Luke meant to go to the Carnival, but duty called. He'll go sometime this week or next. It's not important. Luke's walking through the park when he hears the commotion. His gaze is drawn to the kids, who are- His blood runs cold, freezing in fact in his veins as a heavy weight sits over his heart and sinks into his stomach.
There's a surge of fiery emotion in his chest that he doesn't recognize. He sprints over.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Luke reaches out trying to grab hold of the kitten if he can. He'll wrestle the kids if necessary! Hopefully, it won't be necessary he's not exactly strong, but he is an adult. They should listen to him.
He's so filled with this foreign emotion of anger that he hasn't even noticed the giant Cat Beast grumbling behind them. Luke has only ever encountered monsters with Des. Des is not with him. Luke does not expect monsters.
The Beast jerks to a halt for a moment when Luke appears. New element. Recalculation. It's fighting the young predators for their prey.
The Beast snarls and surges out of the brush in a tidal mass, ripping toward its targets without making further sound--though really, it doesn't need to. The shock waves its paws send through the ground should be enough to warn of its jolting rush toward them.
One of the boys, the one holding Luke off, screams and drops the cat.
It hits the water with a yowl and scrabbles at the edge, almost immediately swept out of reach.
The Beast hesitates. It launches itself over the teenager's heads and hits the water with a concussive blast of wetness that almost knocks the little cat out, and then Ragnar is nosing it to the edge of the water where it can scramble up the bank and bolt away.
Rags hauls himself, completely dry, from the river and turns to stare at his targets. He shudders, snarls, and lowers his head.
Luke has... no idea how to react to anything that's happening. It's lucky that it's happening so fast, or he could have the time to have a heart attack, which is exactly what his heart feels like it's doing.
There is no Des here. Why is there a giant beast in the water that looks like it wants to kill him? There is no Des here. What's he supposed to do on his own? He doesn't do these things on his own! He doesn't have short term adventures with large creatures that could crush him. Even in the future green Rift there was someone by his side and there weren't monsters there not like this- this
( ... )
The kids are running. The Beast reacts, plowing across the distance between them in a breath, its gaze fixed on the frozen one. The weak link. It roars. Its jaws snapped closed--on empty space.
The Beast halts, rumbling in irritation and confusion. It looks down. A squirming pile of cloth that smells like its meal. It sniffs at the clothes and sneezes, blinking at the kitten tangled in the clothes.
Something in the part of him that still registers such things clicks--this kitten is familiar.
Ragnar sits down, staring at the tiny creature. And then he licks its head. Considering the fact that his tongue is bigger than Luke's whole body, that should be an adventure.
One For Sorrow has been flying erratic patterns over the city, looking for the King of Cats. He's seen a lot of people, recognized all of them - which is a bit of a headful, honestly - but he hasn't come across Ragnar or anything like him.
Until now.
He banks, catching the bough of a tree and opening his beak before he notices the boys with the kitten, and a few glances back and forth fills in the story to that particular feathered brain.
"Lovely time to explain, your majesty," he calls down, shifting from foot to foot. He's not low in the tree, but he's seen how high cats can jump when they're not the size of bears. "If there's another war on, someone might have thought to tell me."
The great block of the Beast's head whips around. It regards the magpie with a contemplative air.
Too small, it decides.
...Though somehow familiar.
The Beast shakes off the feeling and returns to his contemplation of the boys and the cat, which they're lowering toward the water again. The Beast snarls, roars, and charges.
One For Sorrow, while sometimes not the smartest of all Corvidae, is still not an idiot, and when Ragnar charges, he decides that not only does he not want to try to get in his way, he wants to be as far away from the impending carnage as he can be while still keeping an eye on this all. He explodes upward in a thunder of wings, finding a much higher branch in a tree that isn't so close to the line of attack.
Then he turns, watching the scene beneath him unfold.
One thing's certain: for all that Ragnar seemed perfectly himself in the Park when this magpie came through, he's certainly not himself now. Granted, he didn't have so very much time to get to know the cat, but at least he knows the Majicou, and at least the Majicou would not entrust all to a bruiser doing his best to appear rabid.
...maybe once he's had something to eat, he'll calm down a little.
Comments 14
There's a surge of fiery emotion in his chest that he doesn't recognize. He sprints over.
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Luke reaches out trying to grab hold of the kitten if he can. He'll wrestle the kids if necessary! Hopefully, it won't be necessary he's not exactly strong, but he is an adult. They should listen to him.
He's so filled with this foreign emotion of anger that he hasn't even noticed the giant Cat Beast grumbling behind them. Luke has only ever encountered monsters with Des. Des is not with him. Luke does not expect monsters.
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The Beast snarls and surges out of the brush in a tidal mass, ripping toward its targets without making further sound--though really, it doesn't need to. The shock waves its paws send through the ground should be enough to warn of its jolting rush toward them.
One of the boys, the one holding Luke off, screams and drops the cat.
It hits the water with a yowl and scrabbles at the edge, almost immediately swept out of reach.
The Beast hesitates. It launches itself over the teenager's heads and hits the water with a concussive blast of wetness that almost knocks the little cat out, and then Ragnar is nosing it to the edge of the water where it can scramble up the bank and bolt away.
Rags hauls himself, completely dry, from the river and turns to stare at his targets. He shudders, snarls, and lowers his head.
Right. He was hunting.
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There is no Des here. Why is there a giant beast in the water that looks like it wants to kill him? There is no Des here. What's he supposed to do on his own? He doesn't do these things on his own! He doesn't have short term adventures with large creatures that could crush him. Even in the future green Rift there was someone by his side and there weren't monsters there not like this- this ( ... )
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The Beast halts, rumbling in irritation and confusion. It looks down. A squirming pile of cloth that smells like its meal. It sniffs at the clothes and sneezes, blinking at the kitten tangled in the clothes.
Something in the part of him that still registers such things clicks--this kitten is familiar.
Ragnar sits down, staring at the tiny creature. And then he licks its head. Considering the fact that his tongue is bigger than Luke's whole body, that should be an adventure.
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Until now.
He banks, catching the bough of a tree and opening his beak before he notices the boys with the kitten, and a few glances back and forth fills in the story to that particular feathered brain.
"Lovely time to explain, your majesty," he calls down, shifting from foot to foot. He's not low in the tree, but he's seen how high cats can jump when they're not the size of bears. "If there's another war on, someone might have thought to tell me."
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Too small, it decides.
...Though somehow familiar.
The Beast shakes off the feeling and returns to his contemplation of the boys and the cat, which they're lowering toward the water again. The Beast snarls, roars, and charges.
Reply
One For Sorrow, while sometimes not the smartest of all Corvidae, is still not an idiot, and when Ragnar charges, he decides that not only does he not want to try to get in his way, he wants to be as far away from the impending carnage as he can be while still keeping an eye on this all. He explodes upward in a thunder of wings, finding a much higher branch in a tree that isn't so close to the line of attack.
Then he turns, watching the scene beneath him unfold.
One thing's certain: for all that Ragnar seemed perfectly himself in the Park when this magpie came through, he's certainly not himself now. Granted, he didn't have so very much time to get to know the cat, but at least he knows the Majicou, and at least the Majicou would not entrust all to a bruiser doing his best to appear rabid.
...maybe once he's had something to eat, he'll calm down a little.
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