Val (make_it_new) wrote in bearandbarnacle, @ 2009-11-19 15:00:00 |
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Entry tags: | event, midas touch, valpost |
Val: Event: Midas Touch
A survivor type, that's what Val is, from the moment he hid beneath the wing of a dead uncle to escape the slaughter of his family to the moment a milennium later when he lost his world. He told Zelas-sama once, and Dolphin-sama multiple times, that that was why Gaav chose him.
“What on earth attracted my brother to you?” Zelas-sama asked brusquely, letting Val go so he overbalanced and fell on one hand in the pelts strewed at her feet.
“He should get fresh blood and let me keep you as a toy. What does he want to keep you for after all these years?” Dolphin-sama remarked absently as Val courteously untangled the yarn behind her knitting needles.
On both occasions (and all the times Dolphin asked again because she'd forgotten), Val laughed that musical, rather infectious chuckle of his and explained that after he'd survived two hundred years of every Golden Dragon in the world trying to kill him, he was ideally suited to his master's unique purposes.
Gaav, however, would probably say that it's deeper than that, that something in Val's nature knew his master before they ever laid eyes on one another. And perhaps Val's meteoric fall after Gaav died and the massive mushroom cloud of destruction it unleashed prove him right. Val came from the Mother Gaav's, and returned to her Gaav's, and came back from her Gaav's again.
So he's startled by this latest strange happening, but not actually surprised by the proof of his nature.
When he gets an ice cube out of the freezer to it vaporizes in a flaring instant of flame. When he touches the cold metal of the sink tap, it goes up too, and when he stares at his fingers for a moment and leans precariously to elbow the window pane, it too turns to fire.
By the time Jack and Zel get out of bed, Val has bundled into his clothes as best he can, considering the wings and the fact that his boots were on the porch and did not survive the touch of his feet. He is outside doing temperature tests. The ground, no. A rock, yes. A tree, no. The water in the outdoor bath, yes – and spectacularly so.
Everything cold he touches turns to fire. It's brilliant.
He goes back inside, opens the Plague's cage with a shirt wrapped around his hand, and lifts out the warm body of the rat. “We,” he informs the Plague cheerfully as he shovels him into his walking harness, “are going to have some fun.”