paradisalogs | anger is an acid

Who: Felix and YOU?
What: An angry wizard on patrol
When: The evening of day 4
Where: Anywhere inside Cair Paradisa
Rating: We'll see

There's a difference between being angry and the castle for his own sake and being angry at the castle for -- what, exactly? Allowing these monsters to kill people? Facilitating it in the first place? That was dubious at best. Just like with Slenderman a few years ago, it's unclear how much will the castle might be exerting. Last time it seemed to be trying to help them, as it had, again, with the virus outbreak - though perhaps that was a case of a possessive castle protecting it's things from the wrath of another. This time there is less signs of assistance. He doesn't know what to believe.

All he feels is the rage. And as inadvisable as it might seem, given the circumstances, he sets out tonight on his self-appointed mission to try and protect everyone else. The fact that he might die as a result seems trivial. He is a wizard, after all; and silence was barely a limiting factor to his magic. Let the others investigate it. There were more than enough eyes in the library right now. He might not even have to admit that avoiding his friends was part of the reason.

As soon as it starts to get dark he roams the halls; his witchlights out to light his way, as much to help him see as to make himself visible to others. The tiny pale green lights skitter away into dark crevices and back as he moves, his stride steady and sure. He would kill whatever this was, if he could. It would be something, at least, to let this anger out on.

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[Maybe he doesn't know enough to be afraid, yet, or maybe he doesn't care. It's clear this thing doesn't and maybe it doesn't know enough to be afraid either.

He blocks the path with an arm up against the wall. Snidely asking what he's doing is out of the question, obviously, but the look on his face hopefully carries it]

[If Felix doesn't lower his arm by the time the Gentleman wants to pass, he may find it forcibly moved, and his body being shoved aside. The Gentleman may seem mild mannered and frail, but their strength is alarming.]

[He hadn't planned on a physical confrontation. Wizards aren't exactly the most athletic of creatures and he's not exception, really, aside from not having any kind of training in that direction. What he had counted on was the implied warning of his hands suddenly coming alive with fire being enough to at least give the Gentleman pause.

But that doesn't work in the slightest, and he finds himself with his back to the wall rather abruptly and violently, gasping a little to regain the breath that was knocked out of him.

If the Gentleman thinks that's the end of the argument, however, he's sadly mistaken.

A flash of light ahead of the creature, like a small, heatless explosion that's close to blinding to whoever might be looking at it for that particular moment. A globe of greenish light like a small sun in the middle of the hallway. Mostly harmless, for now.]

[Mostly harmless meaning entirely harmless to the Gentleman. He does partially glance over his shoulder to regard Felix's attempt. It was almost impressive, but not quite. Others have tried similar things to spook him in the other towns he's visited.]

[So much for the warning. Or any possibility that it might have been weak to light in any capacity. It had been a suspicion, given their appearance during the hours of the night.

He slams one fist against the wall, part in fury, part in a hope to distract him for just a moment, while the fire in his other fist flares to life as he tosses the searing energy right at the Gentleman]

[It's almost as if it's a game to the Gentleman.

As Felix sends flames toward his target, the Gentleman turns to face him, a twisted smile upon his pale lips. He opens his arms to welcome the flames, which hit him dead center but quickly dissipate into nothing. His clothes aren't even singed.]

[It's almost like a open challenge that he's more than happy to take. The arrogant taunting implied in the Gentleman's demeanor only makes him want to hurt the creature more.

His hand clenches and flourishes again. But the fire doesn't come from his hand his time. Instead he targets the hem of his pants directly. Anything else would catch fire more or less immediately. It may or may not work, but it's something to try while he strides closer. The truly terrible things he can try require, unfortunately, touch.]

[He might almost be taunting him at this point, asking him to do his worst while knowing his worst is useless without the one thing that will actually destroy him. He'll let Felix continue to try in vain.

The flames lick his pants, but again they disperse until there is nothing. Not even a thread is out of place. The Gentleman lowers his hands and turns away. He should really be getting back to the others now.]

[His lips move to shout out a 'NO', even if his voice refuses to cooperate. It's all blind rage and instinct, even if he is ignoring the one that keeps telling him this is pointless. That he should regroup and try something else rather than blindly trying every spell he can think of.

But Felix often doesn't heed those feelings. Not when the anger has control.

He dashes forward and tries to plant a hand on the Gentleman's shoulder as he turns to leave. More direct forms of injury don't work, but what he reaches for this time is simply it's purest form. Pain. Simple blinding agony that starts from the blood and works it's way outward. It's some of the darkest blood magic he has the misfortune to know - to have felt personally, even - and right now he doesn't care one inch]

anger is an acid

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