08-26-2018, 03:16 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-size: 9.4pt; line-height: 1.4;"]The owl feared him- good. It was unlikely he'd come to any harm by Sparrow's sword, as he was completely uninterested in his life, but the cloying apprehension scent was satisfying. Sparrow preferred to be feared; it meant they were less likely to pry, liable to giving him a wide berth where he walked, and when they stared, disgust was not the primary expression: distress of what he could do was. It made him feel real, and while he preferred to remain in the shadows to avoid gazes altogether, if they looked upon him with fear, he was not just a revolting arrangement of mechanical parts. Except he couldn't quiet the turmoil, the shreds of his former self whispering about how he was no longer his father's son. He was no one's son. Sparrow was a mistake, who simultaneously hated and enjoyed what he shouldn't, like the obvious unease in the young owl even as he thanked him. If only he knew Sparrow didn't do it for him, and he could tell him, yet chose not to, saying nothing in response to his gratitude.
The stench became stronger when some other member of Sunhaven arrived, and Sparrow believed this was the one who ran from him when he arrived days ago. He hadn't seen her, but he had smelled her. Beneath the metal, what was left of his mouth drew into a sneer, pulling sharply at burned skin. "Didn't I?" The owl -amusingly- defended Sparrow's choice, and he wondered whether he truly believed what he said, or if it was driven out of obligation to Sparrow. Or, even better, maybe he didn't want to risk questioning the person with the sword. Wise, but he'd killed people for less.
There was no pride in that.
Ignoring those thoughts, his bleeding gaze shifted to the owl's leg, swollen from whatever he'd done to it. He clenched his jaw, metal shifting, stare briefly sliding over to Monroe, before leaving the feline dismissively, unresponsive to the command. Instead of dragging the body off with the nervous Gordon, Sparrow swiftly walked up the trunk of the tree, as though gravity was but a word, and sometimes it was, with the things this abomination of a body allowed him to do. He gave the owl a flat look. After a moment, he said, "If you can't fall properly, stand on the metal of my back." The offer was not spoken magnanimously, and his voice sharpened with warning when Sparrow added, "Touch the skin and you will burn with the mutt."
[align=right]INFORMATION
The stench became stronger when some other member of Sunhaven arrived, and Sparrow believed this was the one who ran from him when he arrived days ago. He hadn't seen her, but he had smelled her. Beneath the metal, what was left of his mouth drew into a sneer, pulling sharply at burned skin. "Didn't I?" The owl -amusingly- defended Sparrow's choice, and he wondered whether he truly believed what he said, or if it was driven out of obligation to Sparrow. Or, even better, maybe he didn't want to risk questioning the person with the sword. Wise, but he'd killed people for less.
There was no pride in that.
Ignoring those thoughts, his bleeding gaze shifted to the owl's leg, swollen from whatever he'd done to it. He clenched his jaw, metal shifting, stare briefly sliding over to Monroe, before leaving the feline dismissively, unresponsive to the command. Instead of dragging the body off with the nervous Gordon, Sparrow swiftly walked up the trunk of the tree, as though gravity was but a word, and sometimes it was, with the things this abomination of a body allowed him to do. He gave the owl a flat look. After a moment, he said, "If you can't fall properly, stand on the metal of my back." The offer was not spoken magnanimously, and his voice sharpened with warning when Sparrow added, "Touch the skin and you will burn with the mutt."
[align=right]INFORMATION
[align=center][div style="font-size:16pt; font-family:impact; color:black; padding:10px; letter-spacing:.5px; opacity:;"]I NEED THAT FIRE JUST TO KNOW THAT I'M [color=#b24455]AWAKE