Zipity do da, zippity day, my oh my, what a horrible day.
He skipped from rock to rock, pausing every now and again to regain his balance as some of them wobbled underneath him. This place is fun.
He eyed another rock, about four foot down the road, it looked sturdy enough. He leaped forwards, misjudged his landing and almost fell, actually he did but thankfully, instead of falling and breaking his hip on the rock, he managed to circle his wrist and his staff appeared
with a whoof of black smoke. The end of it broke into the ground and just allowed him to stop himself as he gripped it with both hands and his feet scrambled for support. Phew, it would have looked bad if I'd shown up limping.
He stood up again and started hopping from rock to rock, using his staff to help balance himself and in some cases, to cheat by using it as a third leg.
After a mile or two of this, he'd gotten bored of it and was just happily walking down, leaning on the staff lightly for support and twirling it round his fingers once or twice a minute. What a city this must have been.
A dark tendril slipped out from his sleeve and darted into a nearby shop, some crashes came from inside it and then it snapped back after him, flicking a pot of Nescafe into his hand. Hmm...
He said as he studied the ingredients. Interesting blend, I wonder if it's still usable.
He tried to open the pot and paused as he felt it start to break. Damn, this needs a gentle touch.
The pot was covered in black and then was peeled away again, the ancient coffee grains gathered and spilled over his hand. He took a pinch of it and ground it between his fingers, and then greedily crammed the handful into his mouth. Eurgh, a bit too old I think, must have been some life growing in it. Bah, makes me thirsty, I'll just have some of my own stuff.
Another tendril slid out from underneath his jacket, wrapped around the handle of his thermos, another one came out and unscrewed the top and then was held still as the other poured some of his own coffee into it, black of course. The cup was brought into the darkness under his hat, a sipping noise was heard followed by an "ahhh" of satisfaction and then the thermos itself was brought into the shadows. The end of it slowly rose as it quickly emptied itself down his gullet and then was flicked away to the right through a store window, the cup going after it. Oooohh, that's good.
A happy haze came over him as he turned a corner and practically glided towards the ruins of a desecrated mansion. Zipity do dah...
He began to hum again as a dark haze crept out from his clothes to protect him from the sun's light that burst through the clouds. A few minutes later the cloud of shadow had expanded greatly to a 6 metre radius, just showing his dark silhouette inside it. Then as he entered the house it was sucked in after him leaving no trace in the bright day of what had just passed underneath it.
About ten minutes later he stumbled out of a pitch black doorframe into the dining hall and whistled as he looked up at the huge chandelier. Impressive stuff.
He muttered as he walked over to the closest chair. Looks like this groups actually got something going on.
He flicked a wrist into the air and a black tentacle flew out and to a small cabinet behind him. It unflicked the catch, spiked into six ends and grabbed some of the dusty bottles in it. Once they returned, three of them started juggling the bottles in the air as the other three ends stretched out back to the cabinet and grabbed a few glasses. Right, lets see what we can make here.
The bottles were brought to his face one at a time, their lids popped off and a small amount of them drunk before their stoppers were returned and they rejoined their juggled fellows. Wow, good stuff here, good range of ages too.
From his sleeves dozens of tentacles came out, some of their ends forming the shapes of spoons, others holding small coloured vials, one of two forming the shapes of jars and then their was a flurry of movement and bright liquid colours as he got to work. Soon the movement died as the tentacles began to slip back up his sleeves, their missions completed and their were six rainbow-coloured bottles arranged from smallest to largest. The smallest of them the brightest and the largest, the dullest. He took the smallest and placed it inside his own robes, then took the largest and popped the stopper off. Let's see how good this is then.
He poured it into a glass til it was half-full and then took a tentative drink. Mmmmooohh, that's not bad.
The darkness under his hat seemed to gain some colour and shifted through the spectrum. Not bad at all. Can I have some?
Atrus jerked and looked around wildly, spilling some of the drink over himself. Who's there? Who said that. I'm over here.
The quiet little voice said at the other end of the table. Atrus peered down and noticed something, a mass of small spikey black hair could be seen down there. It shifted slightly and a pair of wide, scared eyes appeared and looked back at Atrus. ...So who are you then little boy?
He asked carefully, a hand reaching into his robes and gripping his knife. My name is...My name's...I'm Ignis.
The eyes disappeared back under the table and Atrus stared at the shivering dirty black hair.Right...Probably shouldn't give this to kids but I doubt you're just a kid, right?
The child just continued shaking instead of responding and after a few moments, Atrus sighed and filled up another glass. Right, here you go then.
A black tendril carried the glass over and left it at the edge in front of Ignis. After another few seconds he reached up and lifted up the glass, some slurping was heard underneath the table and then Ignis peeped back over the table and smiled gratefully at him. Thank you Sir.
The glass began to bubble in his hand as it heated up, giving off some multi-coloured steam. You're welcome I suppose.
Atrus watched as the child drank the hot liquid in small gulps and then put his feet up on the table. Just keep it down while I get myself some shut-eye, right? Yes sir.