Kaisel
The desert bag seems a fair consideration, the last thing he remembers before remembering became hazy. He considers what that means for a moment before the much more pressing testing of Remi's theory occurs, and the dragon shape to all of it.
As he abandons the cliff edge for the wide expanse of the sky, he does so with a certainty that if this is a dream, then he should not be able to die, and that flying should come to him. Of course, he has fallen in dreams before, jolting awake, and he has died in them too, also jolting awake, as if his consciousness cannot bare to reshape that truth or face its reality, so snaps him away from the dream's attempts at converting chaos into order. Then again, perhaps he ought to have asked the ex-Lullaby if dream magic works in different ways, especially the sort that comes spilling out of bags instead of Ludo's rags.
This becomes a more urgent thought as Remi catches up to him, not so alarmed as he is helpful, and one of Kaisel's slitted eyes rolls to glance sidelong at the Bastion as they both plummet. He realizes he's no idea where they're racing to, and soon enough, the competition is lost to the sheer joy of flight. That, and its uncertainties.
Remi's calm is comforting, but still, as clouds whip by in a white that extends all around them, disorienting and endless in a weightless echo of the sea, Kaisel needs to know. Are we safe? He does as Remi suggests however, head tilting up, wings partway extending out, gradually catching the drag of air along their leather bellies. His tail rudders behind him, legs tucked tight to his body, and slowly he levels out, becoming less of an arrow and more of a feather. The wind still cuts past them, and some of the clouds break apart, opening up the blue of the sky and the vastness of it all. He tests the cup of his wings and subsequent tilt and roll of his body with them, trialing a corkscrew not unlike the ones Charlie loves to throw at him. He can shortly see why, because yes, being the one in control, feeling the wind lift him, not bearing down with a vice grip, it's all much better than sitting astride his friend. Dygra has certainly earned a score in her favor after this.
A roar rumbles free, light and long, a dragon's delight. Kaisel alternates between tucking his wings and gaining speed, to flaring them out and hauling back up, wheeling and tilting and daring a manuever beside Remi, rolling just underneath him and catching the air to pop back up on the other side. Despite the fun, the reality of what they're caught in has been working itself out in Kaisel's mind, better done with the flight to focus directly on while his thoughts spin out in the background. If it is the bag. If this is like the dream magic Ludo gave you. Then, is the creature we fought, Ludo's?
As he abandons the cliff edge for the wide expanse of the sky, he does so with a certainty that if this is a dream, then he should not be able to die, and that flying should come to him. Of course, he has fallen in dreams before, jolting awake, and he has died in them too, also jolting awake, as if his consciousness cannot bare to reshape that truth or face its reality, so snaps him away from the dream's attempts at converting chaos into order. Then again, perhaps he ought to have asked the ex-Lullaby if dream magic works in different ways, especially the sort that comes spilling out of bags instead of Ludo's rags.
This becomes a more urgent thought as Remi catches up to him, not so alarmed as he is helpful, and one of Kaisel's slitted eyes rolls to glance sidelong at the Bastion as they both plummet. He realizes he's no idea where they're racing to, and soon enough, the competition is lost to the sheer joy of flight. That, and its uncertainties.
Remi's calm is comforting, but still, as clouds whip by in a white that extends all around them, disorienting and endless in a weightless echo of the sea, Kaisel needs to know. Are we safe? He does as Remi suggests however, head tilting up, wings partway extending out, gradually catching the drag of air along their leather bellies. His tail rudders behind him, legs tucked tight to his body, and slowly he levels out, becoming less of an arrow and more of a feather. The wind still cuts past them, and some of the clouds break apart, opening up the blue of the sky and the vastness of it all. He tests the cup of his wings and subsequent tilt and roll of his body with them, trialing a corkscrew not unlike the ones Charlie loves to throw at him. He can shortly see why, because yes, being the one in control, feeling the wind lift him, not bearing down with a vice grip, it's all much better than sitting astride his friend. Dygra has certainly earned a score in her favor after this.
A roar rumbles free, light and long, a dragon's delight. Kaisel alternates between tucking his wings and gaining speed, to flaring them out and hauling back up, wheeling and tilting and daring a manuever beside Remi, rolling just underneath him and catching the air to pop back up on the other side. Despite the fun, the reality of what they're caught in has been working itself out in Kaisel's mind, better done with the flight to focus directly on while his thoughts spin out in the background. If it is the bag. If this is like the dream magic Ludo gave you. Then, is the creature we fought, Ludo's?
And when the day broke, buried in violence
Somethin' made my mind up
I could do this with my eyes closed
Somethin' made my mind up
I could do this with my eyes closed
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
