0022 - [Video]

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[On level one, part of the hallway seems to be obstructed. Fast-moving briar thorns are covering certain doorways, causing an impenetrable forcefield around some of the earlier doors. One in particular seems to be locked down: that of the Risen Emperor.

In the Emperor's room, Scorpius stands near the sleeping bed of Aslan, touching his forehead to check if he's truly out.

He is.

There's a smile back to the camera, as he considers his audience]

And now his power is mine.

Here he'll sleep, for a hundred years. And there is nothing left you can do about it.

Comments

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[Oh hell no, you did not just start infecting his vines. Scorpius snarls, and storms towards the problem to rectify it, doing his best to replace the ones falling ill. It's a bandaid, but hopefully one that discourages Arthas]

spam!

[darknessb4me]

[His sword hand gets entangled and he grabs a vine directly, thorns and all, finds the life in it and snuffs it out. The locusts weaken a second, which falls off of him. Unnatural frost creeps across the ground.

Arthas casts a wider net: they're all alive, these vines, or they're mimicking life. Trying to find and stifle each life individually is a terrible and inefficient use of power. He's just going to keep chopping and infecting them.]

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[Scorpius has had enough. He storms out to meet Arthas, glowering at him through the brambles]

Do you wish to fall into the same enchanted sleep?

spam!

[darknessb4me]

I'm just trying to make a point, sorcerer.

[Arthas' voice is level through his chopping.]

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

Your point is little more than a tantrum.

spam!

[darknessb4me]

My point is that this is my territory. I do what I want.

[He grabs another vine with his bare hands and pulls the life out of it.]

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[With an outraged cry, Scorpius instructs his vines to attack Arthas' neck; to press their barbs against bare skin, wherever they can reach]

spam!

[darknessb4me]

[A thorn digs into his cheek and he bares his teeth, ignores it. He draws an anti-magic dome around himself and pushes it out, down the hall, where it fizzles spells like water over fire.

If the vines aren't magic it won't work, but might as well try.]

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[But they are magic, and they shrink and recoil quicker than they can be replaced.

Enraged, Scorpius storms from his dwelling]

You dare to challenge my authority?

spam!

[darknessb4me]

YOUR authority?

[The frost on the floor rears up aggressively, in tooth-like stalagmites that punch holes in vines and the walls alike.]

This ship is mine. You are, at best, a temporary feature.

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

And yet I don't see you in control over your supposed ship.

spam!

[darknessb4me]

What do you call this?

[He smirks, gathers his locusts back - they settle on his hair and shoulders like blue fireflies.]

I eliminate threats. I keep order.

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[Those are some interesting hair clips, bro]

You're a pawn of the Admiral.

spam!

[darknessb4me]

I intend to overthrow him.

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

Intentions can only run so far.

spam!

[darknessb4me]

Yes. And the rest is power.

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

Of which you have none to counter the Admiral's.

spam!

[darknessb4me]

What do you know of the Admiral, hm? You're just a visitor.

spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

I know you've yet to acquire his influence. And that you're wasting my time here instead of heading after him.

Spam!

[darknessb4me]

I am just amusing myself.

Now, where is my cabin?

Spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[With a narrowed gaze, Scorpius directs his hand to a patch of briar, which lifts reluctantly to reveal Arthas' door.]

Spam!

[darknessb4me]

Very kind of you.

[He's going to head in. Bai.]

Spam!

[keeps_a_cool_head]

[whatev, whatev. Weird dude.]