RE: The Primarch Keeps Breaking Things
06-26-2017, 01:59 AM
(This post was last modified: 06-26-2017, 11:20 AM by Tuesbirdy.)
You wipe stinging sweat from your eyes. How did a day of mindless babysitting devolve into this? You pray the Young Miss' wand wasn't valuable enough to warrant a hit man.
Glug, glug.
Water pumps from the broken fountain, over the bodies and across the ground. Girard's back is turned, the same drake-hide jacket from your honeymoon stretched across broad shoulders. Your insides knot. The air crackles with mana: Girard's, and the whining generator's underground.
You step forward. Splish. The water runs pink.
"Hm." Girard shakes his head at the mass of crystal and wires jutting from the ground. "Here's a problem. If I'd known I was landing on top of a generator, I would've been subtler 'bout my entrance."
Despite his wording, there's nothing playful about Girard's tone. Your throat constricts. He turns toward you while the generator spits iridescent sparks.
"I never was that great at holding back. I give it, what, half an hour before the generator blows?" His eyes are gold and sharp and much too cold. They lend his smile a chilling edge. "You look good, Lucian. Glad to see exile hasn't ruined you. How's babysitting for the 'royals'?"
He chuckles. You don't. You stand your ground as Girard approaches.
"Seems you haven't changed much, either." There's a faint tremor in your voice and the cores of your bones. You swallow hard, steeling yourself. "It's a shame we have to meet like this. Girard—"
He lifts a hand to silence you. "Let's make this quick an' painless. Wand, kid—where? I want us all outta here before this town ends up underground."
Shit. You should've let Aedan follow you, after all.
Cut to the street outside Maripaz' Diner. You're Chris now. The town's ordered an evacuation, and doe-Elana won't leave you alone to defy it.
You realized shortly after 'gallant ladies'-stag Bartholomew' vanished that he took your comm. Between that, the supposed 'magical terrorist attack', and doe-Elana yanking on your arm, you're feeling pretty snappish.
"Look, thanks for worrying, but I'm not going anywhere without Barth." You twist away from doe-Elana's grasp. "Just save yourself or whatever."
She looks hurt, then baffled. "A bomb just went off in town square! Do you wanna die?"
"I just don't wanna leave without him. He, uh, he's got my passport."
Her eyes narrow, and she leans in close. You remember that one racist rumour that Cervo can 'smell guilt'.
"What's your deal? I'm trying to save your life! You're way too calm about this, Chris."
You're this close to telling her to screw off, but you also know better than to draw more suspicion by acting defensive. Your sister's baton weighs on your pocket. You look her in the eye, and...
>_
Glug, glug.
Water pumps from the broken fountain, over the bodies and across the ground. Girard's back is turned, the same drake-hide jacket from your honeymoon stretched across broad shoulders. Your insides knot. The air crackles with mana: Girard's, and the whining generator's underground.
You step forward. Splish. The water runs pink.
"Hm." Girard shakes his head at the mass of crystal and wires jutting from the ground. "Here's a problem. If I'd known I was landing on top of a generator, I would've been subtler 'bout my entrance."
Despite his wording, there's nothing playful about Girard's tone. Your throat constricts. He turns toward you while the generator spits iridescent sparks.
"I never was that great at holding back. I give it, what, half an hour before the generator blows?" His eyes are gold and sharp and much too cold. They lend his smile a chilling edge. "You look good, Lucian. Glad to see exile hasn't ruined you. How's babysitting for the 'royals'?"
He chuckles. You don't. You stand your ground as Girard approaches.
"Seems you haven't changed much, either." There's a faint tremor in your voice and the cores of your bones. You swallow hard, steeling yourself. "It's a shame we have to meet like this. Girard—"
He lifts a hand to silence you. "Let's make this quick an' painless. Wand, kid—where? I want us all outta here before this town ends up underground."
Shit. You should've let Aedan follow you, after all.
* * * * *
Cut to the street outside Maripaz' Diner. You're Chris now. The town's ordered an evacuation, and doe-Elana won't leave you alone to defy it.
You realized shortly after 'gallant ladies'-stag Bartholomew' vanished that he took your comm. Between that, the supposed 'magical terrorist attack', and doe-Elana yanking on your arm, you're feeling pretty snappish.
"Look, thanks for worrying, but I'm not going anywhere without Barth." You twist away from doe-Elana's grasp. "Just save yourself or whatever."
She looks hurt, then baffled. "A bomb just went off in town square! Do you wanna die?"
"I just don't wanna leave without him. He, uh, he's got my passport."
Her eyes narrow, and she leans in close. You remember that one racist rumour that Cervo can 'smell guilt'.
"What's your deal? I'm trying to save your life! You're way too calm about this, Chris."
You're this close to telling her to screw off, but you also know better than to draw more suspicion by acting defensive. Your sister's baton weighs on your pocket. You look her in the eye, and...
>_