"This stuff stinks," Jyriah complained as he watched the vat of bubbling green liquid so it didn't spill over.
"Yep. We usually put scents in it to make it bearable, but as you can tell, we're fresh out." Joss replied and pat his better half on the shoulder. "You can do this though, it won't kill you."
"...What if it does?" Jyriah asked with big doe eyes and a feigned 'innocent' sound in his words.
"Then I will miss you and cry for you everyday," Joss replied with a smile and leaned in to kiss the handsome male on the cheek. "I love you."
"I love you, too - I /guess/ your plan is worth dying for..." the coal-fire haired male replied with a big ol' grin.
"So what is the plan again?" Metas asked as he looked around at all the souls doing some form of work - tearing up green plants, grinding out said plants, boiling leaves, adding different stones and watching the fires of each vat of liquid.
"We're going to put this paste all around the mountain and let it dry. After it does, we can light it with Vincent's fire and put a seal around the opening, keeping the energy from that blast in a contained space." Joss explained like it was something Metas knew anything about.
"Oh...okay. Well, I trust your plan. Are you sure I can't help?" The newly recognized King asked uncomfortably (he hated being on the sidelines).
"I'm sure, but I'll let you know if I change my mind," the silver-haired scholar replied and looked very uncomfortable as he did so. Who wanted to say no to their King?
"This is unfortunate. I don't think I've ever been useless before," Metas replied dejectedly.
"You're not useless, my Alpha. You're just not needed right now." Joss attempted to lessen the feeling of frustration for him, but based on Metas' gold eyes - it wasn't working.
Metas let out a soft grunt of disapproval and then sighed. He hadn't realized it until today - but he had never relegated anything to anyone other than himself. He wasn't used to having support or not doing something on his own.
It would seem he had hidden trust issues.
"You keep us together, Metas. You are why we have hope. You are why we are fighting back. You don't have to do everything. All of these wolves are here to work for you and help us regain the mountain back. You've done your part, so let us do ours," Jyriah lightly lectured and looked back towards the black-haired leader. He had never seen the Alpha have such a face full of confusion and doubt before.
"I should do that and be helping with this project too." Metas denied the comfort being offered to him and instead merely grumbled.
"You are far too hard on yourself, brother." Jyriah noted and reached out to put a firm squeeze on Metas' arm. "Go find my sister and take your frustrations out on her." That did not come out at all as he intended.
"What? Why would you suggest--- I see." Metas understood Jyriah enough now to know what he meant. "You said that oddly and it sounded as thought you suggested I hit my wife..."
"Yeah, you hit Myranda, and you won't have to worry about not having something to do anymore," the warrior 'warned' - but there wasn't really any heat or bite behind his veiled threats.
"I would hope so," the Alpha responded uneasily as he tried to adjust to having nothing to really do as a King.
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Harbinger glowered at the small metallic object that could apparently destroy so much. A small little metal box with buttons that he could not read, but was nearly done decoding it.
Well. Not him - but the scholars and mages he put in charge of deciphering a dead language. Only a few things had been discovered, like the numbers and a few small words that said 'arm' and 'active'.
There must have been some sort of code he had to type in, but as he had learned with the previous two, trying too many times locked one out of the device and then rendered the weapon useless.
Goddess, had he tried so hard the other night to set his plan in motion, only to be set back again as the same kind of screen like the one he was holding blinked red, and no matter how many times he turned it off and then back on - that damn red screen was there spouting the runes: E R R O R.
This new one looked less complex than the others, though. Two little metal switches, a red button, and two separate pads with the same kind of runes as the screen, and some different ones (still called numbers in some other cultures).
A B C D E F G and 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 0 were lined up side by side, merely awaiting input.
This was his last chance, too. That damn blood pendant had run out, and there was no more room for error. He wasn't too worried, though. No one had seen Metas or any of the rebels who had left with him.
After a massive search and lots of threats, he had finally decided to unseal the tunnels - but no one was allowed up, and no one was allowed down.
After the deaths of their loved ones, so many were out of the fight that they just submitted. Moral had hit a new low now that everyone believed Metas had been killed, and Harbinger was their new Alpha.
Things were looking up for the old General and so-called "king". The only tiny thing that was wrong - was his daughter's disappearance. It bothered him very little, but when it did stick in his mind, it felt like an annoying nerve-like pain that ached until he put his mind on something else like the fact that he had won.
Metas was dead, the revolution was squashed, and now he was about to have a fantastic weapon to use against all of the other tribes across the world since he didn't need to use it now that his goals had been achieved.
What was the use in destroying everything now that all seemed to be well and good? Even if it went sour, he could torch everything to the ground in an instant.
The feeling was thrilling, and deeply comforting to him.
Harbinger was in total control.