(2/20)
The Prince gazed over the ruins of a once thriving civilization, perched upon the remains of one building's walls. Although his eyes were no longer his own, he could still see what the city used to be; a place of greed and lies. Some would say they were innocent, but no one was truly innocent. Everyone was guilty of conforming to the material need and guile, even the little white lies told to their partners. Even Aros himself was guilty, yet he seeked redemption. On this path, he would protect what innocence he could, even if it resided in the guilty.
To do this, he had to find those who's guilt surpassed that of the norm. In such a place of ruin and death, it was disgustingly easy to find those still pumping with the need to commit themselves to guilt. Scavengers they would call themselves, but they were nothing but robbers. Thieves who took their chance to pick off the bones of the dead and the innocent.
No one is innocent.
His head flicked aside, pushing away the commanding voices. He could do this alone, he didn't need them. Aros was a hunter, and his prey approached. Several of them, dressed in scraps of metal and leather. Off-worlders, no doubt, come to take what they can and sell it wherever they could.
It can not be allowed.
They were below him now, laughing away. How could they laugh at their actions? Did they not see their guilt?
The time approached.
Yes, now is the time.
Claws, clearly Vong by nature, extended from between each knuckle on his right hand. The scavengers did not hear the sound of flesh parting, but they saw the figure dropping down towards them. Aros landed atop one, breaking his ribcage by landing straight on top of him. A swift thrust downwards sent his claws through the man's neck, a gurgling sound of death confirming his deed.
Deserving of judgement.
Pulling the claws out, he rushed for one of the others who fumbled for the rifle on his back. He was too slow, too heavy with the stench of guilt, to react in time. His stomach ripped open within seconds, none of the material protecting him able to stop the weapon the vong had gave him.
A gift, used well.
It was down to one final man, who had managed to unholster his pistol and aim it straight at the Prince. Was this it? Was this his end, so soon?
Tap. A pebble, thrown lightly at the man's back. His head turned, his eyes locking upon the child who threw it.
A mistake.
Swift as a hawkbat, Aros plunged his claws into the man's heart. One singular grunt came from the mouth, expelling his guilt-ridden lungs. When the claws retracted into skin, the body fell to the rubble.
Aros too gazed upon the child, who cowered behind part of a wall. He examined it; it seemed different from most...
It seemed innocent.
No one is innocent.
"Don't be afraid..." The rough voice of The Scarred Prince croaked, his hand beckoning it to come closer.
[member="Sabrina Kotass"] [member="Rexus Drath"] [member="Solan Charr"] [member="Sheila"] [member="Vulpesen"]
