Equius Zahhak (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
frothymilk) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
mayfield_rpg2012-02-01 07:55 am
frothymilk) wrote in mayfield_rpg2012-02-01 07:55 am
Entry tags:
4th Trot
[Action - Park]
[The first thing Equius learned when he was released from the hospital is that sledgehammers helped make up for his loss of STRENGTH. They didn't have the same level of satisfaction that breaking in skulls with his fists had, but they would do.]
[If only the exertion from swinging around such a heavy object didn't reopen his surgical wounds. His white tank top was going to be a lovely shade of indigo by the time the day was out.]
[The second thing he learned was that human blood is awful for painting with.]
[Not just because it was all the same shade of red, but also because it didn't retain its hue and dried to an ugly shade of brown, and then got flaky. How could he paint the fine art with only one shade of brown?]
[It also contained far too much iron, and the metallic taste was disgusting to his refined tastes.]
[Dead humans were pretty much good for nothing. They didn't even fight back when he came at them, although that could have been because he only targeted drones. It made this whole "murderous highblood rampage" scenario kind of boring. A total let down, really. He'd always thought giving in to his chaotic urges would be a bit more exciting than this. A bit more feral and bestial.]
This sucks. I'm going home.
[With a heavy, disappointed sigh, he slings the sledgehammer over his shoulder and turns to walk away from the picnicking drone family he'd just slaughtered.]
[The first thing Equius learned when he was released from the hospital is that sledgehammers helped make up for his loss of STRENGTH. They didn't have the same level of satisfaction that breaking in skulls with his fists had, but they would do.]
[If only the exertion from swinging around such a heavy object didn't reopen his surgical wounds. His white tank top was going to be a lovely shade of indigo by the time the day was out.]
[The second thing he learned was that human blood is awful for painting with.]
[Not just because it was all the same shade of red, but also because it didn't retain its hue and dried to an ugly shade of brown, and then got flaky. How could he paint the fine art with only one shade of brown?]
[It also contained far too much iron, and the metallic taste was disgusting to his refined tastes.]
[Dead humans were pretty much good for nothing. They didn't even fight back when he came at them, although that could have been because he only targeted drones. It made this whole "murderous highblood rampage" scenario kind of boring. A total let down, really. He'd always thought giving in to his chaotic urges would be a bit more exciting than this. A bit more feral and bestial.]
This sucks. I'm going home.
[With a heavy, disappointed sigh, he slings the sledgehammer over his shoulder and turns to walk away from the picnicking drone family he'd just slaughtered.]
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[He sounds...pretty forceful about that.]
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[His voice is harsh. Bitter. But honest.
As he is now, he's too frightened. Too desperate to not die.]
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[Without a word, he rises up off the Major's chest and steps away, keeping a careful eye on him.]