- Aug 9, 2016
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Monday, March 13, 2017
[tom=https://i.imgur.com/zJxYn8n.jpg, #cfb53b]Though the sun was warming the ground a bit in the early afternoon, Malara could still tell it was winter. The cold metal against her bare feet stung pleasantly, sending shivers up her spine. She was in no way appropriately dressed for this weather, wearing only a pair of denim shorts and midriff t-shirt that read 'Horns Are Hot' in red lettering. She recalled attending a demonstration of some sort when she received the shirt, but couldn't remember what it was for. Or why she had bothered to go for that matter.
Everyone there had been so pathetic, so sick. Malara herself had a cough and a raging headache. Each cough made the headache throb worse, but she liked it in a way. Was she sick? Perhaps. Maybe that was why she couldn't access her full power. But she had refused to be locked away with those people and their weakness. So she had simply left in the confusion of trying to wrangle all those people.
From where Malara stood, atop the shoulder of a massive brass statue in front of some skyscraper, she could see only a few people going about their daily routines. Even fewer of these seemed to pay her any mind. The ones that did looked up at the war goddess with confusion or else fear. Maybe it was the flaming mane of hair wreathing her head. Or maybe it was the rather large sword she had found, slung over her shoulder with no concern of the blade potentially cutting into her flesh. Either way, these peasants hurried on their way, lest they incur Malara's wrath. They were smart.
Malara didn't know why she was here, exactly, on this planet called Earth. She remembered crashing to the surface, and she remembered fighting a giant centipede demon. She knew that her brother, Afzal, was here as well. As were Jafar and Saeta, her two most trusted confidants.
Those facts could only mean one thing. She was here to conquer this planet. She had other memories that muddled this: a friendship with a skittish girl named Cat, a home that wasn't a fortress, the fact that she and Jafar were apparently betrothed, her relationship with a Praxian girl named Noli. But those things were merely distractions. Malara had done this countless times before. Conquest was the only thing that made sense.
Looking down at the statue's head, Malara contemplated what her first move should be. Probably finding Saeta, Jafar, and Afzal. Even if the Daughters of Flame weren't here to lend aid, that only meant that Malar herself would get to fight and kill more. She grinned wickedly at the thought before jumping down to the ground below.
The statue had a plaque explaining who it was and why a statue had been erected in their honor. But Malara couldn't care less about any of that. This person was dead, most likely. A relic of the past. The goddess lifted her sword above her head, intending to cleave the statue in two.
But there was hesitation. She couldn't explain it, but Malara felt a sudden twinge of something she didn't understand. She was asking herself how destroying the statue would make the citizens of this city feel. As if their feelings were any concern of hers.
With a growl, Malara dropped her sword to her side. She would make the people of this city pull down the statue themselves once they surrendered to her. She would find her brother first. Then Saeta an Jafar. Then a castle to claim as the focal point of their invasion. Now if only she could recall where Afzal was dwelling in this damned city.[/tom]
