Dangerous Minds (Apocalypse/Horsemen)

[Death]

Death was destructive force when she was on a mission, she was a tidal wave of despair when she had a goal, but now she was bored and that boredom was soon to be the axe that beheaded all that was civilization.

The blonde horsemen strode into the courtroom of Apocalypse, her dark robes moving about her exposed hips. She was flamboyantly dressed in her leather and linens her boots strapped up to her thighs and her gauntlets decorated with intricate embroidery. She reached the throne of her mighty leader and bowed her head before striding up to his chair and sitting delicately upon one of the arm rests.

"My lord, are you pleased with me?" Asked Death, her silky voice filling the throne room, empty but the two of them. "Do you find pleasure in my completion of your bidding?"
Her red stained lips fell close to her masters ear her voice filled with raw desire. "If you are so pleased with her servant, send me to destroy your enemies. Send me to destroy your slaves. I crave their blood to run like rivers... I crave their corpses to decorate the streets."
Lifting her shoulders she sat up straight, and looked to her masters strong face awaiting his answer, his bidding, his touch.

[Apocalypse]

As useful as Death had proved herself to be, Apocalypse was quite above her constant attempts to throw her body at him. Such carnal things had long since lost their bite for him. He had desires of a grander nature, a destiny that left no place for distractions of the flesh. Flesh was weak, which was why he had upgraded himself with the celestial technology so long ago. He had supreme control of his body, if only she did.

"The Brood...I have not received any feedback from your lair, if you want to see your lord satisfied, why not aid them in applying your trade?" she was after all Death, and the Brood, if properly used could deal quite an amount. The First Mutant crossed his arms at his chest, his face stern and constant.

[Death]

Death felt her throat tighten as she was leaned towards him again. "The Brood are only just tools, I long to destroy with my bare hands. With my touch I could kill thousands...."
Though the Brood could create a grand panic for which she would have all the feral human's there to destroy, destroying as many as her heart desired.
But Death was so picky as to whom she chose, she wanted to take some one strong, some one who stood in their way.
"I long to rid the world of those who try to usurp your lands from you... perhaps, those damnable hellions?"