Tuesday, August 2, 2011

There was a time that Tori wouldn't have reacted quite so humanly at the callous destruction of a life. The Clan Wars of the Highlands was something drilled into all Gargoyles of the British Isles. The gar clans had suffered many losses due to past alliances. But this, this was unnecessary. The decimation of the granite would have been enough to bring home her situation. In her mind's eye, it wasn't a nameless young boy, but her nephew Tomas that Adara shoved into the Bal-Char.

Rage infuses her body and she yanks the chains. Nothing. Panting in anger, Tori concentrates on the metal. She can feel the spell infused in the links. The spell does not affect her, but it increases the strength and solidity of the chains. She sighs, finding no stray strand in the spell to help her unravel it. Looking around her cell, Tori sees nothing useful, nothing that will get her loose. The drug has lost its effect, whether from the horror of Adara's little exhibition or the drug wearing off, she doesn't know. Thoughts roll errantly through her mind and Tori gives herself a mental slap. The drug is still effecting her, even if not actively.

The Gargoyle woman settles herself as centrally in the cell as possible. Folding her lithe form into a lotus position, Tori opens her mind to her kin. Her eyes are closed at first as she struggles to shake the last fragments of the drug's hold. She begins to send messages, images of what has been going on. There is a tentative touch to her mind, one she does not recognize. It is fleeting and gone, lost in the touch of another as her brothers and sister link briefly. A vibration of anguish, anger, and frustration touches her mind. Tori's thoughts slide along the emotion, finding Tannr's essence bound among the emotions.

Sooo, when are you getting here?
There is a spark of surprise. I could use some help Coppertop. I feel like a freaking sacrificial lamb here... her thoughts are cut off by a noise. She opens her eyes to see a Drow Guard staring at her. She mutters at him in Gaelic.

"*Glac pictiúr anchúinse, Maireann sé níos faide."

The guard smirks, uttering something she can't understand, but the motion is unmistakable.

"^Griem mo..." Her words are cut off as he snaps his teeth at her.

Tori stares at him, through him, as if seeing something behind him. The guard turns, looking around nervously. After that he avoids looking at her again, standing at strict attention. Tori sends out a broadband to her kin, reaching for Tannr as well.

Get me the fuck out of here!

*Take a picture freak, it lasts longer.

^Bite my...

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