He’d since dried off after drudging himself out of the lack. The Hessian stopped to survey the area, no Lobo, he couldn’t feel the wolf though. Somewhere nearby, along with the feint presence of Griffin still embedded in himself. Of course he was no longer a servant, and possibly no longer a spirit in general. He felt alive… but still lacked his head.
That was troubling.
Slowly the Headless Horseman makes his way through the lakeside mist. His shadowy, wraith-like form silently moving, no sound being made or heard. Predator-like, less like a man and more like something other. Searching for the wolf, searching for their scythes… searching for something else.
II – Now Gather Round While I Elucidate
They had since left the caravan behind after getting an idea of what had occurred. The Horseman mounted up on the King of Currumpaw, his now familiar and rode off. Even in their current state the Rider knew and felt the need to get away from others that radiated from the wolf. It was late now, and they were nearing Camelot. The sun had long since set on them as they wandered down the road.
They know where to go, even if they themselves don’t wish to go there. It was important that they did.
The Horseman held the twin blades in his hands as they wandered down the long, dark road. Just as silent as when they first left the caravan.
II – Ghosts Are Bad The One that’s Cursed is The Headless Horseman He’s the Worst (Basililsk)
Well, this was cute. The Horseman seemed amused? It was difficult to tell due to the lack of a head, but the man’s shoulders seem to shake not with fear, but with mirth. No head means no eye contact, means no paralysis. There probably couldn’t be a worse matchup for the poor snake.
One scythe lashes out to catch the snake off guard as it lunged for another person. Lobo in the meantime lunged to dig his large fangs into the reptile’s side. Congrats, you now have the worst of the spooks on your side.
III – Demons Take One Look and Groan and Hit The Road for Parts Unknown (Sleep Demons)
Yes, another amusing sight for the rider. Demons that had begun to terrorize the campers. He’d shacked up away from the group initially, only to be drawn by the moans and screams by the sleepers like a moth to flame. A scythe flashed out and sliced off a demon’s head.
His large figure hung over the lifeless body of the demon, and that of the sleeper. His shoulders shaking with mirth once more. Though this time something more deep and guttural sounding echoed from him… a laugh. A grotesque, twisted attempt of a laugh. As best as he could manage without a mouth or much of a throat.
Close by Lobo was on the prowl. The large wolf now ready to clean up the mess that its rider makes.
IV – He’s Out Lookin’ for a Head to Swap
He wandered through the streets of the city on top of Lobo in the late afternoon. They were both tired by now. Something that neither had felt for some time, the Hessian, perhaps more so than Lobo, felt semi-elated to feel life being breathed into him. Even without his head, and with that whip of flame occasionally flickering from the stump of his neck.
The grumble of their stomachs was loud, belying their silent approach down the city streets. People giving them a very wide berth. Not that either minded; in fact they preferred it. Of course, their precense would probably cause more than a little distress for any who might see them.
[WILDCARD]
[ooc: I’m pretty much just voicetesting (ha!) him right now. But if you don’t see anything you like here feel free to either let me know or simply start something else up wholesale and I’ll do my best to follow along.]
Hessian-Lobo | fgo
He’d since dried off after drudging himself out of the lack. The Hessian stopped to survey the area, no Lobo, he couldn’t feel the wolf though. Somewhere nearby, along with the feint presence of Griffin still embedded in himself. Of course he was no longer a servant, and possibly no longer a spirit in general. He felt alive… but still lacked his head.
That was troubling.
Slowly the Headless Horseman makes his way through the lakeside mist. His shadowy, wraith-like form silently moving, no sound being made or heard. Predator-like, less like a man and more like something other. Searching for the wolf, searching for their scythes… searching for something else.
II – Now Gather Round While I Elucidate
They had since left the caravan behind after getting an idea of what had occurred. The Horseman mounted up on the King of Currumpaw, his now familiar and rode off. Even in their current state the Rider knew and felt the need to get away from others that radiated from the wolf. It was late now, and they were nearing Camelot. The sun had long since set on them as they wandered down the road.
They know where to go, even if they themselves don’t wish to go there. It was important that they did.
The Horseman held the twin blades in his hands as they wandered down the long, dark road. Just as silent as when they first left the caravan.
II – Ghosts Are Bad The One that’s Cursed is The Headless Horseman He’s the Worst (Basililsk)
Well, this was cute. The Horseman seemed amused? It was difficult to tell due to the lack of a head, but the man’s shoulders seem to shake not with fear, but with mirth. No head means no eye contact, means no paralysis. There probably couldn’t be a worse matchup for the poor snake.
One scythe lashes out to catch the snake off guard as it lunged for another person. Lobo in the meantime lunged to dig his large fangs into the reptile’s side. Congrats, you now have the worst of the spooks on your side.
III – Demons Take One Look and Groan and Hit The Road for Parts Unknown (Sleep Demons)
Yes, another amusing sight for the rider. Demons that had begun to terrorize the campers. He’d shacked up away from the group initially, only to be drawn by the moans and screams by the sleepers like a moth to flame. A scythe flashed out and sliced off a demon’s head.
His large figure hung over the lifeless body of the demon, and that of the sleeper. His shoulders shaking with mirth once more. Though this time something more deep and guttural sounding echoed from him… a laugh. A grotesque, twisted attempt of a laugh. As best as he could manage without a mouth or much of a throat.
Close by Lobo was on the prowl. The large wolf now ready to clean up the mess that its rider makes.
IV – He’s Out Lookin’ for a Head to Swap
He wandered through the streets of the city on top of Lobo in the late afternoon. They were both tired by now. Something that neither had felt for some time, the Hessian, perhaps more so than Lobo, felt semi-elated to feel life being breathed into him. Even without his head, and with that whip of flame occasionally flickering from the stump of his neck.
The grumble of their stomachs was loud, belying their silent approach down the city streets. People giving them a very wide berth. Not that either minded; in fact they preferred it. Of course, their precense would probably cause more than a little distress for any who might see them.
[WILDCARD]
[ooc: I’m pretty much just voicetesting (ha!) him right now. But if you don’t see anything you like here feel free to either let me know or simply start something else up wholesale and I’ll do my best to follow along.]