You don't have permission to post in this thread.
It was prepared this time. Talons lashed out, tentacles latched onto his wings to cripple his flight, but he wasn’t easily caught. Though they’d taken the appearance of a bird, Daniel nor the goatling felt confined to that shape. Skin contorted where feathers once were, flesh buckled and reshaped, until they were entwined close enough to be considered one form. Bell charged at that moment. He brought down the majority of what had been his wings to displace the air, to make sure the back of the crow-goat faced Bellwether.
Another caw resonated in the air; powerful like the goatling’s voice had been. Underneath his powerful claws, the crow-goat struggled and fought to find purchase. It pierced his flesh, only no blood poured out. Daniel simply shaped themselves around it, forming new skin, new flesh. It felt gratifying to be this powerful and at the same time overwhelming. Like he was not himself.
The realization came sudden. Had this been his ‘self’? When had this become self?
His inattention brought about the goatling’s instincts. Using its beak, it started to tear at the flesh writhing underneath him. Without hesitation, it consumed the other goat’s flesh. Daniel felt it enter their being as a foreign entity; felt how it resonated somehow, as it had with the crows.
A voice was heard, died down, and was countered. The whole process lasted only a few seconds, before the goatling repeated. Like a vulture, it violently shredded the quivering and seething mass pinned down by his talons.
The crow-goat wasn’t docilely taking the battering either.
It formed new limbs, tentacles and claws, feathers and a mesh of beaks, to defend itself. The smaller crows that had been hovering were slowly reaching a new height of panic. As if in a frenzy, they came down upon their entwined shapes. It fought to be freed from the goatling’s grasp, but Daniel knew the importance of holding it down. Bell would get hurt. He couldn’t allow Bell-boy or Bell-goat to be hurt.
Again and again they tore at one another. It didn’t hurt. Daniel realized it didn’t hurt. Or he wasn’t feeling it. Either way it was fine. His consciousness felt small and insignificant in the shadow of these two fighting behemoths. The only difference between them was the degradation. Daniel made sure that they had barriers. Skin, flesh, bone. Whatever worked to keep them safe.
It didn’t matter. The core was not within them. It was in the lifeless body, now unconscious, battered and slumped in the passenger’s seat of their abandoned car.
There was a whole fight going on atop the car that he couldn't see anything of. Growls, screams, mysterious thumps, and all he could do was drive the car. He wondered if this was how Daniel usually felt when his goat was fighting; a useless accessory along for the ride. He didn't like the feeling at all.
Crow-goat received from his windows somewhat to face the new threat; had to be the goatling, it was the only thing that made sense. Bell rolled down his window and gave the nearest tendril a smack or two, watched it recoil in pain like a touched fern. If only he could find a place to park there damn car where the law wouldn't find him, he could go help out! He wound through the neighborhood, listening for and turning away from each siren as he heard it. The arson had been pointless in the end. Shouldn't have done it.
Well, no. Not quite pointless. They'd flushed out the goat and scared off the crows, so it'd helped some. It'd just also hurt some.
"Fuck it," Bell muttered. He whipped the car around and up a random driveway, then pulled into the backyard of one of the houses, out of sight of the road. In a moment, he'd parked and jumped out. "Alright, you mother fucker," he started, whipping around to face the goat.
Before he even got a good read on the fight, a tentacle snapped out of midair and swatted him halfway across the backyard. He slammed into a half-rotten shed and crumpled down it, winded. [i Okay. That didn't go exactly the way I planned,] he thought with a huff.
From out of the sky, a huge black bird dove at the monstrosity on the roof of the car, talons spread and a warcry on its lips. For a second, Bell was stunned to silence. It was beautiful. In a way goats didn't usually try to be or attempt to understand, it was beautiful. The broad winds were proportionate to its massive body, and it moved--flew--the way a real bird would, not in the gross facsimile most goats settled for, the not-quite-right motions that didn't abide by the laws of bones and muscles.
And then he jumped up and shook himself up. He still had his pipe, and he still had his arms. Heating the weapon high, he charged at the goat again.
Shit. Panic. The goatling countered the emotion and near enough cancelled it out. Emotions like those would hamper logical thinking. Why humans did that was beyond it, but it decided nothing good had come of allowing emotions like those before. Not in its body anyway. Not if it could help it.
Crow-goat clumped onto their car. Wheels shrieked against the weighed and floundered to gain traction on the dirt. When it finally did, the force of it and crow-goat were enough to flip the car. Shit. He hadn't worn a seat-belt. He'd been throwing stuff out the window and the blasted thing wasn't comfortable on his broken shoulder.
Daniel dismissed the thought. Rather than that, shouldn't they help?
Something of agreement coursed through him at a simmering pace. Yes, they ought to help, but so far, they were still fighting. Why help now?
The exchange of arguments went so fast that Daniel felt as if the goatling was pilfering the knowledge from the dank regions of his brain, rather than try and allow him to actually voice a thought. As if it preferred to speak to his unconscious over him. Perhaps it did.
He'd read somewhere that the subconscious mind decided before the cognitive could even put an ounce of thought in to sway any of the outcome.
They dove down. Air rushed through his feathers. Other crows cawed at him, some joined his dive. Others split apart to give him wide birth. His body changed, grew bigger. Some of the feathers grew into a leathery substance, the space between them far apart. His eyes were black with goat's essence, though amid the crows, the subtle nuances could hardly be seen. In the distance, sirens wailed. The noise echoed between the abandoned houses.
His claws grew. By the time his dive ended and the goatling spread its wings, it had gained considerable size. It rivalled the clump of crows hanging on to the car. He shrieked. The sound was different than crow-goat's. It was louder, resonated with the exposed mass. Claws sunk into feathers and tore gauges into the goat's substance.
Crow-goat was quick; but so was he.
A limb lashed out. Crows assaulted him. Daniel felt how they pushed their wings, created leverage to remain air-born and knock the crows out. They were nothing but a nuisance now. Small specks on the whole of their struggle. Talons and feathers entwined, until it seemed as if they were one being instead of two separate ones fighting. There was no pain, Daniel noted. It felt as if he was watching from afar, detached from it all.
Sound rushed back. They clawed and clawed, until they finally made it back into the air. The goatling didn't wait long, swerved in the air and descended for another assault.
Daniel threw the bottle at the clump of crows. It fell short, splashing against the wall of the house instead. "Ah, so close!" Bell said, reaching for the last one. He wanted to throw one too!
Abruptly, Daniel crumpled in his seat. Bell glanced over, fear shooting through his gut like a bolt of lightning. "Daniel?" he tried. No response. With the car moving like this, he couldn't even tell if the man was breathing.
Crows dove at Daniel's now-defenseless face. Bell yanked the man's body back inside the car and rolled up the window as fast as he could, still clutching the bottle in his other hand. "Shit, fuck, shit," he muttered. It hadn't even really started yet, and everything had gone to hell.
And then the clump of crows began moving as one, and Bell's heart stopped. [i Oh fuck.] He tossed the last lit bottle out the window at it as the thing burst through the window and hit the gas. The car lurched forward, but the goat-crow-thing was faster. It slammed into the rear side of the car and tossed it sideways. Bell kept the gas to the floor as the car fishtailed. Black claws clutched at the vehicle. Feathers crowded the windows. Black tar slunk across the roof. Still the car floundered, wading in the dirt.
The wheels found traction. Like a bullet from a gun, the car shot forward, darting into the road. Bell spun the wheel desperately before he overshot to the other side of the road. Gravity shifted. The car lifted up on two wheels. Bell held his breath.
It tipped over. Everything in the vehicle took flight, the leftover cardboard bottle-holder, the comforter, the water-bottles, anything and everything he'd left lying around in the past few months. Bell's knuckles were white on the wheel while he was slammed around, into the door, the seatbelt, objects pelting him from every which direction. Atop the roof, the goat screeched in pain as a ton of metal crushed it into the asphalt.
The force of the spin kept it moving. It rolled onto its other side, slamming Bell into the opposite side of his seat before it finally deposited him back where he belonged. Wheels found pavement again. Bell stomped on the gas, and they were off again, goat clinging to the roof like some hideous ornament. They couldn't fight here. Not with the police on the way. He sped down the abandoned streets of what'd once been a neighborhood, away from the fire, chased by crows, a goat stuck to his roof.
Bell shook his head. [i This has got to be the worst plan yet.]
They burned. Daniel watched as fiery hot balls of feathers crashed to the ground in screeching pain and for some reason he found it funny. It smelled fiercely, like something was smouldering, like burning human hair and skin. It was foul.
"There, right there," Daniel pointed, around the back. The crows were clumped together around one of the windows protectively, but they weren't actually doing anything. He got Bell-boy's lighter and lit another of the home-made wicks. Smoke billowed in the air as the flames flickered towards the sky, reaching up high. Grass and other plants decorating what was once a garden went up easily, crackling and popping as the flames consumed the fuel in its path.
Daniel leaned out again, pulled back his arm and tossed the bottle.
He didn't know whether it landed.
A flash. Loud, like thunder crackling across the ground caught him, cleared his mind like an eraser. He fell back into his seat. For a moment he couldn't see anything, couldn't hear anything. It was the goatling he felt first. Soaring above it all. He saw the car and his limp body in the passenger's seat. He saw Bell-boy behind the wheel and the flames rise higher.
The clump of crows started to shift and move away from the window like a shambling, fluttering corpse wrought of feathers and tar. Curiosity made him shift his body, change course and take control. Or no, it wasn't as if he was taking control. It felt more as if the goatling was cooperating with what he wanted, steering for him, but following his unconscious thought.
This wasn't good.
What had that goat done to him? Why was he now here?
Just a bunch of feelings. Comfort. Reassurance.
The clump rose up, stretched out and that's when Daniel saw it crawl through the window. Glass shattered mindlessly, as if an after-thought. Feathers and claws stuck out from the goat, who'd created a semi-shell out of a multitude of crows. It looked ugly and vicious. As it crawled out of the house, it let out a horrifying shriek and then, with speed Daniel didn't think it could achieve, went straight for their car.
"Be careful!" Bell called out to Daniel in warning. The crows were getting vicious, and he didn't want to see Daniel get torn up more than necessary. Shit--should've used the gloves. Too late for that now.
The bottles shattered with a satisfying clatter, flame bursting to life across the surface of the house and the grass below. Bell followed Daniel's instructions, navigating the car around to the other side of the house. Fire lit up the interior of the house, flickering against the walls. He let out a holler, excited. This was great. "Light it up!" he enthused. They'd set the whole place ablaze!
The house was starting to take. Even the framework itself was lighting up under the onslaught of flames. When they passed by the fire, the heat was like a furnace. Already, smoke was starting to billow into the sky, dark and thick. Warm orange light flickered on the interior walls, while dark smoke crowded out the ceilings. Amidst the panicked caws, a few crows screeched in pain, fluttering out of the house on flaming wings as though they were the smoke come to life. Like embers, the burning crows crashed to the ground, some of them taking their friends with them as they fell. A fierce grin lit Bell's face. More. He wanted to watch more fall.
"Where?" Bell asked. Outside the window was a whirlwind of black, smoke and crows mixing together like a mad tornado. He followed Daniel's lead, trusting that the man knew better than him right now. "We've got to get out of here, soon!" he emphasized, even as he navigated the car towards the second group of crows. "The police are going to get here in no time."
The second group of crows were clumped around one of the windows on the far side almost protectively. Bell furrowed his brows. What were they up to? Nothing good, that was for certain. Maybe trying to escape with the goat? He narrowed his eyes. Not on his watch. "Toss one in there!" he encouraged Daniel, swinging the car closer. They could score a direct hit if they were lucky.
"Not what I meant, I meant -it's micromanaging each single one," Daniel said with an eye-roll. Bell-boy could be so simple sometimes. Finally, they were getting to see some action. Some sheets stuffed down the bottles' necks and there they were. Flame touched the cloth and soon he held a burning phial of destruction. It was hot.
Bell-boy drove slowly, to give him a bigger window, but he was impatient as it was. He stood, lit the follow-up bottle and leaned out the window before he tossed with all his might. Daniel watched as the glass shattered in a splash of liquid flame. The crows started; all of them took to the skies. Smoke started to develop almost immediately as the fire ate at the wood and brick exterior of the house.
"Shit, they're going crazy," Daniel spat in awe. Claws reached into the window, but with the car moving, it was difficult for the birds to actually keep target. He didn't waste much time either. More flames. He stuck the bottle out. Several of the birds screeched in fear of the fire, as he'd hoped.
There wasn't a lot of time.
Daniel took what small window of opportunity he had and tossed the bottle. He missed the window. Shit.
It didn't matter. Flames licked at the glass and it shattered at the fierce difference in temperature. The air going through the house sucked the flames inward.
"Go 'round for the other window," he said, already preparing a next throw. Crows came at him. Daniel didn't care about the claws. He didn't care about the feathers. Through the goatling he could see exactly where they were congregating; their car and the off-side of the house. Their caws had turned from aggressive to panicked.
Obviously they were threatening something that felt dear to them.
He tossed the third bottle after lighting the fourth. Daniel didn't waste much time chasing it down either. Both splashed against the house and one landed inside. For a second Daniel didn't think the bottle had broken, but the way the interior of the houses lit up like a jack-op-lantern made him think otherwise.
"There," he started, sitting back down to get the next one going.
"They're moving," Daniel said. Some of the flock had broken off from the main body keeping them occupied. "These are only a distraction."
The finishing touches were easy. He stuck the bits of sheet down the neck of the bottles and let it hang down the bottle's length. He'd have to light them, with Daniel like this, but that was fine. He pulled out his lighter and held it at the ready.
Bell drove back towards the house, watching the crows swirl. "Nah, I figured they were doing this on their own," Bell muttered sarcastically to Daniel's comment. A goat was controlling them, what a surprise! Not. "Any feel on where it is?" That'd be more helpful. They'd have an idea where to aim if they knew where the goat was situated. Though, then again, 'the whole house' was probably all the more aim they needed.
He slowed as they approached and pulled up into the house's driveway. The crows were watching them, swirling close but not eager enough to try their metal protection yet. Bell picked up the first bottle and touched his lighter to the wick, then handed it off to Daniel. "I'm gonna drive a circle around the house," he said. "You light it up. Use the wick to light the next one before you toss it."
With that, he pulled off the driveway and started a slow lap around the building. The wheel jerked in his hands as the car bumped over rocks and unseen bumps in the earth, but it was steadier than he'd expected. It had been someone's lawn at some point, he supposed.
The second Daniel threw a bottle, the crows went nuts. They darted into the air almost as one, the snapping and cracking of wings catching the air loud enough he could've mistaken it for a hurricane. The crows wheeled about in midair and launched themselves at the car, feathery bodies thudding against the roof and body of the vehicle. The windows rattled and the car jolted from side to side from the force of the blows.
"Try and get one through a window," he suggested excitedly. Fire splashing against the inside wall... It'd look really cool, and help to kill the goat, wherever it was hiding. Unless it was somewhere in the flock. He glanced up. But surely the goatling would be able to tell if that was the case?
Hold it steady for what?
"You'll have to un-" Oh. He saw what Bell-boy was doing; a dry-run. Yeah, okay. It'd be better if he didn't get gasoline splashed all over himself while Bell-boy sorted out how to manoeuvre the jerrican inside the cramped space of their car. At long last, the man steadily poured the flammable liquid into the bottle.
It was quick.
Daniel leaned over to put it away into the nice little crate and readied another empty bottle.
"Didn't you know that's my middle name?" Daniel chuckled, slightly amused. When had he ever been patient? Lenny did patience.
He waited for Bell-boy, wined and dined the man, treated him all nicely. Not him. He just wanted to get to the good parts straight away. What was the point in waiting? He'd already been made to wait plenty in this life-time.
At long last the last bottle filled up. There was still gas in the jerrican as well.
"It's your death-wish," Daniel said when Bell-boy suggested running around the house. Perhaps at goat-speed, but he didn't see that pan out well. Bell-boy would have another of those episodes and Daniel decided those wouldn't be any good while the man was behind the wheel. The crows were amassing again.
This time, it didn't matter.
The more of them they could bring down, the better. Even if they had to leave and come back. Fighting against a flock of mature animals would be different than facing juveniles. He got to toss it?
"Perfect, yeah, yeah I can," he decided. Couldn't exactly shift gears with that hand being indisposed, but he could use the other to toss. A house was a big enough target that he wouldn't dream of missing it.
Besides, it'd be fun.
He handed Bell-boy the sheets and watched what the goatling was up to as Bell-boy put the finishing touches on their home-made solution for pest control. The goatling was in there; gliding in amongst the crows as they swirled around one pivot. It felt like there was something there, carefully nudging them all in place.
Daniel returned just in time to watch Bell-boy put the final touches on the last bottle.
"It's messing with the crows," he said. If they chopped off the head, he was pretty sure the remainder of the crows would disperse easily enough. No point in staying without some incentive.
Soda splashed out the window onto the asphalt. It felt wasteful, just pouring it out onto the floor, but he wasn't about to eat half a six-pack of soda just before they went on the run for the arson they were about to commit. That sounded like a recipe for wet pants and discomfort.
He set the funnel in the neck of the first bottle. "Alright, hold it steady," he warned Daniel. He didn't want to set the man on fire, either. It was a bit awkward getting the plastic container to tip up in such a restricted space. He kept bashing the edge of it on the ceiling of the little car. The liquid sloshed threateningly every time, but he'd at least had the sense to try a dry run before uncapping it.
At last, Bell managed to maneuver it into position. He tipped the cap up a bit, uncapped it, and carefully poured some gas in, focusing all his attention on the stream. When the bottle was about three-quarters full, he tipped the container back and waited for Daniel to put another bottle under the stream. He did reach around and swap out the funnel, figuring Daniel probably couldn't manage that with one hand.
"Who's impatient now?" Bell muttered, amused despite himself. They both wanted to see this all go down. On some level, he just wanted to see the thing go up. Like a little kid chasing ants with a magnifying glass, he wanted to watch the birds crisp up and burn. And the goat, too, the fat, oily thing boiling from the inside out...he'd never burned one to death before.
The last bottle glugged full. He recapped the plastic container and set it down. "Could try running around the house with the can ahead of time," he said, jiggling it. Wasn't much left in it, but why the hell not, right? Then again, that was a distinct bird risk.
"Where's those sheets?" he asked, reaching for his knife again. Blood had stained his palm worse than he'd expected, but the cut had scabbed over already. "Let's get these babies all ready to go. Your arm good enough to toss while I drive?" They had all the ingredients; now they just had to light 'em and toss 'em and watch the whole house go up.
At least Bell-boy admitted that they weren't in fighting-shape. What exactly were they going to do against a goat when shit got rough? Bell-goat didn't look to be in any shape for fighting and Daniel was hesitant to rely too much on the goatling. It felt like their joker-card. Hit or miss.
They'd fought with worse odds, honestly.
Wouldn't be the first time he'd tried to kill a goat with a car or whatever.
"Impatient. Famous last words," Daniel chuckled and tapped the last of the soda out of the bottle before grabbing a new one. Ill attention had a flying piece of aluminium spring loose in Bell-boy's hand. Daniel raised an eyebrow.
Of all the things-
"Do I need to teach you about playing safely with knives and shit too?" he teased light-heartedly. Hopefully Bell-goat could heal something as simple as that. Daniel slowly shook his head and watched the soda drain onto the floor. Why the fuck were they making these so close to the crows anyway?
Half his head was still up in the sky. He could see the roof of their car. Could see Bell-boy rush out to get the funnel and get back inside. It was weird, having the multiple perspectives on what was happening. Like watching shit in four dimensions, but not.
"Here," Daniel offered up an empty bottle.
"I'll hold it, you pour it. Just don't spill any, Bell-boy," Daniel warned. "Don't want to add burn-wounds to my already impressive resume." It'd be easier with the funnel, but it was small for the jerrican of gas they'd gotten. Daniel just watched. He felt nerves shoot through his body and grinned at the sensation of them buzzing about his gut. It felt good.
Felt like he was living in the here and now, like he was alive.
No longer a dream, at least. Something that broke through the medication. Or maybe he was simply running low.
Either way he was excited to get started. Light up the house like a birthday cake and see what nasties came crawling out the wood-works.
Actually, if the goatling could still manipulate reality like it could, why not make the flames a little higher? Create a bit more chaos? Stir the pot a little. Yesterday's fun had been merely that; a starter.
"Hurry up, I feel like burning things to a crisp already," Daniel said with a grin.
Beautiful but cold. It was an odd way to describe it, but somehow, it made sense. He nodded and watched Daniel for a bit, happy he was enjoying himself. They had so few moments of happiness--especially lately--that it felt cruel to cut one short.
"Well, it'll burn, hopefully, and that'll be that," Bell said. He glanced up at Daniel's comment. A funnel? "Think I could risk going outside the car?" he asked. There weren't as many crows in this area, but there were still enough to make him have a significantly bad day if they decided to attack.
He sighed and looked at Daniel. "We aren't," he admitted. They were really in no shape to hunt, and they both knew it. He wasn't at full strength, and Daniel couldn't exactly contribute much either with only one good arm. "But what're we supposed to do about it? It'll take weeks for these kinds of injuries to heal--weeks where we just, what, sit around and ignore the crows chasing us everywhere?"
If they just took out the house, got the majority of the crows, then even if they didn't get the goat, it wouldn't be able to pose much of a threat to them. If it came out here, they'd be in trouble. If it didn't, then... Then what? Did they stick around waiting for the police to pop by and catch them red handed? Did they just leave the goat to burn and hopefully die?
The aluminum jumped on his hands, snapping out of the cone shape and back into the flat shape of the opened can. The edge caught his palm, slicing it open like a razor blade. Bell hissed and clenched his hand shut, then shook his head. Damn, that hurt. And it hardly even looked like a funnel, anyways. [i Fuck this,] he decided. "Alright, I'm gonna risk it," he declared. Bell put down the broken can and reached for the door. The crows watched him from just outside. He took a deep breath. One. Two.
He ran for it, sprinting to the hood of the car. It was still warm from the engine; he ignored it and popped it open anyways. Funnel, funnel, funnel, where was the funnel...
There! He snatched it up, cut the cord with a quick knife blow, slammed the hood, and ran back into the car. "Got the funnel," he announced, breathless.
"You can see for miles," he said, though it felt like his voice had to come from a great distance. Bell-boy's touch helped ground him a little -literally. Crows dotted the landscape like small specks. Feathers rustled in the wind. The scents on the air briefly whipped him by; the scent of autumn, that of the oncoming spring beckoning just around the corner. He longed for summer.
Daniel shifted, using the pain to forcibly reconnect with his body. He didn't like the detached sensation of a dual consciousness.
"...but it's cold though, felt like it'd only take one mistake and..." Daniel motioned at the pavement. There was a profound lack of control up in the air like that. Nothing to hold onto, no one to catch you. Just you and the unpredictable currents of a windy ocean to chase you down and upset your path.
A hit and run?
Daniel reached up at his face and scrubbed at his cheeks. Okay. Hit and run. Fire. The goatling was up in the air, far away from the origin of all crow-madness. It'd be safe to do so; but they'd have to be quick about it. In and out.
"What about the goat?" he challenged. Daniel watched Bell-boy's hands bend the aluminium from a can into a cone-shape.
"Car's probably got a little funnel...for the oil?" he offered, gesturing at the hood. It'd be there, capped to the side and tethered with a piece of string near the oil-container. Probably. He didn't know -or want to know- what Bell-boy had done to the vehicle while he'd been stuck inside a tube.
"What if the goat doesn't come out -what if it does? Don't want to sound like Lenny, but are we up for this, Bell-boy?" Daniel questioned with a raised eyebrow.
Bell-boy had been down-playing his injuries, but what if the guy started feeling those pains during the whole of it? It seemed whenever Bell-boy got too worked up, the pain started too. Maybe his heart had been damaged, or some other vital organs.
And he couldn't fucking do anything to protect or help Bell-boy. Daniel sighed out and got another bottle of soda from the back. Using one hand, he rolled down the window and started to poor the contents out. Might as well make himself useful.
The sugary drink slid right down his throat and settled in his stomach, the bubbles a calming sensation. He sighed out and took another swig. Somehow, it'd been a long time since he'd had soda. It was mostly water or beer on the road. It was a nice change of pace.
He glanced at Daniel. "Dunno," he said. "Maybe the crows chased them off." He cracked a smile at that one to show he was joking. "Probably just ran out of money, one way or another." They could've asked the lady at the hotel, but it was too late for that. She hated them, anyways, so she probably wouldn't have replied.
"Sure." Bell reached for the bottles, then paused and put the car into park first. "Wanna just dump it out the window? Seems like a waste, but..." What else could they do? If he drank much more soda, he'd have to risk the birds to go relieve his bladder, and he'd rather not.
Daniel's expression turned dreamy suddenly. Goatling had done it? "Nice," Bell said appreciatively. "We've got eyes in the sky, good job."
It looked like Daniel was high, the distant way his face twitched to unknown stimuli, the big, dumb smile. Honestly, it was kind of cute. "What's it feel like?" Bell asked, brushing Daniel's hair back. Looked like he was enjoying it. Argh, he wanted to fly too! But he wasn't like the goatling. Wasn't connected to it, either. He sighed out. Looked like he'd just have to take Daniel's secondhand knowledge as gospel.
He climbed into the backseat and sorted around their junk for the sheets, the bottles, and the big container of gasoline. "Alright, we're pretty much going to have to do a hit and run," Bell said, looking at Daniel. "If the police don't come after us, the birds probably will, so either way it'll be a one-shot kind of scenario." He dug around in the junk in the back seat a little more until he found an aluminum can and set to work cutting off the top and bottom of it. With a little tape and some careful shaping, it'd work as a makeshift funnel. A plastic bag would be better, but he didn't think he had any on hand.
He snorted. Chicken.
"You'd just spoil your appetite," Daniel chuckled, then coughed softly. Bell-boy's thoughts could be so stupidly simple sometimes. Pigeons would be the worst. Mother-fucking birds would give them rabies or worse. Not that crows were that much different.
"Don't look at me like that, I'm fine," Daniel said, clearing his throat a little. Stupid tar. Wouldn't surprise him if he'd die of lung-cancer in the end, caused by the asbestos he was fairly certain was in those old houses.
He reached back and handed Bell-boy one of the soda bottles.
Thirsty? Or just trying to help out clearing out these bottles? Should've gotten themselves a couple more, maybe.
"Why do you think people left the outskirts of the city?" Daniel pitched, trying to make himself comfortable again. It was difficult. Now that the painkillers were simmering down to a level where he could think properly, he was also uncomfortable. It'd be like that for the longest while. His eyes searched Bell-boy's chest, but the man hadn't had another attack in a while. Had the bruise looked like it'd been healing this morning?
Hadn't paid attention enough.
"So what's the plan? We ditching the rest of the soda and preparing our weaponry?" he said with a slight grin playing about his face.
It'd be fun, that much was for sure.
Just light a big bonfire. Why not? Let it all go up into flames.
A weird sensation twisted at his consciousness. He had no other way to describe it. The previous sensation of charred smells in the air were traded for that of fresh air, for the sensation of wind sweeping underneath his arms -his wings. Oh. So it'd managed to get a bird, then?
"Goatling's done it," Daniel said with a satisfied, almost proud smile.
Now they had someone on the inside. For as long as the other goat would allow another to roam in reach.
Daniel imagined it wouldn't be particularly long, if it could help it.
"It's weird," he said with a faint smile.
"Flying is weird." So free. So cold as well. He shivered and tried to detach himself, but it was difficult for some reason. Was it hesitant to let him go? Why? Oh. His knowledge? About birds? It wasn't much. Didn't take much to transfer what he knew.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.