Snippet #2425380

Still using Nyx's voice, although it was now originating from himself, he gave a cold chuckle. Her assumptions about him were just the cutest little thing, like a small child sticking rocks and other things into it's mouth. He could tell she was trying to use the thinking part of her brain to figure out what was going on but she was much too slow, much too slow indeed. He could tell after she was done her little spiel about life, death and soul transfer nonsense he would need to catch her up to the point so he didn't have to sit her explaining things for the greater half of his day.

"Oh Nyx, how you wound me so with your assumptions." He said, her voice only ever so mild with sarcasm behind that statement. "I judge everyone but the sentences I pass no one but the great big I alone hear and I adjudicate no law nor order."

Without even the slightest sound or tell Babble's legs had disappeared in a blur, he was now hovering on nothing but air.
"I carry a lot of words. Words like stone, imbibe, conceal, art, leg, disestablishmentarianism, zen, phobia and so much more! Today I bring you a very special word! Can the viewers at home tell me what word that is?" He said, now addressing an imaginary audience. He stood there for longer than a pause could remain comfortable, almost as if he was actually expecting a reply. "Well?" He tapped his foot in impatience, waiting for whatever he was waiting for, real or not.

"Oh fine! Be that way then!" He gave a disgruntled sigh, looking down at his feet then back up to meet Nyx's eyes.
"Today's word of the day is caution. A- how should I put this... Ah yes! A word of caution per say." By this point he was beginning to float gently along in a relatively large circle around Nyx, giving her reasonable space between them for courtesies sake. "I don't know if you know that I know what you know but you know that I know what you know now that I told you, letting you know."

His smile was almost never disingenuous. While this situation itself would be something he would normally avoid the act of creating disorder within an ordered system was his favorite hobby. His smile had gone to more of a smirk as this was tying up his time when he could be other places doing more important things like chilling out and singing along to the golden sound.

"Your part of their little game now. You agreed to it the moment you accepted their supposedly generous offer. You better start to like killing because whether you like it or not that is all they will want of you. The pawns don't like you because you stand in their way of playing your role, The knights dislike you because the increasing number of people in your rank devalues the entire system with them included and the other bishops will hate you. They will hate you not because of who you are or what you have done but because their leader, the person who gave them everything they treasure, has favored you above the rest of them. He made an exception for you when it is written in their precious code that you should of been punished..." Babble was now back around in the center of her vision. He hovered just a bit closer, the air displacement below his feet could be felt billowing up around him.

"If you don't like killing, you will earn nothing where you stand in the little schemes they write, not even the privilege to choose your own destiny. I remember the last time someone said no to them." Babble glanced momentarily towards his hands, an unconscious action born from the tingling sensation thinking about them brought. "How long you do think you have until they force you to say no?" With those words now implanted into her head he drifted back to where he originally stood, gently settling onto the ground as his legs regained definition.

"I've almost used up my allotment of words for the day. Try not to talk about me too loud.
I do hate it when people talk too... Loud." He turned, about to walk away when he suddenly turned his head back,
now addressing Korogu. "You and I will meet again... Or maybe we won't."

With that said Babble shuffled off back towards the prison entrance, forgetting about the blueberry girl and her ripping shadows busy ripping noisy people into squishy pieces in one of the more noisy ways he could think of. With the noise of regular humans wailing in relative fear in the vicinity it bugged Babble enough that he missed a detail he would not of missed usually. In the past Babble had found that vibrating his hands fast enough allowed him to pierce hide and bone with his finger tips with surprising ease. Though his feet lacked the shape and finer control to be as effective as his long lost hands they were still rather effective at mincing up meat and bones given special circumstances such as accidentally shuffling over a freshly bisected human corpse.

In a visceral spray a dark crimson mist settled in a radius around Babble who was now standing in a puddle of pureed giblets that was once called a person. Someone would be lucky to find a whole inch of this half of the body intact. The entire lower half of Babble was now covered in blood with smatterings splashed up along the rest of him. Simply standing there he sighed a bit and frowned mildly.

Now I'm all wet and I smell like old copper. Not all that much fun indeed. He mentally complained about the incident and the condition it's left him in.