Deimos
Rolling his eyes at Ru’s antics and Iskra’s blunders of Wardenship, he ignored the other course of actions, and simply turned towards the office, trusting the rest would be capable of their own investigations, sending Belial to the roof as some form of a task as well.
If Iskra yearned for rats, he’d be sorely mistaken. The storage room opened in a pile, an array, of the usual – mops, buckets, dust pans, brooms once leaning on the door, collectively falling to the floor. They clearly hadn’t been used in a while, given the state of dirt, grime, and filth, but the more intriguing notions were in the corner of the small room. Beyond spare tables and chairs, was a small hole in the corner, some tiny bones, and a nest of…some animal, though it’d yet to return to its home.
While Hotaru had a penchant for cleanliness, and given the state of the prior room, the cells clearly didn’t. The musty odor lingered within, probably from the office’s current state, until everything around seemed to hold a damp, stank, mildewed quality. Puddles had managed to form in the deeper portions of the prisons, bars slightly warped or rusted, and windows all for naught, the glass long since gone and departed.
Which meant, of course, some ningos had roosted at the top of some bars. They cooed down at her as she approached, completely unbothered.
The Sword’s discovery would yield the same sort of results – the draft was all the more obvious as he approached, and beckoned from a large perforation in the outer wall. Predilections and machinations might’ve spurned towards prior war antics – either in dragon assault or banshee decree – but it scarcely mattered now. This threshold wasn’t immaculate or unblemished either; snow had piled itself in the corner, papers were scattered and torn, and there may have been a desk under more piles of…stuff.
The other two could probably hear the sigh wafting from his current confines, but he approached where they’d all met before, waiting for the reports, and inevitably, where they needed to start. “What did you find?” echoed against the building, brow arching at the impending news. Couldn’t be any worse than what they’d received lately.
--
Report your findings to Deimos and then we’ll figure out where to start! No post order!
If Iskra yearned for rats, he’d be sorely mistaken. The storage room opened in a pile, an array, of the usual – mops, buckets, dust pans, brooms once leaning on the door, collectively falling to the floor. They clearly hadn’t been used in a while, given the state of dirt, grime, and filth, but the more intriguing notions were in the corner of the small room. Beyond spare tables and chairs, was a small hole in the corner, some tiny bones, and a nest of…some animal, though it’d yet to return to its home.
While Hotaru had a penchant for cleanliness, and given the state of the prior room, the cells clearly didn’t. The musty odor lingered within, probably from the office’s current state, until everything around seemed to hold a damp, stank, mildewed quality. Puddles had managed to form in the deeper portions of the prisons, bars slightly warped or rusted, and windows all for naught, the glass long since gone and departed.
Which meant, of course, some ningos had roosted at the top of some bars. They cooed down at her as she approached, completely unbothered.
The Sword’s discovery would yield the same sort of results – the draft was all the more obvious as he approached, and beckoned from a large perforation in the outer wall. Predilections and machinations might’ve spurned towards prior war antics – either in dragon assault or banshee decree – but it scarcely mattered now. This threshold wasn’t immaculate or unblemished either; snow had piled itself in the corner, papers were scattered and torn, and there may have been a desk under more piles of…stuff.
The other two could probably hear the sigh wafting from his current confines, but he approached where they’d all met before, waiting for the reports, and inevitably, where they needed to start. “What did you find?” echoed against the building, brow arching at the impending news. Couldn’t be any worse than what they’d received lately.
--
Report your findings to Deimos and then we’ll figure out where to start! No post order!
we exhume our enemy's bones
we are battling, hungry beasts
we are battling, hungry beasts
