Boss Battle - Queen Queso: dirtbrew - 397 words

7. Draw or write about what your character’s powers would be if they were food themed.

 

Caspian exhaled a heavy sigh into the damaged teacup in his hands. His feet jittered almost nervously, following restricted paths that the eternal's crossed legs gave them.

 

But it wasn't nervousness - it was shame. He should've been more attentive. Less frustrated. Things he wasn't. What a surprise.

 

The eternal moved the porcelain cup to the side, and pulled it down from under the liquid. The tea stayed suspended in the air, hovering playfully as a translucent blob. He had gained at least some control over the pesky drink, but it was a bit late now. It wasn't much - nor would it help Gabriel at this point, anyway.

 

"I don't think that's the best way to drink," a voice suddenly boomed behind Caspian. The Athos let out a high-pitched screech, and scrambled forward on all fours. After a short moment of startled crawling, he finally turned around to assess the threat.

 

Back at him stared a pair of teal eyes, their gaze piercing - embedded into a face of starkly contrasting colors. The red-hided demon's flaming hair roared on top of his skull, the blaze licking the edges of his curved, dark horns. Shingen raised his brow, and crossed his arms on his chest.

 

Caspian cleared his throat, his gaze wandering anxiously anywhere else than the demon. The eternal sat back down and corrected his position awkwardly. It felt like an eternity as he pondered his next move, until he finally came up with something - was it good or bad, was a whole different thing.

 

The Athos pulled the spilled tea out of the soil it had absorbed into. He guided it carefully back into the cup as it slithered in the air, and moved his hands to both sides of the vessel. He held the cup up to Shingen.

"Tea?" Caspian inquired with a wide, sharp-toothed grin - none short of embarrassed. The demon's brow furrowed even deeper, as he examined the cup's contents. The liquid was quite far from ingestible at this point, being a steeped drink of grit and soil, rather than actual tea.

 

Shingen leaned back ever so slightly - it was a no.

 

"O-okay," Caspian stuttered, the ends of his struggle fading into just mumbles under his breath. He pulled the cup back, and turned away, raising his shoulders as though he tried to hide himself under them.

 

He should've just stayed in the ship today.