10-16-2017, 06:15 PM
He'd known Vega was rich. He was a clothes horse. Tailored silk suits, practical but clearly soft leather shoes. Fancy watch despite the fact that a wallet made them unnecessary. Detectives didn't usually run down perps. (Not that Vega was dainty and prissy, of course. They'd been together enough for Ivan to know that about him.) But he looked like money.
And still, knowing all that, he hadn't expected this. The house was huge, surrounded by a high wall. Almost a castle, really. And in a rich neighborhood. Money didn't really impress Ivan. But being in the presence of wealth was always so....alien. It was a world he'd never known. Which explained Vega's dress. You have this much money, it becomes hard to figure out what to spend it on. So weird.
Still, for all of that, his respect for Vega grew. The man never put on airs. Yeah, he sometimes seemed irritated at Ivan's exuberance. For which Ivan enjoyed ribbing on him for being stuffy and old. But the man never tried to make people seem less. It was a good trait to have.
Nox, on the other hand, seemed to give off irritation and a sense of fatality. He was gonna fight, of that Ivan was sure. But he seemed like he was already resigned to dying. And maybe that was because he had knowledge and experience with Atharim.
Then again, sometimes you could know too much. Think so inside the box- or have been trained to think so in the box- that you can't see solutions that were unorthodox.
Either way, Ivan didn't care. He liked Nox well enough. He just hoped the man would not be grumpy the entire time. He was glad to be doing something. He would not stand by and do nothing. He couldn't face the memory of inaction again. Not again.
On impulse, he seized the power and felt it surge through him. It felt good, as if he were connected to a electrical socket. Everything became brighter and more vibrant. The smells in his nose and taste in his tongue made him feel alive. And invincible. Let the Atharim come. They had faced monsters and killed children. And now they knew of their tricks and weapons.
He wasn't- something caught his attention and he studied the perimeter of the wall. Threads of....spirit? And other's wove together in an intricate lace, almost a spider web. They spun off into the distance toward some central point. And no one was there. How was that possible? No one was holding that thread.
He was going to ask when he saw Cruz and Christian, Cruz weaving water and spirit. What the hell? The kid had been sick, almost dead. He'd done well, weathered the sickness. But he was still new. Now...He looked at Nox.
"You train him to do that?"
Not just the weaves in his hands. The one surrounding the building. "What is this for, anyway?"
Nox's words were sort of an answer. An alarm. An arsenal. Ivan nodded and let himself be led down into the house. Vega was there. In a fortified castle. Anticipating Atharim.
Ivan smiled. It was stupid. What they were up against was dangerous. But they were doing something! Fighting. He nodded to Vega.
"Alright then. So, where do both think we should begin?"
And still, knowing all that, he hadn't expected this. The house was huge, surrounded by a high wall. Almost a castle, really. And in a rich neighborhood. Money didn't really impress Ivan. But being in the presence of wealth was always so....alien. It was a world he'd never known. Which explained Vega's dress. You have this much money, it becomes hard to figure out what to spend it on. So weird.
Still, for all of that, his respect for Vega grew. The man never put on airs. Yeah, he sometimes seemed irritated at Ivan's exuberance. For which Ivan enjoyed ribbing on him for being stuffy and old. But the man never tried to make people seem less. It was a good trait to have.
Nox, on the other hand, seemed to give off irritation and a sense of fatality. He was gonna fight, of that Ivan was sure. But he seemed like he was already resigned to dying. And maybe that was because he had knowledge and experience with Atharim.
Then again, sometimes you could know too much. Think so inside the box- or have been trained to think so in the box- that you can't see solutions that were unorthodox.
Either way, Ivan didn't care. He liked Nox well enough. He just hoped the man would not be grumpy the entire time. He was glad to be doing something. He would not stand by and do nothing. He couldn't face the memory of inaction again. Not again.
On impulse, he seized the power and felt it surge through him. It felt good, as if he were connected to a electrical socket. Everything became brighter and more vibrant. The smells in his nose and taste in his tongue made him feel alive. And invincible. Let the Atharim come. They had faced monsters and killed children. And now they knew of their tricks and weapons.
He wasn't- something caught his attention and he studied the perimeter of the wall. Threads of....spirit? And other's wove together in an intricate lace, almost a spider web. They spun off into the distance toward some central point. And no one was there. How was that possible? No one was holding that thread.
He was going to ask when he saw Cruz and Christian, Cruz weaving water and spirit. What the hell? The kid had been sick, almost dead. He'd done well, weathered the sickness. But he was still new. Now...He looked at Nox.
"You train him to do that?"
Not just the weaves in his hands. The one surrounding the building. "What is this for, anyway?"
Nox's words were sort of an answer. An alarm. An arsenal. Ivan nodded and let himself be led down into the house. Vega was there. In a fortified castle. Anticipating Atharim.
Ivan smiled. It was stupid. What they were up against was dangerous. But they were doing something! Fighting. He nodded to Vega.
"Alright then. So, where do both think we should begin?"