Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-25363089-20190131225052/@comment-25389303-20190310220212

Orpheus visibly strained against the ghostly hands holding him in place, powerful muscles tensing and contracting in an effort to break free. Too late, however, as Nickelae's storm of Dust quickly enveloped the man, quickly freezing him from the neck-down.

The giant's head shook in frustration at the icy prison trapping him, unable to summon sufficient strength in his frozen limbs to break free. After struggling in vain for several moments, he eventually looked up.

"This...isn't over yet..." he growled. Behind them, all present could hear the sound of police cars pulling up outside the auction house. No doubt officers would be swarming the scene soon enough.

"Don't flatter yourself, Orphy," Zobet replied, resting his arms on his staff, which he balanced across his shoulders. Turning to briefly glance in the direction of the alleyway's entrance, he eventually smiled at Nickelae - an amused glint in his ink-black eyes.

"Thank you for the assist, young man. I'd have had to spend the entire day hitting him, had you not been here." His hand fell to Widowgast's Tome, which still rested securely at his side. "But I'm afraid this is where we part ways. Active crimescene, and all that. Ta ta!"

With a wave of his hand, the skeletal man quickly turned to leave, heading away from the sound of sirens and shouting.

"Zobet."

The man paused as Orpheus' now-calm voice filled the air. For some reason, there was a bemused edge to it.

"I'll be back," Orpheus promised. "I always come back. And when I do, I'll finish what I started."

Zobet was silent for a while, his face pensive and clouded. Eventually, he turned and resumed his walk.

"I don't doubt it," he muttered under his breath.