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Post by Nikki on Aug 28, 2008 0:49:40 GMT -5
(( damn rights they are. )) Omega sat by his old tree house, overlooking the cliff, observing, thinking. Beside him was the armor that Dakken had requested. He was glad to see that he could still look over all below him from this spot. He sighed. He didn't have these quiet days at all these days. Not ever since the Nightshade Clad took him in. Now that he was branded as a traitor, he had to be careful. He knew that they were after him and if he wasn't several steps ahead, he'd fall right behind. He chuckled, glancing back at the tree. He had forgotten how well disguised his home was. So much had happened there. So many memories. He shook his head and averted his eyes back down to the valley below. A rare smile grew on his face, almost as though he was peace. His tail flicked back and forth.
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Post by Jezzira on Nov 15, 2014 23:01:01 GMT -5
It wasn't too terribly long before the lumbering drunk appeared below, bottle predictably in hand as he elbow his way through trees and brush. His long silver hair had been washed and braided a far cry from the stumbling bleary eyed mess Omega had seen the first time. He wasn't sure why he was really doing this or why he really cared, yet there he was. Another pull was taken from the bottle as he paused to look around, obsidian gaze flicking from left to right before he pulled his arm up to move the branches aside and continuing on. The armour would have been the first item he'd spied and then the creature next to it and with a small chuff of air out the nose he approached in relative silence.
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Post by Nikki on Dec 2, 2014 1:48:47 GMT -5
The scene from the cliff hadn't changed much from the days he used to watch over the valley below, back on Earth when the country flew high above all. More trees. Omega was never one to care about enjoying a beautiful landscape, even before his mind was flayed. Now, he looked over it all with a calculating, almost suspicious eye, a hand tracing over his chest. Over a barely healed wound. A narrow escape, that one. One that may have cost him his sister's life.
He shook his head. Best not to let his thoughts stray that way. He grew more like her since the day he used the infinite power in that wretched blade. Deranged. Unstable. Unpredictable. Impulsive. Too much like her. Still, he needed to believe he had some humanity left in him.
Omega's sensitive ears twitched towards the sound of the approaching giant, though he remained facing the cliff. West. Far West, towards the Tower of Nightshade. He shook his head slightly. This wasn't going to be a trip he'd want to take twice, and yet, here he was read to do it again.
He raised a hand slightly to the hulk like creature, acknowledging his presence. "Have you ever seen the ancient War Contracts between my grandfather and the original Order of the Nightshade Clan?" Omega asked, though continued before Dakken could respond, "Apparently they date back to a time when Grandseal didn't exist as a kingdom, or even a place. A good few thousand years ago. The first documents, they merely state an agreement between the two powers that the Order would act as a mediator between the foreign Army of Light, who came from 'the endless lake', and the peaceful nomadic demons of the Mirage Sands. Other documents describe a massive civil war that had spread far and wide, passing through the borders of the Provence of Faythen, stating needs and prices and offers, and who was doing what, and how badly innocents were sucked into a war that, literally, had nothing to do with them. The Holy Army of Faythen standing side by side with my grandfather and his rag tag army of nomadic demons, they fought a losing battle. More documents mention their involvement with the war between Faythen and the Kingdom of elves of Lenoria, which, again spread into the Mirage Sands and brought the demons into another war that wasn't their own. The contracts and documents describe the immense efforts put forth by the power wielded by the Order, and how they turned the tide of the wars, the aftermath of the splitting of the Provence of Faythen, and the efforts put forth by the leaders of Faythen and the Order to help the demons establish their own kingdom in attempts to build strong alliances.
Of course, being in the clan myself, I've had access to documents told all about how they played all sides of the wars. During all this time, they were actually playing all sides of the wars, growing in various forms of renown and power and wealth. In the end, they had claims to large chunks of what is now the Faythen Empire, the Kingdom of Lenoria, Senorin, Land of Art, which was what the rebels that split from Faythen eventually became, and what is now the Grandseal Kingdom.
Furthermore, with the Tower of Nightshade being on the outer edges of Grandseal, they got trapped on Earth as well when Grandseal was banished. During this time, they used their resources and power to further advance themselves, and my father helped them grow into the superpower that they are today. With their already generous claims of Grandseal soil, they have even more to claim from the help offered to ol' pops to remain in power when this hunk of kingdom was it's own continent in the skies of Earth. With their background influence and control to keep him in power, he owes them more than he knows.
Lord Tragedy approached Father a few weeks back asking him to honor these treaties and contracts that their predecessors had agreed upon, as well as the ones that they had worked out themselves." Omega turned slightly towards Dakken, his crystal eyes staring through the dark shroud of his white robe. "So he hunted down Foxflare, his own daughter, your wife, and hired her to try and stop him from going through with contracts. Through me." A slight frown crept across his face. "She's never been one to be tactful. When busting into the tower and making demands didn't work... Well, she's always been fucked up in the head, and obsessed with death. When words didn't work, she began to release her power and firing shots..." He turned away again,"... And I couldn't just let her fuck up the people I've sworn myself to, nor could I let them end her either. Which lead to me coming back here and finding you, Dakken."
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Post by Jezzira on Dec 28, 2014 12:52:30 GMT -5
The large man paused in his tracks, large hand drawn across broad chest to scratch it as he listened. Politics, wasn't he passed that now? A run of his tongue along large teeth. He was truly a sight to behold, large, almost eleven feet in height with wings to match; a small dragon. Another pull taken from half empty bottle perhaps near a quarter now, he stood in silence debating the story. Obsidian gaze found the tower of which he spoke and then down over the west and back up over Omega. Still no words from the large man, perhaps trying to parse the information. Another scratch of his chest and finally movement in those stony features as he opened his mouth to speak, "So whats this lead me too then?" A simple question really. He'd always been a simple man.
Littered with scars his body and face were now, seeming eons of fighting. To him it was just the same battle over and over again and if he were asked to recall specific fights or events liquor washed mind wouldn't have found them. He shifted his weight, unsure why he had agreed to come up even. Another tool in another war. Another fight for another person in another day. So he would await the answer and do what they expected him to do, carry out orders and fight.
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