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 Posted: Wed Jul 11, 2012 11:26 am
It hurts to struggle, so after the first futile wriggle and kick, he slumps almost limp. It is a tired sort of slump, and a familiar one. Talbot is built much like his brother, strong through the arms and solid through the chest in a way that Warwick will never be. And he is using a hold that Reese has used on his brother in the past, as well. One that Warwick is familiar with.
He knows that if he fights it too much, he'll just find himself unconscious.
So he draws in a few deep breaths and squints up at Jessica as she appears, still rather thoroughly captured, only his fingers stretching now. He doesn't want to loose the feeling. Doesn't want to do any damage to himself.
"...Will?" It comes out slow and confused, still shot through with frustration. She knows this man's first name.
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Posted: Fri Jul 13, 2012 11:32 pm
Jessica looks from Warwick to her brother with terror written so clearly on her face that it seems almost comical. It appears as though she wears a mummer's makeup, two hot bright spots of red on her cheeks, her eyes wide, and for once, her hands clasped in front of her chest so tightly her knuckles are white. She is so thoroughly shocked and appalled she forgets to wring her hands. "Ah," she says, and her voice is a bit strained, a little girlish, "Will is -- my brother. Warwick," she says, weakly, falling back on old manners drilled into her by stern ruler-wielding governesses, "this is my elder brother, Captain William Talbot, of the Royal Navy."
It is his full title, although this is an odd place for a navy man to be, and Jessica's lame attempt at a chivalrous defusing of the situation fails utterly. Behind Warwick, Talbot does not move, or loosen his grip. His stillness echoes Jessica's own, though his voice is mild, and does not shake: "What are you doing in this man's company, Jessica?"
The girl flushes, properly abashed, "He had a guardian -- I thought to go to Oldcastle, to get away from the house--"
"--leaving the house is of one magnitude, Jessica, going to Oldcastle, and in the company of -- a young man --" Talbot is properly speechless, or he at least seems to be. The grip on Warwick's hand has not loosened, but it has not gained a hysterical strength, either. His tone is entirely to chastise his sister. "Is this about the Guardian, Jessica?"
She nods. Even Iskierka, normally so bull-headed and willful, seems cowed. Talbot sighs, and then -- surprisingly -- lets Warwick go, taking a step back, so that the heels of his Hessian boots crunch on the dirt road. As he does so, a moment later Warwick might find a Guardian -- not his own, it is Cesambre -- betraying her normally self-contained nature to sniff discreetly at his hair.
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Posted: Sat Jul 14, 2012 7:47 pm
The second Talbot's fingers loose, Warwick is out of his grasp — tumbling to the ground and scrambling away in a surprisingly graceful motion, coming to his feet a good yard or two from the Captain and not stopping there. He wants to put his back to the caravan, and that is exactly what he does, smooth wood against his spine and Wren easing around and past to settle next to to him. Protective, some. She will even defend against Cesambre, if she must.
"I ain't involved in yer family business." It comes out halting, though, uncertain, floundering some. Warwick doesn't know what to say, so he just flicks quick look from one to the other.
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Posted: Sun Jul 15, 2012 11:17 pm
Jessica starts to say something, and opens her mouth, but then shuts it with an an awful, pained expression. Iskierka stands in front of her, ears fanned out and attention rapt: she has never seen other Guardians before, not before Wren, and Cesambre is intimidating. The yearling snorts, tosses her head, and kicks her heels up in an inelegant display of feeble rage. Jessica reaches out towards Warwick, and then takes a step forward, aware she is under the watchful eye of her elder brother. "I'm sorry," she says, pleads, "Please believe me, I didn't want to get you in trouble."
Talbot is unmoved. The only thing keeping Warwick from something much worse is the fact that he's Chosen. Guardians just don't choose anyone. He shoots Warwick a look that speaks volumes and turns to Jessica, murmuring something quietly in her ear, which makes her go pale and then turn scarlet. Not exactly hard to do. She wilts like a flower.
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Posted: Mon Jul 16, 2012 5:44 pm
"Am I...in trouble?" Halting, still, uncertain, Warwick's hand goes up to Wren's neck, and she takes his obvious discomfort as a sign — putting the admittedly-still-small bulk of her body between her Chosen and the rest of them, and tilting her head to glare disapprovingly. Her annoyance isn't an understanding one, but the other Guardians may pick up on it all the same. Possessive and, vaguely, condescending.
For his own part, Warwick shifts, tugging on his vest to put it in place and now keeping his eyes rather firmly locked on Talbot.
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