— I'll break you a hundred different ways —
He has been fortunate, in that on the incredibly rare occasions that he has accidentally fallen into conversation with another, they have at least been moderately interesting. She is enough to hold his attention, for now, although it is difficult to discern that on the empty, emotionless surface of bones that make up his face. The magic of Beqanna is a strange thing; he shouldn’t be able to see, or to hear, or to walk and move. And yet, everything is limited when in this state, but still possible. Enough to get him by, although there is a rusty, mechanical movement to him — there is nothing refined about being made purely of bone.
He hadn’t expected her to laugh, but even that sound was almost fierce coming from her mouth. Everything about her seemed harsh and unforgiving, and he found himself wondering what became of those less fortunate than him; someone smaller, or just simply stupider. “Solitude is difficult to come by. Everywhere is too crowded,” he pauses before adding dryly, “To my liking at least.” In certain company, even one was one too many.
She asks him what he is, and the grating sound he emits is something similar to a laugh. He steps towards her, almost imperceptibly toying with the invisible line they’ve drawn between each other. “What do you think I am?” The bare-bones of his wings creak as he lifts them, rattling as they settle again back into place. He lets his question linger for a moment between them, before answering himself. “I’m normal, except for at night.” It still irked him that he was not in control of the transformation, but there was little he could do about it. Other than continue to be irritated. “And, my name is Nightlock.”
— and I'll make you remember my face —
@[Sochi]
Well at least this one didn’t take two weeks <3