11-21-2013, 03:15 AM
Claire's sudden change in stance should have set alarm bells ringing, but he only felt a dull throb of pain. He squeezed his eyes shit and massaged his left temple with one hand. The power had become unruly. The ocean in the thrall of a typhoon.
He lost his grip and staggered, barely able to hold himself upright. Banality came flooding back into his bones along with an exhaustion that made his shoulders sag and metallic bile rising in his throat.
Blood...? The thought was distant and fleeting.
Blinking, he re-adjusted his gaze and the cause of the change in atmosphere was apparent. It was slightly disconcerting that he did not feel panic. He felt...nothing... As if his mind hadn't truly registered what his eyes had seen.
That was not the case, as he knew perfectly well what it meant. Ignorance wouldn't solicit that kind of reaction. She could use the power, he was sure. Of course, it could have been a relative or friend, but Tony would stake his life on it.
In a way, he was.
His smile returned, although now it was neither flattering nor exaggerated. It was hard and cynical - but not unkind; an acknowledgement of the pain and danger that accompanied the dubious gift.
When he replied, he discarded any pretence of ignorance. Logic screamed for caution, but it was a dilute sensation. "Oborev knows the 'Sickness' quite intimately."
Years of experience in the art of veiled conversation kept him from declaring it outright, but he found himself in no mood for dissembling. "As do I. And those bastards took my life, future and family for it."
"This meeting was a coincidence,"
his smile turned playful. "Rest assured, my interest was genuine."
The playfulness was short lived. "But it seems I was careless. If you really want to know, there are powerful people who would go to great lengths to see those with the 'Sickness' disappear. I intend to do something about it."
He lost his grip and staggered, barely able to hold himself upright. Banality came flooding back into his bones along with an exhaustion that made his shoulders sag and metallic bile rising in his throat.
Blood...? The thought was distant and fleeting.
Blinking, he re-adjusted his gaze and the cause of the change in atmosphere was apparent. It was slightly disconcerting that he did not feel panic. He felt...nothing... As if his mind hadn't truly registered what his eyes had seen.
That was not the case, as he knew perfectly well what it meant. Ignorance wouldn't solicit that kind of reaction. She could use the power, he was sure. Of course, it could have been a relative or friend, but Tony would stake his life on it.
In a way, he was.
His smile returned, although now it was neither flattering nor exaggerated. It was hard and cynical - but not unkind; an acknowledgement of the pain and danger that accompanied the dubious gift.
When he replied, he discarded any pretence of ignorance. Logic screamed for caution, but it was a dilute sensation. "Oborev knows the 'Sickness' quite intimately."
Years of experience in the art of veiled conversation kept him from declaring it outright, but he found himself in no mood for dissembling. "As do I. And those bastards took my life, future and family for it."
"This meeting was a coincidence,"
his smile turned playful. "Rest assured, my interest was genuine."
The playfulness was short lived. "But it seems I was careless. If you really want to know, there are powerful people who would go to great lengths to see those with the 'Sickness' disappear. I intend to do something about it."