(no subject)
Characters: Novak/Scales [lizardoverdose] & Vimes/Stoneface [stonyfaced]
Date/Time: BACKDATED to February 2nd, late evening.
Location: The Marketplace, and probably moving from there.
Rating: PG..13? Probably.
Summary: Scales & Stoneface have a talk about the current state of Edensphere security.
------
He felt stronger and clearer-minded lately, and he liked it quite a bit. Cooler headed, even, and more isolated, and there was something nice about that clarity. It was less emotional, sure, and he definitely didn't care nearly as much as what people did or said (he'd barely checked his journal besides looking at his own entries) and there was something freeing about that. Fuck what all of them said. What were they doing to make the place safer? What did Drake do, that he deserved such a beautiful martyring?
Humans would be humans.
That was another thing he noticed creeping up on him, a sort of slick racism. It didn't bother him - something which he noted was yet another change - but it was a new thing.
He spent time among all the humans hooded and cloaked and keeping himself secretive. These people might hunt him down and kill him (that seemed right, seemed familiar), so he hid. He looked like some kind of crazy god, tall and lingering in black cloaks with black gloves and black boots and a hood pulled low over his face.
Ah, there was Stoneface. He'd seen the man writing in his journal a while ago, while he was writing, and it was a lucky break, really. He liked the idea of not having to reveal himself to a human, albeit one who actually could use a brain. He reached forward, allowing the cloak to fall away a little to reveal a scaly arm, and tapped him on the shoulder.
Date/Time: BACKDATED to February 2nd, late evening.
Location: The Marketplace, and probably moving from there.
Rating: PG..13? Probably.
Summary: Scales & Stoneface have a talk about the current state of Edensphere security.
------
He felt stronger and clearer-minded lately, and he liked it quite a bit. Cooler headed, even, and more isolated, and there was something nice about that clarity. It was less emotional, sure, and he definitely didn't care nearly as much as what people did or said (he'd barely checked his journal besides looking at his own entries) and there was something freeing about that. Fuck what all of them said. What were they doing to make the place safer? What did Drake do, that he deserved such a beautiful martyring?
Humans would be humans.
That was another thing he noticed creeping up on him, a sort of slick racism. It didn't bother him - something which he noted was yet another change - but it was a new thing.
He spent time among all the humans hooded and cloaked and keeping himself secretive. These people might hunt him down and kill him (that seemed right, seemed familiar), so he hid. He looked like some kind of crazy god, tall and lingering in black cloaks with black gloves and black boots and a hood pulled low over his face.
Ah, there was Stoneface. He'd seen the man writing in his journal a while ago, while he was writing, and it was a lucky break, really. He liked the idea of not having to reveal himself to a human, albeit one who actually could use a brain. He reached forward, allowing the cloak to fall away a little to reveal a scaly arm, and tapped him on the shoulder.