(no subject)
WHO: belial, vulpes inculta, jack winter
WHAT: A not-so-happy reunion.
WHEN: After Belial and Vulpes flee their suddenly inhabited flat.
WHERE: An alley in the nameless district.
You can't build a city in a day, or something like that; Jack couldn't quite remember the proper quote, but he'd never had any reason to doubt the message behind it. Even with magic, he couldn't recall the last time he watched a tract of land evolve from barely habitable to proper and clean and bustling with life. It didn't really surprise him, though; not much in this city made sense.
Even the alleys seemed nicer now, Jack noted. The piles of garbage weren't nearly as high as they'd been upon his arrival. The hovel he'd been crashing at was no longer a valid option, as it went from abandoned to suddenly inhabited by a very angry man wielding a very large club. Neither hex nor curse stopped the man, and his witchfire failed to respond no matter how hard he fought to summon it. Luck, and the man's apparent inability to hit the broad side of a barn from striking range, kept his brains and other assorted bits inside where they were supposed to be. He'd even managed to nab a chunk of unidentifiable meat and a crust of bread from near the fireplace on his way out.
As he crouched near the back of the alley, attempting to stay as far in the shadows as he could, the mage heaved a frustrated sigh; he had one Parliament left, and nothing to light it with. He felt twice his age, and even with good food available, his appetite was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, he still had his flick knife. It seemed like a minor miracle that he'd managed to keep track of it, and he'd been toying with it near constantly since stopping to consider his next course of action.
WHAT: A not-so-happy reunion.
WHEN: After Belial and Vulpes flee their suddenly inhabited flat.
WHERE: An alley in the nameless district.
You can't build a city in a day, or something like that; Jack couldn't quite remember the proper quote, but he'd never had any reason to doubt the message behind it. Even with magic, he couldn't recall the last time he watched a tract of land evolve from barely habitable to proper and clean and bustling with life. It didn't really surprise him, though; not much in this city made sense.
Even the alleys seemed nicer now, Jack noted. The piles of garbage weren't nearly as high as they'd been upon his arrival. The hovel he'd been crashing at was no longer a valid option, as it went from abandoned to suddenly inhabited by a very angry man wielding a very large club. Neither hex nor curse stopped the man, and his witchfire failed to respond no matter how hard he fought to summon it. Luck, and the man's apparent inability to hit the broad side of a barn from striking range, kept his brains and other assorted bits inside where they were supposed to be. He'd even managed to nab a chunk of unidentifiable meat and a crust of bread from near the fireplace on his way out.
As he crouched near the back of the alley, attempting to stay as far in the shadows as he could, the mage heaved a frustrated sigh; he had one Parliament left, and nothing to light it with. He felt twice his age, and even with good food available, his appetite was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, he still had his flick knife. It seemed like a minor miracle that he'd managed to keep track of it, and he'd been toying with it near constantly since stopping to consider his next course of action.