<div class="floatleft">(https://imgur.com/gctqCME.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong>Ramzi (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=303102.msg14805161#msg14805161)<br/><strong>Tagging | Mentioning:</strong>| Enoch<br/><strong>Location:</strong>Gaia, Unknown<br/><strong>Wearing:</strong>Dark pants and boots, with an open faced robe.<br/><strong>Mood:</strong>Turbulent, frustrated.<br/><hr/>Not one or two nor three or four, but five thousand years of service to them. Five long millennia spent hunting their enemies, servicing their proclamations, and dispensing their justice. Five thousand years doing a job that he had never wanted to do in lieu of his passion. And worst of all, he had not been allowed a single word. Not a warning, not chance to understand. He who had given up his life to their whims was cast aside no less forcefully than those that he had been sent after. Now he fell, cast from his home and stripped of the hope to take back those years for himself one day.<br/><br/>Hatred was a rare felt feeling in Ramzi, one like its opposite and all others he kept at bay to maintain objectivity in his duties. As he fell through the realms however, five thousand years of buried resentment boiled at the surface of his being and festered into a scathing hatred which burned hotter a desert sun.<br/><br/>As Ramzi plummeted through the sky he contemplated if this was some kind of mercy for all he had done. Certainly the Elysium had phrased it as such, but the pit left in his now mortal soul insisted otherwise.<em>Thud</em>. He crashed into the surface, kicking up a cloud of debris. As the cloud of dust settled around him, he watched as others fell. Those that had been with him. A more calm self would have wondered what they all had in common, but there was no calmness in him. His hands balled and slammed against the rough earth, and he lifted himself to his feet. Crouched his eyes, shot with blood tore into the sky. He looked past the others falling and into the cosmic distance. “<strong>ENOCH!</strong>” He belted, unbridled fury in his voice, “<strong>I WOULD SPEAK WITH YOU. ANSWER ME.</strong>”<br/><br/>But no answer came.<br/><br/>Ramzi slumped forward to his knees and pushed his hands effortlessly into the dirt. He pulled up the clumps and crushed it to powder in his palms, then allowed it to slip through his fingers and he watched it pile before him. There were more thoughts than he knew how to process. “<strong>Why…</strong>” He muttered, bitterness dripping from his word. He had done no wrong, of this he was sure. And so he knew his answers must lie with one or more of the others. It was a slow rise to his feet. An even slower pace as he moved toward the descent of the next to land. To the second to arrive, Ramzi offered his hand to help them to their feet. Facts before judgement, he reminded himself, though no mantra brought him true peace in this moment.<br/><br/>“<strong>We should gather the others,</strong>” He suggested, with hand extended. Piercing blue eyes scanned the individual for a clue as to who they were, or why perhaps they might have suffered this fate. “<strong>Who are you?</strong>” He questioned, doing a mostly poor job of hiding the spite that lingered in his syllables.