07-12-2018, 04:05 PM
(This post was last modified: 07-12-2018, 04:26 PM by Talos Quinn.
Edit Reason: Misunderstood aspect of previous post.
)
Talos was going to have to start warning people not to explode tiny fires around them. Vampires, which were statistically proven to be one of the most flammable things in the White Wolf universe, did not respond well to sudden fires. Drake didn't see, occupied as the man was on the correct execution of his technology, but Talos jumped a full foot back when the body erupted into flame.
Talos' subsequent stuttering was less due to fear of being watched, which would have been unsurprising given the context, or of being shot, which didn't generally work as expected (Weird future-guns notwithstanding.). They were distracted, self-soothing themself away from Rotschreck, the blinding red fear of fire, because fleeing the roof in terror would be a shame after going through all this trouble to meet Pariah.
Not Pariah, Drake. Fetching corpses apparently puts you on first name, or at least next-code-name, basis with probably-a-crime-lords.
The joviality was odd. A man was dead. And the sudden switch from being held at gunpoint to a handshake and a grin was enough to give Talos conversational whiplash.
And that was what it was clearly intended to do. The 'joke' with the lizard. Sudden changes in tone. Someone was prodding. Talos didn't have the energy to duel, so they turtled into reserved politeness. They did shake the hand. They did not know what a 'fam' was.
"Quinn," they said, which was the usual name for this form. "Good evening. For somewhat personal reasons, I am interested in learning what Scootz and his companions were doing in the city."
They wanted to know who they had gotten killed. Talos had informed Drake of the situation, and given him an opportunity to dispose of evidence. How much information was that worth?
Talos' subsequent stuttering was less due to fear of being watched, which would have been unsurprising given the context, or of being shot, which didn't generally work as expected (Weird future-guns notwithstanding.). They were distracted, self-soothing themself away from Rotschreck, the blinding red fear of fire, because fleeing the roof in terror would be a shame after going through all this trouble to meet Pariah.
Not Pariah, Drake. Fetching corpses apparently puts you on first name, or at least next-code-name, basis with probably-a-crime-lords.
The joviality was odd. A man was dead. And the sudden switch from being held at gunpoint to a handshake and a grin was enough to give Talos conversational whiplash.
And that was what it was clearly intended to do. The 'joke' with the lizard. Sudden changes in tone. Someone was prodding. Talos didn't have the energy to duel, so they turtled into reserved politeness. They did shake the hand. They did not know what a 'fam' was.
"Quinn," they said, which was the usual name for this form. "Good evening. For somewhat personal reasons, I am interested in learning what Scootz and his companions were doing in the city."
They wanted to know who they had gotten killed. Talos had informed Drake of the situation, and given him an opportunity to dispose of evidence. How much information was that worth?
"To live in this world you must be able to do three things:
To love what is mortal;
To hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to let it go,
To let it go." – Mary Oliver
To love what is mortal;
To hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it;
And, when the time comes to let it go,
To let it go." – Mary Oliver