And suddenly, regret was palpable in the air.
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The red head noticed the male walking towards him. Something in him raised it's hackles, and his blue eyes narrowed. Something was - ah, so that's what that was. He could almost taste the lingering touches of divinity in the air, and it raced across his skin like a poison. But he knew better then to show such things affected him. A stony, impassive facade kept the disgust he felt hidden. Of course, that was his attempt to be a decent human being, to actually work with the poor sap that ended up in his neck of the woods. After all, even if he hated people, he could at least tolerate them for whatever he had to do, right?
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Well, let's just say that effort was wasted faster then Sirius' seriousness.
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''Wonderful.'' he said. His tone was deadpan, unimpressed. His hand twitched, the irrational impulse of setting this guy on fire racing through his veins. Although, some admiration was given - after all, this boy seemed to take his class seriously just as he - however it would not be enough to ensure camaraderie. ''Well, zealot'' he started, hissing the word venomously ''what I'm doing is rather simple. I want a dinosaur egg from the event. However any paltry egg does not suit. And as such, finding one in one of the hardest areas of the game is much more suitable.'' he said. His tone kept shifting, showing annoyance and irritation at the boy.
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Because that's what he was, just a boy.
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''Can you and your deity handle that much?'' he asked snidely. After all, he had forsaken all gods and goddesses in his quest for magic. He didn't have a high opinion of the 'powers above' - much less then what he thinks of humans and he wants to see humanity burn bar a few exceptions. His fingers twitch again, the temptation of setting the boy aflame wandering once more in his mind. But he would hold back on that impulse, for now. For the boy could prove useful... couldn't he? His gaze kept on the boy, waiting for his answer.
[break][break]
Then, they would begin.

[attr="class","til"]
raynauld ♥

He was going to kill this boy sometime.
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Magicman felt no guilt at this thought, even as his fingers twitch, wanting to oh so desperately lash out. But he was smarter then this, more mature then this, and so he simply keeps his face impassive. ''At least I have honour.'' he hissed, remembering something from not long ago. Zealots, the lot of them, had no sense of what their deities preached. It was almost laughable that he, the heretic, knew more about their gods then they. But then again, said beings were hypocrites at base - preach acceptance, love or anything good, go apeshit when people aren't falling over themselves fawning - and that was why he ended up forsaking them in his quest for magic.
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The parallels of that thought-line in his real life was almost too close to taste.
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But the red haired male followed behind the other easily. ''I have no intention of attacking your back like a coward, so no need to be tense.'' he ended up saying. Honestly, his hatred of humans, and more particularly the religious types, did not mean he couldn't be cordial or even polite. ''I may be a heretic in the eyes of your deity, but as long as you do not cross me, I have no motive to strike. Even if people disgust me.'' he said, the last part almost to himself. His eyes peer into the darkness, the torch of the boy their only source of light before long.
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And something in him felt as if he'd come home, but he still had to find an egg and try to avoid this zealot's sudden crusade on his person when they do find one.

[attr="class","til"]
raynauld ♥

Magicman made a vow to himself, to one day burn this zealot at the stake.
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Very few things annoyed the red head more so then people being idiots. People having arrogance is one of those. He understands Pride - he has pride in his occult knowledge, in what he forms as magic, and his moral code despite his nihilistic tendencies - but he does not understand those that think and act as if they're above everything. And this boy - because that's what he was, a mere boy - was rubbing him the wrong way right in that spot. It was the naive folly of youth, where things are black and white, where arrogance is embedded in all manner of things by sheer accident.
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He remembers quite clearly why he hates teenagers at this point.
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After the clear dismissal - look, he had tried to be open and polite, but this boy didn't understand the value of manners it seems - the male could only keep his mouth shut. Their steps were echoing in the empty tunnels, the walls closing in on them as the tunnels got alternatively tighter and bigger. The black ink before them was barely pushed back by the torch, shadows lingering in corners ready to devour them at a moment's notice if they faltered. Such things were familiar to him - he was a real life occultist after all - and in a way it felt much like home. Clicking his tongue in annoyance, he remembers that he can't stay here long.
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Rather, that he came here for something very specific.
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His eyes caught it. ''Stop.'' he said, his tone nearly commanding. If the boy stopped, all the better. But the elder male's fingers were running against the dirt packed walls. Brushing away some of it with his fingers, he finds a stone indentation. He had no hesitation pressing into it, a click sounding from where he was. A stone door was sliding open, the sound of stone grinding on itself and dirt rather loud. But he held no hesitation, because after it was open, he stepped into the area, his fingers coming alight with flames. After all, the boy with the torch was behind him now.
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''We're near.'' he muttered, the tunnel now of stone rather then dirt.

[attr="class","til"]
raynauld ♥

He was a mere boy, and that was obvious.
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The passage itself was more then old, more then ancient. It was almost prehistoric, in it's own fashion. Cracked stones, lichen that didn't glow, and finally, the taste of stale air. All of these things bespoke of a mystery, and mysteries were his second love. Right behind magic of course. He had come across little hints, little secrets that didn't seem to mean anything at first. And if anything, he had probably been guessing more then knowing that there was something more there. But he was rather persistent if he says so himself, and so this is where he was now.
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''Almost right, as foul as such an idea is.'' he said. Oh, he agreed with the boy that using children like that was bad. ''The group that made their home here was studying them initially. And then, they began a selective breeding program. Some were more successful then others - and on those, they began experiments. In the end, they began grafting magic onto the creatures here. There is almost no hint of what the creatures were. However, there is one legend. That any whom dare walk the besmirched halls, they would find themselves devoured by rows of teeth.'' he continued. It was the most he had spoken in this game at once, and that was an achievement of it's own.
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He didn't understand why he wanted to elucidate, but he did. ''Yet, subverting the laws of life were not enough for them, nor was it to pass into legend. Beyond grafting magic, they began something more, something twisted. I'm looking for the remnants of that experiment, and rescuing some of the eggs too. They should be in stasis, the ones that are lucky. The ones that aren't will be dead.'' he finished. His fingers tingled - the ones not holding small flames - and he knew that magic was near. His eyes flashed, knowing they were both near the end.
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The tunnel broke into a large cavern. Eggs of all size huddled against the wall and lined on it too. There was a platform, and he could see the edge of a deep pit from here. But the path was clear, even though there was clearly old stains of blood. The scent of rot was surprisingly absent, but perhaps it had to do with the magic in this room. It ghosted over his skin, almost tickling him if he was ticklish. His steps no longer echoed, but faded into the great dark cavern. But he still walked forward, seeing as the path became narrow, as they were on a land bridge over the pit.
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''I'm seeking the shards of that experiment to erase it. For no one, god nor mortal, should play with life at whim.'' he said. There was perhaps a spark of heated faith in that tone, but the male was considered heretic by the gods. And that suited him just fine, for he was not beholden to them, but magic itself. Even though the boy was annoying, like any other filthy human, he found himself wanting to show him something other then the narrow view that the child allowed himself of the world. But that desire was pushed aside, as he finally made it to an island in the middle of the endless seeming pit.
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'Bingo.' he thought, even as his gaze landed on the nest filled with eggs.
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LgTNunop

[attr="class","til"]
raynauld ♥