ProfetessaOscura
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@Fallapede @Channelknight Fadran
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Made a new animatic from Mistborn!
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Vespyr stood. "I will fetch some fish," he said, and ducked out of the cabin.
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Vespyr swished a bottle of nectar, as if that was the appropriate answer and response.
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Vespyr shrugged. "I'll keep you alive until I die. Regardless of if I die in 5 days or live longer, you will eventually make your way back. My time constraint is not effective enough to stop you, so I might as well follow along until death arrives." He sank back into the couch. Heavens. Was this what an afterlife might be, all soft? Well... not for him. He'd killed enough that saving one child wasn't much of a redemption. He could only hope that there was nothing after death. "Talk with the Sparrow," he advised, "He might not take too kindly to me, now." After all... he had just admitted to being a monster of the Queen's.
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He nodded. Although he couldn't possibly agree with her decision, he could accept it. He wasn't human enough to understand why other humans could behave so foolishly. Not yet. Then again... he had played the fool in saving the child. Maybe he understood more than he realized. Maybe humans were just naturally stupid. The thought made him relax, slightly. Perhaps saving her had been a mistake, but maybe mistakes were just a part of nature.
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"While a rabid dog could accurately assess the intelligence of that plan, that's your decision and not mine to make," Vespyr snapped. Oh no. That was a little too human. Too harsh. He dialed it back. "I apologize."
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Vespyr nodded, as if this was to be expected. "I was a scion of the Qhoral Queen," Vespyr began, "tasked with retrieving a deserter with whom the Queen had invested significant time, power, and energy. I returned the deserter to the Queen, but the punishment vested on the child was too severe. I stole the deserter and fled, touching down on what I assume must have been your rock. It was perhaps the most foolish mistake of my existence." Life. The proper word was life. He wasn't an object. Or, at least, he wasn't supposed to be one now. "Perhaps the best mistake. We shall see." He looked at Janice, and almost seemed childish in their spat. "You didn't have to let me for my mission to have succeeded."
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"Your friends could not protect you against me, much less my master. Former... master. I will be an adequate shield."
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Vespyr considered a laugh. It felt wrong, yet right. It was the right moment to laugh, but Vespyr had almost forgotten how. At least naturally, laughter... was more of a memory than an option. And it would be rude, besides. "If you insist on trying to get yourself killed, I will defend you until I am no longer able," Vespyr volunteered hesitantly. "You and your friends." Damn. Why was it that her hair looked red to him? Why was it that he kept seeing Rain whenever he glanced at this child? They were nothing alike. She was dead. No amount of trying would bring back the girl he'd let be slaughtered. He shouldn't care. There was no redemption, no fixing that betrayal. This... was an act of futility. He was dying, though. Death throes weren't supposed to by anything but futile, he supposed.
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Vespyr sighed. "She knows the island that they may or may not be currently on," he said. Sarcasm. Right. It wasn't nice.
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“Smoll.” He patted her head once lightly, then faced forward again.
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Vespyr rested a hand on her head, calmly turning to look at her. “You are small,” he said, as if that was explanation enough.
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Vespyr nodded in satisfaction. “Then it is settled. The Sparrow will care for your needs. You will remain unobtrusive until the Queen’s search has faded.” Vespyr had a very one-track mind. It didn’t occur to him at all to ask if Sparrow wanted to adopt a magical ex-serial killer child with a semi-fragmented mind. And he seemed to be discounting Janice’s insistant complaints that her friends needed her. After all... it would be a shame, dying to save her, if she went and got herself killed again by the same people she’d just been saved from.
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Vespyr shrugged, then looked at the Sparrow. “You don’t mind that she’s Yevon, do you?” He asked. It was very... strange. Just strange. To reclaim the name. To reclaim even the pronouns of a person. It felt like a lie, after so many years. It would be nice, though, to die as a person.
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“That is inadviseable. They are on the Queen’s radar. They will be the first ones to be hunted and detained in the search for you,” Vespyr explained, as if that knowledge would be a comfort to her. Goodness. He’d always wondered at why couches were made of such... soft, decorative fabric. It was like his back was being embraced, warm and soft. Vespyr let out a contented sigh.
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Vespyr shook his head. “No. Cut and dye your hair. Ingratiate yourself into a local family. Attend an educational service. You can be passably unnoticeable.” Vespyr leaned back, relaxing. “I will help you until I am dead.”
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Vespyr smiled. Oh. Right. They wouldn't be able to tell, with the mask. "The Queen searches for us. She will not be able to find us, so long as we do not stand out."
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Vespyr perched on the couch, then flailed suddenly, as if he hadn't quite expected the couch to cave when he sat on it. It was... plush. Vespyr accidentally thwapped Janice in the face and had the courtesy to look abashed. "I apologize for the inconvenience."
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Vespyr passed an entire bottle over to the Sparrow. That meant four remaining. Vespyr didn't necessarily trust the person, but what did the extra time really matter, unless a solution could be found? He shook his head, then pushed the door open, ushering Janice in. The child was inquisitive, but rather timid. Compared to how she had been earlier... loud, brash, and cruel, she seemed... weak. Smarter, for sure, but weaker. That was an illusion, almost definitely. Janice's personality was simply more subdued after her meeting with the Queen. He shed an exterior cowl of gray leather, tassels sopping, and hung it by the door, then stood in one corner with hands folded behind his back. A sentinel, of sorts. Vespyr... wasn't used to furniture, it seemed. Definitely not a house-trained wastrel. Oh, he knew how people used furniture, certainly, but he'd almost never used it in his life on the spire, and wasn't quite sure if it was polite to take a seat.
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Vespyr noted that. The child was eager to use the new name? Good. Aliases would be better in the future.
