InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "ominous comment is ominous"

magneton (ex_magneton922) wrote in idrisacademy,
@ 2010-01-25 01:01:00

Entry tags:

!incomplete, mathew compton, ziti belasco

Who: Cid and Mac
What: The prankster becomes the one pranked.
When: Sunday, 24th, late morning
Where: Mac's Room
Rating: PG-13, Language.

Cid was feeling the need to cause someone a significant amount of anguish and annoyance. That was what he really did best. It was, he decided, time to use that quart of paint that he had stuffed in his closet. But who did he want to paint red? The list was long, but a few names jumped out of him. That one overly old fifth year therian seemed like a good target. Cid was sick of seeing his face around, but he could not avoid it. The man was in his house, in his year and therefore around him twenty four to seven.

Covering his face with paint seemed to be a good way to not see it for some time. Cid knew that the affect of the paint would linger, at least in his mind. He would not be able to look at Mac's face without picturing him covered in paint. He relished the thought.

He easily lugged the pint of paint over to Mac's room. With a quick tweak of his mage powers, he opened the door. There was no way that he had fine enough control to not destroy the lock, not yet at least, but he did not care if Mac and his roommate would be able to lock their door or not. It only mattered that he was in. The door opened inward, same as every dorm-room. Cid looked around, seeing no one in the room, and set to work. Dragging a chair over to the door, he used that as a stepping stool to reach the top of the door. With a deft precision that comes from long practice, Cid began setting up the prank. He used metal instead of twin, part of his signature to his pranks, but he was only beginning to balance the paint quart when he heard a noise behind him.

There should not be anyone in the room beside him.

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ex_magneton922
2010-02-02 01:12 am UTC (link)

Cid stepped back in surprise, forgetting that he was precariously balanced on the chair. As a result his balance fell out beneath him as his foot sought solid ground but found only air. The quart of paint tumbled after him, spewing color in a lazy arch as it went. He landed flat on his back, the air blown out of him even before the, now half empty, jug of paint landed on his stomach. He did not even have enough breath to groan in pain and protestation.

The paint container, plastic not metal, emptied itself in gurgles and spurts all over his chest and flowed to the floor in a wet, sloppy mess. The cool liquid pooled in his hollow of his throat, sending shivers down his spine and making his skin prickle and creep. Cid shoved the jug off of him, but not before most of the paint ended up on him.

He looked like bloody murder, seeing as the paint was red and viscous as blood. Brushing his hair away from where it was sticking to his face, leaving vivid red streaks in his blue-black hair, he finally was able to see what had caused this accident in the first place. Barely a hands breadth away was the blunt snout of a very large reptile.

Cid had not gathered enough air to scream, but he sure wanted to. Instead, his mouth fell open in a mockery of one. He was too frozen to even consider moving away, although it was probably the wisest course of action.

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