|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 9:37 am
Quote: Walking anywhere at night can be risky in Destiny City, but tonight it’s not being attacked by some punk in a strange outfit. The squeaking above you is a dead giveaway that you’re not going to have a good night. Perhaps you remember the flock of bats that swarmed down on Destiny City last year; if you’re lucky, this is your first time being attacked by one. Thankfully it seems like a lone bat has made its way out of whatever cave they’ve moved from, but this thing is giant. It has a six foot wingspan. Does the bat fly away without harassing you? Do you fight it? If it scratches you, you walk away fine, but if it bites you then you can expect a rough time. Being bitten by these bats leaves two small marks that will itch for a few hours. Then, exhaustion and fatigue sets in and you become extremely sensitive to external stimulus; skin feels like it becomes overheated in sunlight, bright lights are painful to the eyes, and smells and sounds can seem overwhelming. The victim will feel constantly cold and hungry, no matter how much they eat or drink. They may also be prone to agitation and bouts of violence. These afflictions may last only a few hours or a few days and then suddenly disappear.
The cooling trend granted a second insight into the soft-spoken powered world. Those looking the part of demimonde appeared less frequently, while the most devoted of their ilk sought out scarves and coats. Faustite found fewer senshi and knights overall; this new development left his energy draining tactics largely uninhibited by powered types. So when he sought to prowl over Destiny City that evening, he expected none of his opposition would find the weather tenable. And even if they did, he stood at less chance of tagalongs in such an altercation.
Faustite passed through areas seldom cared for — buildings with lease signs in their windows, unkempt houses, condemned and dilapidated structures. He saw so few signs of people. Perhaps he would chance sights of one hurriedly crossing the street, or hailing a cab when ill-dressed for the weather, but never once did he find a worthwhile catch. A child wandered from parents and he considered it, peered at her from welcome shadow, but the parents noticed her tangent before Faustite made a decision of it. Draining her would prove too troublesome, regardless; facing parents in short order often meant a police call and a fistfight.
Perhaps tonight should be different, then. As he wandered through alleyways and under overgrown arbors into secret gardens. There, he found a lone girl on the porche of a house, her attention bent furiously into her phone. A furred jacket obstructed view of the dress beneath, but strapped heels and bare calves were visible beyond the wicker furniture legs. Rivulets of mascara wandered aimlessly down her face. Her nose looked red, her cheeks bright. And somewhere inside, he heard muffled voices. Sometimes their volume spiked, sometimes they cheered, and sometimes they were accompanied by an ensemble of silverware.
He decided, then, that he would make another Yorke family out of them.
Feet appeared soundlessly on the floorboards behind her. She shifted in her seat, the wood squeaking slightly. He reached a hand over her mouth and clasped it taut, then slipped fingers through her chest before her struggles grew too great. A simple pluck of fruit and she went limp. That's all it takes, he thought bitterly. Another family broken with the flick of a wrist.infinities i figure the bats will make a great battle interruption
|
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 5:07 pm
Since that mirror thing had happened, Pythia had been a bit more on the careful side about- what was it that Lacedaemon had said it was called? Powering up? She didn't become Imbrium on mere whimsy. Frankly, Pythia had many other things to spend her energy on. Like hours upon hours of homework, and analyzing the latest political shenanigans and trying not to put her own eyes out in frustration. Cooking, so she didn't starve to death, because Doritos and Cheeze-Its were only so filling. Or doing her laundry, so that she could pretend she was living a much better life than she actually was, in regards to her moderate finances.
Regardless of all that personal drama, Pythia was coming to learn that the walks to her small apartment, after she left campus, were far safer if she could keep an extra sense out for some more... unusual dangers. Like, for example, other knights, or something called a Megafarse, or some weird demon-inspired things that sounded more like an early Halloween joke than an actual world-ending threat. With that ridiculousness sorted, the walks from campus to housing turned into small little jaunts to the next neighborhood, checking on classmates. Pranking a professor or two. You know- important things that clearly required magical intervention to ensure that Pythia Adler remained aloof of such classless shenanigans.
It was on one such evening escapade that Imbrium, armed with her frisbee and tonight's supply of toilet paper stolen from the college campus bathrooms, came across her very first Megafarce agent. Or so she assumed he was. She had been on her way to his house when she'd just had a bad feeling. It was odd. She'd felt it once before, in that little mirror place, but she'd been kind of running for her life, then. She'd felt similar sensations, but this was... raw? Jagged, like teeth, but... it was just discomfiting. She would have to think of a point of reference for the feeling later. Pythia- no, Imbrium, in this little outfit- followed the sensation, driven by curiosity more than anything else.
It was an odd tableau she came across, when she did; two young figures, probably highschoolers, frozen in a moment. One with a hand over the other's mouth, the other clutching something, then the other figure falling limp, defeated. It felt... wrong. Had Lacedaemon explained this to her? Not that she could recall. His lessons had come fast, and she probably hadn't been the Knight's best student ever. "Is everything okay?" she called, unable to bring herself to ignore the way the smaller figure had slumped over. It looked like a young woman, and she hated the idea of leaving another girl laying out like that. He could have drugged her, or something. Creepers came in all ages and sizes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 7:50 pm
The figure froze, looking like Superwoman in the distance. She felt saccharine and cloying to his senses, a clouded haze that clung to his teeth. Was it the youma that drove him from her? No — it was the captain.
"Everything is fine," he called back to her. Stepping out from the shadowed roof, he paced the few bleak steps down the front of the deck. The flood light jerked on once his feet touched grass, and overbright rays cut through his silhouette. Its luminosity danced in his smoke, adjoining and ascending, reaching for the sky. He looked to the page with scorn in his gaze. The starseed found his pocket. "Be on your way, Knight." Hands clasped together before him, plying palm against palm. In them, anticipation swelled. In them formed the urge for smoke and heat and carbonaceous water. He loosed a sigh; the smoke from his back billowed.
Shadows cut through the glowing windows. They peered until the curtains wore away, clawed at by curious fingers. Two faces appeared, one male and one female. Both older. Both worried. They sighted what they wanted to see. They rushed for the door, for the shotgun or bat or can of mace, and dashed beyond the flimsy wood with daring speech in hand. The woman ran to the daughter, bare feet slipping on dewey floorboards. The man stood, daring, at the edge of his deck with a baseball bat in hand. He raised it high, cutting the air with gentle swirls as he took up a long-practiced batting position. He waited for no explanations. "Get off my damn lawn, both of you!" He stepped forward, chanced a step down, and eyed unnatural figures.
"Honey, something's wrong with Susan. She won't wake up. Susan? Susan!" The woman knelt, flat flowers crushing into old woodgrain, and shook the limp figure. Susan did not stir.
Susan would never stir.
"What the hell did you do to my daughter? Answer me!" Fear crept in his voice. it quaked and cracked and raveled out the edges of his anger.
What a shame, thought the creature as he darted left, past the pincer, and toward the edge of the lawn.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 4:32 pm
The pieces weren't coming together, apart from the feeling of wrongness that she couldn't explain. Pythia moved forward a few steps, cautiously, her brow furrowing briefly. It wasn't her business. She shouldn't have involved herself even this far- she was just here to mess with a professor.
Everything is fine, the one called, and the voice was young but almost masculine, and then he left the other figure- a girl, probably, slumped over on the porch, coming towards Pythia herself. Well- there were a few things that could have explained this. Right? Maybe he was a creep, or maybe she was just a stranger who needed to keep her nose out of other people's business and not involve herself in- what the ********>. The floodlights came on, illuminating the scene, and what the actual ********. She stood there, peering at him. THAT wasn't a boy. Humans didn't give off that kind of steam, and even if he didn't feel a mess, she just couldn't- s**t. She should have paid better attention in Knight School.
"Oh, you know what I am?" Imbrium's interest perked- a closer look at whatever was wrong with this kid would surely be educational. But whatever she would have said next went unspoken and unheard as people burst from the home. "I was just stopping to make sure everything was fine!" she called to the angry man- and then the mother's panic reached her ears, and the hair prickled on the back of her neck. s**t- s**t."I didn't do-" she stopped, pursing her lips. Considering the steam-bag boy-figure who stood between her and the man on the lawn, with his menacing bat. Answer me!
He wasn't the only one who wanted answers. And as the figure began to run away, Imbrium gave a sigh, groaning. "Come back here, you stupid- stream train!" or whatever he was. It was? It looked like a person, but she sure didn't see many humans puffing steam like a furnace- and she hadn't noticed a cigarette. "I have questions, and I want answers!"
I. I, I, I! Susan probably just needed some smelling salts or something.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 12:54 pm
Steam train. How creative. Faustite shelved the thought for momentum. He sprang with his captain's strength, crested a rooftop with little difficulty. He adjusted, now, to his shifted center of gravity. To pipes venting his second breath. He steadied, turned, and faced the page with his vantage now so far from the family.
The pair vanished faster than he could chase them down. The husband, with grief winding its weariness through his wiry legs, retired the idea. The bat limped behind him, doleful in its failure. Concern fed into his cooling rage, chilling it to sorrow. He rushed to meet his wife.
Fantastical people in preposterous outfits remained forgotten to them in their quiet pall. The world shrank away. Their space narrowed to a pinprick of hurt, centered over the daughter that hadn't roused. They shook her, grazed fingers through her hair, cooed every nothing they knew from a time of infancy. They asked for her. They turned bleary eyes to the skies in search of answers, and found only the unblinking moon. The gibbous moon, that stared back impassively. The dead moon with its desolate civilization.
Hope ebbed eternal.
But Faustite chose to spend his bitter words out of earshot of the family. "Are you going to play the hero game, Page? You'll want this." He recalled the starseed to grasp. Glistening under the cloudy moon, it spun slowly over his black hand. "Ask your questions wisely. Be mindful of the answers.
"You won't always like what you hear."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 7:36 pm
Her target was moving away, and Imbrium's lips pursed in irritation as he sprang away far beyond anything that she could even consider managing- even if she wished to try and exert herself so. But she didn't understand anything that was happening here, only that the boy had done something, and the girl was unconscious, and the man with his bat was far out of reach now. She scrambled after the other figure, grunting and puffing as she tried to drag herself after him. It?
She had about four less complimentary nicknames for the other person by the time that he chose to pause, to let her catch up to him, huffing and puffing.
"Hero game?" Pythia was many things, but she was not a hero. And whoever- or whatever- this Imbrium power was, she wasn't sure it was anything heroic either. Lacedaemon had told her it was power, but hero was such a heavy word, and honestly, that wasn't the kind of person she was. "What is that?" she moved her body closer, unfeigned ignorance and curiosity furrowing her brow. "Who are you? Or what are you? You're not- you feel strange. and you have the whole..." Her hands gestured, mimicking the steam that he had expended. "And then the hand thing? I'm just a little confused." It was an understatement.
"And why would I want that thing?" It glimmered, and she was drawn to it, but... why was it important? What did it have to do with being a hero game?
Ask your questions wisely. Be mindful of the answers. It was an ominous warning, and she wasn't sure she liked it.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 2:15 pm
So you're one of the uninformed. Do they always leave your kind to their own devices? How haphazard. You would make better bait than most.
"I am half Youma. Half monster," he started, sharp eyes centering on the unfamiliar symbols adorning her uniform. A gemini symbol, nearly. Certainly no planet he knew. "It means half my life was taken fron me."
He stepped back, measuring his paces against the slow crumble of roofing shingles. Their terra-cotta surfaces cracked and splintered beneath weight uninvited. "This is a starseed. A person's soul." He waved the turning gem apart from his own torso, and gestured with a blacked hand over his sternum. "You have one of your own. Yours is laced with more power than hers — more potential. But it grows heavier that way, doesn't it? It's easier to feel responsibility for others when you hold power in your heart." It's easier to strip away another's autonomy, isn't it, Schörl?
"You can live without it for a time. Hours, days, maybe a week. But your body only clings to life through a beating heart and breathing lungs. One day, that clockwork gives out." He nodded toward the distance behind the thinly-clothed page, where the roofline hid a newly-broken family. "She'll have hours yet. Her family will take her to the hospital. Those hours become days on a respirator. But she has no chance of waking without this," he finished, with the gem still balanced on his fingers. "She could have decades with this."
The starseed shimmered, vanished into absence. His hands dropped and clasped before him. "It's a terrible tithe the Negaverse takes. Time taken in the form of energy, of starseeds. That's my responsibility.
"But you have a choice, my dear Page. You could earn back her life for her, if you think you have the strength to wrest it from me. Or you could walk away — you don't know her, after all. A deed spent here is a deed with little glory. No one will laud you, the Nameless Protector. No one will remember you for the life you lead outside of your planetary powers. So I ask you: is it worth the risk?" What does a life matter to you, if it's one you've never known? Are your morals any greater than my broken comrades? Or does this second life necessitate a neutering of moral doctrine?
We'll know in a moment, won't we?infinities have a lot of blabbering pls punch him halfway through
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Fri Oct 20, 2017 7:46 pm
Youma- she had been told that term. To hear someone so bluntly say they were half one, and then say it was a monster, was rather disconcerting, and teal eyes narrowed on the other figure, considering. half his life- taken from him? So he hadn't wanted to be... monsterized? Yet he seemed to be embracing it, as he lifted the glowing little chip to show her. A person's soul. A starseed. The term was vaguely familiar- perhaps Lacedaemon had mentioned it while she was still focused on her self-serving desire to become stronger.
Her lips pursed, considering the 'half-youma' with bland interest. "And you have one of your own?" she asked, gesturing to the stone. "A power in your heart?" He had to. If he did not, surely he wouldn't be telling her about what this was, holding it out for her as if he dared her to try and take it from him. As if it were somehow her responsibility to worry about foolish little girls who went outside at night and got violated, their souls ripped from their body as sure as if he had hurt her in another way. And that made her fingers twitch, her lips curling downwards in a derisive half-snarl.
One day, that clockwork gives out. And well she knew it. Age, alcoholism, Cancer, birth defects- Pythia had seen losses before, and it twinged her with guilt, now, remembering the cries of those desperate parents for their little Susan. But what good was she, even if she did pick a fight and get it back? What point to- Oh, ******** it anyway. She threw her shitty little frisbee at Talker's head, annoyed. "I'm not a hero, I'm not a protector. Earn her life back? I've got a ******** frisbee, you might want to rethink your expectations."
She was sorry, Susan, but even if she tried, what were her chances? It was too late for you, probably. Sorry, Susan's parents, Maybe the next set won't have to suffer through her ignorance. "Alternatively, you could just give it back to her. What's one soul to you, anyways? She's a child. And you took her life away, just as you were saying yours was. What's the point?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 11:49 am
"Just like you," he answered in assent.
So you'd do nothing with the power you were granted. Your moral compass is so broken that it doesn't matter to you if a stranger dies. They're nothing to you. To call upon the powers of your planet is to demand that they serve you. That they answer to petty whim spent on what? Gawking at teens on their own porches? What a waste.
There's no difference at all between you and my comrades.
She loosed her frisbee nonetheless, and it carried hard on the dead air until it struck his palm with a sting. He caught it nonetheless, and tossed it aside where it clattered over the shingle-bedecked roof. "You have the choice to walk away or to fight for a life you never met. You have the choice to lend protection to others, or protect yourself, or never power up again. You have a choice to carry on a life outside the garb you wear now.
"I don't. I'm tied to the engine of the Negaverse — dependent on providing it starseeds and energy to live." He approached her gradually. "I buy my days with other people's years. That's why I can't give it back." So what will you do? Walk away?
Smoke poured from him as he inhaled. He kept pace, drawing closer. "Your kind needs to know — for every attempt you thwart, the cost rises higher. The attempts grow greater. There can't be an armistice —"
A shriek sounded, pitched inhuman high and carried on beating wings. Faustite had little time to halt his advance before the great beast collided with him, carrying him toward the edge of the roof on uncertain heels. Its claws raked and it bit at once on his parry. The half-youma's ire meant nothing to the bat — it departed in a low loop as it curved around for another irksome attack.infinities hi hello my brain is melted i cannot tag
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Sun Oct 22, 2017 10:00 pm
He was like her. Like that girl, that he'd so easily taken a... soul? from? And yet he'd done it with little hesitation. I buy my days with other people's years. the very thought of it curdled her insides more than a small bit, and she wondered if her face reflected that dismay, and that vague consideration of disgust. There was a variety of other emotions too that she would have to parse later from this realization. She had been promised that one day she might actually wield power, not that the interim would be... this.
This vague uncertainty, more concerned for her own personal welfare than that of this unknown girl- a girl who would never be a woman. But why should Pythia risk her own years for Susan's? "Knowing doesn't make me responsible for this," she muttered, more to herself than to him; Pythia reached up to brush her hand through fiery curls, taking a step back as he moved to approach her.
"My kind?" she parroted back to him blankly, and hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat, never to loosen. "My kind." She swallowed, hard, and her frisbee stared at her when she made eye contact with it. It was useless, just like she was in this fight. "If you can't give it back, why don't you trade? There has to be something else you could want. As for my kind, if you're going around killing people, then eventually my kind won't be the only ones trying to 'thwart' you." her voice rose, torn between insult and fury at being lumped in with a kind that she didn't even know.
Luckily, she didn't have to shriek. Something else did, and Imbrium flinched as a shape flew between them, colliding with the- what had he called himself? Youma?- and drove him towards the edge of the roof- away from her. Taking the former man and the beast further away, but taking what was left of Susan with him. She had a choice, and damn it- she'd never left another girl in the lurch before, even if she hated her, and she couldn't do it now. She scrambled for her frisbee, and as the bat looped around, and flung herself at the half-youma with a grunt. "Give me Susan."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Tue Oct 24, 2017 6:26 pm
The bat's departure gave him a clear view of her — the page shot forward with all her molasses strength, her slow ardor brewing up from uncertain depths. She looked unconvinced of the worth of others. She hadn't fleshed her moral code. She hadn't actualized others beyond herself. She was still a child, as much as he was before darkness claimed his ignorant revelry. Scoffing, he waited for her.
Do you identify yourself with monsters, Page? Normally they appreciate the separation. Water from oil. Purity from filth. My kind is dirty, drab, and dour. My kind is what remains of yours after their starseeds are shattered. Men detest me and youma dismiss me. Were you still looking for inclusion into that category? How much you must hate yourself for what you are. Are you like Sinope? Do you live for another chance to die? He watched her then, for her fiery hair and spandex-tight outfit. He saw the way she fought her own flippancy, how she trawled it to the surface with skin and nails and teeth. Was it so hard for her to fit such a role?
She finally pursued. The bat looped around in time with her, each diving toward the same source. Faustite waited only so long; a click sounded as he spread his arms, and smoke exploded outward around him. A quick blink sent him further from the smog, toward the back of the steepled roof.
"Can you hear me, Page?" He seldom expected an answer over the ringing shock; he waited a liberal minute. "Trade me answers. Your name, your planet, why you want this starseed back." His voice sounded too loud in his own ears, and the wind dragged its spikes along his skin. The whole of the night felt so blisteringly acute. "What does it mean to you to save this life?" He asked, his arm thrust forward and his hand once again displaying the shimmering gem.
How lowly Schörl would think of me. But temptation is a bitter mistress — I can't always chance the starseed in my pocket. And if this page can learn others' import, then there will be use for her yet. She'll ease my dread for the inevitable.infinities Dispersion ;;
Range: 3 foot radius with Faustite at the epicenter.
Duration: 30 seconds
Use Count: 3x
Miss Chance: Circumventing magic, stepping beyond radius before execution, stepping out during the attack. Holding breath and closing eyes mitigates some of the effects.
Effect: Faustite draws his hands together, and a sound curiously akin to an opening lighter may be heard. With a deafening blast, Faustite then envelops himself in choking smoke. Those caught in the radius of the initial blast endure a residual ringing in the ears and mild disorientation. The blast itself articulates as the billowing black smoke, and those who breathe it will suffer burning lungs, stinging eyes, and may cough frequently depending on their reaction to the smoke. The symptoms of ringing ears and coughing will linger after leaving the smoke, up to a maximum of five seconds. This attack is not intended to produce lasting damage (like lung damage or hearing damage), but may do so at the defending player's behest.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Wed Oct 25, 2017 8:08 pm
He gathered himself more quickly than she had expected, though she should have known he would. he had described himself as half a monster, after all, and what would be better to shove off the attack of one monster than another? She was a fool for even trying, but in this moment, if she didn't, who would? The bat that had attacked the other certainly wouldn't bother trying to help Susan by getting back some glowing rock. If he had even told her the truth. And wouldn't that be a kicker- getting herself off her a**, just to fail.
She moved closer, even as behind her the bat swooped around; she dove for the part-youma. She didn't hear the click, and neither, it seemed, did the monster that was coming around for another assault. Teeth scraped along her bare shoulders and she hissed in pain, and her inhale to try and get breath in aching lungs drew in smoke. Her head rang, the world spun, and she staggered forward, arms seeking, eyes burning. She thought she could sense the monster struggling too, but she could be imagining things. It wouldn't be the first time. Teal eyes filled with tears, and she choked and coughed her way out of the smoke, catching herself before she toppled off the roof in the wrong direction.
"I hear you," she choked back to him, voice ragged. Teal eyes were baleful when she peered back at him. "Imbrium. Apparently, of Castor. As for why I want it back-" she coughed, wheezing. "I don't know if you're lying or not, but why not try? Susan doesn't mean anything to me besides being a girl in the wrong place at the wrong time, with the wrong person prowling her neighborhood." A common problem. And she wouldn't leave one of those behind, so how could she try and leave this?
She coughed again, pushing to her feet, wincing and eyes raising to the sky, seeing the creature that had bitten her. "Curiosity, if nothing else. How much of what you've told me is true. How much more is there I don't know?" Plenty, she was sure. The pieces blended oddly, incomplete jigsaws.And where to start except with what was in her face?
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2017 7:04 pm
Faustite rubbed absently at his cuff where the bat's two puncture marks were evident. Imbrium of Castor. New page. No clue to what she's doing.
Lukewarm morals. She hasn't actualized others. This is all a game to her. A real game. A game played with blood and bone and bodies. A game where the rats are left to eat the loser's corpse. Fine. I'll indulge you, Imbrium. Maybe you'll indulge me when I need it most. If you've made any progress by then.
The bat stumbled and lurched, making a last pass at the poorly-clothed page before it dove at a tilt toward the horizon. Its screeches sounded further and further, until traffic horns overtook it.
"Fine, Imbrium of Castor." The scratches down his forearm burned, but he thought little of it. Bat's claws meant nothing against the myriad injuries sustained in a war like this. He approached her again, slowly this time, and called to mind the delicate gem stolen not long ago. It twinkled desperately above his palm, its plight lit from the inside. It sung its tragedy through the lurid gold forming its sides, through the slow tilt of its orbit. "You have a lot to learn. It's best you start with this." Faustite crouched, knees popping beneath their spindly burden. He offered the gem to her without further action taken against her person.
"Drop it on her chest. Her starseed still holds life; it'll sink in. She'll wake and her chest will hurt. Her parents will laud you. It's the start of your fame, Imbrium." He snorted at the term.
"Consider it a favor from me to you." He straightened then, and tugged the wrinkles from his vest. "Don't be idle. She won't have long." And that favor won't be sitting forever. I expect you'll have the fortitude to carry it out. Faustite drew a breath, and gouts of smoke billowed from his back. "I'll see you again." He turned on heel, then vanished into his own wiry smoke.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Posted: Thu Oct 26, 2017 9:03 pm
Baleful teal eyes glared at him for a moment as he approached, still watery from the smog and smoke that she had foolishly gotten caught in. He reached out a blackened, narrow hand, and the gem that he had taken glimmered in front of her as he spoke.
A favor, from me to you. Favors demanded repayment, if not today then tomorrow. It was a bargain of sorts, though not signed in ink the way her own with Lacedaemon had been. She swallowed, reaching out and lifting the shimmer from his hand. She didn't say thank you. Favors would be repaid.
Instead, he got a short, firm nod. Acknowledgement of the debt owed. He turned, vanished, and she clutched her hand to her chest, protecting the starseed in one hand.
Alright, Susan. Let's see how this goes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
