Post by Sylph on Apr 20, 2007 11:07:48 GMT -5
OOC: ick, can't believe I did that ><
It had been an age in coming.
Or so it felt to one Sylph O'Dell, at least. Hayzie Roberts had died at approximately 2:15pm two days previously on the cobbled streets of Drakborough, a victim of Fenris Fenrir, lycanthrope and madman. Her head had been pulled from her neck by Fenrir's slavering jaws, her insides spilled, her limbs and torso devoured before Sylph's own stunned eyes. The images still haunted her, in fact, flitting before her ordinary vision and interrupting her dreams until she woke, gasping and blinded.
Fenris had not paid for his deed.
Fury and an unslakable thirst for revenge had taken Sylph's mind after witnessing this murder, and, overwhelmed by her fey mood, had pursued Fenrir into his own wooded realm seeking her vengeance. She had come so close, too. With the aid of Azrael and the mysteriously returned Talon, she had brought Fenris to his knees, moments from death. To the surprise of all - herself most of all - she had spared his life at the request of Talon. Doubt still plagued her over this; she would have done better by all concerned to have ended it once and for all. Still, there would be years to dwell on this regret. Today there were more important things to deal with; today was the day of Hayzie's funeral, the time to say farewell to an old friend.
There had been a school-wide invitation to the funeral, and as Sylph walked past the rows of heads to where Hayzie's ashes urn stood she could feel the eyes of countless students burning into the back of her head. The violet haired vigilante, the one who had called the whole of Firefox to her side because her friend had died. Yes, some still believed that Hayzie had not been murdered at all, at least not by Fenrir, but Sylph had no time for these people anymore. They didn't matter, any of them. Reaching the front of the crowd Sylph turned to face them. Her face was still a mess, a massive black eye that still refused to cool and lose its purple-blue sheen; scratches and the like littered her skin. Unnaturally bright green eyes scanned her surroundings, though she didn't really take in much. A few familiar faces could be plucked out from the crowd, and to these Sylph nodded silently, her face set and grim. When hush had taken the room, Sylph began to speak up.
"We are here to mourn the passing of Hayzie Roberts, a dear friend to many..."
It had been an age in coming.
Or so it felt to one Sylph O'Dell, at least. Hayzie Roberts had died at approximately 2:15pm two days previously on the cobbled streets of Drakborough, a victim of Fenris Fenrir, lycanthrope and madman. Her head had been pulled from her neck by Fenrir's slavering jaws, her insides spilled, her limbs and torso devoured before Sylph's own stunned eyes. The images still haunted her, in fact, flitting before her ordinary vision and interrupting her dreams until she woke, gasping and blinded.
Fenris had not paid for his deed.
Fury and an unslakable thirst for revenge had taken Sylph's mind after witnessing this murder, and, overwhelmed by her fey mood, had pursued Fenrir into his own wooded realm seeking her vengeance. She had come so close, too. With the aid of Azrael and the mysteriously returned Talon, she had brought Fenris to his knees, moments from death. To the surprise of all - herself most of all - she had spared his life at the request of Talon. Doubt still plagued her over this; she would have done better by all concerned to have ended it once and for all. Still, there would be years to dwell on this regret. Today there were more important things to deal with; today was the day of Hayzie's funeral, the time to say farewell to an old friend.
There had been a school-wide invitation to the funeral, and as Sylph walked past the rows of heads to where Hayzie's ashes urn stood she could feel the eyes of countless students burning into the back of her head. The violet haired vigilante, the one who had called the whole of Firefox to her side because her friend had died. Yes, some still believed that Hayzie had not been murdered at all, at least not by Fenrir, but Sylph had no time for these people anymore. They didn't matter, any of them. Reaching the front of the crowd Sylph turned to face them. Her face was still a mess, a massive black eye that still refused to cool and lose its purple-blue sheen; scratches and the like littered her skin. Unnaturally bright green eyes scanned her surroundings, though she didn't really take in much. A few familiar faces could be plucked out from the crowd, and to these Sylph nodded silently, her face set and grim. When hush had taken the room, Sylph began to speak up.
"We are here to mourn the passing of Hayzie Roberts, a dear friend to many..."