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| - In the First Age, someone is fleeing. She's a Terrestrial -- a fire type. Her Exaltation so noble and proud. But no passion runs in her face now, only fear, despair, a black pit of the soul from which she runs. The forest around her is dark, hot jungle plants brushing aside as she charges past them. She stumbles, her essence expended, her hands and knees bleeding, but she likes the darkness. The darkness means she's alone, means she might have gotten away. In the first age, the Terrestrial weeps.
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| abstract
| - In the First Age, someone is fleeing. She's a Terrestrial -- a fire type. Her Exaltation so noble and proud. But no passion runs in her face now, only fear, despair, a black pit of the soul from which she runs. The forest around her is dark, hot jungle plants brushing aside as she charges past them. She stumbles, her essence expended, her hands and knees bleeding, but she likes the darkness. The darkness means she's alone, means she might have gotten away. All of that fades with the touch of golden light ahead of her, the terrestrial stumbling to a stop with a: "No, please no..." Before her stands another woman -- an Eclipse, dressed in a warrior-monks robes, a golden cord around her waist tied just-so, her anima banner alight. She's beyond mortal beauty, a glance from her eyes enough to drive men to weep, a sadness etched there. She stands different, apart, yet in many ways so hauntingly familiar. "Why do you run from me, love?" She asks the Terrestrial before her, the bloodied Exalt stumbling away before the Solar. "I only want to help you. Don't you care anymore? I thought you respected the unique bond between Solar and Terrestrial. You were always first amongst my servants." "No...no!" She spits, drawing a pair of Plasma Tongue Repeaters and leveling them at the Solar before her, the weapons themselves a gift from the shining Exalt. "This...this is sick. This is wrong." A pitying, despondant glance from the Solar sends the Terrestrial stumbling back as if struck, one of the weapons discharging into the ground at the Solars feet. "Don't...don't pull that social-fu crap on me! I'm not going back with you! I'M NOT!" Her voice shaking as the weapons in her hands rattle until they might go off of their own accord. The solar leaps, a pair of repeaters all her own emerging from Elsewhere. Her wrists catch the Terrestrial, knocking her gun arms aside, a knee to the gut sending her stumbling back. The fire exalt rolls to the side, weapons blazing, but already the Solar is gone, a dodge charm sending her hurling through the trees. She leaps -- back arching as she flips trough the air, guns pointing back behind her as she executes her signature move, a pair of shots blazing out of each one. The Terrestrial raises her defenses -- charms that drive her soak to nigh-incomprehensible levels. But it's all for naught -- and with a thunderclap, each round lands in one of her kneecaps, sending her crashing to the forest floor, crippled. The solar lands, putting her weapons away and kicking aside the Terrestrials, picking the wounded fire type up in her arms and carrying her off. "Of course you are." She coo's, her tone comforting and reassuring in so many ways, the sweet reason of the Unconquered Sun. "We'll fix up those legs good as new and get you back home. Come on now." In the first age, the Terrestrial weeps. In the present day, Grey Wolf wakes up screaming, one charm safer, but terrified in so many new ways.
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![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)