Rikyn the Puppeteer Posts: 549
| Aurora Basin Lord atk: 7.5 | def: 11.5 | dam: 4.5 |
| Stallion :: Unicorn :: 16.3 :: 4 HP: 70 | Buff: SWIFT |
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Duir :: Royal Cerndyr :: Earth Spirit
Bunnie |
sweet bitter words, unlike nothing I have heard:
I’m formulating insults while she’s still screaming, mostly because she’s threatening me. Me, the full grown stallion, with a hell of a lot more battle badges than this cockless, cocky little runt. All my frustrations are funneled into a narrow point, so that my blood begins to throb in my temples and head, a frown furrowed so deeply into my features that I’m unsure I’ll ever be able to regain a normal expression again. I’m just about to let her really have it when the stone lucklessly tumbles down onto the cavern floor, right underneath her horrid little hoof.
The sound fills the cavern more so than the shrill, blood curdling shouts of the bitch in training. I have enough time to begin to throw aside my carefully plotted, acidic shouts of murder to mouth the word, “no,” before my wide-eyed, rather horrified self is trapped in the throws of the Time God’s magic rock of evil.
"No, you may not keep it," I angrily grunt, managing that through the magical stupor as her bird fondles the stone next, causing the curse to fluctuate between Merlin’s desires, and her bonded’s, "I’ll kill your heinous little pet if I have to, if the guy it actually belongs to doesn’t first."
If she’s lucky, that is. I’m sure the Time God could do much worse than simply kill someone. That’s petty, mortal level punishment; why bother, when you could throw someone into a timeless void, or an alternate dimension of liquid space?
As the bird sets the stone down against her back, the curse equalizes, and the spell rends thoughts of the God from my mind, forcing me to dwell on what is present; the world swims, as if I am drunk, or suffering from a terrible fever, as I struggle against the magic, really, really not wanting to fall under her control at all.
Faggot? is tracery thought as my ears fall back. I manage a rough, bark of laughter in reply to her comment about her being anything more than a whelp with a bad mouth.
"You are a child, not a lady," I remark with a smile, meant to be a smirk (the faint bewilderment I manage to feel at this irreparable mistake flickering through my golden eyes), feeling my annoyance with her slipping away, being replaced, instead, with a desire to make her like me, to be witty, and charming… "thereby you would know nothing of a man."
I don’t know either, if the question is “what is being a man about?” So far, all I’ve figured out is to be nice to women as often as you can, unless they have no manners. Then… I don’t know what to do with them, manner-less or otherwise. Do you lock the wild ones away in a cave? And what do you do with the others, after you’ve decided they truly are ladies?
Just keep smiling, and telling them joke, and stories of your people, your home, yourself? Hope that they lay down with you at night, like Xynia, and ignite a small ember inside that is more truly warm than any fire has ever dreamt of blooming?
Why do I have to think of her, while I am trapped? Those memories, stained, too…
"I am strong, and clever," I tell her, the powerful magic forcing me to be warm, delighted to be in her company, though inwardly, the diminutive me screams, and pummels the walls of his prison, "I have survived on my own in the wild, and have tested myself against the strongest in Helovia, Gods too. What more could one want in a man? Divinity? That is not offered freely in this land."
[ OOC: Lol I apparently decided to use the wrong table last post. Oops. ;_; ]
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sing along, mockingbird; you don't affect me.
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Image by TheArtlex@DA
@Merlin
Wishlist - Plots
Force/violence is allowed to be used on Rikyn permitted it does not permanently maim or kill him (PM me!).
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[P] pain's not ashamed to repeat itself
