[Wild Roses]
Title: stranger
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Kickback, Aodh
Prompt: 67B "motion"
Word Count: 212
Rating: PG
Notes: after this; post wars. Kickback anchors with larathia
The Stranger was small, but that didn't really mean anything about what he was capable of. The best sneak-thieves tended to be small, after all, and nobody who'd tangled with the possessed banked on apparent physical strength or speed.
If he hadn't been so very obviously from out of town, alliance--if not possession--might've been the first thought that came to mind, watching him move. Deliberately slowed down to normal speed, every motion however careless-looking controlled, from the way he gestured with his cigarettes to the way he bounced up onto tables, one hand braced as a probably-unneeded pivot point.
All of which should have added up to 'dangerous, figure out what he wants and send him on his way' but didn't, quite.
He took scotch-fueled ribbing good-naturedly, flipping coins or cards between his fingers, and he used the winnings from card games to keep an open tap of a decent grade of whiskey at three different bars. Not the top grade, either, which he certainly could've afforded, the way the commuters started challenging him to games after a week or two of coin tricks.
He'd taken the point made with lighter and rooftop easily, too, grinning straight up from street-level, slightly-too-pointy teeth showing in something more like amusement than threat.
’Verse/characters: Wild Roses; Kickback, Aodh
Prompt: 67B "motion"
Word Count: 212
Rating: PG
Notes: after this; post wars. Kickback anchors with larathia
The Stranger was small, but that didn't really mean anything about what he was capable of. The best sneak-thieves tended to be small, after all, and nobody who'd tangled with the possessed banked on apparent physical strength or speed.
If he hadn't been so very obviously from out of town, alliance--if not possession--might've been the first thought that came to mind, watching him move. Deliberately slowed down to normal speed, every motion however careless-looking controlled, from the way he gestured with his cigarettes to the way he bounced up onto tables, one hand braced as a probably-unneeded pivot point.
All of which should have added up to 'dangerous, figure out what he wants and send him on his way' but didn't, quite.
He took scotch-fueled ribbing good-naturedly, flipping coins or cards between his fingers, and he used the winnings from card games to keep an open tap of a decent grade of whiskey at three different bars. Not the top grade, either, which he certainly could've afforded, the way the commuters started challenging him to games after a week or two of coin tricks.
He'd taken the point made with lighter and rooftop easily, too, grinning straight up from street-level, slightly-too-pointy teeth showing in something more like amusement than threat.