"Not likely. First, I killed a child once, it just doesn't have the same thrill. The only reason I did was because she was the only person in the city with the initials Q.Q. The other reason is there's a no-kill rule in effect, and if I took you off Hogwarts ground, well, I wouldn't be the only one trying to kill you, now would I?"
He has teeth longer than anything his size has a right to. It's a sulkish sort of scream, but a dead-thing's scream, so also prone to raising the hair on the back's of people's necks.
(He's seven, no one said he had to be mature about this sort of thing.)
This is Beyond Birthday we're talking about though. He doesn't scare easily. (Although a certain dog had entered and immediately bolted after hearing the scream)
"I'm just telling the truth, if you left here, everyone out there would kill you. Not my fault you look like a zombie."
Re: Vote: SquibahogarseApril 13 2008, 07:23:30 UTC
"But where else would I go?"
He starts digging in his pockets, and comes up with... the corpse of a dead grasshopper, only it's as ephemereal as the clothes themselves. Still, he holds it out on nearly-invisible fingers.
Re: Vote: SquibahogarseApril 13 2008, 07:33:22 UTC
"If I try can I stay please?"
He doesn't want to go back to the cistern. But he tries before waiting for an answers. It's harder to do, because he's nervous again, and it sinks through his skin and makes a clinking sound against bone.
Re: Vote Change: BitchiwitchahogarseApril 13 2008, 07:37:45 UTC
"Am I doing magic?"
He gasps, and the sound echoes like the room is hollow, bubbles escaping from his nose and mouth. The quill has tumbled the rest of the way through his fingers. It'd be useless to try to pick it up.
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The air is thick with blood around him, streaming from his forehead, and he is positively alight with menace and fury, because it isn't delightful.
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He has teeth longer than anything his size has a right to. It's a sulkish sort of scream, but a dead-thing's scream, so also prone to raising the hair on the back's of people's necks.
(He's seven, no one said he had to be mature about this sort of thing.)
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"I'm just telling the truth, if you left here, everyone out there would kill you. Not my fault you look like a zombie."
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He shall continue to sulk.
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( ... )
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He sounds rather chastized.
"I'd give you my marbles if I could if you didn't."
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He starts digging in his pockets, and comes up with... the corpse of a dead grasshopper, only it's as ephemereal as the clothes themselves. Still, he holds it out on nearly-invisible fingers.
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"Hm. I wonder....Could you pick up that quill again, please?"
He wanted to see if anything he touched turned incorporeal and with little substance.
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He doesn't want to go back to the cistern. But he tries before waiting for an answers. It's harder to do, because he's nervous again, and it sinks through his skin and makes a clinking sound against bone.
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He gasps, and the sound echoes like the room is hollow, bubbles escaping from his nose and mouth. The quill has tumbled the rest of the way through his fingers. It'd be useless to try to pick it up.
Reply
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