dreamer_fray (
dreamer_fray) wrote2006-12-12 05:22 pm
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Harth massages his temples.
It's more for dramatic effect than anything else, but the minions need everything blatant. The few in front of him shuffle back nervously - more nervously than they have been for a while. After Icarus' death, Harth had more of less ignored them, short of a few clipped instructions, mostly involving the Slayer. But a few weeks ago he'd suddenly got... organised.
If organised here means controlling, short tempered, and vicious when displeased. Those few who'd thought the diminutive vampire with the face of a kid would be easy to take on hadn't continued to think for long.
Well, 'cept for Hadran. Sometimes they still hear him screaming.
A thin white finger points thoughtfully at a particularly unlucky minion.
"Right. You two? Kill him, he's a moron."
The boy continues thoughtfully over the instant scuffle. "Not that y'aren't, both of you, but that time was really his fault. See? I can be fair."
Dust billows, and attention is returned to him. "So, y'failed to grab her before she handed the statue over. Dumb, but not unfixable. You'll pay attention next time?"
"Yes, Master."
"Excellent. Now rut off, if y'would. Little Katya's gonna be freaked enough with just me."
And Harth grins. Since that's fine with him.
It's more for dramatic effect than anything else, but the minions need everything blatant. The few in front of him shuffle back nervously - more nervously than they have been for a while. After Icarus' death, Harth had more of less ignored them, short of a few clipped instructions, mostly involving the Slayer. But a few weeks ago he'd suddenly got... organised.
If organised here means controlling, short tempered, and vicious when displeased. Those few who'd thought the diminutive vampire with the face of a kid would be easy to take on hadn't continued to think for long.
Well, 'cept for Hadran. Sometimes they still hear him screaming.
A thin white finger points thoughtfully at a particularly unlucky minion.
"Right. You two? Kill him, he's a moron."
The boy continues thoughtfully over the instant scuffle. "Not that y'aren't, both of you, but that time was really his fault. See? I can be fair."
Dust billows, and attention is returned to him. "So, y'failed to grab her before she handed the statue over. Dumb, but not unfixable. You'll pay attention next time?"
"Yes, Master."
"Excellent. Now rut off, if y'would. Little Katya's gonna be freaked enough with just me."
And Harth grins. Since that's fine with him.
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"Hey- It's movin'" he yelps, slightly melodramatically, and stretches out a hand to clutch at the wall, and the other to her. "Grab somethin'..."
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"Ruttin' Upway," she mutters. "Least we're not that far underground."
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"If we can get out, 'least we stand a chance when they come back."
The boy peers backwards, looking for all the world as if he were afraid.
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No, they don't. They really don't.
"Come on," she says, pressing on. "I'd rather not risk them coming back at all. But if they do come after us, we can get to a safe place."
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Above them, a slow trickle of dirty water seeps from the bottom of a crack in the ceiling, leading all the way to a small hole.
"There. Should probably be able t'fit through, yeah?"
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"Yeah, I think so," she says, reaching up and carefully pulling herself up to start to scale the crack. She hesitates after a few feet, and asks, "You're OK climbing, right?"
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"I'm okay at climbing, usually."
Harth is currently resisting the temptation to somersault over her head. The urge to show off is one he never did quite conquer.
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"You live around here?" she asks, talking rather than letting her headache return. "If you can get home, they can't come in."
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"I don't- really live anywhere much," he says awkwardly, after a moment. "Just, y'know. Around. It was better."
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"Oh."
She doesn't say a word more until she's reached the outside, and offered a hand, only slightly aware of the missing fingers, to help pull him out.
"You'd better... Come on, I'll take you where it's safe."
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"Thanks."
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Katya hesitates, and glances over her shoulder.
"We have to run. We're only safe inside."
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"...Ruttin'... W-which way?"
The stone fragments clatter their way down.
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"Com'on. You know Versi?"
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"Lil' bit, yeah. Think we can get there?"
From below, just within hearing, a snarl.
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"If we catch a ride, and if we
But she hesitates just to make sure he can catch up, despite the obvious fear from the snarl.
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"I- I think- they're followin' us," he gasps between ragged breaths.
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Then she just puts her head down and races, forgetting the boy.
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Killing in Haddyn tends t'be quick, all about the kill, skip to the end. But Harth remembers the games, the chase of older days, when there was space. The love of uncertainty that colors every fight with Mel, there's a little bit here, in the long hunt. Most humans rely so much on machines now, so few run like this, it's a rare joy even when the object of the game is something else.
One fist shatters a crumbling wall corner, scars the old brick as he runs on by and begins to climb after the terrified grabber-girl.
Stupid, most lurks. Need a sign to follow a chase this simple.
This way...