"I'd think it would," the Scarecrow answered honestly, not knowing he'd accidentally given Skulduggery his ring that led to the mines north of the Institute rather than the one linked to the hallway. As much as he liked to think he could tell them apart, all three rings in his possession did look alike, save for the broken stones.
"All I did was set it against the wall, take my roommate's arm, and hit it with my flashlight." He mimed the motion- nothing too precise given his wobbly state, but close enough. "Like that." Despite how sturdy the gems looked when whole, it didn't take much to shatter them- or at least the Scarecrow didn't think it took much. He wasn't one to judge something on appearances anymore, having met both lovely witches and a lion who was anything but the pinnacle of bravery in spite of his monstrous roar.
He was glad the rings worked at all, honestly. It had been handy with Depth Charge to make a quick escape from whatever his roommate had been seeing that night, whatever it was that the Scarecrow hadn't been able to see. He'd said it was his shadow suddenly come to life- Scarecrow was never going to know for sure, now.
He sighed again sadly, his brave smile fading more with every one that passed his lips, ebbing away with his breath. This was for the good of everyone else, he reminded himself. He was doing no good turning into a monster and hurting his friends, especially when he wasn't sure there was a way to stop the transformation. All he knew about what was coming he'd learned at Landel's, having never thought on such things in Oz unless a lighted match was around. Abe and Skulduggery had given him all his knowledge on the subject of death: that it would hurt, that he couldn't be sure of what would happen afterwards, and that he wasn't coming back.
He felt as though bugs were crawling on his insides, every one burrowing into him as they worked their way toward his throat; he swallowed them down and wandered back to his side of the room, worry written across his face as he took a seat on the bed to rest his increasingly unsteady legs. Night was coming very soon, and he couldn't help but be afraid of the unknown.
And still, he was curious as to what it was like after death. Was there something to be found there? Or was it the end as it would be if he was burned away to nothing, as he'd imagined?
The Scarecrow laced his fingers together, wringing them as much as he could, a habit he'd had back when they were nothing more than ill-fitting gloves. "I know it hasn't been all that long since we got roomed together, and I know these circumstances haven't been the best for getting to know someone, but I want to thank you for helping me with whatever happens tonight. My old roommate— well, it was sometimes hard to convince him of anything. He could be so stubborn, and I know he just wanted me to stay out of harm's way, but—"
The smile that crossed his face was genuine that time, bittersweet. "You know, I'm not sure I can find the words for it, now that I try to think about it. So I suppose I should just stick with a simple thanks, shouldn't I?"
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"All I did was set it against the wall, take my roommate's arm, and hit it with my flashlight." He mimed the motion- nothing too precise given his wobbly state, but close enough. "Like that." Despite how sturdy the gems looked when whole, it didn't take much to shatter them- or at least the Scarecrow didn't think it took much. He wasn't one to judge something on appearances anymore, having met both lovely witches and a lion who was anything but the pinnacle of bravery in spite of his monstrous roar.
He was glad the rings worked at all, honestly. It had been handy with Depth Charge to make a quick escape from whatever his roommate had been seeing that night, whatever it was that the Scarecrow hadn't been able to see. He'd said it was his shadow suddenly come to life- Scarecrow was never going to know for sure, now.
He sighed again sadly, his brave smile fading more with every one that passed his lips, ebbing away with his breath. This was for the good of everyone else, he reminded himself. He was doing no good turning into a monster and hurting his friends, especially when he wasn't sure there was a way to stop the transformation. All he knew about what was coming he'd learned at Landel's, having never thought on such things in Oz unless a lighted match was around. Abe and Skulduggery had given him all his knowledge on the subject of death: that it would hurt, that he couldn't be sure of what would happen afterwards, and that he wasn't coming back.
He felt as though bugs were crawling on his insides, every one burrowing into him as they worked their way toward his throat; he swallowed them down and wandered back to his side of the room, worry written across his face as he took a seat on the bed to rest his increasingly unsteady legs. Night was coming very soon, and he couldn't help but be afraid of the unknown.
And still, he was curious as to what it was like after death. Was there something to be found there? Or was it the end as it would be if he was burned away to nothing, as he'd imagined?
The Scarecrow laced his fingers together, wringing them as much as he could, a habit he'd had back when they were nothing more than ill-fitting gloves. "I know it hasn't been all that long since we got roomed together, and I know these circumstances haven't been the best for getting to know someone, but I want to thank you for helping me with whatever happens tonight. My old roommate— well, it was sometimes hard to convince him of anything. He could be so stubborn, and I know he just wanted me to stay out of harm's way, but—"
The smile that crossed his face was genuine that time, bittersweet. "You know, I'm not sure I can find the words for it, now that I try to think about it. So I suppose I should just stick with a simple thanks, shouldn't I?"