Thread: ATM II RPG
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Old 06-13-2006, 04:25 PM   #85
Celuien
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Join Date: May 2005
Location: Assigned to Mordor
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Celuien has just left Hobbiton.
Panakeia watched Anakron's robes flutter down the hall. She was fuming. She had no idea what Anakron was? Panakeia thought she did. He was a pouting child, determined to wreak havoc and let slip the dogs of war on an unsuspecting world merely because...she didn't know why. If this wasn't a reaction to her earlier (admittedly bad) behavior, she didn't know what else it could be, unless Mount Doom really did retain some of its prior evil. That thought had not occurred to Panakeia. Womb of the Ring. Anakron was right, though Panakeia would have preferred the word tomb. The Ring was dead. Sauron was gone. And yet, she supposed it was possible that some of their evil lived still. Perhaps that, coupled with irritation with her, was why Anakron now behaved so badly.

Stop trying to figure him out.
The reason behind Anakron's sudden change in character did not matter. What mattered was that a man in control of a powerful force was now behaving in a most out-of-control fashion. Panakeia had to stop him. It was her duty, not only because she cared about Anakron, but also because the planet was in danger of annihilation. Panakeia's thoughts hiccupped. Planet? What an odd word. She'd heard someone use it before. But who? She shrugged to herself.

Anakron's robes floated around a corner. He was leaving. No! He can't get away! The thought, urgent and frantic, screamed in her mind's ear. She had to stop him. She had to bring him to his senses, or at least pose a roadblock to his more malevolent behaviors. Yes. That was what she would do. Anakron had given her back her conscience. He now seemed to have lost his own. Panakeia couldn't convey the Dweomer and give it back to him, but she could serve in its stead until he found it himself. She chuckled grimly. Anakron would know what she had gone through when her own conscience took form and spoke to her. Only this time, Anakron's replacement nagging conscience would have both physical and mental form. Panakeia.

She was off in a flash. Racing down the hall, she caught up to Anakron and tapped him on the shoulder, a stubborn glint in her eye.

"Excuse me. You seem to have lost something."

Anakron looked her over, contempt in his expression. "Lost something?" he mocked. "You could not possibly refer to yourself, could you? I have the distinct impression I decided to be rid of you quite intentionally. No accident or mistake was involved."

Panakeia gritted her teeth. Anakron was going out of his way to hurt her. But she had a mission. Personal feelings were irrelevant.

"Not me. Yourself. Your conscience. You said I could leave. Well, I might. I'll admit the thought had occurred to me. But not yet. You see, Anakron, you gave me back my conscience. Now that you appear to have lost your own, I thought I'd repay the favor by being your conscience for you. At least until you come to your senses. After that...after that, we'll see. And you said it was only my pride speaking when I tried to help you. I won't reply to that. But whether I'm acting out of pride or love doesn't matter. It's your well-being that's at stake."

She stopped, more determined about this than anything in her life, past, present, or future. Yes, this was her mission. Of that she was certain.
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