyone in the universe would be able to sense him and his location, friend or foe... any who bothered to see what this murderrer had ammounted to.