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 Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 10:38 pm
Barth was on a horse.
He was too surprised to reposition himself, and ended up hanging on a little more tightly, like a startled cat.
"Where's Cal-" he started, before horses do what they normally do after being slapped in the haunch.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 10:48 pm
Despite all the boils that Calder might have wanted to spank him, Christof was not one of those that made it on the list. In fact, he would never in a million years think that Christof would, and the fact he was smacked in such a commanding way, made him want to punt the Igor if it wasn't for the fact his mind did just as any horse did when slapped hard on the keister. He ran!
A jerk of surprise and then he was off without a second though. Barely making it out the door, Calder bolted. Hooves clacking on carpet and stone as he raced down the hallway. Where was he going? He didn't know! He had only been shown this place once, and that wasn't a very extensive tour. Barth wasn't about to be a rider anytime soon and direct him where to go, but at least the demon didn't have to worry about falling off. When Calder became scared, his skin naturally latched, the fine hairs holding onto whatever was on it's back. Barth was now firmly stuck in place on a racing pony that had no idea where it was going.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 10:56 pm
"HRRRRRRRNNNN!!" Was the only helpful noise as there was a clatter of furniture being thrown in the way before the hunchback came limping down the hall after them, the tiny little wing escaping from his torn coat flapping frantically as though it could help boost his speed.
It didn't.
Frederik leaped from the room directly over the fallen table to spring from the wall adjacent the door and down after him. The elevator door cage had been left open for them, but the monster was quickly closing in-
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 11:02 pm
Barth was in a particularly unhelpful position, and was still unable to discern what, exactly, was going...oh. Right. Kelpies. Horse-like things, weren't they? Wrecked room, Christof defending... yes, that was right, defending them from Frederick (could he do that?) Which meant-
Well, those rooms weren't meant for long-term guests, were they?
The cemeteries, on the other hand.
Barth tried to right himself, and found that he was stuck. This meant firstly that he had no control over where they were going, but more importantly that he didn't have to worry about holding on.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 11:04 pm
Calder skidded to a halt as he nearly passed the elevator, carpet bunching and then tearing as his hooves dug in and tried to hit the breaks before turning direction and heading to the large elevator. Well, ONCE large elevator. Smashing a full horse, even as one as young as he was, in there was not helping space any bit, but at least he managed to get in. (It was times like this that he was lucky he didn't resemble his mother's stockier, more thick-boned form and was more on his father's daintier side of horse features. Still panicking,) he was too frozen in the desire to remain big and with all four hooves to trample and run, to think about shifting back.
Head leaning out, he called out with a loud whinny to the Igor, hooves tapping in place as he debated if he should get out again and try fighting the persistent Frederik again. He couldn't let Christof do this all alone!
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 11:17 pm
Christof floundered, face brimming with sweat as he stumbled into the cramped space, immediately wrenching the caged gate shut. Before he could reach around Calder's bulk for the lever that would send them down, Frederik lunged, landing with a clatter to try to reach past for anything he could snatch. One of his many hands caught Kelpie mane, immediately trying to wrench it up. Christof's hands were convulsing, spasming uselessly as he gaped. His brain was full of pain and heat and electrical impulses that this was WRONG WRONG WRONG WRONG HE WAS BEING BAD HE WAS BEING BAD HE SHOULDN'T- but.... but...
If school had taught him anything, it was that Pain was nothing but an illusion. He had been torn limb from limb more times than he could remember. He had been Fear Starved and burned alive in the snowy fields of Christmas. He had been carved down bit by bit by a cloaked torturer on that Island, only to continue forth- He had seen students eaten and battled his way all the way to pass his exams successfully...he had seen and done so many things that he couldn't have even begun to imagine when he had been confined to this castle.
Pain always passed. Even the pain of roaring, rampaging demonic marks. Nothing was irreversible. People changed.
He pulled the lever and the elevator began to descend.
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Posted: Fri Jul 29, 2011 11:28 pm
Calder cried out when the creature slammed against the cage and tried to step back over and over only to have his butt press against the side and tell him over and over that he was in a little box with no room. When Frederik got his mane, he worried, only because the creature was getting awfully close to his scarf, and he didn't want that torn in any way. There was worse then hair pulling that Frederik could do, but Calder still didn't like having his hair ripped.
It was with luck that Christof managed to get the elevator moving, and they headed down, Calder's hair finally slipping like water through the creatures grasp but not without a good chunk of white hairs as a prize.
When the rickety cage moved, Calder pressed his massive head against the Igor's side, nuzzling his side and under his arm, seeking comfort and wanting to give it in turn, happy that Christof was with them. He didn't want to see his friend left up there alone.
He didn't like this place anymore.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 12:26 am
There was little time to console eachother or even try to wonder what had just transpired when the cage shuddered and rocked in the shaft as the creature leaped down to land on top, snarling afresh as it's five remaining arms clamped onto the bars, wrenching with all of it's weight to try to tear its way inside.
Christof's heart was racing, his brain spinning and burning and it was hard to think, hard to see, his skull feeling as though it were about to split in two at the mouth even as his hand went to his pocket for his pocket knife.
It was a very old elevator. It was a very simple elevator. There weren't even metal wires holding it, just an old dusty rope that quivered and groaned under the weight of two heavy figures, a bit of Barth and an entire horse. His two free hands quickly, jerkingly signed, "Get-small" to the Kelpie and Frederik had barely scratched his third hand as it reached through the bars to bring the blade to the cable before they were free falling.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 7:23 am
Calder jerked his head low, ears flat, at the creature jumped on the elevator, and once again, Calder felt that elevators were the worst invention in the world. He already fell in his first one on the Island, and now a mad lizard Igor robot was trying to tear into their little sardine can to gnaw on him.
What he liked even less than the Igor staring him down and clawing atop the elevator was the one inside and the knife in it's hand, looking up. Not because Calder feared for Frederik's safety. FAR from that. It was the look the Igor was giving to a very thick rope.
He wouldn't!
He was signed to get small, and Calder all but whined. He would. Doing as ordered, Calder shifted once more, dropping his cargo and now all on hands and knees as he covered his head and looked up. Without any time to hesitate, Christof cut the chord and sent them flying down.
Calder hated elevators.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 12:54 pm
Barth dropped into the floor and on top of Calder just in time for the elevator to drop out from under both of them.
Barth was all for elevators. The now-familiar free-falling sensation he could do without. It was still better than stairs.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 1:49 pm
Frederik, who had a bit more of a sense of self preservation than the younger Igor, it would seem, gave a frustrated snarl, leaping up off of the cage to dig far-too-many claws into the stone shaft.
Weightless, Christof closed his eyes, grabbing Calder to wrench him upward- Demons, even Sloth demons, were durable, or at least miraculously good at surviving. Undead never really had to worry about dying. Kelpies on the other hand... had those spindly little legs. He hoped he at least would help cushion Calder's fall. It was better than the alternative.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 2:24 pm
Barth was short on durable, but better at the surviving thing. Although he didn't have the time to properly analyze his position, lying sprawled against the floor did happen to be the ideal position for surviving lift crashes. He did have time to regret that being chased by a single gruff (and, Barth thought, handle-able if he had not been stuck on the back of a panicking Calder) lackey had turned into a major machinery crash.
His position on the elevator floor did not account for ribs and an already damaged abdomen. There was, at first, a sharp crack of information, then a certain warmth and prickling pain as he felt his blood rush to his middle, the carefully Fear-healed wounds where Jingleberry had run him through splitting open again.
Barth felt, overwhelmingly, he should just stay on the elevator floor a little longer.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 7:00 pm
Calder was not a creature that, if harmed, could be sewn back together easily. He, like Barth, was a living creature and could break limbs and rupture organs and not likely find a easy spare hanging around to replace it. It was the downside of not being an undead, but that in no way meant that Calder felt it was an excuse for Christof to demonstrate what a good air bag he was just as he had done before when the pair had fallen out of the demon dorm window the previous year.
The impact was rough, even if he had landed on Christof, and Calder regretted that he weighed so much. Groggy and still in pain from being thrown and also bitten, Calder opened his eyes and whined, before reaching out to grip a meaty arm. Christof. "Hey buddy..?" He shook the hand to see if his friend was alright, only to feel it give little resistance. It was then that he noticed it wasn't attached. Looking about as he laid sprawled on the ground, he sat he was resting against the Igor who, at this point, was not various broken bits.
Oh no!
Groaning, Calder sat up, looking at the arm in his hand and then looking about. "Barth. Christof is broken. Barth..." He looked over to the demon who was laying down on the floor. As he leaned over to shake the other boil, he hissed and held his side. Crocodile bites were not fun at all. Still, Calder reached over and shook his more whole friend. "Barth, you okay?" He whispered, wary that Frederik would fall down on the cage and try and harm them.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 7:51 pm
"N-no," Barth ground out, hissing at the small shift in weight. The pain of his stomach being rattled over new surfaces was intense, worse than the impact. "Don't."
He clutched his middle in an attempt to tighten, stabilize it...his vest was already damp with blood.
"Help me up," he said.
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Posted: Sat Jul 30, 2011 7:58 pm
Calder pulled his hand away when he was told not to shake the boil anymore, and it was the slight turn, the groan in his voice, that made him feel something was wrong. Not Barth too. Not both of them. He wasn't fit enough to drag them all out. He needed a basket to gather Christof and he didn't know if he could lift them both on his back and shift again. His body was aching from being thrown and falling, something that not even a Igor could entirelly cushion, and the bit made moving agonizing.
It was in the smell of freshly exposed, undead parts and his own blood that he noticed a third element. Looking, he smelled and saw the blood from the demon. Not good. Not good at all.
Shuffling over, Calder gently moved his arms under the demon's arm, and moved to get up, glad that his legs were at least sturdy, and rose them both up. "We gotta get out of here. I need....I need a basket for Chrsitof. Uh...Uh..." He couldn't carry them both out of here. "Christof, I'll come back for you. I just need to get Barth out. I'll find a basket." They would get out of here. Away from crazy lizard Igors.
He tried to move, taking slow steps. He never had felt so unsteady on his feet before in as long as he could remember. The room felt too warm, or maybe he felt too cold. "Are you going to make it, Barth? I don't think I can let you ride my back again with how you are." The movement alone could kill the boil.
Why was this happening to them? Why?!
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