[center][h3][color=F0F8FF] Amp [/color][/h3][/center]
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It was only after Perillian mentioned about the newer god that Amp noticed about the flying blob of flesh and tendrils in the room. Sinister spikes carry an ominous sense around its tips, while tendrils flopped and coiled in multiple directions. Unknown liquid gushed out from its maw as it held some kind of clarinet close to its body. 

[color=F0F8FF][i] How peculiar, [/i][/color] Amp thought as her interest was piqued by the instrument the monstrous owner. For as long as she has existed, Amp have never seen any gods that are born with an instrument like her. This kindled a small flame of familiarity in her imaginary heart as she began to assume the unknown god to be a servant of someone else. [color=F0F8FF][i]Gossiping about their masters, drinking tea under the Scarlet Moon, or just having fun torturing people,... [/i][/color] Oh, Amp can't wait until the next party. [color=F0F8FF][i] Talking about parties, how long has it been since the last time she held a party of her own in her domain? For she can’t really tell… [/i][/color]

Having lost in her own thought, Amp’s body freeze in mid-motion, her minor appearances dangled between the joints like a ragged doll. The smog that is streaming forth from her core painted the surrounding air with the color similar to the mustard gas, a color of forgotten horror and pain from the previous cycles. They swim in the palace of the god, lurking and occupying every nook and crack with their obnoxious smell of rotten eggs and spoiled meat before embedded themselves within the walls. The blank nature of the walls is gradually replacing by the lemon color of the mist, diminishing the holiness vibe the Palace gives, while giving in abundance a sense of abandonment and ruination of some forgotten pantheons in past cycles.  

Thankfully, it seems Amp was able to snap out  in time. Her smog is still containable, not causing too much problem for Perillian to scold at her for her lack of concentration. Comfortably situated herself on the leather swivel chair, her throne, Amp lets out a half joked remark toward Legio.

[color=F0F8FF]“Oh, yes. Tell me, what atrocities would you committed to your pets to ratify your own belief now? Please don’t go about crusading again. We done it last time already, and I am quite bored with that scenario." [/color] Amp said with her nonchalant voice, almost dazed in her thoughts as her finger circling at Ualla’s portal, feeling the lively vibe his domain is giving out. On the other side, the leaves rustle, dance to faint breeze of what could be assumed as early spring.