Draven manages to align the crystals with the lyrics to a power ballad, bringing them back to life in a way that he wishes he could do for his lost love.
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With someone egging him on to attack the one he's already shooting, Draven's choice is easy. He takes Aim against blue once again before snapping off a pair of shots.
This time, one of the tumbling pieces of shield does catch Draven, though it is a glancing blow. He recovers just in time to see the rickety bots coming at him. "You look worse than I feel," he comments, pulling out his pistol on the move and taking Aim at the blue one before firing.
With unnatural flexibility, Draven manages to dodge out of the way of all the flying debris, coming out as unscathed as he was before the fall of the shields. He keeps up his twisting and turning dance to continue avoiding the damage.
"Agreed. Always better to avoid trouble or be the one starting it if you can't avoid it," Draven replies as he applies the patch.
Draven is starting to catch the drift of things and that drift is toward the generally unexplainable and esoteric, both things he's quite familiar with. He watches Glerak and its fellow entities carefully as they interact with the rest of the group.
"I'll live," Draven says, then smiles wryly before barking a single laugh. "Or not, but I could use some patching up." He touches his chest with two fingers when the stone people address them. "Draven," he says, simply. He really doesn't know anything else to say so he says nothing else.
Draven is awed by the display of power and lethality from the creature and he finds himself desperately clutching at his normally tenuous desire to live. It makes him less accurate but drives him to a wild frenzy.
Draven watches the flickering of reality with wonder and surprise but when the gorilla turtle appears in a fury, he simply sighs and draws his shooting star knife, takes Aim as he moves towards the creature and stabs it.
Draven continues to kneel beside the drained stone for a while, feeling a certain kinship with something that has become faded and shrunken by having the life removed from it. When he finally looks around, he spots the strange flora in the distance and rises jerkily. He stumbles in fits and starts towards it like a marionette on tangled strings before collapsing to his knees again near them. He says only one word - "Sara" before being lost in memories, pleasant ones based on his smile and reaching for them.
Now that he knows at least a little about how the rock formations are supposed to work, he heads to the one that doesn't seem to be working. He kneels down to examine it, leaning this way and that and singing the song again in hopes of getting it to wake back up.
Hey guys. I'm going to be out of town starting tonight and coming back Monday so I likely won't post again until Tuesday.
Draven frowns as the humming of the crystals does not match what he's expecting and just leave him confused. He starts to sing quietly. "Time to take her home her dizzy head is conscience laden
Draven is drawn to the humming crystal, his eyes somewhat vacant, his gait surprisingly clumsy given how fluidly he usually moves. He tilts his head, listening to the humming before joining in.
Draven looks around slowly as they enter the jungle, his eyes even more haunted than usual. His jaw works as though he is trying to pop his ears as he adjusts to the disconcerting, near absolute silence. He pays no mind to the enormous bubble over them which could burst and rain down inescapable destruction at any moment. After all, what's one more death? With relief he moves towards the Weydanites, ready to do their task.
Draven does not reply, nor raise his hand. Instead, he leans back in his chair once more, lacing his fingers together, again. There does, however, seem to be a faint hint of a smile on his black lips, however.
"It seems that the best of us die first," Draven replies to Hope's story. "While those left must suffer through existence without them." He leans forward at Zee's question. "I teach them the error of their ways," he replies to Zee's question, leaning forward and pulling out a shooting starknife with one hand and a mean looking revolver with the other.
"You can call me Draven. And yes, 'feeding on some vibes' is probably the best description of what I am," he says with a wry smile. It is fleeting, however and his face returns to its steady state of flat emotion. "And you are?" he asks the other person in the room.
A dark haired, dark eyed man glides in on feet as silent as a crow's wings. His skin is incredibly, unnaturally pale, so much so that, in places, you can see the veins beneath. But it is not the pale blue of blood flowing that you can see, rather something black. Most prominently his lips which are all black and a pair of streaks like tear stains running from his eyes down his cheeks. He quietly nods to the pair as they speak, not interjecting himself into their conversation but rather taking a seat, resting his elbows on the arm of the chair and intertwining his fingers together in front of him. |