thechanged | Stealing Yourself: A Crime or Not a Crime?

There were, he had determined over the last four days, three fundamental truths about himself.

One, that he had a place and a purpose. Those were the most clear and most solid truths in his head, by virtue of being the first of the very few truths he had. They had been real when he had opened eyes that were not quite his eyes and saw his world, narrow as it was, and himself, his real self, utterly foreign and utterly familiar to him

Two, that item one was somehow wrong. There was more, more that he couldn't dash from his mind or excuse away or deny, no matter how long he had dwelled on it. Something more, something more; the thoughts would rob him of sleep if he hadn't discovered the first night that he didn't need to sleep at all.

And three, that he wasn't to move. He moved only when wound; he moved only when allowed.

It had taken three more days to work through the thorny, deeply ingrained aversion that had latched into his mind and refused to leave. Even on the night of the fourth day, in the quiet hours of what would rightly be early morning, there was something akin to nausea rolling in the pit of his belly when he walked - walked, not stalked about like some kind criminal - into the library and up to the rows of display shelves.

He was still there, glittering in the muted light, scales attractively iridescent, eyes aglow with a matching fire.

He shuddered, right down to his core, and a harsh sickness caught in his throat, but he picked himself up anyway, carefully cradling him in his arms before turning abruptly on his heel, marching back toward the exit.

[[OOC: A certain possession is making off with himself! That is, a clockwork dragon whelp about as big as a cat, immobile and a bit delicate-looking. This is open only to one! c: ]]

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The twins saw the Possession carrying the clockwork dragon just as they were coming into the library to rummage among the books again, searching for clues. The pink peacock decided he looked a little like he was doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing and, without slowing down, moved to intercept this path and grin at him, a touch ferally.

"Hello, mate," she said. "Nice weather we're not having, eh?"

The blue peacock, having noticed what was going on, moaned in dismay and doubled back to where his twin was now standing. He said nothing to the Possession, only looked at him apologetically.

And here he had assumed that most of the manor's denizens would be asleep at this hour. Although, all things considered, I don't sleep and there seems little reason or opportunity for anyone else to partake of a peaceful slumber. That annoying revelation came on the heels of a brief shock of surprise, one that drew him up short - and his arms closer against his chest, cradling his treasure - and tugged the corners of his mouth down into a sharp frown. Were it not for the unease already rolling in a happy, miserable tumble in his belly, he might have answered differently. As it stood -

"...yes. Most definitely," he replied, the edges of his words clipped in warning. "I will continue to not enjoy this un-weather we are currently not being subjected to."

He drew himself up a little taller and glanced at the doorway behind garishly colored bird.

"If you would."

The pink peacock clucked her tongue and lazily unfurled her -- admittedly magnificent -- tail, blocking the doorway. She shook her head at the Possession and tried waggling a finger for emphasis, but her twin grabbed her wrist and forced her hand down before she could get much momentum going.

"We aren't guards, dearest," the blue peacock hissed at his twin, keeping a sideways watch on the Possession. "If he wants to steal something, it's his, er. Well, ah, not his right as such, but it's not up to us to stop him."

The pink peacock snorted and easily freed her hand from the other's grasp. She turned her attention back to the Possession and pointed at the clockwork dragon clutched in his grasp.

"Why do you want that, anyway?" she said. "It looks nice but it don't seem valuable."

"Value is relative," the blue peacock said, softly. He looked at the Possession apologetically and added, half-mumbled, "I'm sorry, dearest, she likes to ... ah. Tease people."

He bristled. Of course he bristled; a cold thorn had lodged under his ribs the moment those words had come out of the female's mouth.

Valuable. "Why I want it is my business. Or is this going to turn into an interrogation of some kind?" He looked at the second one, the male, who so far hadn't so much as raised his voice. It was obvious to anyone that looked at them that they were a matching set, through for what purpose he couldn't so much as fathom. They didn't have the physique or the form to be part of any security, so what?

And the female had the gall to lecture him. "While I appreciate the apology, your companion is nevertheless in my way."

He leveled a hard look at the first of the fowl.

"I request that you move."

"She's not my companion," the blue peacock said, with a grimace of distaste. "She's my twin. I didn't ask to be stuck with her. I'm sorry about her, really, I am."

The pink peacock smirked at that and blew her twin a kiss, then turned to address Wrathion again, her grin broad and somewhat predatory.

"Hang on," she said. "Hang on, that ain't you, is it? Hah! You don't really match the age group, but hell, what do I know about big fucking lizards?"

Like a vulgar child.

His expression shifted subtly, the scowl flattening at the edges and the tenseness in his shoulders bleeding away. Real threats, real authority - those were a concern of his. Anything else - "Yes, what do you know? It's an excellent question."

His lips pulled into a smile. There was only a faint gleam of sharp teeth. "I take it you've come to the library this early to...study?"

Study in the dead of the night, or the earliest catches of morning, depending on one's perspective. "It is commendable, going to such lengths to improve yourself."

Edited 2013-09-08 03:21 (UTC)

The blue peacock bristled at the perceived insult.

"I don't need improvement," he hissed. "We're here to find out what's wrong with this fucking house, darling."

The moment the last word left his lips, he clamped both hands over his mouth, realising that Mason could hear him and, presumably, punish him. When the ceiling did not rain selective death on him, he relaxed and took his hands away, placing them instead on his hips.

Meanwhile, his twin was to get a closer look at the actual clockwork dragon, entirely ignoring both what the blue peacock and the humanoid spirit of the clockwork dragon were up to.

"Oooh, 's delicate work. Our Keeper's definitely got some taste," she said, standing on tiptoe to lean in and get a better look.

"Ah, yes, of course. A noble endeavor, although there are quite a few books to look through." He used one arm to gesture to behind him; the eves and corridors of the library were cavernous and plentiful, respectively. He made it all sound so terribly flippant, as he had, so far, little reason to fear or concern himself with the house.

It was, after all, only a house. What was he going to do, creak and perhaps get termites? "I do wish you the best of luck, though you may be able to speak to the encyclopedias for a head start."

Even while he spoke, he skillfully sidestepped the female twin, dodging that peering and planting himself to their right.

The pink peacock made an annoyed noise that sounded somewhat like the squawk of an actual peacock and crossed her arms. The blue peacock scowled at her and said, "it's rude to try to check out people when they can see what you're doing, darling."

The pink peacock cringed and finally folded her tail.

"I wasn't checking him out like that," she said. "Was just curious what the hell he is."

The blue peacock ignored her and spoke to the dragon, "oh, have many encyclopaedias awoken? That'd be rather handy. But what are you doing running off? Afraid someone will knock you off a shelf, darling?"

He raises an eyebrow at the dragon and smiles. He's teasing, but not trying to be mean.

He knew he shouldn't ask. He couldn't have cared less, to be entirely honest, and these two were both irritating, a roadbump (...curious. How did he know what word?), and somewhat confusing besides. He should have just ignored it and moved on, but in the end his eyes flicked to the pink peacock and he found himself asking:

"Like what?" He asked, because he genuinely did not know. "What are you checking? What for?"

He cleared his throat, adjusting himself in his arms. "If you must know, it is because I've seen more damage to this house over the last few days than it has probably endured in a century. There is a very good chance I'll be set aflame, or crushed, or stolen without my knowledge."

Stealing Yourself: A Crime or Not a Crime? | Day 4, Late Evening [OPEN]

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