08-25-2021, 12:10 PM
Raum isn't afraid to bleed a little, and considering his propensity for rock hopping through the mountains, maybe it's just as well. The little scuffs an scrapes that turn his gold coat rusty have never troubled him, but they've always been accidental. He's never hurt himself on purpose, so the suggestion by Malik that he do so is met with curiosity.
He approaches the statue of Starlace with some hesitation, not because he is afraid of it, but because he's not certain that whatever lives within the Entity to mete out her gifts is wholly contained within its granite edges, and he wants to be well away before she is able to reach out and grab him. (That she would be able to do so regardless of how far he leapt does not concern him, it barely even occurs to him.) So he approaches her with elastic knees, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.
None comes, of course. He looks back at Malik's worried face and flashes another crooked grin. Nothing to worry about!
"Wait. I mean, that sounds fun and we should do it, too, but..." Without finishing his thought the boy turns back to the statue with its serrated sharkskin shoulder, and without giving himself time to think about it, he presses his lips against the blood-stained mark in a razor-bladed kiss. The soft flesh of his muzzle slices easily and bleeds profusely from a dozen painless cuts. Its only after he pulls away again that the lacerations start to sting and burn.
Nothing happens. There's no change to him at all, no wings, no horn, no crackle of lightning, no nothing.
"It didn't work," the boy says, and the irritation in his young voice is palpable, because it isn't fair. It shouldn't matter if he doesn't know all the rules. He fought with Parish before - like all the time - and he bled.
"I thought you said this is how it's s'posedta work?" He looks back at Malik only briefly because there's anger welling in his breast again at the injustice of it, but it is not directed at the striped boy. Instead, Raum round on the statue, rearing up a challenge against the stubborn, withholding bit of useless art. The stone rings when his hooves clatter against it, and - sure that this must at last awaken the contrary Entity dreaming within - he spins quickly, kicking out at her again and darting behind Malik.
Still nothing happens. His breathing slows after a moment of pure, shocked, silence. Then he laughs blithely, full of all the adrenaline of disaster avoided.
"Maybe we go steal someone fir--" His face distorts. A wet CRACK! fills the air between the boys and Raum exclaims wordlessly, falling to the ground while the valley turns thick with the sound of splintering and the boy's sharp squealing. Each hoof breaks apart, spilling blood over the cold ground and filling his already ruby eyes with a red haze of pain.
He's sure it lasts an eternity. He's sure he's old and grown when the snapping and the popping and the pain finally subside to a dull throb and the hot tears streaming down his cheeks are chill against his skin. All four feet have been cloven in two, burning and bleeding and sore, and he dares not stand up.
"I... I..."
Popinjay's son is left wordless by the Entity's revenge, whatever he is trying to say dies away on his lips as he looks up at Malik but the anger in his heart is not apologetic in the least. It's evident in the way he glares and snarls when he looks back at the unmoved statue looking so perfectly pleased with itself.
"Where?" he asks, dragging his furious gaze back to Malik. Where are they going to steal someone from?
He approaches the statue of Starlace with some hesitation, not because he is afraid of it, but because he's not certain that whatever lives within the Entity to mete out her gifts is wholly contained within its granite edges, and he wants to be well away before she is able to reach out and grab him. (That she would be able to do so regardless of how far he leapt does not concern him, it barely even occurs to him.) So he approaches her with elastic knees, ready to spring away at the first sign of danger.
None comes, of course. He looks back at Malik's worried face and flashes another crooked grin. Nothing to worry about!
"Wait. I mean, that sounds fun and we should do it, too, but..." Without finishing his thought the boy turns back to the statue with its serrated sharkskin shoulder, and without giving himself time to think about it, he presses his lips against the blood-stained mark in a razor-bladed kiss. The soft flesh of his muzzle slices easily and bleeds profusely from a dozen painless cuts. Its only after he pulls away again that the lacerations start to sting and burn.
Nothing happens. There's no change to him at all, no wings, no horn, no crackle of lightning, no nothing.
"It didn't work," the boy says, and the irritation in his young voice is palpable, because it isn't fair. It shouldn't matter if he doesn't know all the rules. He fought with Parish before - like all the time - and he bled.
"I thought you said this is how it's s'posedta work?" He looks back at Malik only briefly because there's anger welling in his breast again at the injustice of it, but it is not directed at the striped boy. Instead, Raum round on the statue, rearing up a challenge against the stubborn, withholding bit of useless art. The stone rings when his hooves clatter against it, and - sure that this must at last awaken the contrary Entity dreaming within - he spins quickly, kicking out at her again and darting behind Malik.
Still nothing happens. His breathing slows after a moment of pure, shocked, silence. Then he laughs blithely, full of all the adrenaline of disaster avoided.
"Maybe we go steal someone fir--" His face distorts. A wet CRACK! fills the air between the boys and Raum exclaims wordlessly, falling to the ground while the valley turns thick with the sound of splintering and the boy's sharp squealing. Each hoof breaks apart, spilling blood over the cold ground and filling his already ruby eyes with a red haze of pain.
He's sure it lasts an eternity. He's sure he's old and grown when the snapping and the popping and the pain finally subside to a dull throb and the hot tears streaming down his cheeks are chill against his skin. All four feet have been cloven in two, burning and bleeding and sore, and he dares not stand up.
"I... I..."
Popinjay's son is left wordless by the Entity's revenge, whatever he is trying to say dies away on his lips as he looks up at Malik but the anger in his heart is not apologetic in the least. It's evident in the way he glares and snarls when he looks back at the unmoved statue looking so perfectly pleased with itself.
"Where?" he asks, dragging his furious gaze back to Malik. Where are they going to steal someone from?
Raum*
in every bird a black thought
@Malik
Please tag ratty or Raum* (<--with the asterisk) in threads!