[The absurdity is almost enough to stun Joshua into silence, but that book was very important.]
[And now it's been stolen, and at least one page eaten.]
No!
[It's kind of pathetic, really, that all he can bring himself to do is yell out an impotent cry. Could he fly after this malevolent trickster? Maybe. He wouldn't even have to lift a wing.]
[But to prime here is a reckless action that would ruin more than a few evenings.]
[Part of him--the angry part--wants to hurl a few fireballs up there instead, if for no other reason than catharsis. Catharsis at the cost of someone else's property, most likely, and he's sure that it would only bring more joy to his tormenter.]
[It's all a game to that bastard, isn't it? And Joshua's realized all too late that the only way to win is not to play.]
[So, with grit teeth and a final, bitter glare, Joshua heatedly turns around and starts to salvage the rest of the books. He's careful as he can be with them, given their condition, but there's a certain aggression with his movements as he shoves them into his bag that surprises even himself.]
[It's then that he finally catches the sound of banging. The fact that its rhythm matches that tantalizing tap from moments ago doesn't go unnoticed.]
Who's there?
[Again, way more aggro than he intended, but if who or whatever this is has some sort of relation with the fiend-ler on the roof, then he's not going to waste what precious energy he has left on decorum.]
no subject
[The absurdity is almost enough to stun Joshua into silence, but that book was very important.]
[And now it's been stolen, and at least one page eaten.]
No!
[It's kind of pathetic, really, that all he can bring himself to do is yell out an impotent cry. Could he fly after this malevolent trickster? Maybe. He wouldn't even have to lift a wing.]
[But to prime here is a reckless action that would ruin more than a few evenings.]
[Part of him--the angry part--wants to hurl a few fireballs up there instead, if for no other reason than catharsis. Catharsis at the cost of someone else's property, most likely, and he's sure that it would only bring more joy to his tormenter.]
[It's all a game to that bastard, isn't it? And Joshua's realized all too late that the only way to win is not to play.]
[So, with grit teeth and a final, bitter glare, Joshua heatedly turns around and starts to salvage the rest of the books. He's careful as he can be with them, given their condition, but there's a certain aggression with his movements as he shoves them into his bag that surprises even himself.]
[It's then that he finally catches the sound of banging. The fact that its rhythm matches that tantalizing tap from moments ago doesn't go unnoticed.]
Who's there?
[Again, way more aggro than he intended, but if who or whatever this is has some sort of relation with the fiend-ler on the roof, then he's not going to waste what precious energy he has left on decorum.]