DAY 22
He couldn’t believe his luck when he showed up. Oh yes, he’d recognize that dragon anywhere. Those green wings. Those red eyes.
He would always recognize him.
But stuck in a little cage now, was he? And so was he. How quaint.
The dragon twiddled his thumbs, the hood drawn over his eyes. They had put him in there a while ago. He knew he’d leave. He would leave. Nobody kept him in there. He was not angry that they’d put him in here. He had come here, searching, a wanderer.
And they’d brought his little bird right to him.
Little Bird, I will always know you.
That detective fellow, swaggering with his necklace jangling about his neck.
“Like I said, he’s dangerous,” The Guardian hoisted the gun in his claws higher. On the floor of the cell lay his Little Bird. Broken. Bent. “There’s proof right there.”
The Coatl with the green feathers shook herself, her shape changing as she relaxed her feathers.
“No doubt, he could’ve killed you,” Another Coatl, this one with her feathers marred by white, spoke. She wrinkled her nose at the Wildclaw. “And I hate to agree with you, detective.”
“I don’t mind,” He smiled at her. Her expression changed into one of disgust.
“...I was travelling with a- dangerous dragon,” The emerald one shivers.
“You didn’t know?”
“No, I didn’t…” She leaned against the bars pleading, “Detective, hear me out, there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“Mmmm, I don’t know, miss. I’m more inclined to believe the authorities over you.”
“But I can explain. Whatever crimes I’ve been convicted of, it’s because of him,” She jabbed a claw at Wendell. A flightless, dead bird. “He coerced me into taking him to the Viridian Labyrinth. I stole a two-week shipment because he would’ve killed me if I hadn’t. I nearly died because of him. All that I’ve done, it’s his fault.”
The Guardian arches a brow. “You sure, miss? You could be lying for all I knew.”
“I’m not lying, Detective Shell. You saw how I argued with him. Would I have done that if I were his accomplice?”
“Call him a ‘despicable, run-down, piece of scum?’ I’ve seen other criminals call each other worse.”
“I’m not a criminal!”
“There isn’t any proof to suggest otherwise.”
“No- There is!” She took a deep breath. Look at her, trying to sell out Wendell. The Coatl continued to spew out a variety of excuses. Clearly, the detective wasn’t buying it.
What did he want with his pet? Wendell had ran from him. He ran, because he was afraid and revolted and desperate. He ran, and he’d left those scars on his face. The skin of his snout prickled.
Little Bird wanted to make it to the Labyrinth. He knew exactly where he’d go.
If that’s what you want, then I will give it to you.
“Alright, that’s enough,” The Guardian handed his weapon back to one of the guards, from whom he’d taken the gun. He waved at both of them. “Both of you, take the Wildclaw to the Vault cells. He’s clearly unstable. We’ll need to keep him somewhere more secure.”
They were going to cage up his sparrow. Oh no, he wouldn’t let them.
As the detective swung open the door, he curled his claws, drawing on that bleakness, that hollow feeling.
A long black strand slithered from his talons, catching all the light that came its way, swallowing the glow until nothing remained. It looked at him, as if inquiring. This was his to control. It’d once bent him. Not anymore.
He turned back to the Guardian.
“...As for you, you will be staying here.”
“No! Let me out- I- My mother will hear of this! She’s a wealthy merchant! And she has connections!” The Coatl kept begging, leaping for his silver scales, but he nudged her away with a chuckle. All the while, the guards were picking up his Little Bird. His head lolled limp and weak.
“Sorry, I don’t discriminate between the rich and poor,” He laughed. “You’ll be staying here until an envoy from the Icefield arrives to take you back. I’ve heard their prisons are lovely this time of year-”
And the strand lept.
It snaked with haste across the floor and up the leg of one guard, over her body, and around her neck, to which it then constricted, snapping her neck with a CRACK. Then it shot towards the other and broke his bones too. Dead within seconds.
Finally, the line danced down and over the ground, slithering up the cell’s bars until it was in line with the Guardian’s forehead.
And it struck.
SO
SO SHELL DIED
PINKERTON WHY THE FRESH HECK I knew I shouldn't have trained in the Woodland path >:////// God I had so much planned for him too, and now he's d e a d
I'm not willing to part with him, but alas, the rules say otherwise... So say goodbye to Detective Shell, Private Eye everyone
@RosaDiaz @Charias @Midwinter @Ellapinky @Orodruin @VeniVidiVici @DootTheBang @amble @FallenEclipse @Razatharia @Umaroth @RadioReprise @namrathel @Petall @TundraKitsune @catmeow1
|
Loki - They/Them - FR Time 0+ Lore thread (WIP) Dressing Service Call of the Deep Lineage Project |
