10-09-2019, 10:39 PM
[align=center][div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family: calibri; font-size: 10pt; line-height: 1.4;"]Well it wasn't like he ever got classes on how to be likable. Even if he had, the dog probably wouldn't have paid that much attention to it. He wasn't the schoolable sort of guy. He was impulsive and easily angered, snappy and impossible to get along with. He hid his insecurities behind a wall of fiery rage.... All in all, Redsteel was not the most positive creature around. Wormwood is not the first to hate him, and he sure won't be the last. There's still that itch in the back of his mind, whispering make it worse over and over. Push those buttons again, see what it took to make Worm snap at him. Violence and anger was easier than whatever this was. This weird disapproval based on first impressions. It sort of pisses him off, actually, that this guy is presuming to know enough about him to make any sort of fucking judgmental. But despite the narrowing of muddy green eyes, Redsteel doesn't do a thing. Witch wouldn't want him to, and anyway he's so, so tired.
"You say that like you're the first magician I've met," he scorns with a sharp, rather crass-sounding snort. Acting very bit the ill-born commoner he was, and not regretting one single millisecond of it. "You don't burn me, I won't turn you into a fucking zombie. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me." The way he was taught to fight powers was a strange one, sure, but effective nonetheless. Red had no powers he could fight back with, no pouring an imaginary bucket of water on the fire someone else creates. Instead, he tries to...well, it's sort of like he tries to reinforce reality's rules, slipping into their head and getting them to understand that this was not real, this was not the truth of their world. It was unkind, and Red hates the feeling of being in someone else's body. But it works.
These people probably haven't seen the world like he has. Like Witch has. What a world it must be, where magic is free to be used by anyone. The section of this island his home had called its own was secluded, fearful of the powers others wielded and might one day turn on them. Don't they cause more harm than good with these powers? He doesn't ask. Instead, Red scoffs again. Everything about this place is backwards. A group where it's rarer to have wings than to not, a place where magic is trusted and used freely. Where people lived in a fucking swamp. Maker that was a terrible idea.
"Tanglewood, huh? If you haven't seen him, I'll be movin' on soon. Don't worry about having a duplicate for too long. Got shit to do, you know. Rude-as-fuck Witch to find and all." Drained and once again low on hope, the canine twists to nibble lightly at a spot at the base of his wings, sighing through his teeth. "Redsteel'd work for the time being. Just in case. What about you though, big guy? Never introduced yourself."
"You say that like you're the first magician I've met," he scorns with a sharp, rather crass-sounding snort. Acting very bit the ill-born commoner he was, and not regretting one single millisecond of it. "You don't burn me, I won't turn you into a fucking zombie. Sounds like a pretty good deal to me." The way he was taught to fight powers was a strange one, sure, but effective nonetheless. Red had no powers he could fight back with, no pouring an imaginary bucket of water on the fire someone else creates. Instead, he tries to...well, it's sort of like he tries to reinforce reality's rules, slipping into their head and getting them to understand that this was not real, this was not the truth of their world. It was unkind, and Red hates the feeling of being in someone else's body. But it works.
These people probably haven't seen the world like he has. Like Witch has. What a world it must be, where magic is free to be used by anyone. The section of this island his home had called its own was secluded, fearful of the powers others wielded and might one day turn on them. Don't they cause more harm than good with these powers? He doesn't ask. Instead, Red scoffs again. Everything about this place is backwards. A group where it's rarer to have wings than to not, a place where magic is trusted and used freely. Where people lived in a fucking swamp. Maker that was a terrible idea.
"Tanglewood, huh? If you haven't seen him, I'll be movin' on soon. Don't worry about having a duplicate for too long. Got shit to do, you know. Rude-as-fuck Witch to find and all." Drained and once again low on hope, the canine twists to nibble lightly at a spot at the base of his wings, sighing through his teeth. "Redsteel'd work for the time being. Just in case. What about you though, big guy? Never introduced yourself."