|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Thu Jul 22, 2010 7:18 pm
As unnecessary as her question was, so it seemed was her self sacrifice as Basil violently pried from her and dragged himself out of the fire, er water. Thus was Cordelia left in the midst of the chilled pool, shivering pathetically like the drowned cat she looked. With the cold setting into her half formed body quickly, she couldn't find the strength to pull herself out as well and merely continued to "sit" there as the water slowly dripped off her slicked, matted hair.
Delia suddenly felt very tired, her eyes too heavy, began to flutter open and closed as her body slowly drifted lower in the water which was only helping to speed the process up. What...what was happening? This feeling was familiar, Cordelia instinctively knowing she'd experience it or at least something like it a few times before. Dark lips mouthed the cobra's name, yet were unable to produce any kind of sound except the gentle breathe it took to mouth his name.
Who knew how long the basilisk could have survived chest deep in the water if Basil hadn't had the sense of mind to finally come back for her. Though it was good to be out of the water, Cordelia shivered more at the sudden biting of the cool air on her soaked body, goosebumps rapidly appearing on her olive skin.
The girl Frei moaned at being poked, yet at the last second snatched at the hand. Hoping for warmth she greedily pressed it firm against her cheek, but quickly pushed it away with a low, disgusted hiss at its own iciness. "...too...cold...don't want..."
Suddenly a bright light flashed at them from behind Basil, "Hey Kid! What are you up to? Are you the one responsible for the fountain?" The Durem police officer inched his way slowly towards the hooded youth, weary of that shadowed figure and unaware of Cordelia lying there concealed as she was in all that black.
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 1:21 pm
As the day drew to a close and the skies began to bruise into a violet night, Basil found his energy to be severely lacking. He had had an exciting day, even by his standards—no doubt such excitement that would lead him to savor the quieter, peaceful moments in his future wherein he could sit and observe without interruption. Observe and deduct until his feeble mind could trail to other things when his attention to plausible detail atrophied, fueled by mists of color and fantastical concepts that could never come to exist outside the comfortable regions of his mind. And even some of the less comfortable ones. Cordelia had first grabbed ahold of his hand, only to promptly release it as if it were something painful and offensive to the senses. This momentarily confused him, but was by no means insulting as some would have interpreted it. Shrugging it off, he thought only to swat the edge of his cheek and mumble a few notes of nonsense to wish her a good sleep. Hopefully she might have a plan for them in the morrow... If memory served, Cordelia was good at making plans. Not a stickler for luxury, Basil would be content to heave himself upon the adjacent bench and roll to his side. Or more, drop his weight upon it like the flump of an ageing dog on a braided rug. As much as sleep was beginning to terrify him... It felt too much like his blackouts for comfort. Perpetually doomed to doubt when he would next wake up in his own skin again, and where...
However, before he could take his next pace, a light drew upon them, as did an unfamiliar voice. It sounded authoritative and direct. Normally this would have provided Basil with a sense of security. Incite him to approach the uniformed man with questions of his own; hopefully those that would lead him home sooner than anticipated and provide a warm place for the shivering Cordelia to rest. All this and more, if not for the unquestionable detection of an uncertainty in the voice; one that did not promise friendliness. This man's tone gave him chills... Basil did not like chills. With another unsightly swipe of his mouth and nose against the top of his forearm, the waterlogged beast turned to face his oppressor in spite of his runny nose and reddened eyes. While the so-far anonymous and intimidating voice had not assaulted him, the flashlight he carried certainly proved itself amply capable of doing so in his stead. And it performed with ferocious strength, indeed. When Basil began to rotate in air, he had originally sought to warn the man with an idle hiss. His and Cordelia’s business was not his to meddle in, and he would have no difficulty telling him so, provided in his own “words”. His head tilted upwards so as to free his vision from the shadow of his hood, and the officer caught his first glimpse of the fountain-side vagabond. The light reflected from Basil’s eyes, reducing them to ghostly yellow discs. In the marshy regions of Gaia, the act of shining a lantern into the blackened swamps and dusky campgrounds to search for the yellow, reptilian beacons of an alligator was quite common…
The light probed deeper. It stung his inner recesses; it jolted a shock through the boy’s brain as cataclysmic as the volcanic eruption over Pompeii. It blew a door from it’s hinges allowing God only knows what to creep through… The light itself was like a force that sent Basil hurtling backwards within himself as if struck with a blunt weapon... or carried away by a large, benevolent hand. He began to feel cold and tingly all over… Down to his bones. Not only to the surface of his skin, still draped in wet clothes. He took a sweet gasp of air, as the edges of his vision shuddered and blurred. The last thing he would see before vanishing into the bulb of the officer’s flashlight, was the smoothly hewn face of a stone mermaid in the fountain, her head sympathetically tilted to him as if in understanding. She could not help him, and neither could his Cordelia.
The officer’s hands began to shake with a bite of cold (or so he hoped), holding his light as steady as he could manage. He repeated the question, this time louder, with more authority. In his experience, this was usually enough to make any homeless person start to run or at least create excuses… And when the boy did neither, his head now hanging limp, his finger began to twitch for the trigger of the 9mm semi-automatic on his hip. The being he was faced with was unlike anything he had ever encountered in his time… It was a complete judgment call on how well it would respond to his demands, or if it would yield to him without a fight.
He took a step forward, the crunch of his oxfords breaking the silence between them that had only previously been interrupted by the fountain’s relentless gurgle and the sound of someone closing their car door one block over. At the crunch, the boy’s body language began to shift. In specificity, the carriage of his elbows and chest. His arm slowly rose from his side, putting his hand up to the officer, palm out, in a traditional “stop” gesture. Perhaps to convey that there was no need for concern. He did not lift his head. Who could say why the officer had decided to heed him, if not out of curiosity? After an acceptable grace period, the palm-out soon rotated, and the fingers crept inward with equal speed. He knew all too well that the man before him was just itching for him to make too sudden a gesture. The creature snapped his fingers once in a loud, resonant click. In what was either extreme coincidence or the boy’s alien beckoning, the officer’s car radio fizzled to life approximately four meters away, parked snugly in the way of a rusting fire hydrant of all things. “Breaking up is hard to do…” Catchy, and a little appropriate. If he had had a foot to spare, he would have been tapping it.
The officer was now severely startled, his hand reaching emphatically for the hip that held his holster, so as to touch his thumb to the grip of his pistol and his fingers to his handcuffs to have both in comfortable distance. He continued holding his flashlight in his free hand, shouting a warning for the man to place his hands above his head… Unexpectedly enough, the cobra complied, carefully raising his other arm to meet his hands at the top of his hood. His head remained lowered. The officer had not anticipated his cooperation, apprehensively approaching him with the steel, lever-lock handcuffs… One foot in front of the other to close the gap… Closer, closer still. Until he could easily hear the calm, controlled breathing of his vandal, even over the music emptying out into the open streets. He instructed the man to turn around, and place his hands behind his back. He was met with silence. A blade-like wing (concealed comfortably beside it’s twin at the Frei’s back) lashed out and upward, reflecting the shine of the officer’s flashlight into his unguarded eyes. With precision and elegance, the predator then followed through by thrusting the point of his elbow into the other’s throat, preying upon a single moment of vulnerability to strike, and dismantle him. The flashlight fell to the ground, the light flickering momentarily on impact as the bulk of it rolled out into the street. This was fine. He did not need his eyes to teach this man a lesson in nosiness. Only a soundtrack…
While the man sputtered for breath upon the ground (going as far as to vomit), the being had the presence of mind to remove his gun from him to circumvent any unfriendly mishaps. He wrinkled his nose at the smell of his sick. The first sign of expression to appear on his face yet. When the officer -fearful of his life- tightly grabbed the boy’s forearm to resist, it was swiftly removed with a painful bite to his thick, leathery wrist. Whether or not the Frei had broken it was debatable, but the officer did let out an impressive shout. The gun following the flashlight, the cobra began to drag the officer by his neck towards his police car, the sounds of his screams muffled by a vice-like grip on his purple skin. The cobra had always been peculiarly strong. After all, what was a cobra, but a tube of sheer muscle guiding itself along the forest floor? Thankfully it was little trouble lowering himself to the ground in the absence of legs to ease the strain on his arm as heave by heave, he reached the sleek white machine where the music came loudest. The man thrashed and bucked weakly in his hold when he had grabbed a fistful of hair to position the officer’s head above the hood of his car. There was some pleading and bargaining to be heard… Apparently the monster with Basil’s face did not appreciate the sentiment, silencing him with a single slam. The officer was still very much conscious but had had enough sense to feel he did not want to do anything to warrant another, nearly numb from the shoulders up. His head felt light as air. His brain screamed for oxygen. Afterwards was what appeared to be a moment of hesitation, the boy’s face contorting and twitching in a spasm, like scrambled images on a scratched DVD. So too did the projected song waver and skip with his convulsions. His calm, deliberate demeanor crumbled into a ferocious outburst of rage, slamming the officer’s head repeatedly into the hood, again and again like an egg on the rim of a frying pan.
“WHAMH! WHAMH! WHAMH! WHAMH!" Only until the man’s face was but a pulp of what it once resembled. With a broken nose and some teeth knocked loose, the injuries he would sustain seemed much worse than they actually were, given the time and opportunity the raevan was given. There were no intentions of murder, here… If there had been, it would have been so. When the officer would regain consciousness sometime tomorrow afternoon in a drug-addled haze after relentless hours of reconstructive surgery at First Durem Med, laboring over the night’s events from his cot, it was likely that he too would know this to be fact. The creature only acted on impulse. He had not removed Basil from the comfort of his home only to have him misunderstood by an amateur authority with a blank schedule and an itchy trigger finger. It simply could not be…
Following his loud, metallic outburst, the Frei was now still, and allowed the man to slide heavily onto the concrete below in a smear of hot blood. The hooded figure seemingly examined the wounded animal below him with an almost child-like wonder, his head tilting askew. “Hmm…” He murmured on a breath of venom. If there was ever a time to leave, it was now. He glanced to the gazebo… Would it be prudent to take the female with him? She was weak. She would slow him down… The corner of his terrible mouth began to curl. He would give her the opportunity to become useful. With no further hesitation, he approached the “little house” with the intent of collecting her, and finding them someplace warmer for the night. Regain their strength. Somewhere more resourceful. Keep an eye out...
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerous Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Jul 27, 2010 8:38 pm
A bright light entered the girl's vision briefly, casting them to a more reptilian nature and thus significantly narrowing her field of vision. In her already weakened state, to be blinded too was a bit much for the basilisk and she gave a low moan once more before rolling away from the unwelcome glare. And though her ears had picked up the sounds of voices, scuffling and...was that music? Cordelia barely registered any of this as her wet hands clung tight to her shoulders to try and retain heat that she was most obviously not generating. As the moments wore on the Frei's teeth began to chatter with the drops in degree, effectively drowning out the elaborate massacre just a few feet behind her.
"Basil..." her wispy voice called. Instinct was telling her she needed to leave this place and now. As if to play up the dramatics, her dark rune flickered violently before stabilizing itself again. Yes, Cordelia was resilient, but who knew how long she could keep it up. She was young and untested still, how long would her endurance hold?
"Ba-Baz..." Cordelia uttered again, only able to get as far as that fond nickname, the fear in her voice most evident because for once, she had to relay on the cobra rather than their usual other way around. Her hand shaking terribly from the cold tremors, reached out for his not caring this time if it was cold or not, she needed it. She needed him.
"Pleasssse...make it st-st-stop..." Her tongue felt heavy in her mouth now, becoming too difficult to curl into the English she wanted and starting to falter into her primary language.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Jul 29, 2010 10:29 pm
There was not a sign of apprehension to be found in the beast as he drew ever closer to the female murmuring the name of his alter. He bent above her to feel her forehead with the back of his hand and prod her wet clothes with his pointer finger to judge how much she had dried. He was disappointed to find that it was not very much... She could not move on her own. And for what? To salvage a simple-minded blunder of science that could not fend for her, let alone himself? Her judgement was poor, and the beast was not gentle with her to that effect. He would move her as if he were moving furniture, gripping her where he liked, and how he liked, anticipating her unrelenting submission. He knew what was good for her, and surely she was bright enough to grasp that she was in no position to object to him in knowing it would be her downfall. He carried her much in the same way Basil had; like a child. Not a word left his lips as he scooped her up from the bench and began to glide swiftly and silently into the nearest alley. Past the police car, past the hot smear of blood, past the music, and past the officer who remained flat upon the pavement beside his vehicle. Help would be coming for him soon...
The final glint from the razor's edge of his gruesome wing was the equivalent of the serpent's tail disappearing into the brush, ne'er to be seen again. Much like the tail of a second serpent that had only moments ago, disappeared into the gullet of his King. He was a hungry marauder, appetite satiated. From the blackness did come one sound however. An echoing snap. At it's whim, the music faded with him, dying in the open air. The radio had not been turned on at all, proven merely to be a vessel...
On top of Basil's mindless meandering and the female's guidance, the two of them had brought him quite a bit out of the way... This part of the city was unfamiliar to him, so he would have make do. It was enough of an injustice to make him spit that Basil had the benefit of heat sensitivity. One blink of his eye and it would be no trouble to locate a warm, acceptable resting place. He had only chosen the gazebo out of convenience and perhaps fatigue... He was weak-willed. But then, this new face had seen to that. His ignorance would have led the girl to perish in the cold night... And if the temperature got low enough, Basil would have gone down with her. It was only luck that the officer had stumbled upon them and lent him the opportunity to correct Basil's mistakes. Getting by on his wits was his only recourse, now... He calculated a checklist. Getting as far away from the fallen officer as he could manage was a top priority, but warmth certainly superseded it. While he had the endurance and energy to spare to travel the rest of the night if need be, Cordelia clearly did not, and heat would be vital in remedying that. For the both of them. Perhaps she was capable of heat sensitivity, being a fellow serpent... He was tempted to wake her and find out, until a noise deferred him. It's origin was unknown, but it was enough to start him back on his travels.
He was aware his body offered no warmth. Only cold skin and colder clothes... As such, he could not afford to travel much farther than the inner-city without taking some serious risks. The streets had long-since begun to empty and businesses were closing their doors to make way for a not-so-peaceful night... However, in spite of it all, less than an hour of searching yielded his solution. An imposing Durem Mega-Mall-- and it's tiered underground parking. Being one of many of Man's faultier constructions, approximately two months before, a section of one of the levels had collapsed, crushing six cars, and causing one injury. Until the permits were sent out to begin reconstruction, the entire level was essentially barred off for liability reasons. None of this had been apparent to the cobra, who not until slinking through the decorative foliage and beneath the toll-booth, discovered a veritable cornucopia of warmth and lingering car exhaust. Muggy and dimly lit, this would certainly make for a tremendous temporary safe-zone. Police tape was certainly no deterrent to the heedless snake and his compatriot, who happily pushed through into the crumbling region in order to conceal their whereabouts and provide a bit of privacy.
Chunks of concrete and crumbs left by hoodlums littered the floor from wall to wall. It stunk heavily of gasoline and night air, and somewhere, water was dripping. The space permeated with warm, inviting semi-darkness depending on how many of the lightbulbs above remained burning in their broken fixtures, and how many others were reduced to frayed wires. The cobra preferred the full blackness as he attempted to navigate deeper into the wreckage. Naturally he would hit his elbows from time to time on sharper chunks of torn concrete, but had otherwise managed to find a snug, relatively clean space to lay the Basilisk. Setting her down a ways he would not be able to rest himself until he had given the place his own personal touch. Being the only snake of it's kind to build a nest, it was only natural for him to then begin dusting the area, pushing away stones and making it a little more... homey.
He murmured coldly to himself as he worked. The voice was too quiet and too low to discern it's more striking qualities. When whispering, many people sounded very much the same. He then began to drag her form to the space he had cleared, prior to laying at her side. He wasted no time in nestling his head against her softness, as it was much more pleasant for him than the dusty floors. Unlike Basil, the stranger had no fear of sleep. None at all.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerous Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Jul 30, 2010 7:47 pm
She gave an audible sigh when the cobra's icy hand pressed firm against her equally chilled forehead. For a moment there Cordelia had been worried that Basil had forgotten about her and simply wandered off like he seemed to be prone to do. Thus she was very relieved to feel that hand even if it was not giving off the warmth she so desired and desperately needed now.
Normally Delia would have giggled at being prodded by the younger snake, but right now was not the most ideal of times and it only served to bring a light hiss to her lips in warning. Yet when Basil roughly dragged her up and into his arms to carry her off to gods only knew, the basilisk objected as much as she could to his harsh handling. The effort was of course in vain, but Cordelia persisted, her hissing and swatting becoming weaker with each try. It wasn't so much her trying to get away from him as her trying to show him it wasn't proper to drag her around like a rag doll. She was Cordelia Shade after all! No one was to treat her this way, no one!
Her final strike, if it could even be called that, ended up with the smoky girl's hand pressed light against his cheek before slowly sliding down into her non-existent lap. All too soon Cordelia had fallen asleep, her body forcing her to reserve whatever strength she had left to survival. In conjunction, her rune grew a bit brighter, working overtime to support its quickly failing host.
The basilisk was not gifted with the ability to see heat, but she was able to sense it, the delicious feeling quickly absorbing into every pore of her body the minute she was in contact with it. Slowly her eyes opened and Cordelia watched with hazed vision as Basil ambled about and muttered quietly to himself. Much too tired to object when he, yet again, roughly displaced her to a new location, Delia was surprised when he nestled gently along with her. Her heart suddenly pounded with a terrible ache she didn't understand. Like something had been torn from it and left to bleed its tears of sorrow within her half-formed chest.
Carefully she wrapped her arms around the hooded boy and snuggled closer to help retain the heat they were absorbing from the surrounding area. Cordelia held him like that for sometime, the ache in her heart seeming to ease with this simple action. Finally she hissed soft in that velvet smoke voice of hers, "Did you remember?" She would probably have to repeat in English, but that's the price one pays when they had no one else (of real value anyway) to speak their native language with.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 3:52 am
From beneath his hood, the shell of the stranger's ear burned with acknowledgement. His dark lashes lifted, allowing only a peep of proper vision. Not as if there was much to glimpse in the darkness he had chosen. He filled his lungs with the soiled air, soothed by their seclusion, but not however by her inexplicable grasp upon him as they lay together in his makeshift nest. It wasn't as if they were going to get any warmer that way... How stupid could she be? They were both cold-blooded. While certainly he was not cultured enough to realize that that was why their bodies provided no heat, he was still aware of the circumstances. In the blackness he heaved a lingering sigh of what seemed to be either condescension or exasperation, though given the situation it could have easily been misinterpreted for fondness. Her motives were impractical. Typical emotional outlander. If he weren't so exhausted himself, he would roll to his other side, baring his Kingly stripes to her, emblazoned in his clothing to represent those of one of the world's greatest predators. Perhaps then she'd sport a little reverence. A little dignity.
Mentally scoffing her as he drifted in and out of his rest, a noise pierced the darkness like an assassin's knife. It was slow and wispy. Smokey like it's owner. It was a dark, unmentionable tongue most organic. He was by no means unfamiliar with it. While he spoke English well enough, his inner voice spoke this tongue. It made better sense to him. His head could be filled with hisses and warmth to suffocate Basil's stupidity underneath the breadth of his greatness. And she spoke this privileged tongue, and she spoke it well. Perhaps there was some hope for her... He had never heard it before in a female voice. He enjoyed it...
If she was to be interpreted correctly, she had asked him a question. But the question made no sense. Not to him at least... Had Basil made her some sort of promise? He should have known better than that. He immediately became embittered again, his reply guttural and unaccommodating. "No. I do not. What is to remember? I can not sleep when you talk. Stop it." Perhaps what he appreciated most about parseltongue was it's prevailing lack of contractions. Contractions were a sign of laziness.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerous Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Jul 31, 2010 3:58 pm
Oh if she could hear but a smidgen of what the cobra was thinking of her now, Cordelia would not be so kind as to embrace him so intimately as she was then. Though she was not completely aware of her birth right, the basilisk would still have been expecting some sort of mutual respect (if not worship) from the other serpentine Raevan. If she had known about her past, Cordelia would have most likely demanded it. As that was not the case, the dark Frei simply cuddled the other in a comforting manner, not aware that it was a completely different outlook on the boy's side.
Delia stiffened slight and froze when another set of lips punctured the air with hissing words. Not sounds of warning or anger, actual words! She released Basil just enough to look at him with a curiously delighted look. So he did know her language! She knew it! Finally, someone else to talk with, other than the belly sliding snakes, in the tongue she was most comfortable with.
As excited as she was now to speak with Basil, it seemed the youth had other ideas. Thus the girl remained quiet for the most part, allowing only a tiny wisp of amused laughter to pass her lips as she yet again hugged her male companion close. Eventually they'd have to leave this place once they were feeling better and it was this very thought of having to part from Basil now that broke her heart again. It almost made her want to run away with the other snake and forget about their guardians and do and go wherever they wanted, but...a tear welled up and slide down her cheek gently then. Cordelia couldn't do something horrible like that to Ebby. So for now she would be content with the time she was allotted with the glass Frei.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Mon Aug 02, 2010 9:27 pm
The stranger could be grateful that his female companion was cooperative, allowing him to return to his silent, wordless slumber. In a way, a hint of curiosity still nagged at him, ever cautious. Wondering as to the meaning behind her question. He should have probed into it... He did not like the thought of there being any sort of secret between himself and his alter. His brows furrowed against her skin. Damn it...
In his sleepy irritation, he nursed a bit of blood from between the crevices of his teeth; that of the officer. It was quite likely that one of his fangs had pierced a vein with the bite upon his wrist in attempts to dislodge him. As he let the taste settle on his pallet for a while, his irritation with Basil became replaced with a stew of regret for not having taken any sort of lasting trophy... A strip of cloth? A swatch of skin? The pen from within the man's breast pocket? But as the small, coppery flavor would drip to the empty, stomachless void within him where his saliva dwelled too, this succored his remorse quite well. His deed was now alive within him. A part of him. The ultimate empowerment, as would be cannibalism. A concept King Cobras were all too welcome towards. For the first time that night, he smiled.
His tired eyes closed, and the warmth rejuvenated him. In his sleep, he nuzzled further against her, seemingly in the urge to bury his face. It did not take him long to become comfortable. Without any further energy to spare, his purpose fulfilled, Basil would be the first to drift to the surface as the violent stranger sank within. While yet unopened as the hours trickled by, Basil's awareness would glow from behind his eyes, returning from yet another of his blackouts. Only this time, as dawn would come to crest above the buildings and the night was swept away across the cosmos, Basil would for once be waking up somewhere he wanted to be as Cordelia had promised. Sharing a cozy, warm place beside a fellow serpent. It wasn't home, but it was close enough.
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerous Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Aug 05, 2010 6:27 pm
With no more words or hisses, sleep soon took not just the cobra, but the female basilisk as well. Since her birth, Cordelia had never shared sleep with another since both her and her guardian possessed rooms and beds of their own. She'd just taken this as the norm, that all people slept separate as they did almost every other closely held private activity that she knew of. But what Delia found when gently dozing with Basil was that it was utterly soothing. It felt good to have her arms wrapped tight around something, someone while she slept. Cordelia felt utterly at ease, cozy and safe.
When Basil finally stirred so did the elder snake. Since they were finally at an acceptable temperature, the female Frei released her embrace on him. After a light whimpering yawn, "I have to go. Ebby will be waking soon. Do you know how to get home?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Nov 25, 2010 3:09 am
None too gradually, the cobra sat up, bolstering his palms against the dusty floor and raising his shaggy head. He was tentative to do so given the warmth and comfort he had experienced all throughout the night, but panic had gripped him in his confusion. The world was still so dark in spite of having already opened his eyes! His breathing raced and his eyes eagerly scanned the room for heat by way of his special sense. When it fell upon the light emanating in the distance from the entrance that had led to their stony nest, he found immediate assuagement, uttering a sigh of relief and relaxing back against the floor. While the exit was only a brief drift away, Basil was not in any hurry to leave... He had succumbed to a blackout, and was no doubt further from home than he had been the first time around. In him, was left a lingering desolation, until a familiar voice came to him through the dark. He had nearly forgotten Cordelia hadn't left his side. How wonderful she was not to have abandoned him for worse. Pawing clumsily through the umber, he tried to place his hand against her head in a gesture of togetherness, nodding, though she could not see it.
While Basil's first impulse was to protest, and bid her to stay, Basil was enjoying a fair moment of unfamiliar clear-headedness while something deep within him slept, unable to interfere. At least... for now. He had retained not even a trace of the unspeakable crimes he had committed the night before, and perhaps, that was for the better. While he wore a grimace, murmuring a gentle whine, Basil was beginning to understand the many, albeit simple reasons that she could not stay... That part of their journey was over, and Cordelia had other places to be. Other Freis to keep company. Basil wondered if there were other Freis in the world that were as dumb and as accident-prone as he was. Genie wouldn't want him to keep Cordelia from them if such was the case... With that in mind, Basil hadn't yet developed the ability to deceive. He couldn't tell her that the details of the route home were still foggy to him, and yet it would feel wrong to keep her by acknowledging such. It was the most complex string of thoughts he had managed in a while, and the clarity felt refreshing. He stared at what he was sure was the ground for quite a while, filling the time with silence, before muttering softly, "Go home, 'Delia. I go home too. Soon. Mmk?" He followed warmly, "Thank you for being nice to me. Yep."
|
|
|
|
|
|
Dangerous Conversationalist
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Reply
