Name: Madeia Adiemus Scahral Loel Lareighla Alé (The Black Mind, Philip Rascimas, Cotié De'aulf)
Species: Clonoid (Mind-Wiper Extension)
Age: 76
Gender: Male
Appearance: Presently, for in the past he has born several forms which held great variance from each other, The Black Mind now bears upon his outer form the same which rests in the troubled corriders of his brain, shadows. He is tall, standing at about 2 meters in height which is the equivalent of about 6'8", if not just slightly taller. He is very well built, and the basic black jumpsuit that clings to his skin shows every muscle in acute detail. Overtop the jumpsuit, however, are a number of different pieces of clothing all of which are the deepest shade of night. The chest bears a piece of armor which arcs down from his kneck and forms the shape of a semicircle, arc shape, and crescent across his chest and is connected by slight chains to a similar construction on his back. Forearms have the lightest bracers and his calves are guarded by equally light pauldrons. Overtop his tighter accoutrements is first a tunic, which is looser to allow for motion. It is secured about the waist by a large leather belt which stretches almost from the ribe cage to his hips, and is secured by several buckled belts. From the belt hangs a whispy sort of sash, or the tattered remains of one. Black pantaloons adorn his legs and lead down to just below his knee where large boots, made of something very like leather as is the belt, begin. Similarly, the arms of his tunic lead to just below the elbow into large leather gloves which are strapped down to his arms as are the boots to his legs by tightening buckles. Upon his head is a helmet which completely conceals him. It is formed to the shape of his head and holds the appearance of an Ebon mask. Wound around his head, and acting as a hood, is a large scarf whose tassled ends hang low about his midsection. A robe made of a coarse cloth hides most of the under-layers. Laying atop all this is another robe, voluminous in nature, which cascades down about him like a waterfall of cloth. The arms are expanisve as is the rest which does well to hide his form under many variant folds. Very occasionally, he does instead wear a cloak as opposed to his robe.
History: What Clonoid didn't start off as a human? But how many clonoids can say they started off as a different type of clonoid? The being which became Adiemus learned what it was to become new, too many times. Philip Rascimas was a good kid. He grew up, passing through academics, though he always prefered sports to books. But life in war doesn't allow for the simple pleasures, like control of your own fate. The young Rascimas was drafted into the allied armies of the remaining human nations to fight against the clonoid threat. He was a good soldier, a loyal soldier. He lived his best, and, in a daring fight with a Neoclonoid in an attempt to save his battalion, he died the best death that he could, or he would have. A single human simply cannot, statistically speaking, defeat a Neoclonoid. Generally speaking, a four man squad finds it difficult at best to take down even one Neoclonoid. Philip and the men who served along side him had been cuaght between a rock and a hard place that day and it was going to get them all killed. Assuredly, it would have, except that Philip and three other men volunteered to provide cover while the others made a desperate retreat. "The battle's lost, and the only thing to do is to save as many of our people as we can," was Rascimas's argument to his commanding officer. She was thoroughly against leaving anyone behind, but the men who had offered their lives to her again and again and now for the final time made a good case. So while their battalion was attempting an evacuation, this small and brave, and perhaps incredibly stupid squad of soldiers faced off with a single Neoclonoid. They had a Heavy Armaments and Utilities Mounted Repeating Battery and UG-16 Battle Rifles against a Pylonic spear. Two of them were dead within the first five minutes, not by any fault of their own, they simply couldn't stand up against the superior skill and ability of this expert duelist. Rascimas, however, and his soul remaining comrade, a man named Germaine, used a succession of excellent tactics and streak of the most superb luck to hold off the female, Neoclonoid Lancer for a grand total of fourteen minutes, thirty-five seconds, and twenty-six miliseconds. That, added to the five minutes that the other two men had bought with the price of their lives, gave a total of one and twenty minutes, allowing the escape of their entire battalion.
What they didn't realize, these two men, is that the Neoclonoid that they were facing no longer cared about the retreating warriors. All she wanted was to keep the two of them alive in such a manner that they could be captured. The human armies have a policy, if you are critically wounded on the field of battle and doubt that you will live, or that you will be found, that you should use either the emergency pill provided to all units who will engage in any form of combat, or a Pylonic-Endred Incendiary, if one is available, to eliminate yourself. Because, as every human is taught during their basic training, in fact drilled in, is that the clonoid directive isn't to kill, it is to maim in such a way that the person still lives and can be 'repaired' so that they may join the clonoid forces. Germaine, realizing that there was no use in trying to stay alive, turned his own battle rifle upon himself. Rascimas wasn't quick enough. The Lancer dived upon him, and, being a proficient combatant, severed and cauterized first his left forearm and then the right hand. Before he could bite down on the pill, one metallic hand was holding his jaw and the other grasping the little object out from between his teeth. She crushed the thing quickly and then radioded a medical team. It was so strange, those agonizing minutes, for the young man. The very person who had been trying to kill him and his friends not moments before sat beside him now, making sure he was alright, that the pain wasn't too much, that it wouldn't kill him. He passed into unconsciousness before the rescue team arrived, and depending on how you wish to look at the facts, Philip Rascimas died right then and there.
Enelia Uera, the Lancer who had incapacitated the man Philip, recommended to her commander that the lad be reconstructed as a Neoclonoid, and upon review of the data taken by Enelia during the battle, the commander agreed. An expert surgical team was flown in as well as the best field mechanic and cybernetics officer that could be had at such short notice. Cotié De'aulf would take the place of the fallen soldier only this time he would stand on the opposite side of the battle field. The new name was fashioned for him to take the place of the memories that were inevitably lost when he was 'transformed' from a frail and broken human into a strong and durable Neoclonoid. Cotié awoke without knowledge of who he was, but Uera was there to fill in the blank spot. She had requested to be allowed to be there when he woke up, and, though slightly grudgingly, her commander allowed it. She gave him his name and began building a base for memories that did not nor ever would exist. He had nearly died during battle, she had saved him, that much was true, and then she invited him to join her once again on the field of battle. The web of half truths made sense. Enelia was very polite and proper and more than anything else, honorable. De'aulf soon made a sort of connection with her, a bond as it were. The feeling was strong enough that when she presented the offer for Cotié to accompany her on her next assignment, he agreed. They worked well together, well enough that 'their' commanding officer decided to make them an attached unit, in other words, they went everywhere with each other. Uera had never enjoyed working 'with' anyone before, and Cotié appreciated her company greatly.
He never could remember anything, though she tried to help him sometimes, but fighting came naturally. Evidently, the muscles recalled what the mind had forgotten. They had been operating in that fashion for over a year when they were approached by someone from the clonoid infiltration division. The operative had an offer for Cotié. They wanted him to work deep cover as a rogue clonoid in a particular caravan that they had managed to track down but weren't prepared to eliminate before they had retrieved a specific data disk from one of the computers located in a singular trailer that they had not yet pinpointed. Enelia thought it was the perfect mission for him. "What do you mean?" he asked as he drew her aside. "It's a wonderful chance," she smiled and reached a hand up to hold his face, "There might be a chance, a real chance at you getting your memory back." A worried frown passed across his brow. "Do you know how dangerous this is?" he whispered hoarsely, "What they're asking me to do? It's like suicide, and if they found out that I want my memory back... What if I do remember, and then decide not to come back?" "Then I'll find some way to come to you," She grasped his head in both hands and stared straight into his eyes, "Look at me. There's nothing to be afraid of. We are something that you can't just forget."
In the end, he gave in to her efforts. They got him on the inside, but something went wrong during the initiation process. The hidden broadcasting device that he was supposed to use to communicate with was deactivated. Maybe the fake assault that they had conducted had killed him. Maybe the humans had found him out, or maybe some accident had just erased him completely. In any case, he was as good as dead, and that was exactly what they told Enelia. At first, she didn't react at all, but then she began to ask to be put on an under-cover detail. She searched endlessly for the agent who had found them before, but without success. During her missions, she became more and more reckless, allowing herself to wander into dangerous situations, going up against the wrong kind of odds. Her message was loud and clear. So they finally decided to allow her a small role in a subversive maneuver that they had planned, scouting and not spying. She lept at it, but then she vanished with the caravan that she was supposed to be reporting on. They labeled her rogue and even put a price out on her head. Whether or not she deserved it, the secrecy division informed the Strider Program that she was a viable target, and then they sat back and let the system do its work.
Uera hadn't just gone deep, she'd actually run. She was working towards finding any trace that still existed of her lost partner. But she was nowhere near as fast a worker as the Hunter that caught on to the trail. However, he had only caught onto her because he was following a Strider who was running with the same caravan that she had attached herself to for that month. She had travelled between different camps and kept running, asking questions. For all intents and pruposes, she was just a Strider who didn't know to look out for Hunters. They had taken her in for a while, trusted her, given her cover. They hadn't heard anything about De'aulf, but there was a rumor about what sounded like the same caravan that he had been sent to infiltrate having been sighted several leagues north of where she was currently. So, as she was preparing to leave, he struck. She was walking beside one of the trucks which was parked and still. She looked up at the grey sky from under the scarf that was wrapped about her head in some semblance of concealment. A shiver wracked her thin frame. It was an odd feeling, like someone was watching her. There was a sound of scuffling feet behind her. She turned, with a sudden angry intake of breath. He was fast, but not fast enough. The Strider lept towards her with a sudden violent burst, she had not even time to scream. She whirled, but he had closed the distance too quickly to use pylonic weapons. With speed and strength, the other clonoid stabbed her in the midsection with the metal blade in his hand. But before he could kill her, a bullet bored its way straight through his brain, and pierced Enelia's shoulder as well. Just before she went unconscious, she saw the tall dark form whose wide gate brought him quickly to her side, and heard the screaming of a child somewhere.
It would be several months later when Cotié finally checked in with information on the exact location of the data disk which the clonoid high command desired. They initiated a retrieval protocol and an assault was launched. The disk was retrieved and quite a few of the humans captured, although the caravan managed to slip away somehow. When Cotié was brought back to be debriefed, and after everything had gone as planned and procedure and protocol were satisfied, he asked where he might find Enelia Uera, his partner. Acknowleding the request, they brought him to one of the clonoids utopian cities, part of the reconstructed Arcana. There, they took him to a park at what might have been a rehabilitation center and pointed out one of the persons. She looked different than he remembered, but he still requested if he might not go and speak with her. The two agents that had been sent to escort him exchanged significant looks. "She won't remember you," one said crisply. The other spoke up when he saw the confusion on De'aulf's face, "She was critically injured during an operation. Due to certain factors, it was determined that it would be best to remove her from combat, so she was refitted into a clonoid shell. She is still recovering a bit from the shock, but she remembers nothing of her past, including you." Cotié was shaken to the core. She had kept him going, kept him alive. How could that person he had known so well just be gone? But he knew the answer to that, the same way that the person he had been had vanished when he had become a clonoid. Until now, that had never bothered him, but then, he had always had her. But he returned to his duties, although on any leave time he was given, he would go and observe her from a distance. They had given her a new name, Dinah Vahlas. Once or twice, he even went so far as to talk with her, but only in passing. They were right, the woman he had known was gone. The mind and even the body were different.
Slowly, he stopped visiting. The life of a soldier began to take over again, but it revolved into a lethargic state, forsaking the sharp reality that had been so often before. His superiors began to notice what was happening and decided to remove him temporarily from active duty. However, before they had enacted the process of a furlow of some kind, the Battle of the Eden Waise began. Eden Waise was the name of a small village renound for its orchards. A long time passed by, it was a prospering mountain village, a good place to vacation if one wanted peace and quiet and some of the most succulent and fulfilling fruit on the face of the planet. Now, it was a waste, and a nightmare for any kind of battle to go down in. The terrain was killer, being sharp and jagged and rocky after having been reduced to such by several bombing raids. The paths leading from it diversified into many smaller walkways which would lead into the networks of mountain caves, which were hazardous to try to attack even for a neoclonoid. Caught in a small space, one could easily be ambushed. And in this particular battle, the find that brought so many clonoids swarming to one spot was that of a remnant of the Abalest Arcanain Elite Military. These were the same demons whose Guerrilla style warfare had been plaguing the clonoids since the beginning of the war. Somehow, they had managed to not only stay alive and strong, but they kept getting more weapons and new technological advances. But now they had holed up in the valleys and caves and gulches of the Eden Waise, and for some reason or other, they would not budge. The clonoid High Command ordered an incredible force to take that whole stretch of the Heulanis Mountain Range back from these insurgents. Cotié was one of the Neoclonoids who got sucked in to the maelstrom that was the Battle of the Eden Waise. One might have even called it its own war, for it lasted for almost a full three months. Even in the end, the Abalest were not all killed, and the general theory is that the majority of them were able to make a tactical retreat afterward with whatever it was that they had been protecting in the first place.
It was during this battle, after about a week and a half of straight combat that De'aulf was starting to lose his edge. For the first time in a long time, he had been able to forget about her, but the desire to not let the painful memories come back was strong enough to drive him to his own breaking point. There was a small bunker made from a fortified stone wall that had been a fence around the orchard in which he was now taking cover. Just behind the bunker was a small group of heavily armed soldiers. He was sure he could take them, and with complete abandon, he began his assault. But he hadn't projected the consequences correctly. The Abalest were some of the most renound warriors in history, and there was a good reason for that prestigous honor. On top of that, these ones had some serious weapons: a G-false Eda Repeater Rifle, and three Eda Neins. This is just a fancy and round-about way of saying that he had basically thrown himself to the lions. All things considered, Cotié deserved to die for such a stupid mistake, but providence, or perhaps some darker force worked on his behalf. Just when they had fired a solid three rounds into his right leg and were warming up to finish him off, a metalic blur forced him out of the way and lept into the air. Bullets arced their paths through the air towards this new danger, but not quickly enough. The figure was above them before they could do anything about it and a Petros Company Endred Stack-Fire Incendiary was sitting right in their midst. When the device went off, three of them had already managed to escape but that left six to get fried. He could have gone after the three, who did happen to be the ones holding the Eda Neins, and he probably could have killed them, but he didn't. He went back for De'aulf. "Who?" Cotié was near delerium from the shock enduced by the shots he had received and from the tiredeness that he had forced upon himself. "My name is Tanis Valuard," The other clonoid said as he lifted De'aulf as carefully as he could until his back rested against one of the charred, petrified remains of a tree that still stood for the moment, "Just go ahead and sleep. I'll drag some medics up here on the one-two." He tapped into his com-link and did just that as Cotié slipped in and out of consciousness. While the medics were working on the injured neoclonoid, Tanis received a signal from his commander. "The neoclonoid you found, De'aulf is his name. The high command wants him kept alive, but his behaviour has become eratic, and that's part of the reason they want him, but in any case, would you mind mabye babying him a little?" Valuard replied that he wouldn't mind having company out on the barren and bloody fields in the least. He was a good clonoid, and a caring one. When De'aulf reawoke, Tanis was waiting there beside him. They were in a cave. Tanis was honest, and explained the situation, and then asked if Cotié wouldn't mind having a friend around. He ended by offering his hand to the Neoclonoid. Cotié was a bit shocked at first, but then he reached out and took the hand that was offered him. They spent the rest of that long battle together.
No matter what anyone may say, being in a situation of any kind of war and surviving together, saving each other countless times in a single hour let alone a day, looking out for one another, eating and sleeping and breathing together. That does something to a person. Loyalties are won and friendhsips forged that cannot be unmade. They both lived the whole way through it, but at the end, ways were made to part. They were sitting together on the back of one of the many armory vehicles sitting in one of the clonoid way station camps. The battle was thoroughly over and the two were reminiscing about a scenario that had occured which they really shouldn't have escaped from, but they were there talking about it so... It was then that they were approached by a very strange looking individual indeed. He appeared as if he had just come from some desert, which is a kind way of saying that he was thoroughly covered in sand, his loose garments dusted completely through. Across his back was slung a massive rifle that appeared to double as a sword, with a blade edging the underside of the barrel, unlike his clothing, it looked as though it had just been cleaned. He walked straight up to Tanis without any hesitation and spake thus, "Tanis Valuard, You have been selected as a clonoid for your bravery, valor, and outstanding combat prowess to join the Strider program." Tanis was distracted. "Excuse me," he was rather polite considering this man had just interupted his conversation, "But may I ask who you are?" The other figure stood up and jutted forth his chin in the at attention stance, "My name is Bouden Hunter. I have been sent by the Council of Vassus Mier with an invitation to you, Tanis Valuard, to join our ranks as a Strider." Tanis nodded politely and smiled, "Well, since you seem to know my name, there is no need for introductions on that quarter, but, Bouden, I would like you to meet my good friend, Cotié De'aulf." Bouden let loose his pose and fell into a far more natural looking posture, sort of hunched and with his shoulders drawn in. His face also took on a totally different expression. "De'aulf?" even his voice was changed. "Yes?" Cotié replied with a slightly amused bent to his voice. "Enelia Uera?" was all that Bouden said, but it was enough, for the Neoclonoid's reaction told all. It was in his face. Bouden nodded, "I was the one that found her... When I saved her from that Strider, she was repeating that name over and over again, Cotié. When I asked her about it. She only replied, Cotié De'aulf, as if it were some kind of spell..." He chewed on his cheek for a moment before going on, "She was looking for you." His eyes darted a glance up at Cotié's face. But there was only a mask of pain there. Tanis moved and put a hand upon his shoulder, but De'aulf did not either move or talk or react in any way. He just sat there. So the two left him alone. Tanis would come back a little while later to say that he had to leave, that it was important, but Cotié wouldn't even notice when the clonoid was escorted away.
After the procedures were finished, he would go to the Intelligence division, to his contact, and he would ask to see someone in the Science Department, someone higher up the ladder. He had known what was on the data disk that they had stolen full-well, and now, he knew that he could serve the High Command and his own purposes in the same swift blow. When he walked into the office of the Chief Technician who had been put to work on the disk, all he said was, "Wipe me." At first, the technician played coy, as if he didn't know what was going on. But Cotié played ball until the Technician was worn down. "I know what the information on that disk is," the Neoclonoid was adamant, "And I know that I can be used as a test subject. I want to do this. I'm useless otherwise." His commanders were inclined to agree, given his behaviour and its erratic tendencies. Grudgingly, the High Command gave their own approval when due course was put to its task. About a week later then, De'aulf was brought in for the surgery. Just as it had been with Philip, De'aulf died that day, or so it would seem. The new body they gave him was bigger, but not stronger. It was the body of a clonoid, with none of the neoclonoid enhancements. They feared what power he would have if the operation worked. So it was that the clonoid woke up on that cold table with no memory whatsoever, only the intense feelings of anger, betrayal, loss, and hurt coursing through him. He flew into a rage and attacked the first person who he found, a Doctor who had been aiding in the transfer. She had no chance, even without his empowerments, the clonoid was able to lift her up by her neck and slam her against the wall. She would have died if she and the Scientists and Technicians hadn't done their jobs so well. Instead, she just lost her memory. And this new clonoid got it. With nothing of himself, he now had something to fill the gap. But it wasn't his life, he found that out when he started remembering looking in the mirror and seeing a woman's face staring back at him, to say nothing of the other feelings and thoughts that just couldn't be his, and yet they were... It shocked him so much that he dropped her and stumbled back to fall on the floor.
By the time they got him, they knew that they had been successful. This time, he was given the otpion to name himself... So, pulling from the new memory he had been given, he chose a rather long and elaborate name from some obscure poem that the woman, whose memory he had taken, had loved as a young girl. For, you see, she had been a human operating within the clonoid infrastructure under her own free will to use her extensive knowledge to better the clonoid cause... She was a defector who had been allowed to keep her memory only because of her skill and knowledge. Now, she was useless in that aspect. So they had her outfitted to become a clonoid citizen, just like they told Adiemus. He was distrought at first that he could have taken away another person's life like that, and more disturbed that he now had her memory, which he instinctively knew was wrong without having to be told. But this was his purpose now. As far as history is concerned, after that, the being called Adiemus was used as a storage device. Whenever a spy needed to be interrogated or a rogue clonoid was caught, or some insurgent wouldn't give up information, they were brought to Adiemus. His power would come to life and he would steal away their memories.
Bit by bit, as he took more and more away, less and less room seemed to exist inside his head. Or perhaps somewehre along the lines, the boundaries were burst open. Either way, he slowly began to descend deeper and deeper into some dark place. All the black things running around within his cranium did appear to have an effect upon him. Eventually, he took on that completely black garb. He began surrounding himself with those whose minds he had wiped clean. The clonoid was becoming a sort of warlord, which was unprecedented. He was not an Alphaclonoid. He should not have been in charge of anything really, but he was. Bit by bit, he became more and more powerful, until he sat alongside the clonoid High Command as one of the dominant forces. The Command as a whole looked at him as a sort of lacky, but when he began to take an active part in the political realm, things changed. Though he never appeared in public, The Black Mind, as he had come to be called, always seemed to be there, looming in the shadows. The other warlords of the clonoid government that had allied themselves together were incredibly apprehensive of this new threat to their control, but in time he made no move to take anything more than what he was given, and they allowed him that. He very seldom spoke or acted, but when he did, it made an impact. But this is all very impersonal... In truth, Adiemus had begun to remember something, through the twisted soup, something that would drive him to do more than just sit there, something that would cause him to do anything necessary to retrieve his memory. But he told no one of it. Bits and pieces started to flow up through the endless memories in his mind and fit themselves into place. The pieces didn't have any names to them yet, but images and so he searched, inserting himself into the world, looking, waiting, watching...
That which follows is a conversation which is significant and somewhat but not directly related to the story just told: "Dinah, don't you look beautiful today?" Avrey smiled in her pretty way as the other girl sat down across from her at the small table which stood outside their favorite little café. Dinah returned the smile, but then looked up, unsure of herself, as if she was looking for something. "What is it?" Dinah's young friend asked sweetly. "Oh, I was just looking for... someone," her voice was with her gaze, somewhere else. Avrey stared at her whistful friend and shook her head ever so slightly. "He hasn't come back. You know they said he had been killed during Eden Waise," she spoke softly but forcibly. Dinah nodded slowly. The shivering of her body was not from the cold. The cloudy look in her eyes faded as though a gentle breeze had blown it away. "There's always this hope, though," she said in low tones. "You didn't even know him that well," Avrey wasn't exasperated but she did sound close, maybe more worried. "Yet, there was something about him," she laughed it off ever so slightly. The two just shook there heads and went on with their meal. Yet Dinah's head turned once in a while to look at the street corner where she had first met him often through the conversation. She just couldn't shake the feeling. Whenever he had been around it had just... Well, it had felt like home.
Powers: He is capable of stealing the memory of another person whom he touches. The process has something to do with the way the human brain works, so he is capable of stealing from any entity that still possesses a human brain. Computers, however, or cybernetic implants are sketchy. Some he might be able to scrub, but only if they have the same frequencies of motion as the human brain waves which he must 'hack' in order to steal a memory. The following, while not being strictly part of Adiemus's personal powers, are the forces at his command. As mentioned before, the Black Mind has surrounded himself with the beings whose minds he has wiped, forming their personalities and characters in to those of almost fanatically loyal soldiers. Always, he seems to be encompassed by these others, for when he was upgraded, he was also downgraded and can no longer engage in open combat himself. Hand to hand combat with another clonoid or a human is viable, but the very idea of going up against a Neoclonoid is straight out. So he has these men and women around him at all times, generally well hidden. He has only the elite in his bodyguard, though there are others of lesser ability in his force. The Black Mind actually possesses very little in the way of territory, having taken mostly from a specific area in the clonoid occupied portion of Jannaisja known as the Ferra Lei'aih. It consists of an old group of human military bases which were put out of commission during the beginning of the Great War which now yet rages. WIth tehm was also an airfield with a shipyards. Therein was built the characteristic mode of transport utilized by Adiemus and his forces, a massive Zepelin. Filled with synthetic lifting gasses, the giant fortress in the sky is incredibly heavily armed and, though not as swift as some means of movement, is capable of holding a massive amount of soldiers and supplies. It is never brought to the front lines of combat, however, or anywhere near the humans, but instead ranges only within the clonoid territories. Some see this as an open threat, others believe that Adiemus is used by the council to keep the other clonoid lords in check. On top of these things, The Black Mind appears to be on good terms, for reasons unknown, with the Council of Vassus Mier, that is the unnofficial group of Hunters which have taken control over the Strider program and rule from the shadows. Rumors circulate that Adiemus may have even sat on the council at one point. Either way, his underworld connections seem to be rampant and to trust him is to be foolish, on the whole... THen again, not trusting could mean your death...
Personality: At this point, the question is moot. He has so many personalities that it is impossible to describe jsut one. At best, he has mulitple personality disorder, at worst he is a paranoid schizophrenic psychopath bent on world domnation.
Sample RP post: From the dark corner, a voice emanated throught the council chamber in a deep and booming voice, "Let us hear this Shiva!" Heads were turned in that direction immediately from all over. Adiemus had spoken! The short figure smiled ever so slightly as she too turned to stare blidnly at this dark creature in the shadows. "I thank you for your support," she tilted her head ever so delicately. He nodded back, his great head descending first before climbing again to be held rigidly in place.
