Madra, The Talon Gates
"Of course I'm afraid of them," Lance said, rolling his eyes. "You'd be a fool not to be. A single Praetor could wipe the floor with all ten of us, Planeswalkers or not. As for my face, I'm sorry to say, but the approval of little pixies is not something I strive--or even care--for."
Thayshia glared at Lance, her wings starting to flare up. It was clear she was seething, yet she managed an amused half-smirk anyway.
“Hah. There you have it, folks!” She cheered, throwing one hand in the air theatrically. “The weensy angel is wetting his pants, and that’s why he’s giving up on a whole plane just like that! Glad we got that clear and outta the way, otherwise I might’ve actually thought of you as worth something.” Her face fell into a scowl and her eyes became two glaring slits as she almost whispered: “As for my size...”
She gathered all the patience she had to keep herself from clawing out the angel’s eyes. “Out of all the things, you decided to attack it. Ran out of things to pick at and went with the obvious choice? How cute. Too bad I hate cute, sissy-boy.” The flames around her grew along with her anger. "Never insult my height again unless you want the hairs of your ass roasted and force-fed to you, fuckface.”
She really didn't care about the shit going on with the archon after that, all she knew that she had finally found out who she hated more, the skank or the wannabe angel. So she was content to just watching, her small form almost ablaze as the others almost started another fight right then and there.
Rckaird found that none of the people present seemed capable of understanding what he was doing, from the sounds of it. They all talked as if no law bound them – as if they were free to do whatever they willed. They were exactly the kind of beings that caused chaos and unrest. They were teetering on the line separating the foolish from the malevolent, and should they ever cross, Rckaird believed he needed to do more than just slap their fingers as he had been doing up until now. He was surprised to see even the lionin believing himself to be free of law through an excuse of the Multiverse being too large – its size did not matter. He would bring peace regardless. Rckaird did not shy from a challenge where the reward was for everyone to live without the fear of crime. The archon had ages ago stopped heeding whatever came from the woman’s mouth, and the faux angel’s attempt to talk him down he found amusing at best. For him to actually be so petty as to get caught up on the term he used… very well then.
“It would seem some clarification is in order for those of you with simpler minds,” he spoke as he turned to Lance, looking past the lionin in front of him as if he wasn’t there at all. “I am the Judge, and I am the jury. I am the executioner, and I am the law itself. This was a duty appointed to me by the worlds themselves, and by each and every people who needed salvation. My name is spoken with praise in many a world by people thankful for being rid of crime and fear, and it is knowing that people like that exist, that they are helped by my actions that I will continue to carry out my duty, no matter how many heretics or ignorant fools set themselves above the rules and attempt to stand in my way.”
He raised his blade, its surface reflecting light for a fleeting moment before he sheathed it and stood still once more.
“I will stay, for it is my duty to do so. But I will not bend the law to allow for heretics to roam free and pass halfhearted judgement over the innocent. If the priest will not realize his place, I am forced to remind him of it." He looked down at the priest. He hoped that would not be necessary, and actually partly believed it would not be; if the priest truly served good as he claimed, then his name alone should have made him realize his mistake and seek to never repeat it again.