catastrophe
Click, clack, click, clack...
The monotone sound of heels hitting the stone pavement which formed the ground of the castle broke the eternal silence in which Savage Skull was succumbed, located in but a marvelous building, worthy of praise. Memories of the fall of the prior building invaded a certain mind, yet were dismissed in a second as the mysterious, yet slightly familiar figure kept walking carelessly and rather cheerfully through the halls. Blue eyes contemplating her environment with unhidden curiosity, hands kept in an almost child-like manner behind her back, the marvelous, beautiful woman kept wandering through the halls, seeking nothing in particular. She wasn't lost. Those halls, built by her own hand, blessed by the gods that adored her so much, had been her home. In the sleepless nights, she had wandered through those halls in search of entertainment, escaping from her responsibilities, and slowly getting to know every single meter of the immense castle. She would never get lost within her domains.
Who could know that, within not more than five months, things could change this drastically. Fiore was a weird mess now; Light Guilds had been declared dark (event that had made Janna go on a killing spree from anger), Neutral guilds had been going light, only for the sake of fame, and so forth. Nobody was sure what exactly was happening with guilds. The fine line between heroes and villains was dissapearing at fast rates, leaving nothing but a pathetic remnant of what it used to be before. Villains had always had the ideals or views far too different to fit in with society or be accepted, thus becoming objects of hate. Heroes had always fought to make the "Greater good" prevail, though that concept had vanished centuries ago. There was no greater good. Nor an absolute evil. Everything differed, depening on the point of view. Said heroes hated villains due to the fact that their methodology an ideology was quite... peculiar. And they were ready to kill in order to achieve whatever they desired. At the same time, Villains thought that heroes were mistaken, that they hated people for no reason, only because their beliefs were different. What foolish creatures.
Janneline Ariel, Guild Mistress of Savage Skull, had finally returned to claim what was hers by right. The Queen of Catastrophe had been forced to return to Bellum, her not-so beloved birthplace, in order to avoid certain death; perfection did not exist, and the Philosopher stone that kept the Homunculus alive was no exception to that rule. Due to unknown causes, the little stone that was the life force of the artificial human, had been slightly broken, thus causing a deep chest pain to the blonde, and a possibility of sure death unless she made her way back to her father and replaced what was broken. The Alchemist had been pretty surprised to see that his daughter had managed to break something like a philosopher's stone, but considering that Jan was a nate warrior, always charging recklessly on the battlefield, it would be no surprise if someone had stabbed her and shattered the stone slightly. At any rate, the whole procedure of exchanging the stone for a new one had taken months to finish, as crafting a philosopher's stone was insanely hard to do. In midst of the pain, Janna had had time to see a few old faces, which she had hoped never t o see again, and which had only reassured her that her place was in Fiore, ruling in a Dark Guild, and not obeying to some archmage's son in Bellum.
It was so late at night. The moon was shining above the castle, a bright, white circle that illuminated slightly the castle's surroundings. It would be quite surprising if anyone was up at these late hours, but honestly, Janna felt as if nothing could surprise her. If she could survive her literal heart being broken and repaired, without freaking out during the process, then seeing her guildmembers for the first time in months, after the attack would be no issue. Hopefully. The great hall of the castle was the usual place where reunions between members took place. Savages usually stood there, chatting, planning things or even trying to kill eachother, mainly due to the massiveness of the room, and how warm and beautiful it was. Gothic-styled and created by the hand of a true artist. Against one of the walls of the room was located a massive stairway, crafted entirely out of obsidian, leading to a throne made entirely out of blades, a seat created by and exclusievly for the Guildmaster. A flash of worry appeared on Janna's face as she wondered if anyone had dared to sit on it. It was her throne, yet she had gone missing for so long... It would be normal if someone had taken her place already as a Guildmaster.
Though she didn't like the idea at all. At any rate, she would know very soon, as just as she was thinking about the throne, she absentmindedly made her way through the massive doors of the Guild Hall, and towards her throne, climbing the obsidian steps with the same arrogance as ever. For the moment, her seat was empty. But was it like that all the time? Hesitant, she sat, shivering as the cold iron made contact with her bare skin, covered by an incredibly short skirt. Taking a deep breath, the queen of Blades looked towards the Guild Hall, noticing as the eyes of the few members that were awake falling upon her. Good evening, ladies, gentleman. It has been so long, since we last saw eachother... Correct?
The monotone sound of heels hitting the stone pavement which formed the ground of the castle broke the eternal silence in which Savage Skull was succumbed, located in but a marvelous building, worthy of praise. Memories of the fall of the prior building invaded a certain mind, yet were dismissed in a second as the mysterious, yet slightly familiar figure kept walking carelessly and rather cheerfully through the halls. Blue eyes contemplating her environment with unhidden curiosity, hands kept in an almost child-like manner behind her back, the marvelous, beautiful woman kept wandering through the halls, seeking nothing in particular. She wasn't lost. Those halls, built by her own hand, blessed by the gods that adored her so much, had been her home. In the sleepless nights, she had wandered through those halls in search of entertainment, escaping from her responsibilities, and slowly getting to know every single meter of the immense castle. She would never get lost within her domains.
Who could know that, within not more than five months, things could change this drastically. Fiore was a weird mess now; Light Guilds had been declared dark (event that had made Janna go on a killing spree from anger), Neutral guilds had been going light, only for the sake of fame, and so forth. Nobody was sure what exactly was happening with guilds. The fine line between heroes and villains was dissapearing at fast rates, leaving nothing but a pathetic remnant of what it used to be before. Villains had always had the ideals or views far too different to fit in with society or be accepted, thus becoming objects of hate. Heroes had always fought to make the "Greater good" prevail, though that concept had vanished centuries ago. There was no greater good. Nor an absolute evil. Everything differed, depening on the point of view. Said heroes hated villains due to the fact that their methodology an ideology was quite... peculiar. And they were ready to kill in order to achieve whatever they desired. At the same time, Villains thought that heroes were mistaken, that they hated people for no reason, only because their beliefs were different. What foolish creatures.
Janneline Ariel, Guild Mistress of Savage Skull, had finally returned to claim what was hers by right. The Queen of Catastrophe had been forced to return to Bellum, her not-so beloved birthplace, in order to avoid certain death; perfection did not exist, and the Philosopher stone that kept the Homunculus alive was no exception to that rule. Due to unknown causes, the little stone that was the life force of the artificial human, had been slightly broken, thus causing a deep chest pain to the blonde, and a possibility of sure death unless she made her way back to her father and replaced what was broken. The Alchemist had been pretty surprised to see that his daughter had managed to break something like a philosopher's stone, but considering that Jan was a nate warrior, always charging recklessly on the battlefield, it would be no surprise if someone had stabbed her and shattered the stone slightly. At any rate, the whole procedure of exchanging the stone for a new one had taken months to finish, as crafting a philosopher's stone was insanely hard to do. In midst of the pain, Janna had had time to see a few old faces, which she had hoped never t o see again, and which had only reassured her that her place was in Fiore, ruling in a Dark Guild, and not obeying to some archmage's son in Bellum.
It was so late at night. The moon was shining above the castle, a bright, white circle that illuminated slightly the castle's surroundings. It would be quite surprising if anyone was up at these late hours, but honestly, Janna felt as if nothing could surprise her. If she could survive her literal heart being broken and repaired, without freaking out during the process, then seeing her guildmembers for the first time in months, after the attack would be no issue. Hopefully. The great hall of the castle was the usual place where reunions between members took place. Savages usually stood there, chatting, planning things or even trying to kill eachother, mainly due to the massiveness of the room, and how warm and beautiful it was. Gothic-styled and created by the hand of a true artist. Against one of the walls of the room was located a massive stairway, crafted entirely out of obsidian, leading to a throne made entirely out of blades, a seat created by and exclusievly for the Guildmaster. A flash of worry appeared on Janna's face as she wondered if anyone had dared to sit on it. It was her throne, yet she had gone missing for so long... It would be normal if someone had taken her place already as a Guildmaster.
Though she didn't like the idea at all. At any rate, she would know very soon, as just as she was thinking about the throne, she absentmindedly made her way through the massive doors of the Guild Hall, and towards her throne, climbing the obsidian steps with the same arrogance as ever. For the moment, her seat was empty. But was it like that all the time? Hesitant, she sat, shivering as the cold iron made contact with her bare skin, covered by an incredibly short skirt. Taking a deep breath, the queen of Blades looked towards the Guild Hall, noticing as the eyes of the few members that were awake falling upon her. Good evening, ladies, gentleman. It has been so long, since we last saw eachother... Correct?
TEMPLATE BY ELIZA @open BOTE & THQ