Razor was having such a peaceful sleep...with so many people around and a fire going, sure it was a bit noisy, but he felt safe enough to really let go and enjoy a snooze. He was even having dreams one would relate to rainbows and donuts...<br/><br/>But, of course, all of that was a lie. Razor didn't have many dreams that were remotely good. He had always found the dreamscape could always be worse than whatever you could experience in real life. Especially with how well his subconsciousness managed to put all of his memories into one long, disturbing series of events that plagued his mind to near insanity. The mental beatings and torture he would make as a child, his constant sight of darkness only filled with sights, smells, noises, and feels, his constant paranoia since the lost of his and Foran's band that he kept repressed, and many other things. Oh the repression he kept in real life that exploded everything into his dreams, it would make a devil cringe at the very mention.<br/><br/>If he ever had dreams about rainbows and donuts...the rainbows would probably be solid blood red and the donuts would probably be made of intestines. But hey, how could he possibly know that if he never even saw a color before?<br/><br/>But, that aside...<br/><br/>The noises around him managed to make him jump onto his feet, actually surprising a few pixies around him...and he could feel them...everywhere. The little buggers felt like magic in its purest essence...and it burned him. Snarling like a wild animal, he quickly said the magic words to strengthen his bones and began slashing wildly into the air with no regards of whom he hit. Let's just say, he had many bad experiences with pixies...and it seemed to set him off.<br/><br/>"Back you she-devils! You'll not have any of my strength!" One of his few experiences with Pixies happened when he discovered a terrifying truth. Thanks to his magic dependence, his bones were actually growing weaker at a quicker rate, relying on magic to keep up his weight and activity than solid bone. And if he were to run tired on magic, than his bones would be next to nil useful. And when pixies were added to the mix once or twice...he almost had to suffer through a few broken bones that he sort of needed to do the things he needed to do.<br/><br/>And to say that Razor looked like a bat out of hell would be an understatement. To say he looked like a cat running around in a rocking chair store would be an understatement. Truly, there were no words to describe the rage he was in as he tried to commit genocide on the little menaces that fluttered about him...though it was hard to do since he had to go by feeling and hearing them. They smelled too much like the woods around them for that, but he could feel the magic pouring out of them, and hearing their voices and flutters. He may have managed to clip a few, but others were capable of staying away from his flailing and snarling.<br/><br/>Luckily for everyone else, he knew that launching his spines were next to not effective at all against pixies with his blind state. So, even in his blind rage, no pun intended, he didn't fire any of his paralyzing poisonous spikes into random directions hoping to hit the little buggers.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>