Mr & Mrs Other | The Memitim (worstofall) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2010-09-16 18:16:00 |
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Current mood: | impressed |
Entry tags: | the memitim |
Lacrimosa dies illa
Who: Mrs Other (worstofall); OPEN to US Military (pro_patria)
What: One of these heathens is not like the others.
Where: US Military's place
When: Thursday night
Warnings: None.
For the second time these heathens had touched what was not theirs to touch - with no notable repercussions, too. The Memitim had stood by and waited for orders which never came. It was puzzling because they had laid waste and brought devastation to heathen homes for much less in the past. These heathens continued to prance and prattle while the red tool of destruction once again was taught a lesson.
Funny how the world worked these days.
Funny also how these warfare heathens lived like mortals. No temples, no shrines, no sacrifices, no high holidays - perhaps that was why they had so many free passes?
Hands clasped behind her back, Mrs Other stood by the side of the heathen's bed, watching. He tossed and turned, hands gripping the sheets so tightly the knuckles turned white - restful sleep looked different. She was a little bit surprised to see him retire to bed. None of the others slept as regularly as this one. Then again this one was not quite like the others, was he?
"Maybe he-"
"Perhaps, yes."
"We might even-"
"Maybe."
"We could watch and observe."
"We could."
Not half as heretical as the others, not nearly as blasphemous, he wasn't quite a heathen.
What was he then?
The angel smiled as the frown on Ryan's face deepened.
A good soldier, of course.
Maybe. Perhaps.
Maybe. Yes.