(no subject)
Jan. 12th, 2010 10:38 pmKarakael stood on the edge of the Void, staring into a private vision of the future. Wisps of color escaped, momentarily dancing on the edge of darkness before dissipating back into the Overcosm. The masked Inquestor paused a few moments longer, attempting to understand the riots of hue that represented his galaxies dreams of the future, before finally turning back to his waiting audience.
"Something is coming." He said to the waiting childsoldier. "Return the children back to stasis. There is something wrong with the Overcosm."
Tash nodded once, then stepped back on to a displacement plate, transporting him instantly back to the palace. Karakael walked the remaining distance, brooding over the strange currents the future had gained. He barely noticed as yellow fumes began to rise around him. Only when it began to cloud his eyes did he look up, surprised at the change in an environment that normally bowed only to his whims.
"Fog?" The first breath of fumes sent him coughing into the arm of his shimmercloak. It was twitching in agitation, shrinking back from the noxious yellow substance, drawing closer to its master in fear.
Karakael stumbled onto a displacement plate, shocked that the change had come about so suddenly. But this time he was alert, and caught the first hint of the tug. Something - or someone - was pulling him back into the past.
He whispered, more to himself than his frightened pet - "This cannot be good."
"Something is coming." He said to the waiting childsoldier. "Return the children back to stasis. There is something wrong with the Overcosm."
Tash nodded once, then stepped back on to a displacement plate, transporting him instantly back to the palace. Karakael walked the remaining distance, brooding over the strange currents the future had gained. He barely noticed as yellow fumes began to rise around him. Only when it began to cloud his eyes did he look up, surprised at the change in an environment that normally bowed only to his whims.
"Fog?" The first breath of fumes sent him coughing into the arm of his shimmercloak. It was twitching in agitation, shrinking back from the noxious yellow substance, drawing closer to its master in fear.
Karakael stumbled onto a displacement plate, shocked that the change had come about so suddenly. But this time he was alert, and caught the first hint of the tug. Something - or someone - was pulling him back into the past.
He whispered, more to himself than his frightened pet - "This cannot be good."