voice test

[wroughtandtempered]

[ maybe while out shopping you ran into someone— literally ran into them, knocking one or the both of you over. a good look at them shows it's a girl, obviously homeless if her general hygiene and the layered and filthy clothes she's wearing are any indication.



or maybe you just found a ten foot long serpentine monstrosity rummaging around in your knocked-over garbage cans. (a girl's gotta eat, all right.)



or maybe something else entirely is going on. go nuts, AUS AND RANDOM BULLSHIT WELCOME

note: magic sensors can tell she's got an affinity/alignment with metal, and also feels basically like something/someone hideously deformed in a horrifying way. ]

((copied from original journal for this character for posterity!))

Comments

[ofobedience]

Oh, I'm not all bark. I promise you I've got just as much bite.

[And that settles it, doesn't it? Almost an invitation, and as such he slides his pale white hands into the confines of his jacket with unnatural speed, whips them out again armed with both pistols. Pulls the triggers.]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ he may be enhanced, but there's still something to be said for natural speed, particularly in a creature built for quick strikes and fast reactions. she moves as he does— not for a direct attack, but a quick dodge up the wall of the alley in a neat s-shaped curve. still, at least one of those shots hits if her furious shriek is any indication... but he won't be making another. though the metal of his guns doesn't grow hot, it still sags and deforms as though melting.

he doesn't have much time to react to that, though, seeing as she's gathering herself and leaping off of the wall directly for him. ]

[ofobedience]

[Well, that's disconcerting. Not her speed or agility, no, those are things he could have predicted, but the way the pistols sag and warp in his hands sends an unpleasant twist through him, and there's a fraction of a second where his shoulders seem to sag along with them, mouth a downturned line (those were his) but it passes almost as soon as it arises because she's moving towards him, then, and he has to act, to move with her. And he does.

he dashes forward, towards her, means to use that enhanced speed and strength of his to duck underneath, to rip right through her]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ that might have worked better if he hadn't aimed for her belly; she's as armored there as any snake, but the plate-like scales are proportionally thicker, raised slightly up at the edges and sharp. even a blade would have a hard time piercing them, much less his bare hands. in addition, that puts him well within the reach of her middle sets of legs; she grabs at him with them, trying to pull him close where she can wrap herself around him like a common constrictor and hold him reasonably still for the bite. ]

[ofobedience]

[He can do more with his bare hands than many could with a blade, but it's still startling to come up against something so hard in a place he'd assumed would be softer than the rest of her, sharp enough to cut into him, to make the smoke rise off him in plumes as the wounds knit themselves together rapidfast.

She catches him though, coils around, and though he yanks his hands free from the crush of her coiling body he isn't quite sure what to do with them, yet. Maybe try to snap her fangs off if she goes to bite him, or try to]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ she doesn't, since he's got his hands free, or at least doesn't yet; instead she flicks that forked tongue right in his face, nearly brushing his glasses. she's got her forepaws on his shoulders, claws digging in lightly ]

You have metal in you, don't you? Interesting.

[ofobedience]

[Well, that's incredibly rude. He'd rather you didn't lick him, thank you very much. Or almost lick him. Same difference.

He seems remarkably unconcerned (at least outwardly) over his current predicament, though something guarded crosses his face at the mention of metal in him]

What of it?

[His voice is glacial-calm, even if inwardly something jangles unpleasantly over having been caught (what would mother say?) and the tone he detects in her voice]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ she's smelling him. a dog should recognize the importance of that, really. ]

I'm just wondering what would happen if I told it to flow freely. Can you tell me a reason I shouldn't find out?

[ofobedience]

[Dogs don't smell with their tongues!

But more important are the words, their implications, and behind the orange lenses he glances down at his now discarded guns, little more than useless misshapen lumps of metal. That does things to him, makes something inside him go hard and cold and although his voice retains its calmness the inward panic might be discernible all the same, his own and the bright breathing flash of something else in there with him, something screaming at him to riptearmaim, to go at her with teeth and nails. But that's not advisable, is it? Not in light of the threat. So he tries to push the painting straining thing back inside himself, hold Kerberos in]

I'd prefer it if you didn't? Ha ha.Though more than that, if I don't return to my maker in one piece she'll come looking for you in the end, and I don't think that's something you'd appreciate. Unless you enjoy the idea of being experimented on, of course.

[Just hazarding a guess]

[wroughtandtempered]

[ flicking her tongue out once more to catch the scent of that fear, and then— going very, very still at that veiled threat, pupils slitting ]

... And what guarantee do I have that that wouldn't happen anyway?

[ofobedience]

[That stillness, it's something. Perhaps something he can use]

It's in my best interests that she doesn't find a new pet that she prefers. Let me go, and I'll make no mention of you.

[You don't need to kill him, or keep hold of him. Just crawl back off into the night, yes?]

[wroughtandtempered]

If I kill you, you can't mention me either. Your "maker" wouldn't know what to look for, anyway.

[ofobedience]

You underestimate her. Her reach. It'd only be a matter of time. Besides that, perhaps there's something I could do for you. Rummaging through trash can't be pleasant.

[Though he'd really rather not. Would rather get as far away from you as possible]

[wroughtandtempered]

You underestimate my ability to hide from people who want to put me under microscopes.

[ pausing again, though, keeping up that steady flickering of her tongue as she puts her head to one side ]

...I'll give you that, though. If you can lead me somewhere I can hunt or get enough meat another way, I'll consider us even.

[ofobedience]

[He doubts that, thinks she's simply unaware of what she's dealing with, but he'll remain silent on that front, wants to sooth her into releasing him rather than making things worse. Instead he'll focus on the way out, her point of interest]

And what, pray tell, do you wish to hunt?

[wroughtandtempered]

I like fish, but if it isn't a person, chances are I'll eat it.