His laughter wafts through the air -- high-pitched and tinged with melodious madness. It is like the screaming howl of some rabid beast before it comes charging into view.
The sound of the motorcycle drowns out his slow, lumbering steps. His feet drag across the ground; the tops of his hooves brown from how it lets them slide and push up dirt as he carries himself forward. A curtain of white covers his face -- his hair flopping forward to hide whatever expression that the madman might have. He doesn't move to push it out of his face. His hair only moves slightly each time he laughs, a curtain being disrupted by a harsh breeze blowing through an open window.
The flesh across his arms and hands are thin; the shape of his bones are visible. Antler horns protrude out of his head. People would tell him that he was not human and he believes he looks every bit like the monster that they've said he was. But he isn't a monster -- no, no, no, no. He is a friend! Drool slips out of the corner of his mouth, slipping down his chin and onto the ground.
Mitsuhide pauses before he draws himself up to his full height. Yet somehow, somehow, somehow, it doesn't seem like he is attempting to be intimidating. The air around him may feel heavy; it may feel suffocating, but there is no malice or hatred or violence within that space.
His hand lifts to carefully part his hair to expose his face. His smile splits across his mouth, bright and red, just like a blade was dug into the wendigo's face and dragged sideways to open a large gaping wound. "I'm home." In all honesty, he's forgotten his animosity towards the devil; he forgot why he felt such anger towards the man. Was it the man's greed that upset him?
Yes, it may have been that. Everything in the world belonged to Nobunaga. A person that attempted to reach their hands out to grab and possess everything was the enemy of his lord.
His eyes close as his smile softens. He looks almost peaceful; he looks almost at rest. "You look well. Has your greed been satisfied since I have been gone, I wonder?" He feels his shoulders shake as he laughs; his laughter carries as he did before. It adds a heaviness to the air that surrounds him.
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His laughter wafts through the air -- high-pitched and tinged with melodious madness. It is like the screaming howl of some rabid beast before it comes charging into view.
The sound of the motorcycle drowns out his slow, lumbering steps. His feet drag across the ground; the tops of his hooves brown from how it lets them slide and push up dirt as he carries himself forward. A curtain of white covers his face -- his hair flopping forward to hide whatever expression that the madman might have. He doesn't move to push it out of his face. His hair only moves slightly each time he laughs, a curtain being disrupted by a harsh breeze blowing through an open window.
The flesh across his arms and hands are thin; the shape of his bones are visible. Antler horns protrude out of his head. People would tell him that he was not human and he believes he looks every bit like the monster that they've said he was. But he isn't a monster -- no, no, no, no. He is a friend! Drool slips out of the corner of his mouth, slipping down his chin and onto the ground.
Mitsuhide pauses before he draws himself up to his full height. Yet somehow, somehow, somehow, it doesn't seem like he is attempting to be intimidating. The air around him may feel heavy; it may feel suffocating, but there is no malice or hatred or violence within that space.
His hand lifts to carefully part his hair to expose his face. His smile splits across his mouth, bright and red, just like a blade was dug into the wendigo's face and dragged sideways to open a large gaping wound. "I'm home." In all honesty, he's forgotten his animosity towards the devil; he forgot why he felt such anger towards the man. Was it the man's greed that upset him?
Yes, it may have been that. Everything in the world belonged to Nobunaga. A person that attempted to reach their hands out to grab and possess everything was the enemy of his lord.
His eyes close as his smile softens. He looks almost peaceful; he looks almost at rest. "You look well. Has your greed been satisfied since I have been gone, I wonder?" He feels his shoulders shake as he laughs; his laughter carries as he did before. It adds a heaviness to the air that surrounds him.