closed | i'm crooked, but upright

[wythersake]

WHO: Isaac, Coupe, Casimir, Jenin + Others
WHAT: Catchall for the month
WHEN: Waves my hands
WHERE: Kirkwall
NOTES: Addddding starters to the comments as I go. If you want a prompt hmu.

Comments

[wythersake]

Isaac braces for impact; at length unpeels an eye, and then an arm from rock.

The octopus squelches. He stoops over it to squint. If it's a hallucination, he's done better — as some leftover of the Gallows' latest ghostly infestation, it's not a terribly impressive one. An eye over his shoulder, but they're temporarily alone,

"And what do you think you're doing?"

— Spoken to himself, and not the octopus, gripped at the tail end of a tentacle and lifted aloft. This isn't the greatest idea he's ever had, but a bruised ego demands some satisfaction. A certain inner six year old poking things with sticks does.

[reshapes]

One of the tentacles writhes, slithering up to wrap around the man's hand and arm. It's a slippery, suction cup-y sort of affair from the jello sack splattered on the ramparts. It's punctuated with:

"Didn't your mother ever tell you to keep your hands to yourself?"

[wythersake]

Disgusting.

"Disgusting," Mused. Bartimaeus is welcome for that very important thought. He shakes the hand experimentally, considers winging it the rest of the way over the rail. Instead, heat ripples brief along his skin, not quite enough to catch to flame. Enough, maybe, to see what it does. "You don't have much of a mouth for this."

Backtalk is a hell of a thing coming from a — beak? Do fish have beaks?

[reshapes]

"Excuse you-- Ouch!" The tentacle recoils from the flush of heat, repulsed backward. The octopus, all limp twisting limbs, squirms feebly in the man's grip even as the voice that responds is very sharp indeed. "It's better than the one you've got, if those noises you were making earlier are any indication. Now put me down, or I''ll show you exactly how disgusting I can be."

As if to punctuate the claim, a selection of the creature's tentacles have begun to melt improbably, sticky limbs growing slowly more slimy and dripping the longer it's held aloft. Which isn't actually what he was going for - no, he was thinking about something showy like reforming his essence to add a few extra eyes in unsettling places or maybe just spitting on him -, but fine. Whatever. Lean into it.