09-18-2016, 01:10 PM
It hurt, like a whip lashed hard into her face. She was still blinking away the pain when something grabbed her arm and wrenched her back. By the time the whooshing heart-beat at her temples subsided, Natalie was tucked safely behind Jay. She gingerly touched her nose, expecting blood, but her palm came away clean, and there was no throb of pain. The shining threads had split from her control and cracked back, imprinting a flash across her gaze - that too now fading. Darkness crept where the power had been, warning her against further use. Fatigue quickly filled up the spare space. She needed to learn how to use this.
"Suwa'ye."
The whispered accusation rippled from the disarmed doctor, burrowing its way into the crowd; it travelled in a hiss, people falling back from the aftermath. Natalie's lips flickered a frown, once again steeling herself for confrontation. She'd done nothing overt to deserve the condemnation, and they didn't need the complicated baggage such an insult carried, but the man's injured glare was unfocused. Concern eased a little. He might just mean the effortlessness with which Jay dispatched three men -- the word itself only meant extraordinary power -- but still, it was not a kind one; not when it seethed like that, and caused others to recoil and wonder. It was the final blow of the defeated. A lingering smear to soothe a battered pride. But no-one stopped them leaving.
Outside, the sun clawed bloody gouges in the sky; a deep and brooding sunset. Dust choked a clean breath; Natalie tried not to inhale too deeply, her throat tickling, but was glad to leave the hospital.
Behind them a triage tent billowed beside the building, housing those not lucky - or urgent - enough to find themselves within. A little guilt chimed in her chest as she clapped eyes on it. The noises and groans emanating on the dry breeze curled barbs in her heart, but she turned her attention away. Devastation rent the view. In the distance, buildings hung like ragged teeth; some crumbled entirely where the shells had hit. She could smell smoke, and red blazes dotted the darkness. Pockets of dust danced in the air. The faint wailing of sirens following on the wind.
The fighting had stopped, evident by the milling of people - many dazed. But the aftermath crowded as dark as the approaching night. Sierra Leoneans were a gregarious and warm people. Peace - or what passed for such in Africa - had reigned the past fifty years, but plenty had longer memories. Their world ripped and they met it with admirable courage and aplomb, which perhaps explained why the streets were not quiet following such a tragedy. The people were tense, perhaps, but they were also practical.
Her mind set for the first time on what she might find when they returned to the embassy. Duty pulled her back there; she was acutely aware of the tug, and it suddenly felt like chains.
"I believe you didn't mean to."
She smirked, making a pointed inspection along the lines of his battle suit and rifle, before her gaze flicked back up to his face. She was used to the barrier of his landwarriors; a soldier's anonymity. His eyes were very blue, and meeting them suffused warmth in her stomach. She tipped her shoulder into a half shrug. "They knew what you were saying. But perhaps not who Legion Premiere are."
Or maybe they did and picked a target to vent frustration.
"Will you be in much trouble when we go back?"
"Suwa'ye."
The whispered accusation rippled from the disarmed doctor, burrowing its way into the crowd; it travelled in a hiss, people falling back from the aftermath. Natalie's lips flickered a frown, once again steeling herself for confrontation. She'd done nothing overt to deserve the condemnation, and they didn't need the complicated baggage such an insult carried, but the man's injured glare was unfocused. Concern eased a little. He might just mean the effortlessness with which Jay dispatched three men -- the word itself only meant extraordinary power -- but still, it was not a kind one; not when it seethed like that, and caused others to recoil and wonder. It was the final blow of the defeated. A lingering smear to soothe a battered pride. But no-one stopped them leaving.
Outside, the sun clawed bloody gouges in the sky; a deep and brooding sunset. Dust choked a clean breath; Natalie tried not to inhale too deeply, her throat tickling, but was glad to leave the hospital.
Behind them a triage tent billowed beside the building, housing those not lucky - or urgent - enough to find themselves within. A little guilt chimed in her chest as she clapped eyes on it. The noises and groans emanating on the dry breeze curled barbs in her heart, but she turned her attention away. Devastation rent the view. In the distance, buildings hung like ragged teeth; some crumbled entirely where the shells had hit. She could smell smoke, and red blazes dotted the darkness. Pockets of dust danced in the air. The faint wailing of sirens following on the wind.
The fighting had stopped, evident by the milling of people - many dazed. But the aftermath crowded as dark as the approaching night. Sierra Leoneans were a gregarious and warm people. Peace - or what passed for such in Africa - had reigned the past fifty years, but plenty had longer memories. Their world ripped and they met it with admirable courage and aplomb, which perhaps explained why the streets were not quiet following such a tragedy. The people were tense, perhaps, but they were also practical.
Her mind set for the first time on what she might find when they returned to the embassy. Duty pulled her back there; she was acutely aware of the tug, and it suddenly felt like chains.
"I believe you didn't mean to."
She smirked, making a pointed inspection along the lines of his battle suit and rifle, before her gaze flicked back up to his face. She was used to the barrier of his landwarriors; a soldier's anonymity. His eyes were very blue, and meeting them suffused warmth in her stomach. She tipped her shoulder into a half shrug. "They knew what you were saying. But perhaps not who Legion Premiere are."
Or maybe they did and picked a target to vent frustration.
"Will you be in much trouble when we go back?"