[Qubit says nothing, but Carlisle as enough words for both of them, his temper bubbling beneath his skin.]
I have sworn an oath to serve my goddess in any way I can, and it is my duty to rid the mortal plane of such vile abominations. The pain might have caught me off-guard, but I know what I am doing. That is- that is not indicative of anything- of whatever you are suggesting. And such a suggestion is not appreciated, by the way.
[From well over his shoulder, a corpse rises silently. Had that one been alive before? Perhaps he'd just been lying on the floor.]
And furthermore, I will not stand here and allow you to mock me, certainly not after I came out here to help you. Did you even need my help? Or did I traipse through the open wastes for nothing? You're armed enough, aren't you?
[Another undead rounds the corner behind him, her eyes glowing with a faint, sickly light. If zombies can feel ire, she certainly looks the part. A third emerges behind her, then a fourth, all of them drawn toward that spot -- toward the subject of a certain someone's wrath. Carlisle is too wrapped up in his denial to notice their growing numbers, not hearing the shuffling of their approach.]
And now, I've got blood on me! I'm here for all of a day, struggling to adjust to constructs and portals and technology, and when I finally find something familiar, no matter how horrible, look what happens! Say something, damn you!
no subject
I have sworn an oath to serve my goddess in any way I can, and it is my duty to rid the mortal plane of such vile abominations. The pain might have caught me off-guard, but I know what I am doing. That is- that is not indicative of anything- of whatever you are suggesting. And such a suggestion is not appreciated, by the way.
[From well over his shoulder, a corpse rises silently. Had that one been alive before? Perhaps he'd just been lying on the floor.]
And furthermore, I will not stand here and allow you to mock me, certainly not after I came out here to help you. Did you even need my help? Or did I traipse through the open wastes for nothing? You're armed enough, aren't you?
[Another undead rounds the corner behind him, her eyes glowing with a faint, sickly light. If zombies can feel ire, she certainly looks the part. A third emerges behind her, then a fourth, all of them drawn toward that spot -- toward the subject of a certain someone's wrath. Carlisle is too wrapped up in his denial to notice their growing numbers, not hearing the shuffling of their approach.]
And now, I've got blood on me! I'm here for all of a day, struggling to adjust to constructs and portals and technology, and when I finally find something familiar, no matter how horrible, look what happens! Say something, damn you!