Friday, October 1, 2010

Senkha, Oliver & Stehl: September 30

Macglynn removes his chestplate yet again, exposing the demonic rune inscribed above his heart.

Senkha frowns at the rune, touching the identical spot on her own chest. She sets her jaw and sighs softly, momentarily distracted by Stehlp. "...he's not going to like this."

Macglynn says: He's a dragon. He'll live.

Stehlp flies over to his father's head and sits there, looking adorably protective and slightly sad.

Stehl says: ... Right.
Stehl says: So, how do you want me to do this?

Macglynn says: Melt it. Whatever.

Stehl says: Burn it to ash, got it.

Macglynn looks stoic. This is going to hurt.

Senkha chews on her lower lip, looking nervous, as if -she's- the one about to get her chest carved up and burnt off. She sits back against the tree, drawing her knees up.

Stehl shoves Mac, "Lie down and hold still."

Macglynn is shoved. He gives Stehl a bland look and seats himself on the grass.

Senkha closes her eyes, taking deep, cleansing breaths. She seems to be scooting as far away from Oliver as possible for some reason.

Stehl kneels down.
Stehl pushes Mac onto his back, "I said lie down, not sit."

Macglynn is pushed again. His bland look turns into a mild scowl. "Enjoyin' this?"
Macglynn lies down.

Stehl says: No.
Stehl sits there for a moment, staring at the mark on Mac's chest. He places his hand on it, "... Though I admit, I wonder how long it'll take for you to scream." With that, his hand starts to burn with holy flame.

Macglynn stares straight up. His fingers dig apprehensively into the grass as Stehl speaks. As the flame ignites his flesh, he clenches his jaw defiantly. He doesn't scream.

Senkha also clenches her jaw, eyes screwing tightly closed. Her hands around her legs tense; she's trying very hard not to make a sound, but a teary gasp of pain still comes out, before she can stop it.

Stehl 's various flames in his armor go out as he concentrates on keeping the fire from spreading, forcing it to burn away at the the mark. A dull chant starts up in his helmet, the words not quite able to be heard outside of it.

Macglynn 's flesh begins to bubble. His muscles tense as his fingers dig deeper into the grass. The plantlife begins to brown and then blacken in his grasp. He still doesn't scream.

Senkha lets go of her legs, pressing both hands against her chest, eyes still screwed shut. Her breathing has become shallow and shaky, her jaw clenched tightly closed.

Stehl lifts his hand and looks beneath it; apparently not satisfied, he places it on Mac's chest again. "... Hanging in there?"

Macglynn sounds very pained, but manages out, "Killer."

Senkha catches her breath for the moment that Stehl's hand is lifted away, but tenses again, once it's replaced.

Stehl cocks his head as he looks at the death knight's face, "Looks like I'm going to have to..." There's a glint in the eye sockets of his helmet, "Turn up the heat." Not giving them a chance to groan, he presses his left hand against the other, the holy fires burning hotter.

Macglynn tears the handfuls of rotted grass out by their roots, and throws his head back, finally letting out a scream as the skin, muscle, and everything around the left side of his chest is melted away.

Senkha gasps in pain as well, her hands dropping from her chest. She crawls, on all fours, away from Oliver and Stehl and, burying her face in her hands, also screams in pain.

Stehl waits for a few seconds before pulling his hands away, the flames burning away anything that happened to get stuck to his gauntlet. As the fires return to the various parts of his armor, he stares at his... handiwork.

Macglynn is breathing heavily. He doesn't need to, but just by reflex his chest rises and falls in a pained breath. His right hand reaches up to clutch the melted skin of his chest.

Senkha has since fallen onto her back; her movements mimic Oliver's, breathing heavily and touching her right hand to the skin of her chest, which is perfectly fine.

Stehl says: Right. So, you should be fine now. If you experience evil thoughts, the desire to slay any Light-worshippers or otherwise, and the urge to wear evil clothing and lounge around the Lamb, let me know.

Macglynn weakly responds, "Keep y'informed."

Stehl says: So. You got kidnapped. Remember anything of it?

Senkha tries to push herself into a sitting position, but it doesn't quite work. Her hands are shaking too hard, so she just lies there, breathing heavily and trying to recover.

Macglynn says: Couldn' tell th' gender. Dark room. Tried injectin' me w'somethin'.
Macglynn says: Didn' think it was a zealot. Or a cultist.

Senkha manages, in a weak voice, "...they usually are more...f-forthright with their doings, and it sort of let you go, didn't it?"

Macglynn pushes himself up by his elbows. He snarls again in pain.
Macglynn says: It did. Think Ah may 'a pissed it off.

Stehl says: ... Pissed it off.

Macglynn says: Locked out attacks. Ah fought back anyway, got disease all over th' operatin' area.

Senkha laughs feebly at this, as if remembering.

Macglynn says: Looked like Ah may 'a jepurdized some work.

Stehl says: Ah.

Macglynn 's hand claws out and finds his cloak. He pulls it over himself, and lies back down. "Ah'm jus' gunna head on home, Ah think."

Senkha finally manages to pull herself into a sitting position...then immediately falls forward and crawls towards Oliver. She pats him on the shin, weakly. "...want me to c-call Merry?"
Senkha says: ...S-Stehl...thanks. Thank you.

Stehl grunts.

Macglynn says: A good plan.
Macglynn says: ... Ah went a good three weeks without disaster. Macglynn says: Was doin' real good.

Senkha takes a few tries, but finally manages to whistle. Weakly. Merry-the-mammoth ambles back from behind the tree, looking like he's been crying. Can mammoths cry? Whatever, he totally was.

Macglynn rests a hand on the mammoth's tusk. He tries lifting himself.

Stehl punches the mamoth on the trunk with his spare hand. Lightly. BAP.

Macglynn manages to stand. He re-applies his clothing. As he swings his cloak around to be re-attached, Merry grabs him and throws him into a seat.

Merry-the-mammoth pats Stehl on the head gently and derpishly, because he is a good mammoth. He starts to put his trunk around the paladin's waist to lift him into a seat...and succeeds!

Stehl says: Can just drop me off at Goldshire or something.

Senkha says: ...r-right.

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