|
|
|
|
|
|
|
"Well, I think I should head off to speak with Marcus about joining the game. Sounds like fun." Tally says before asking those gathered, "Anyone want to walk over with me?"
After about two minutes, she walks over to where Marcus is to join the up coming game.
Tally exits to join HERE
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Aw fuck. Nobody could miss the King of Summer making his entrance. A powerful, magnetic, yet almost painful energy engulfing him. His mantle is like hell. Biblical hell. Fire and brimstone and thunder and anger. It's as if the devil just walked in through the door, wearing damnation like an expensive suit. Summer Sovereigns are supposed to be powerful and terrible, and one look at Brother Lucas is enough to confirm he fits the type. This, though... for Ramona, this is something else. More. Worse.
She'd heard of the man, of course. People called him 'brother.' People talked about his 'Night Ministry.' Not much more than that though. Like he was removed from the Freehold's social circles. Like talking about Spartan's replacement would be picking at a scab. Nobody said anything specific about him. It had gotten to the point where Ramona had practically blown up in Marcus's face because she had no idea if Summer even had a King, and not just a paper tiger. Certainly, nobody had mentioned that he was actually a priest.
The white dog-collar, the bible clutched so tightly, immediately chills her blood. Religion has never meant anything good to Ramona, ever. Militant religion is the worst kind. And what is the Summer court if not militant? It conjures too many memories. Being dragged across the country, from one extremist church to another, while her father sought the perfect combination of radical puritanism and xenophobia. Men in Colorado and Montana who spit fire and hate across their congregations, and met quietly in back woods with heavily armed militias. God help her, she'd been on both side of the equation. A good little follower, when she was too young to know any better, infinitely repeating the malicious rhetoric. Then, when she'd finally come into her own, decided who she wanted to be, a target of those same groups.
Ramona has committed to Sacramento. She realizes now that she did it blind. She never should have made that kind of decision without meeting her sovereign. Because she may have just joined another cult. Another radical faction. Something she swore she'd never do again. Her heart hammers in her chest, and her mouth goes dry, and for a moment she can't look away from the King of Summer, but finally she breaks eye contact, looking back at Marcus. He'd been saying something. Oh right, capture the flag. There's still a party going on. She's one of the hosts. Don't let them see you down, Ramona. Don't let them see you hesitate. Don't let them see your fear.
She licks her lips, glancing at Tally, "Yeah, uh, sure. Let's go sign up." She nods to Rostram, and starts walking towards the metalflesh. Marcus vouched for Lucas. That means, something, right? And there are good priests in the world... The reminder rings hollow, though. She's just met too many of the bad kind. Violence and intolerance drove her away from the church, helped along by the state of her family. And I'm never going back. Her hands ball into loose fists as she walks.
OOC
Ramona exits the thread and joins this one.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Capture the flag? Sounds like fun. But there's probably some kind of catch. No, there's certainly some kind of catch. But this is not anything like the time or the place to be timid. Rostam keeps pace with Ramona. She seems bothered somehow. Hopefully he's done nothing to put her off...
"Sorry, that was all pretty awkward. I'm Rostam and I've been here about a year. You're pretty new as well? Know much about this capture the flag thing?" This time he makes sure to offer a handshake...
Exits to enter CTF thread.OOC Note
Draft this Post
