Red Herring - Printable Version

Action. Thought. "Speech."

in truth, he'd... kinda stopped doing alot of things after the whole leg fiasco. he stopped trying so hard and just wanted to hang out with his kid and the other kid he guesses she just decided to bring home with her one day. not that he was complaining, he could find time to hunt for the both of them.

but right now he was looking for other shit, because he was running OUT of shit, so thats why he was here. he needed to get back into polaris to cross somewhere else. eridanus, probably.

however nobody could miss the shiny glowing ring at the entrance, and he was a curious soul at heart, so...

he walked over, bumping it with his nose. how odd, how peculiar! "thats interesting..." he murmured to himself, looking at the fish pattern.

Vanyel hummed softly as he flew along, wings carrying him high above the ground. He tossed a delicious piece of watermelon into his mouth, a bag of cut up pieces dangling off his waistband.

He caught sight of something white below and looked down, brows raising. Was that a... shiny?

He swept down and landed behind Forgraves, brushing himself off as he approached the ring, peering at it from behind the fox.

”Hi,” he said cheerily, ”Nice ring there, is it yours?”

He reached forward to pick it up and inspect, and then in a brilliant show of intelligence... put it on. Y'know, just to see if it fit.

Nidhogg was currently upside-down.

While there was nothing particularly unusual in that for Nidhogg, it might have been unsettling to look up and see his grinning acid maw and too-many-eyes staring down, for some.

Really, Nidhogg wasn't allowed out of Draco. But everyone had left. Vargas had told him to stay put, and he'd paid close attention as the Master and his stupid watchdog lumbered off, and the moment they had gone, Nidhogg had scampered out. It was time for an adventure. Maybe he'd go back to Draco--some day. Maybe he wouldn't! Maybe he'd already forgotten it existed.

So anyway, now he was upside-down on the roof of Tunnel O, quite some distance above the strange golden ring.

As it was, he'd come in silent, or as silently as he could; he'd crept along the darkened roof, avoiding the hanging orb lights, to examine the glittering gold thing on the floor. He watched as the other two arrived, and though he had no particular attachment to the thing, he did wonder what they intended to do with it. What it did.

He noted that the fox had barely arrived first. And he noted that the other thing, with wings, had come up, asked who it belonged to, and promptly taken it without awaiting a response. So that was how one did things? He knew nothing of those outside the Forge, but "take it if you want it" was just fine by him.

"What issss it... forrr?" he asked abruptly, from above, his voice a sibilant hiss. Acid eyes darted from one of them to the other, tongue flicking out tentatively. "What doesss it... do?"

And then, eyeing them both: "Isss it... yoursss?"

That was, it seemed, the correct question.

The ring did nothing as others approached it, and even when Vanyel tried it on—it fit the tall creature's pinky finger, at least—there was no magnificent display of magic, no whispers, no suggestions that the ring may be anything more than just a ring. The only indication that it may be something special was that it had been left so strangely in the open as if someone had wanted it to be found.

"They've found a ring," said a sudden voice, though from no particular place. It seemed to move around them with the breeze and had no discernable starting point. Smooth as velvet, the voice was well articulated and sort of a medium-deep tone. It was the perfect voice for a radio host or book reader—ah, yes... a narrator.

"That one's put it on. Fits the pinky like it were made for them," said the narrartor, voice curling around each syllable. Its manner of speaking was somewhat slow, leading into each word carefully.

"But what kind of ring is it?" the voice continued, unaware or unwilling to acknowledge anything the participants might have said. "Gold and expertly crafted... carefully emblazoned fish... What might have made such a thing?" A pause. "And for whom? Why?"

Vanyel let out a very dignified scream as Nidhogg spoke, his head jerking up before he almost... winced.

”Caves- uh... hi? Nice to meet you too, I'm Vanyel,” he said, ”And good questions! I don't know what it's for aside from wearing, and it's not mine, I was just trying it on.”

He jumped again at the voice and clutched his hand close, ”Uh... either of you got buddies who followed you or something...?”

Vanyel looked down at the ring, his draconic vanity flaring at the sight of such pretty gold adorning his hand. Made for them, it was. Or that's what his inner dragon repeated.

”Oh is it for that Black City thingy?”, he asked, having heard of it from- go on, take a fat guess.

Yep, his MOM.

”Can I like, keep it?”, he asked into the cave, ”It's real nice and you did say it fit like it was made for me... I mean unless either of you want it.”

Might as well offer.

Action. Thought. "Speech."

Forgraves jumped at the void. turning to the others in quick greeting before turning to reply.

"u-uh! that's interesting. hello, strange voice!" he called out, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

he cleared his throat, looking to vanyel. "i don't think it'd... fit me?? maybe it would, but. you can have it if you really want it. though i.. might want to study it, if you'd let me, some time? i-if he's allowed to take it!" he clarified at the end, incase the voice said it wasn't his to take.

he huffed, looking to nidhogg, not too disturbed by his presence, was still, well, shocked. but he waved to nidhogg all the same.

At the sudden Voice, Nidhogg screamed. It wasn't a screech that was sort of like a scream, it was an outright high-pitched, startled scream.

He also fell off the ceiling.

His landing was a half-scrabbling mess, twisting midair and flipping around like a serpentine cat before hitting the dirt far below with a thunk, and it took him another moment of rolling in dust to get back upright again. At least he hadn't broken anything. He skittered backward, hissing at the now too-close strangers, and jerking his head around to look for the disembodied voice. He answered it, and the other two, all at once:

"I don't know what it'ssss for! I assssked! I don't know! Nidhogg-" oh, bad, bad, not allowed- "Chaos-One doessss not know!"

He kept a safe distance from the two, just in case, suspicion visible clearly in the arch of his torso and the quills raised up like hackles, and the way he slowly skittered back--and then forward, then, tasting the air as he eyed the ring on Vanyel's finger. It wasn't a greedy gaze--though it might've been hard to tell. It was greed if only for curiosity, not for a shiny object. "Issss it for... games?" he guessed. "I like--gamesss." This was said wistfully, eagerly--he didn't get to gamble nearly enough in Draco.

It was probably a good thing the Deathmatch was on, today, or he'd be caught out for being out here as it was.