The body is different, of course, not only the dragon parts-- Rich is older now, scarred and then healed over, but beneath that, he is the same. The only way Rich ever managed to feel strong, to feel confident, was when he learned to stomp down anything or anyone in his path, to tear the things that hurt him apart. Rich was freed from his fear when he vented it outward, inflicting it onto everyone else.
This is no different.
His fear and pain welled up... and this time, they literally transformed him, giving him a form that could crush that which was upsetting him.]
Using violence to defend yourself from that which hurts you... you say your strength now has nothing to do with us, but who was it that taught you that little trick, Rich?
[Its voice is ice.
If what he wants is a fight-- if Rich's aim is to turn this into a draconic pissing contest, well. Fine.
The SQUIP's own form begins to shift in return; and where Rich goes for mass, the SQUIP's form is sleek and alien, a long neck and shining white-blue scales, the horns that grew atop its head extending upward and curving wickedly. Its eyes are still mismatched-- one black as pitch, the other a vivid, cruel white, both set into its odd head, narrowed. Circuitry marks the webbing of its dark wings.
It glances one last time, sidelong, at L; and then it ascends, taking flight to meet Rich wherever he may decide to attempt making his way through the barrier.]
no subject
The body is different, of course, not only the dragon parts-- Rich is older now, scarred and then healed over, but beneath that, he is the same. The only way Rich ever managed to feel strong, to feel confident, was when he learned to stomp down anything or anyone in his path, to tear the things that hurt him apart. Rich was freed from his fear when he vented it outward, inflicting it onto everyone else.
This is no different.
His fear and pain welled up... and this time, they literally transformed him, giving him a form that could crush that which was upsetting him.]
Using violence to defend yourself from that which hurts you... you say your strength now has nothing to do with us, but who was it that taught you that little trick, Rich?
[Its voice is ice.
If what he wants is a fight-- if Rich's aim is to turn this into a draconic pissing contest, well. Fine.
The SQUIP's own form begins to shift in return; and where Rich goes for mass, the SQUIP's form is sleek and alien, a long neck and shining white-blue scales, the horns that grew atop its head extending upward and curving wickedly. Its eyes are still mismatched-- one black as pitch, the other a vivid, cruel white, both set into its odd head, narrowed. Circuitry marks the webbing of its dark wings.
It glances one last time, sidelong, at L; and then it ascends, taking flight to meet Rich wherever he may decide to attempt making his way through the barrier.]