Post by jafar on Oct 10, 2012 14:08:30 GMT -5
Though the people bowed, Jafar did not. These insects dropped as far as their knees, becoming so low they wished to bury themselves in the sand itself. Jafar was far, far to above that, and he would not disgrace himself in such a way. However, he still recognized the nessecity of actually giving off a fair impression, showing he too respected the angel. And it would be true. He could respect this woman for what she was worth, but he would not dishelve himself or think her too much for him. He was Djinn, and though he could not kill, well, it was certainly amazing to see how much one could live through. Often times that worked better than most would realize. The powerful bolt through the body that just barely stops your heart and reminds you of how powerful the person is was more effective than killing innocents. Make them fear you and admire you.
But to keep the façade going, Jafar smiled, placing an arm across his chest and bowing his head. He would not bend at the waist, but would bow his head to the woman. Enough of a sign of respect to show the woman he would acknowledge her power and usefulness, as she might his. The flick up of her wrists was a small move, but Jafar recognized it for it’s purpose. She did not want these people to feel tey needed to bow to her. Of course, make them think her an equal among them. They would feel empowered, able to take on the rotten corruption, while being corrupted by the rotten hearts of these two false saviors. As Altima the angel fell to the ground to walk amongst them, Jafar spared a single glance above. The silver-haired youth had apparently gotten so bored as to leave, or at least distance himself from this spectacle. Fine then, not all were cut out for riches. Perhaps this boy was just another street rat, but with darker intentions. A pawn to be used later, like any mutt.
Jafar followed behind the woman, appearing to glide over the sand much as she did. Her words were a poisoness apple ready to bite, an Agrabahn Viper ready to take it’s bite. A poison venom so quick to go through the veins, one had barely a moment to see their attacker before they succumbed to the magical stone-like venom that cracked skin. How these peasents drank from the sap was almost pitiful. Almost. They would learn soon enough. Agrabah would rise to a new Golden age, at the expense of it’s citizens.
As the angel spoke and prayed, creating more smaller explosions in the sand to form a shape, Jafar fought hard to hold back his psycotic, sociopath glee. The angel warned the people about those with a Key, something many would find hard to resist now. Every time the boy with the key had shown up after all, there had been pain, panic, and rithe destruction. Jafar waited to let the woman finish, smirking with narrowed, happy eyes. This would be beautiful, and as he glanced to her and let silent words pass by.
Spoken well and true. This may be the formation of something beautiful.
He turned to the people and flung out his hands, using his own grand magic to bring out a brilliant heavenly light to bathe upon him and the people. “Go now children! Spread these words as the messenger hath commanded! Trust in her words and Agrabah will prosper once more!”
With that, he too turned. Why spoil any more of what the angel had spun. Crowds shuffled to move, and Jafar was all the more happy at that point to burst into feathers, turning once more into an elegant Gyrfalcon for which to land on the woman’s shoulder, careful of her wings and mantles. “Spoken well M’lady. I do believe Agrabah may soon be on the verge of a revolution.”
But to keep the façade going, Jafar smiled, placing an arm across his chest and bowing his head. He would not bend at the waist, but would bow his head to the woman. Enough of a sign of respect to show the woman he would acknowledge her power and usefulness, as she might his. The flick up of her wrists was a small move, but Jafar recognized it for it’s purpose. She did not want these people to feel tey needed to bow to her. Of course, make them think her an equal among them. They would feel empowered, able to take on the rotten corruption, while being corrupted by the rotten hearts of these two false saviors. As Altima the angel fell to the ground to walk amongst them, Jafar spared a single glance above. The silver-haired youth had apparently gotten so bored as to leave, or at least distance himself from this spectacle. Fine then, not all were cut out for riches. Perhaps this boy was just another street rat, but with darker intentions. A pawn to be used later, like any mutt.
Jafar followed behind the woman, appearing to glide over the sand much as she did. Her words were a poisoness apple ready to bite, an Agrabahn Viper ready to take it’s bite. A poison venom so quick to go through the veins, one had barely a moment to see their attacker before they succumbed to the magical stone-like venom that cracked skin. How these peasents drank from the sap was almost pitiful. Almost. They would learn soon enough. Agrabah would rise to a new Golden age, at the expense of it’s citizens.
As the angel spoke and prayed, creating more smaller explosions in the sand to form a shape, Jafar fought hard to hold back his psycotic, sociopath glee. The angel warned the people about those with a Key, something many would find hard to resist now. Every time the boy with the key had shown up after all, there had been pain, panic, and rithe destruction. Jafar waited to let the woman finish, smirking with narrowed, happy eyes. This would be beautiful, and as he glanced to her and let silent words pass by.
Spoken well and true. This may be the formation of something beautiful.
He turned to the people and flung out his hands, using his own grand magic to bring out a brilliant heavenly light to bathe upon him and the people. “Go now children! Spread these words as the messenger hath commanded! Trust in her words and Agrabah will prosper once more!”
With that, he too turned. Why spoil any more of what the angel had spun. Crowds shuffled to move, and Jafar was all the more happy at that point to burst into feathers, turning once more into an elegant Gyrfalcon for which to land on the woman’s shoulder, careful of her wings and mantles. “Spoken well M’lady. I do believe Agrabah may soon be on the verge of a revolution.”