[b]Hexagonal Chamber - O'Menus[/b]

[indent][indent]The tiny itch in his brain, rather the jewel of his being had begun to subside with the hardening of his memories. The, what he felt was unnatural, widening of his eyes begun to narrow with apathy. With a loose sense of understanding that he forced to mean everything and nothing. The questions did not matter, though plenty were popping through the light haze of his mental. He glanced around at the room slowly, took in his surroundings. There were others with him; he cared for none of them.

He inhaled deeply, searching for that preternatural organ he called his own, and felt a sliver of heat rise within. The alien wetness of his skin and hair dried in tails of gray smoke off his ebon-skin. The gold bands tight around his arms were olden, so he ripped them off with more effort than expected. That pulled a loud tsk' from him, [i]'Disgusting. What is this madness?'[/i] he snarled. 

Fortunately the loose, wide sash holding onto his dark airy trousers, were frayed but acceptable. His straw sandals however were disposable, so he slid out of them and continued up the stairs to the center of the room. There, at the middle of everything, he had come to discover was a pale girl, obviously ill and horrendously mortal, he presumed. Without a moments hesitation or thought, he strolled up to the prone girl, drew his foot back, and aimed to kick the poor thing awake. He hoped that his weakened strength could still break a few ribs.

[i]'I demand answers!'[/i] he thought, the extent of his extreme displeasure appearing as a downward pull on his lips. "Wake up!" he growled. [/indent][/indent]