Rorshach's Journal
You're locked in here with me.
Fuck you, Tycho, and your shitty magpie tendencies. Couldn't have left the weird bathing underwear girl alone, could you? Just had to have a little lookie-loo and get yourself snared by a katana wielding superfreak.
He struggled - he struggled hard, but the sheath tripped him up as the water snared him, even as he tugged at the magic and churned his feet on the grassy ground. His fists were still adorned in copper, but his fingers were slowly losing feeling - when he'd come back, he'd come back with sausage fingers, apparently.
Couldn't have been a normal bird, either - just had to be a fucking dragon mage. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Y'can't kill me," he croaked, "better folks'n you have tried. I ain't impressed with th'water works, neither."
He struggled - he struggled hard, but the sheath tripped him up as the water snared him, even as he tugged at the magic and churned his feet on the grassy ground. His fists were still adorned in copper, but his fingers were slowly losing feeling - when he'd come back, he'd come back with sausage fingers, apparently.
Couldn't have been a normal bird, either - just had to be a fucking dragon mage. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
"Y'can't kill me," he croaked, "better folks'n you have tried. I ain't impressed with th'water works, neither."