In a cataclysm known as the Nightfall, the worlds were almost completely destroyed by a harrowing surge of darkness.
In the shadows of the ensuing chaos a new group has taken shape. Led by an Aegyl named Kalos, the 11th Hour touts an esoteric knowledge of how to combat the darkness and restore the worlds. They might be the worlds’ best chance at survival; but nobody really knows enough about them to confirm or deny their claims.
On the brink of collapse, the universe holds its breath in anticipation. Of restoration? Of destruction? It is up to individuals like yourself to decide.
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Post by Ellie who has 0% on Feb 19, 2010 14:50:25 GMT -4
He wanted to be left alone to not acknowledge anything including the sting on his knuckles and the blood along his arm. Samael made himself feel nothing, but growling agitation. His eyes glared at the sand as red butterflies began rippling off of him before sinking in the sand below him. Branches wiggled and arched from the sand with barbed thorns disrupting the sand's flow.
Hearing his voice again made the branches below to rise. No Samael didn't want to attack him, but he had low-tolerance of even looking at him; he couldn't and won't. The mutant struggled to shut his voice from his ears without physically shielding his ears like an immature child.
Not wanting to hear empty promises, Samael walked through him as if he wasn't there to retreat towards the wooded area near the mansion. He snorted at the last three words, "Never say what you can't feel."
