[for julien] what comes around
The tournament was over. The Court-- quiet or restive-- had been entertained enough for one day. They lay low, or turned their heads toward one other talking of what they'd seen. The Arcana. The tumblers, singers, fun sport. That certain Number who'd had one too many drinks.
No one said anything to the solemn Jack when he slipped through the Spade's castle, walking with a purpose.
Victor-- perhaps not knowing what he'd done-- had given the man whiskey.
Lance-- knowing well what he did-- had accepted it.
The sharp clip of shoes whose shine had been dulled by a day walking earth found what they were looking for in one of the lower training rooms. "Hello, Julien." Lance walked in without a smile, he didn't linger in the door. He didn't care that he may be interrupting.
Lance swung a fist with all the power he had up toward the Ace's gut.
He was hoping that suprise would outweigh the lack of speed that such a heavy punch would have. Julien couldn't expect an outright attack.
No one said anything to the solemn Jack when he slipped through the Spade's castle, walking with a purpose.
Victor-- perhaps not knowing what he'd done-- had given the man whiskey.
Lance-- knowing well what he did-- had accepted it.
The sharp clip of shoes whose shine had been dulled by a day walking earth found what they were looking for in one of the lower training rooms. "Hello, Julien." Lance walked in without a smile, he didn't linger in the door. He didn't care that he may be interrupting.
Lance swung a fist with all the power he had up toward the Ace's gut.
He was hoping that suprise would outweigh the lack of speed that such a heavy punch would have. Julien couldn't expect an outright attack.