|
|
|
|
|
|
|
“That’s fine Gallows.” Kite finally responded to his cabalmate, turning away from Dash after he had nominated himself for Sentinal. “Remember, you have my full support, whatever you decide.”
Looking over at the unfamiliar man who had just come over and introduced himself ( Mr. Rossi ), Kite smiled and offered his handshake. “You are certainly welcome to join us” he smiled. “I’m Kite.”
Mr. Rossi answers to Kite's offer of hand, shaking it firmly with a good smile. His voice is friendly, even if maitains a certain uncertainity, perhaps as an attempt to remember?
-"Ah, thank you; very kind of you. How is going, Kite? I might be uncorrect...but it's... possible we met before; Wasn't it you... And Gallows, at the Written in Water? It could be a mistake. Time moves away.."-
The Moros greets again Dash and Gallows, nodding his head; he gives a cursory check around again, and he cannot stop a quick smile when West second the other Mages bid for Sentinel.
The gaunt necromancer offers an hand to shake and a sincere wish to the (so far unknown) Dash. Dash
-"Please, let me wish you all the best."-
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gallows nodded to Kite. He would explain his choices later, in more detail, but it was good to know that Kite trusted him. Perhaps their cabal would do better here than he had thought.
"You're...the Question, isn't it?" Gallows grinned. "Damn, but it's been a while. And yeah, I think we did meet at the Written in Water, but that was nearly a year ago."
Gallows nodded to Dash after the man nominated himself for Sentinel. "Good luck with the vote, Dash. Have you been in Sacramento long?"
The Acanthus frowned, his hand twitched as the Moros reached for him. 20+ years of life on the streets had pounded certain instincts into him. It took a little effort to restrain it. After a minut pause he accepted the man's hand and shook it.
"Thanks, dude."
He shrugged at Gallows. "Long enough to be shot by the hottest cop I've ever met."
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Gallows blinked. "Vaeltia shot you?" He supposed he could ask, to be sure that was who he meant, but there really wasn't much question of who 'the hottest cop he'd ever seen' could be around here. "Did you piss her off?" He took a glance over at her, and saw that she was standing near West. He had heard rumors about the older mage shooting people frivolously...maybe they weren't just rumors after all, and it was wearing off.
He'd have to be careful if they went out to any more strip clubs.
Mr. Rossi smiles pleasantly at Gallows remarks, and addesp olitely
-"I might remind we met some time ago, at the cemetery. Thankfully all went smoothly there. Toren is indeed a good chap."-
The Necromancer seems shocked Dash was fired at, the new prospective Sentinel seems to be sufficiently tough. Perceiving the Acanthus' distress, he turns his attention to Kite.
-"It does seems everything is following due course.Iit could be interesting to have a pint after everything is done."-
After this Mr. Rossi looks around.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
“Vaeltia shot you?” Kite quizzically raised an eyebrow, even though it wasn’t so much a question as the acknowledgement of new information. “I’m not surprised at the assault mind you - that's perfectly within her character - but what were you doing to make her draw a lethal weapon?"
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
For Continuuity
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
Kite spent a good, long time just looking at the piece of paper, pencil in hand. He was frowning, deeply troubled, his brow creased in thought. For a minute or so, he seemed to be pacing in circles around the empty sheet of paper, the pencil in his hand sticking out like a talon, almost as a bird circling its prey.
In one moment, he virtually dived towards the paper and wrote down a pair of names. But Then, after staring at them for a moment, scribbled them out. Gritting his teeth, he leaned against the table, his head bowed, and almost seemed to be searching his soul for guidance. Once more he grabbed the piece of paper, and wrote down two names… only to scribble them out almost as soon as he wrote them, all the while angrily grumbling something incoherent.
Wracked with indecision, the deeply troubled libertine took a few steps back away from the table, figuratively and literally putting distance between himself and the problem at hand. He eyed the paper from a distance, as though it were something that could strike back at him. Frowning intensely, his face the very definition ot doubt, he finally simply closed his eyes and deeply sighed.
“…damn it…”
Calmly, Kite walked over to the piece of paper one last time and wrote down – very reluctantly – three names. Then, oddly dejected, he folded the piece of paper, walked over to submit it, and returned to the group.
Draft this Post
