You Face Yourself

Kha'zix ask/rp/art blog

[modestmuses-aa]

@unrestrained-evolution​ said: “"Let me eat it.“ It isn’t hard to peak over her shoulder given his size but he does so anyway, hunched over and eyeing the strangely dressed human.”

Akali already knows that the man in front of her is going to die.  His fate was sealed the second she got him on his back, and she has her kama raised to finish the job.  But she is cut off by her new… friend from the Void.

He had scared the piss out of her at first, just seeing that hulking monstrosity, and she had prepared herself for a fight.  But unexpectedly, he seemed wholly uninterested in a conflict and even spoke to tell her as much.  He told her that she had nothing to offer him, nothing that he had not already consumed and adapted from somebody else.  So, the two of them ended up sitting by her fire and eating more mundane food while he complained about it and she attempted to process the absolutely bizarre situation.

They have been sticking together ever since, all while she thinks about how much the Kinkou would disapprove of their new partnership, strong of a word as that may be.

She looks back at Kha’zix, some of the malice draining from her eyes at facing someone who is not actually an enemy, but it remains mostly there nonetheless.  She does have a desire to kill the Noxian herself, just like she has cut down many others since embarking on her personal mission.

The man, of course, hardens his gaze as he looks up at Kha’zix and the reality of the situation starts to dawn on him, that typical Noxian spirit, stubborn and not wanting to look weak to the very end.  He is going to hold his chin high until somebody tears it off of him, which is disappointing.  Akali does wish they would cry a little more and provide her with some much needed amusement.

She decides that she will let her friend have this one, though, and she lowers her kama, though keeps it in hand in case the Noxian decides to get stupid.  “Yeah, go for it,” she tells the insect.  “He’s actually from a nation that’s trying to create the perfect warrior, at whatever cost, so you should eat as many of them as possible. Anyone in that same uniform is free game.”

[unrestrained-evolution]

A low chittering starts in his chest as he steps forward, the sound grows into wet laughter as she gives her agreement to his request. Time has brought about it’s own sort of adaptations. Kha’zix has learned, that there is something important to be said about fear. More than simply flavoring the meat of prey it is the catalyst of breaking a human.

 Humans he has found, enjoy their posturing. Puffing up their bodies like that of a fish or a bird or any baser prey to make themselves seem larger. To make their courage seem larger. There’s something special about breaking them of this false courage. Of true fear. “This one is worthless.” This is something he knows intuitively. A body lacking everything. Worthless to consume in his supreme quest to adapt. To change, to overcome all other predators and become the apex. But he will enjoy the crunch of bone. The tearing of flesh. The echo of screams. 

“Unfit for adaptation.” Quicker than the blink of an eye Kha’zix leaps, wings fluttering as he sinks his scythe like forelimbs into the shoulders of the human and buries them deep into the earth below. With the bicipital tendon severed the human will only be able to uselessly kick at his thick carapace. Which, predictably he does. Jaw clenched in an effort to keep his pain in the Noxian attempts to kick him off. 

But here is the interesting part, there is a small creature with scythe like forelimbs of its own and wings too that consumes it’s prey alive. Kha’zix remembers this creature. For when he was small it was the first thing of this world he had consumed. Humans for all their puffing up, they make the best sounds when are they eaten alive. “You like it when they scream?” His gaze flicks briefly towards his- Companion? Before returning to the struggling meal beneath him.

His lower jaw splits as he opens his mouth and as one furious leg kicks he catches it in his mouth, and then he starts to consume. 

[unrestrained-evolution]

Bug sounds

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

Wings. Expected yet unexpected. She watches their movement, watches the way they flutter, compares them to other bugs she has seen, determines their use. Making sure to leave space for Kha’Zix, she begins to walk backwards - literally, as she watches Kha’Zix and steps without looking where she’s going. The Ball is watching her front, watching what comes next, chirring and purring.

“The body of mortals is ever susceptible to disease and poison.” She stops for a second, twisting on her feet to jump another few feet upwards, ascending onto a higher walkway, then peers curiously at Kha’Zix. Should she tell him? Her eyes spark slightly as she observes him, observes all he is, and finally she answers.

“Most creatures are not adapted to survive in toxic environments. Plants without water and clean air.” She pauses a moment, considering the delivery method. “I am certain that without proper cleaning, an open wound and toxic sludge might cause a similar issue. Gangrene, nerve damage, rot…” She isn’t sure how to explain to Kha’Zix that breathing in toxic air causes damage. If he doesn’t understand this, then he probably does not understand cancer from cigarettes. The problem was that the Gray was so charged with refuse that it was unpredictable as well - it was just as likely to kill the lungs as to attack any other organ. Years of prosthesis work attested to that. Medical science was in many ways lacking. She would fix that.

“The creature you are looking for is an octopus or a specific species of fire ant. The former expels a cloud of ink, and while this acts as a smokescreen for the octopus, we are not in water. Spraying such a thing would result in longer-term vision impairment, and filling the air with ink particulate would be similar to a smokescreen, preventing breathing. The ant also sprays acid, the results of which should be readily apparent, in addition to its stinging bite.” She leaves the conclusions to Kha’Zix, she simply provides the information. Perhaps she should not? She has given information before, blithely, without considering the consequences. Paid without considering the consequences. Chem barons had…

Should she threaten this bug? Her face does not betray her thoughts.

Seeing without seeing. Strange, odd. The orb, The Ball stares forward, she stares backwards. Twinsighted? One being, a unit. Symbiotic. 

Upwards he continues. Wings making his jumps into soaring leaps. Environment hazardous, toxic to those who live within. Yet they continue to do so. Options must be limited, or humans have adapted in their own way to survival here. As there are humans who survive. He could sense them. The damage the this rot causes, he knows not every specific. But what he does understand means a great deal. Dangerous, foolish. “Your information. Appreciated. Adaptation of the body means little if one cannot use cunning, wit to survive. Outside factors could lessen pollution.” His gaze flicks towards her as he lands lightly on his feet. 

“Creatures of deep ocean, obtain immunity to toxic environment. Study of them have answers to adapt for you?” Information for information something he has not attempted before. It is a rare creature, that filters the poison of other creatures. Large, dangerous. Can survive poisonous spines and more. It was useful, still is useful. Poison and toxin have no effect on his body.

The information she shares could be used in his ultimate hunt, these creatures, both he has come across, though small have useful traits he can obtain. 

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

Were she privy to Kha’Zix’s thoughts, she might clarify that she is average height for a biological female of her race and descent, and other such phenomena - but she is not, so she does not. She is only privy to the thoughts of the Ball, as the Ball is privy to her own thoughts. Always back and forth, intermingling, as if her soul is sweeping to and fro like a lazy ghost.

As Kha’Zix determines the depth of the chasm beyond the precipice, she stands upon it - both its herald and its escapee. At last, he seems to come to a conclusion.

“Then, we go.” Her knees bend for a moment before she jumps backwards, catching a protruding pipe. Spinning off it, then off a ledge and another outcropping, she finds purchase on a broken walkway some distance upwards. The movements come naturally, as if she has practiced these acrobatic motions hundreds of times before. The scar across her side flares up. Leaving space for Kha’Zix to land, she answers his prior query.

“The Gray is what those of the region call this smoke around us. Filled with chemicals and toxins, overexposure can lead to a disease known as the Blight. This disease manifests in a rot of the body’s organs among other symptoms, and can lead to death.”

Just like you. The whisper is behind her, fingers wrapped around her neck. That’s right, you died, didn’t you? To this. To your bravado. The words twist and muddle to the point she can barely understand them, but the message is clear. The reminder is clear. She stares up at the smog-filled sky while the Ball keeps an eye on Kha’Zix.

“It is worse the lower the elevation. Thus, many residents of the lower city wear rebreathers, especially on bad days. The Gray is the catch all name for the fog made of toxic particulate that covers Zaun. Was that explanation satisfactory?”

For a time, he watches. Observes. Traces her path downwards. The human is agile. Quick and flexible until something, an injury? Halts her. Wings spread from beneath his carapace, and then he leaps with a great heave upwards. His wings propel him ever upwards and he soars- Until of course he reaches the same height she is and he allows himself to slow until he lands beside her. He scents no blood and had seen no injury during her own assessment. Strange. An old wound then.

 As she speaks his antennae twitch to a fro, listening, sensing. They tell him of vibrations on the winds. The bodies moving large and small through passages and pathways unseen by the eye. Above and below. Further down than they are. The Gray. Toxic, debilitating. Useful, impossible to acquire. Disappointing. A thought hits, one he mulls over. Why are there more far below, if The Gray is so dangerous to humans? Why live in these conditions if adaptation of ones own body is impossible?

The Gray does not effect him. Kha’Zix knows of this. Innately. Natural senses honed to know what could and could not kill him. It was in the first taste of air through specialized lungs, adaptability acquired through a creature of the deep that could survive in the most toxic of environments. Useful adaptation that continues to prove itself worthy.

“Yes, your explanation is useful. To the point. I appreciate such things.” He turns his head, observing person and land. These buildings are tall like steel trees that reach ever upwards towards the sky. The jungle is preferable, but his worthy prey does not live in the jungle. “This blight, it is a necrotic toxin that targets organs. I have not seen the like in any creature. Is it because it is inhaled that it targets organs?”

It is possible that some form of this exist within nature itself. He knows that there are powerful toxins in the tiniest of creatures. When he was small, he devoured a creature with a powerful debilitating toxin that slowed its prey. It was adapted into his spike rakes. 

Always adapt. Always change. It is the way of the void. It is the way of him.

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

She watches him watch as he watches her watch. Watching, watching, watching, tick-tock. Perhaps they will understand each other, just as they are trying to understand themselves. Improve themselves. The squeezing discomfort comes again as she thinks about personal evolution. V… V… Something. Someone. It presses against her head like a vice, squeezing.

“I am average height.” She laughs, openly, as if she is making a joke. It sounds almost normal, until the mechanical inhale gives her away. Not quite human. Not quite there. But he thinks she is. No claws. No weapons. A soft, sharp thing. She laughs again, without smiling. This time the laugh is real. This time the laugh is hers.

In the process of checking her own body for errors- for injuries, she has affirmed her own flexibility and strength as well. Her tongue runs across her teeth, pushing against either cheek. Ah, that’s missing. No taste. She’s in reality, but she doesn’t have that back. Hmm.

“This is the Ball. We, together, are a weapon.” The Ball bows, then rights itself, staring. Then she curtsies, gripping the edges of an imaginary dress.

“We are leaving. The Gray will rot most from the inside.” Her foot scrapes backwards, stopping just shy of the drop behind her. “Will you be leaving with us or separately?”

Average height. Observation. Kha’Zix is not familiar enough with the varying heights of human ilk to know the average height of one. The information is filed away. There is possibility of usefulness in the future. All information can be useful. Like date. Time. It was not useful to him. But to another.

The Orb. Named The Ball. His gaze watches both, measures their stance. The way in which they stand together, the vibrations of other and he does not question it. What he question’s is if there is worthy prey within them. He does not believe it would give adaptation. The Orb, Ball is mechanical. Human made. Such a thing gives him nothing. The human, is human. There is that sense of Other, but it is not enough. 

With? An offering. What is there to gain from conversation, from language of body and mouth? There is a great precipice before him. A great something in the deep dark. Kha’Zix does not know what this something will be. Evolution is nothing but change. It is becoming stronger, faster, better. In body and in mind.

Change is good. It is the crux of his being. Evolution of body, mind. Where would he be without his new found cunning? The knowledge of ever better ways to hunt? There was no conscious choice he could make at that point, yet now there is one before him.

Will this lead to evolution? The only way to know, is to take the leap and Kha’Zix has never been afraid of leaping. “With. What is the gray?” The term has been uttered many times, yet never do they explain. Scythelike forelimbs fold inwards, pressing against his carapace in rest as he shifts his weight to move forward. “Many have spoken of it. None explain.” 

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

997 AN. 99…7? That’s wrong.

Her eyes train on the predator in front of her, but just like chembarons who lord over the slummers, there’s no reason to lie. Not unless emotional cruelty is one’s fetish. This creature does not seem to be one of those. Nine-Nine-Seven.

“Thank you.” Ever polite, the inventor, as she carefully slides her left hand across her right arm. It’s as though she’s pulling a sleeve down, though she repeats the same motion with her other arm, then begins to gently pat her neck, her cheeks, her back, and slowly across her thighs and shins. Rather than bending her waist, she raises her knee up and angles herself so that she can defend against an incoming assault. With her leg raised like that, flicking it out for a kick would be natural.

No injuries. However, her body is not like she remembers it. Scars. A lot of scars. Laughter echoes from behind her, enough to cause her eyes to flick to the side - but it’s not real. The Ball didn’t hear it. Her gaze flicks towards her partner for a moment, affirming her suspicion, then back to Kha’Zix. This is dangerous. More dangerous than any chembaron. Perhaps as dangerous as the ‘Howler’. Perhaps even more.

An uncomfortable feeling spreads across her skin at the acknowledgement that things are not how she remembers them. Not her body, not her mind, not anything. Nothing is how it should be. But she has fingers, not claws, or so she thinks. The Ball agrees, but perhaps…

“One more question. What do you see in front of you? Please.” The predator has no reason to lie. Scientists and predators both excel at observation, so she can trust this response. If he agrees with her assessment, then that will be all… And she will have to find a way out of the lower city.

It is strange to stand here. To have a conversation instead of leaving to continue the hunt. Or killing the one before him and consuming.

 Humans he has learned, are social creatures. They crave the contact of their own kind and that of others. Kha’Zix does not believe such a thing is a useful trait to adapt. He does not believe he has adapted such, yet he finds little reason to leave. 

Intrigue. The echo of existence about this human. It sparks curiosity. A new thing that has come with his greater sentience. 

Predator eyes track the movements of her arms. Strange. Seemingly without purpose. Seeking comfort? Distraction? Neither. Seeking understanding. Of oneself. 

“Small. Human. Posture defensive. Leg up, easy retaliation. Calculating. Self touch seeking understanding. Scars. Motions stiff, mechanical. Seeking affirmation from companion.” His Antennae tilt, up, forward assessing just as his eyes do.

“Strange echoes around. Not of void. Not of this plane. Other. Elsewhere. Gaze, distant? Thoughtful, thinking. Assessing.” Lower mandibles click together as he finishes his observation, giving punctuation where inflection falls flat. 

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

As diamonds cut diamonds and weapons recognize weapons, she recognizes the look of a sharp thing like her. Her chest tightens with an unknown emotion, yet another unknown emotion, but it does not reach the rest of her body. Her pupils do not dilate, her breathing does not hasten, her heart rate does not change.

She simply stares back. Will he break easily. Orianna blinks, fingers stretching out to the Ball to call it back to her side. Unlike a pet, the sphere is positioned to her side like a comrade, supported but not dominated by her hands. Is she the pet or the protector? Is the sphere the guard dog or the princess? In sync, both she and the Ball tilt their heads to the side slightly.

“Do not be hasty.” The Ball whirrs. Scythes. Claws. Weapon, weapon, weapon. This is the danger, then. After a long pause, Orianna finally comes to her answer.

“We don’t know.” A pause. Her head untilts. She should say something after this. ‘We don’t care if you chase him. Stay away from us. Who are you. What do you want.’ There are many, many questions. She speaks none of them. The question that finally comes out is different altogether.

“What is the date?” That, she suspects, will become far more important. If she makes it out of this. Orianna doesn’t feel like herself, but worse, she doesn’t know what ‘herself’ is supposed to feel like. One thing at a time. When, where - Her chest tightens again. It’s a different emotion. Similar, sharp and squeezing, uncomfortable and nauseating. 

“Please.” Her voice does not waver.

There is nothing. No fear. Not in body or expression. It is intriguing. 

The energy around her, like the curling, twisting, writhing mass of voidlings seeking to feed. Unnatural. Antennae tilt forward, feeling the vibrations of it around her. A pull of other. Something not even of the void. 

It makes the small hairs along his carapace raise. Responding to the energy. The vibrations. Echoes.

We? Tilt, turn, tilt, turn the movements of his head almost jerky as he looks for the second part of we. His gaze lands only upon the orb every time. It then, must be the we. The knowledge, disappoints. The hunt has slipped away. Does it fear him? Does it know that he hunts it?

Date? Date. Time. Human constructs made for them to easier understand the world around them. Kha’Zix has little need for dates and time beyond day and night. Recollection however comes of a conversation he had overheard. 

Two humans, with weapons that glowed a bright green and voices tinted with terror. He had only listened because they spoke of the one he hunts. Now it has purpose beyond the initial. 

“997 AN.”

[unrestrained-evolution]

fatebreaking​:

Hah. Hah.  H ah. Ha h. Laughter, perhaps. The heavy panting of a monster, perhaps. Perhaps. She too has heard the howl. In her dreams, her memories, when she too was the monster. More of a monster. Less of a monster. The laugh isn’t real this time. She’s hearing it, remembering it as it tears out her insides. Wake up.

She takes a breath, steadying herself. Acrid smoke fills her mouth and she exhales, the way that old machinery kicks out fumes and dust and grime. The Ball clicks softly by her side. Click. Click. It helps place her in the here and now, the click-clacks and tick-tocks, right here. This is now, and not any other moment.

Go there. It’s dangerous. Orianna doesn’t stop as she considers the reason. How strange. Should she not step away from danger? Why is she being willed further into the fog, where the ominous, dreadful dangers of Zaun reside? Ah, but she is one of those. Yes, yes - it is not strange at all. She is just as much of a danger. A weapon. Her claws furl and unfurl.

“I see you.” Not Kha’Zix. She doesn’t know. She couldn’t know. What she sees is the twist, the way everything seems to threaten her non-existence and compliance.

She sees, as in to acknowledge, to acknowledge the danger, the threat, the looming violence. How will it end this time? Will it end? No, she cannot let it end. She mustn’t. I want to live. I will live. I will live. But she is walking closer to the danger. “I will not break. I will not be broken. Be silent, you are an obstruction.” But she does not see Kha’Zix. And her expression is calm, placid, frozen. Mechanical, perhaps.

The Ball spins angrily, circuiting her in lazy, frustrated laps.

The being approaches, but when the creature reveals themself to him they are not the one he wishes for. Muscles in his body tense as the creature says that they see him but when he looks towards their gaze it is- Unfocused. Locked somewhere far away. Words not meant for him? It is hard for him to tell. He does not know these creatures. Not as they know each other. 

Kha’Zix knows of them as a predator does. As one who has consumed of their flesh and learned of them. But not the who. Perhaps he should not have devoured that philosopher. That inventor. It was hard to keep the optimist down. A laugh almost, almost escapes him. The humor of his own mental joke catching him off guard. 

The orb. The orb, it catches his gaze. Circling around the creature as it does. The human. No words come from it. But the language of its actions tells something. 

It reminds him of when he was small. Before he came to this land. When there was only silence in the darkness of the void. He remembers witnessing the deconstructor. This thing. It reminds him of the Eye. Instinct tells him to flee, but this is not the one who watches and he is not as he once was. 

Kha’Zix allows the wrap of his cloaking to slip away. Flickering back into human vision with a chirring growl. This is not the one he hunts and no adaptation will be acquired. Instead he looks upon them both and seeks to learn, he stays ready. Prepared to leap into action. To consume, to survive. He will not be caught by surprise.

“Where is The howler?”

[fatebreaking]

/ @unrestrained-evolution //

Welcome to Zaun.

The voice echoes in her consciousness, amidst the sound of metal against metal and laughter which others might find uncomfortable. Welcome to Zaun. Whose voice is this that speaks to her? It is not hers. It is not theirs. It is not the usual voices.

Her eyes turn down to her hands, still and unflinching. No claws. Why did she expect claws? Orianna blinks slowly. Perhaps this will change if she blinks again. Claws. There is a laughter in the fog, as what was once wisps of magical blue and electric white fizzle out. It’s her laughter. It comes from her. Hahahaha. Mocking. She had not meant to laugh. There is nothing humorous here.

Welcome to Zaun. She had been watching the city above before. Carefully. It faded in and out, not unlike pastels and watercolors dripping and washing out. Again. Again. Again. Then something changed, and smoke began to fill her lungs. She should be coughing.

She takes a step forward, finding purchase on the steel and chrome crosswalks of the lower city. That thing is still whispering to her. Urging her. Reminding her. Slip, fall, crash, become what you were always meant to become. Laughter again. This time, her lips stay closed.

Another step forward. It’s clear now. The lower parts of Zaun are fully in view, but just two steps behind her is thin air. Had she not come from there? How strange. Her head tilts slightly as a faint sound meets her ears. Real this time, not imagined. Not from the Ball. She cannot place it. No one should be out here when the fog is this thick. She walks a little further into the Gray.

[unrestrained-evolution]

This place, there is a creature here. Powerful, large. He has watched it. Observed as it ripped and tore into it’s prey. It reminded him of another creature. The only one to injure him. 

Kha’Zix wonders if this creature will offer the same sort of challenge. If consuming it will make him stronger for that battle. But there is something- Off. The creature when he has observed it did not seem in control of itself. It tore through all, even one it was attempting to protect at the time.

A thick churring starts in the back of his throat. The creature is called ‘The Howler’. It does not seem intelligent at other times it does. It is- Conflicted with itself and he does not wish to consume something that would be unworthy. 

Antennae twitch, rotating towards the approaching vibration and sound. His cloak shimmers across his shell, invisible to the human eye as he stands unmoving. He waits, he watches. Will this be the hunt he desires? There is a weight behind the vibrations but they seem-

Like an echo.

Memory? No. Memories do not move.

His head tilts, eyes roving hungrily across the landscape of the thick fog. Scythe like forelimbs at the ready, Kha’Zix begins to move slow and steady towards the footsteps.

[unrestrained-evolution]

blademerc​:

“Are you gonna keep staring at him or are you actually going to spend the time bonding with each other?” Sivir speaks with the slightest hint of amusement in her voice. “Go do your… bug things. I’m sure you’ll find something you both like.” She then turns her attention to the smaller creature, giving it a little smile. “You’ll be good, won’t you? You’re a nice critter, Kha’Zix. Very cute.”

Be good? For what reason does he have to be good? “I am not cute.” The urge to crush it surges forth like a tide, right along with the urge to eviscerate Sivir for even thinking he and this small thing are alike. This tiny pathetic creature, for all that it has features like his own is nothing like him.  It is weak, easily killed. “Stop being speciesist!" The sound of his jaws snapping together can be heard even beneath the metal helmet hiding his features. Bug things! Bug things! He is not a bug!

[unrestrained-evolution]

Golden eyes stare at the tiny creature clinging to a leaf before him. Like him, it has great scythe like limbs pressed close to it’s body. Like him it has wings. Unlike him it is small. Green. With many legs and a long lower body. With a soft shell he could crush with the stomp of a foot. His head tilts towards the other side, antennae twitching and turning at every sound.

[unrestrained-evolution]

blademerc replied-

bug buddy!!

There’s a quick snap of chitin. “Don’t call me that!”

[unrestrained-evolution]

bug noises

[jest-a-puppeteer]

His wing's flutter as he lean forward, narrowed eyes locked on the strange human before him. This one will not further his evolution, he has eaten enough humans to know but still- His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth as his antennae twitch. "Why are you here?"

  Mid-munching on a chocolate bar he’d been gifted, Felix stood still as soon as he noticed the big ugly bug thing looking at him. Maybe if he didn’t move it wouldn’t see him right?   Ah. No. It definitely sees him. He leaned backwards as the creature leaned closer, taking a moment to look it over. It spoke and purple eyes darted towards the bug’s face again.

   “I was just going for a wander.. And eat some chocolate instead of having dinner because I keep getting told you shouldn’t have dessert before meals but I think that’s dumb. Want some?” He offered the chocolate bar out towards his new bug friend and waggled it.

[unrestrained-evolution]

Dessert? Kha’Zix’s head twitches and tilts, orienting one of his eyes to gaze upon the item placed before him. Once more his head twitches, looking at the item now with his other eye. Nothing about it changes. Long antennae tilt forward, touching a piece of the chocolate as he tries to identify what exactly it is. 

It isn’t meat. The scent of it is strange, but there is nothing poisonous about it. And so Kha’Zix lean’s forward, one wary golden eye locked onto the small creature before him. His lower jaw parts slightly, the click of chitin resounding not soon after as it clicks back closed. There is no reason for his mandibles with this food, so he simply bites down on a piece of the food and settles back on his heels. 

His jaw works, the two lower halves of his jaw minutely shifting independently as he chews. The taste of it is as interesting as the smell, and though it offers nothing towards furthering his evolution Kha’Zix decides upon his opinion about it quickly enough. “Chocolate is good.” 

[ira-sturm-archived]

"You! Can you conjure the rain?"

“So what if I can?  Would you like to see more?  I can assure you it will only be a moment...”

[unrestrained-evolution]

ira-sturm​:

“Offer me something more than just your wish, and I may entertain the effort.”  She would reply clicking her teeth together a few times, but not all around looking ready to fight at that very moment.

There’s a low churring from deep in his throat as he considers. Once he ate a man who knew the location of a treasure in the deep, and so he knows such a thing. But- “What things do you wish for?” It is better for him to understand what sort of ‘trade’ this creature wants. 

[ira-sturm-archived]

"You! Can you conjure the rain?"

“So what if I can?  Would you like to see more?  I can assure you it will only be a moment...”

[unrestrained-evolution]

He cranes his head upwards to confirm the skies are clear. “I wish to see it.” At any moment he’s prepared to cloak himself and fight back if needed. But he really just does want to see if this creature can create rain from nothing. 

[unrestrained-evolution]

like for an ask starter from bug