07-12-2018, 08:29 AM
[table][tr][td][/td][td][/td][td][/td][/tr][/table]
SING, GODDESS, OF THE RAGE OF ACHILLES
Bastille realized a second too late that he'd lost her, and he hissed in annoyance as she lunged for Church. That was not good, and his first instinct was to get in front of Gordon and her cluster of would be healers, gaze trained on the raptor as everything descending into chaos. "Delta," he snapped, immediately followed by, "Wash, don't--" But they were rolling and slashing at one another, and things moved a lot faster in the heat of things, when he was trying to figure out how the fuck he was going to diffuse this situation. It was too late to throw himself between them once more, but he supposed that had never stopped him before.
But then Delta was scrambling away, putting some distance between them, and Bastille had his opening. "Enough," he snapped at both of them, stepping directly between the two. He was less concerned about Wash making another attempt, and he wheeled towards Delta, certain that the raptor would not be pleased with this development.
"Delta, no," he said lowly, keeping the words even and clear, uncertain of just how much he could communicate in this fast. He made a chittering noise, and then barrelled on: "No attacking pack." There was an impatient prodding at her thoughts, trying to convey what he meant with images: her sisters, pack, followed by flashing images of the Ascendants. "Okay? Pack." He knew the sisters bickered and squabbled, but they didn't seem to go for the kill with one another. It'd have to be a good enough comparison. "Attack pack," he pointed a paw towards Washington, "No food. Lots of fire."
But then Delta was scrambling away, putting some distance between them, and Bastille had his opening. "Enough," he snapped at both of them, stepping directly between the two. He was less concerned about Wash making another attempt, and he wheeled towards Delta, certain that the raptor would not be pleased with this development.
"Delta, no," he said lowly, keeping the words even and clear, uncertain of just how much he could communicate in this fast. He made a chittering noise, and then barrelled on: "No attacking pack." There was an impatient prodding at her thoughts, trying to convey what he meant with images: her sisters, pack, followed by flashing images of the Ascendants. "Okay? Pack." He knew the sisters bickered and squabbled, but they didn't seem to go for the kill with one another. It'd have to be a good enough comparison. "Attack pack," he pointed a paw towards Washington, "No food. Lots of fire."
[b]BASTILLEPRISONER AURELIUS — ASTRAL SERAPH — THE ASCENDANTS — TAGS
Honey, you're familiar, like my mirror years ago, Idealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on his sword, Innocence died screaming; honey, ask me, I should know, I slithered here from Eden just to sit outside your door. [b][sup]▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃[/sup][/b]