Locke
The chance to escape the sidelines and step into the game had almost cost him. And still might. Get a question wrong to a tutor and he might find the flat of a blade, or at worst, a laborious task that even Hercules would turn down. Yet, he hadn’t gotten this one wrong. Locke was secure in all the confidence of a quick student that this forest was indeed silenced by death. What he forgot in his blind security, was that since this was no longer the classroom, getting an answer right did not mean you got the question right. The youth had tried to apply the logic of the sidelines to the real world, and it was about to be thrown back in his face, or in this case, held against his jugular.
The creature switches on so abruptly, it jolts the young stallion back a step, for he hadn’t realized she’d been switched off. Weapons raising, dark sleek body coming forward (so that all the reaper was missing was a dark cloak of shadows), Locke grabbed every nerve by the throat to hold himself steady, yet he still could not prevent the raising head and pinning ears as she stepped well into his space. Never forget Locke was a youth. An experienced one in life’s emotional and physical hell, but still a youth. Still young and fresh without lessons such as this one learned. Without realization that while he had learned a great many things, and could do even more, that did not mean he knew the rules of this world. Of course, it didn’t help when Reaper Goddesses of this wood decided she seemingly didn’t want to play by the rules.
Madness, he labelled it, as his narrowed eyes met hers and they came to a hold up. His expression lacked the playfulness of before, but managed to still hold up a wall of distant concern. It was of an individual who bore her threat like a knock at the door, and asked them merely to leave a message after the beep. It was, most of all, a bluff, seen by the feathers at his back ruffling. (One day he must really master those bastards.) Inside all manner of bone aching cold seeps into his blood, labeling each muscle with commands to move and prepare, blockading resources of masks and amusing thoughts as it walled up its defenses. Every humorous thought he’d had only seconds ago was defenestrated by the her single syllable ‘ah’.
Yet, as you have well been told dear reader, do not underestimate the young bastard. For all the toss up and internal chaos she had just caused, the young thief still had wit and cleverness just as sharp as her threats, and while inexperience may be a weakness, it is also a strength, for Locke didn’t know what he should not do. He did not know he should not threaten her back. “I know that yours are the only ones so far I’ve seen that lead straight in chase.” Defiance flares like a small flame in the smooth tones of before as his head tucks down slightly with the weight of the accusation.
He inhales to speak again to find that smell of rot shoving itself in his lungs so forcefully his mind questioned if oxygen was even mingled in it (and little thoughts nipped at his heels that she smelled like that for a reason and distance no longer protected him from it). “That I merely arrived in these woods today to find them already dead.” The last words slowed as he tried to bring his own gavel to bear against the echo of hers. (Could his, so newly minted, do such though?) “That you still haven’t told me what you seek, reaper.” At the name he forces a brow to light, and head to tilt, taking all he could manage to hold it steady. Oh how he mourned the ease with which he’d been calling to a dead god ghosts as he named the death he saw along her talon’s edge.
OOC:: @Thana That was rough, so sorry lovely, but I really go into in the end, their accusations of each are fun to write!
