[ Everyone loved a spectacle. Silco, in particular, knew the power of manipulating the people -- and thus was more than happy to do his part. He even strode up, obvious, not even invisible, even though he so often lurked the corners and kept to the shadows. It was how he operated within Achamoth because while he could appreciate spectacle, there was so much value in not being found. Here though -- in the thrumming, excited masses, in the seat of the Regent's power, Silco very openly carried the shard his part of the way to the pyre. He hadn't really even bothered to pay attention to who he was carrying. Whoever they were would feel that same, hateful feeling that Silco so often had for... well pretty much everyone.
As soon as it's down, however, he was quick to blend into the crowd, his part completed, having realized the Regent's duty once again, he was quick to slip between figures -- and back out of the crowd. He had no interest in watching the burning, because he very well knewaway from the fires. Seemingly to slip into an alley, although he's easily stopped for conversation, if one wants. He had been up there rather obviously, assisting with lashing the shard to that ornate pyre.
Or perhaps you catch him somewhat after, smoking a cigar a block or two away, as he surveyed the area. He had a knife strapped into his coat, hidden from view. He certainly looked relaxed, but with every puff of the cigar, his hand held it loosely, ready to drop it at the first possible sign of trouble. Closer to a... coiled snake, seemingly lazy, but ready to strike when it was time. ]
II. Pre-Raid - OTA
[ As Silco slipped through the streets of Achamoth, he's quick to keep his eyes alternating between the skies and the streets, as if he can sense the atmosphere slowly encroaching. As the sun begins its descent -- just starting to slip lower than the tallest buildings in the sky, an array of orange and golden hues took the streets, and the Man with a black and orange eye watched . Even your average Achamite, if they looked even remotely suspicious, Silco would follow them, and if they looked back too many times, he would vanish from view, only to keep following them, listening until he was satisfied that they were just Achamites.
Then there was the smoking. If he wasn't looking for suspicious figures, he was lurking, a cigar in hand, puffing away at it, the foul scent filled the air, the smoke cloying and heavy, as if he had chosen the foulest, cheapest, stinkiest cigars he could. He enjoyed the finer things, but sometimes... sometimes one wanted the kind that burned his lungs in a way that only outright pollution could. He blew one at a figure passing by, just to see them react -- if just to see what they would do when they did it.
He knew something was going to happen. The waiting though... that was both an addictive high, and nauseating, all in one.
Hence so many cigars. ]
Early on - Closed to CAITLYN
[ It hasn't appeared, which would have gotten Silco moving in an entirely different direction. He's watching for It, waiting.
As he stalked the streets, invisible, he's about to turn, and go in another direction when he saw something -- high up, over the ledge of a building. He can only see it because he's looking. The glint of --
His eyes narrow. The hair is the giveaway, and Silco's lips spread into a smile. What could sate his fury of the thing that hadn't shown yet? What could sate his lust to hurt something? It was the Enforcer. It couldn't be anyone else. He crept up the metal scaffolding, invisible all the while, silent as the grave as he climbed up the outside of the building. He was no teenager, but he'd been a Sump Rat all the same as a boy, and muscle memory really did keep him going, slipping up with barely a sound, and then he was up, on the ledge of a building. His boots -- now customized to keep his steps silent -- he crept, slowly, his knife already out of the holster at his back, already in an attack position as he moved forward, quiet.
Silco though, he can't help himself. He's dramatic, and he wants someone to know who is doing it. He can't help himself. After so much time hiding, sneaking, selling out his fellows within the sect, it feels good to inch closer, and utter: ]
Look who it is.
[ And he lashes with the knife, it's fast, but not inhumanly so, and the moment he attacks, the invisibility he'd come to rely on dropped immediately, now that he was out of combat. ]
[ ooc; if you would like a specific TL, hit me up! you can PM, ping me in the disc, or hit up my plotting comment for something specific! ]
Silco | Kenoma | Visionary
[ Everyone loved a spectacle. Silco, in particular, knew the power of manipulating the people -- and thus was more than happy to do his part. He even strode up, obvious, not even invisible, even though he so often lurked the corners and kept to the shadows. It was how he operated within Achamoth because while he could appreciate spectacle, there was so much value in not being found. Here though -- in the thrumming, excited masses, in the seat of the Regent's power, Silco very openly carried the shard his part of the way to the pyre. He hadn't really even bothered to pay attention to who he was carrying. Whoever they were would feel that same, hateful feeling that Silco so often had for... well pretty much everyone.
As soon as it's down, however, he was quick to blend into the crowd, his part completed, having realized the Regent's duty once again, he was quick to slip between figures -- and back out of the crowd. He had no interest in watching the burning, because he very well knewaway from the fires. Seemingly to slip into an alley, although he's easily stopped for conversation, if one wants. He had been up there rather obviously, assisting with lashing the shard to that ornate pyre.
Or perhaps you catch him somewhat after, smoking a cigar a block or two away, as he surveyed the area. He had a knife strapped into his coat, hidden from view. He certainly looked relaxed, but with every puff of the cigar, his hand held it loosely, ready to drop it at the first possible sign of trouble. Closer to a... coiled snake, seemingly lazy, but ready to strike when it was time. ]
II. Pre-Raid - OTA
[ As Silco slipped through the streets of Achamoth, he's quick to keep his eyes alternating between the skies and the streets, as if he can sense the atmosphere slowly encroaching. As the sun begins its descent -- just starting to slip lower than the tallest buildings in the sky, an array of orange and golden hues took the streets, and the Man with a black and orange eye watched . Even your average Achamite, if they looked even remotely suspicious, Silco would follow them, and if they looked back too many times, he would vanish from view, only to keep following them, listening until he was satisfied that they were just Achamites.
Then there was the smoking. If he wasn't looking for suspicious figures, he was lurking, a cigar in hand, puffing away at it, the foul scent filled the air, the smoke cloying and heavy, as if he had chosen the foulest, cheapest, stinkiest cigars he could. He enjoyed the finer things, but sometimes... sometimes one wanted the kind that burned his lungs in a way that only outright pollution could. He blew one at a figure passing by, just to see them react -- if just to see what they would do when they did it.
He knew something was going to happen. The waiting though... that was both an addictive high, and nauseating, all in one.
Hence so many cigars. ]
Early on - Closed to CAITLYN
[ It hasn't appeared, which would have gotten Silco moving in an entirely different direction. He's watching for It, waiting.
As he stalked the streets, invisible, he's about to turn, and go in another direction when he saw something -- high up, over the ledge of a building. He can only see it because he's looking. The glint of --
His eyes narrow. The hair is the giveaway, and Silco's lips spread into a smile. What could sate his fury of the thing that hadn't shown yet? What could sate his lust to hurt something? It was the Enforcer. It couldn't be anyone else. He crept up the metal scaffolding, invisible all the while, silent as the grave as he climbed up the outside of the building. He was no teenager, but he'd been a Sump Rat all the same as a boy, and muscle memory really did keep him going, slipping up with barely a sound, and then he was up, on the ledge of a building. His boots -- now customized to keep his steps silent -- he crept, slowly, his knife already out of the holster at his back, already in an attack position as he moved forward, quiet.
Silco though, he can't help himself. He's dramatic, and he wants someone to know who is doing it. He can't help himself. After so much time hiding, sneaking, selling out his fellows within the sect, it feels good to inch closer, and utter: ]
Look who it is.
[ And he lashes with the knife, it's fast, but not inhumanly so, and the moment he attacks, the invisibility he'd come to rely on dropped immediately, now that he was out of combat. ]
[ ooc; if you would like a specific TL, hit me up! you can PM, ping me in the disc, or hit up my plotting comment for something specific! ]