04-18-2014, 07:42 PM
...Sheldon's 'Spirit Guide' is tall, thin-faced, with long black hair, and sharp green eyes far too old for the rest of his appearance. He wraps himself in shadow and watches the deluded mortal prattle on about the world of spirits she has no notion are within a finger's reach, to a mortal who is -
"Definitely one of mine." He thinks, with a crooked half-smile that holds little humour.
A younger son who was passed over in favour of his elder brother, his talents and intelligence never prized in a world of brute strength, never fitting in wherever he went. Different, odd, despised. He had first felt the call, the anguish of spirit, from a shattered, cold wasteland, but events had - rather overtaken him since then, it was only now that he could again walk between the worlds, and watch over those who intrigued him.
The thing that sought to break this will and spirit was not Chitauri, but something crawling up from the roots of the world, trollbreed filth, feeding draugr-like on his life-force. The lost creature beside him, a Valkyrie stripped of her armour, could no longer help him, her own flame all but extinguished.
The mortal is a creature of transparent honesty, rectitude, order. But then, the God of Lies and Mischief can be capricious in his favours, and this might prove entertaining.
He's always had a fellow feeling for outcasts, after all.
"Definitely one of mine." He thinks, with a crooked half-smile that holds little humour.
A younger son who was passed over in favour of his elder brother, his talents and intelligence never prized in a world of brute strength, never fitting in wherever he went. Different, odd, despised. He had first felt the call, the anguish of spirit, from a shattered, cold wasteland, but events had - rather overtaken him since then, it was only now that he could again walk between the worlds, and watch over those who intrigued him.
The thing that sought to break this will and spirit was not Chitauri, but something crawling up from the roots of the world, trollbreed filth, feeding draugr-like on his life-force. The lost creature beside him, a Valkyrie stripped of her armour, could no longer help him, her own flame all but extinguished.
The mortal is a creature of transparent honesty, rectitude, order. But then, the God of Lies and Mischief can be capricious in his favours, and this might prove entertaining.
He's always had a fellow feeling for outcasts, after all.