OoC: Well, this is about 3,000 words shorter than my recent intros but it'll do. I'll be using
Famulus.
BiC:
Famulus sat silently in a heavy wooden chair. His right, armoured arm was cast across his face. A ray of sunshine fell through the open armoury window, illuminating the angel’s magnificent body armour. Its shining white surface was blinding to look at. His hazel eyes were glazed over, staring at the stone floor through the crook of his arm. He was swaying unhealthily. He was drunk.
He got up suddenly, his hand sweeping the chair from under him. His eyes were suddenly alive, a deep fury within. He slammed up the armoury door, entering out into the camp courtyard. The moon was h high in the sky. The stars shone brightly. The celestial light did little to enhance the glow from the angelic suit of armour Famulus wore. By its light, he could easily see where he was going, though his drunken state wasn’t much help. The general wandered slowly over to a lone tent. His body rocked dangerously as he walked.
His armoured hand tore open the tent door, his screeching commands bursting through the doorway. “Lustro, wake up!”
Lustro Cicero woke suddenly, startled by the sight of his drunken, swaying father. It wasn’t the first time he had been woken in such a fashion.
“Ready... hic... ready Fastida! I’m going searching for him!”
Not again, thought the young angel. His father couldn’t let the past go. The very purpose of this camp was to investigate Mesfido’s whereabouts and doings. Famulus Cicero was on the verge of madness, Lustro knew it. Just two days ago, the general had drunk himself into a fearful rage. He had started tearing shelves from walls and tossing chairs out of windows, shouting all the time that Mesfido was somewhere in the camp, hiding. He kept saying “He’s so close! I can feel him!” There had been nothing that Lustro could do to calm his father. Eventually Famulus collapsed in his bed, exhausted. The soldiers had said he continued screamed in his sleep, tossing and turning.
“Father, you must rest. Now it n-”
“Now is the perfect time!” Famulus’ eyes were a pair of flames, flickering dangerously as he spat every syllable. “If you won’t get her, I will!”
The general spun, remarkably well considering how much alcohol was in his system, and headed towards the stable.
Lustro hated seeing his father like this. He knew nothing he could do or say would help, but he had to at least try. The young angel hopped sleepily from his bed and chased after his father. He put his hand on Famulus’ armoured shoulder. The general stopped for a second.
“Father...”
“Lustro, he’s out there, mocking me. I will find him. I swear it.” Something very rare was visible in Famulus’ face; sadness. He pushed his sons hand from him and strode across the courtyard, suddenly looked much more sober.
Famulus Cicero entered the stables. Fastida, his pegasus had her own private area, far away from the common horses. He pushed open the door of her enclosure. The sad look was still set on his face. It wasn’t for himself that he felt it but rather his son. Lustro failed to understand his father. Famulus pitied him, mainly for the compassion he had. He would never be a true warrior with a weakness like that. It saddened the general to think his son was such a failure.
The angelic commander hoisted a gold threaded saddle from the high stable wall. He lifted it onto Fastida’s powerful back, placing it just between her massive, white wings. The pegasus gave a snort, smelling the strong scent of alcohol that radiated from Famulus. “Shush now. We’re going searching.” He pulled himself atop the saddle, his armour clicking as he moved. Fastida had no reins, nor did she need them. The angel tightened his legs around her and wrapped his arms around her neck. She unfurled her wings and set off into the dark night sky.