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Apologies To The Masses [Plague]

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Flyers are seen and handed out from across different cities and towns, usually handled by a scruffy child draped in filth ridden clothes, one would think the child was commissioned to hand out the flyers for mina. The flyer reads-

 

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Warning

 

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This post has identified itself as a set atmosphere, and would desire you to comply with its tones. Any out of character problems should be brought to the author of the post via PMS.

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A hooded figure narrows his eyes, shaking his head some as his upper-lip twitched in anger upon reading over the flyer. "Such stupidity.." He mutters beneath his mask; shaking his head some as he balls up the piece of paper before moving to depart. "I had no hand in this plague, I knew it'd backfire on us."

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"You could've like...killed me."

Ceruberr states plainly as he reads the letter.

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"You could've like...killed me."

Ceruberr states plainly as he reads the letter.

 

"You killed people."

Crumena injects plainly behind Ceruberr's back.

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Sul'irrin stares at the paper, rotating his jaw underneath his T.A.C. mask, the red lenses slightly glowing in the firelight.

 

"Fawking Uncle.." 

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Joseph lays idle in his position, raising a thumb to scratch an eyebrow in slight puzzlement after reading the flyer. "I hope he realizes what he has just done, I don't wish for more irksome and violent events to find its way to me." He dips his head down, burying his face into the flyer, sighing deeply before turning on his heels to stroll elsewhere.

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Samson reads the poster, a smirk curling up his lips, "Oh, did you? How... curious." Samson turns, walking off down the road, laughing as he goes. "Oh dear, oh dear oh dear oh dear..."

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The vagabond accepts the paper from the equally-filthy child and looks at it with confusion. She then gives the child her filter mask and promptly catches the plague afterwards.

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In the southern jungle, a woman begins to write onto a paper. It is a list of true Grudges. It's a short list, and now, it bears the name 'Shatter Mask.'

"A debt of death is to be repaid in kind." She says, bitterly.

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Men stand along the streets, carrying dead babies in their arms. All have been affected in rural countries and even urban areas such as Kaldonia. They all mourn equally for their children; joyful lives that had been reduced to a fine dust because of this terrible plague. One of each swore to avenge the fallen of the Plague, and when the notes came the chant for hunting began.

 

The masses of the world do not exchange forgiveness for genocide.

The masses of the world do not sympathize for murderers and necromancers.

 

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We hunt.

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Samson watches the angry men, and chuckles to himself. His mind comes to a cave. To a fight. To a sword. A Greatsword. Perhaps, he thought. If they come, they will meet this sword of mine.. and we will see what powers it possesses. He cackles softly, walking off.

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