07-18-2020, 01:00 AM
By the next day, the snake bite was improved. He tried to get Aiden to rub the salve on his hand with a wink and a nudge, but in the end was forced to rub it out himself. The losers who didn’t want to help a brother out. Still, despite the mostly joking, Jaxen found himself checking the puncture wounds more frequently than he liked. Despite his loathing of snakes, he was never actually struck by one before. Biting women, yes. Slithering reptiles, no.
Speaking of biting women, Ethelinda was pleasant. She regaled them all with the tale of an university student writing some sort of project on the area. Apparently she was descended from a long line of Irish ancestors and was always drawn to the country. She claimed to be American, but only Sage was close enough to the culture to actually ascertain if she in fact was American. Then again, the cyborg was barely human himself, so he was an unreliable judge.
Speaking of hacking, Jaxen worked on his own tech while they rode south. He had his privacy screens enabled to keep prying eyes away from the work, namely Ethelinda’s. She was too perfectly plain to be so interesting. While Jaxen had every intention to make good use of her handy expertise, he liked to know exactly who he dealt with. Dancing with devils was fine, so long as he knew how to avoid the horns.
He was relatively proud of his skills when it came to digging up information on the internet, but Ethelinda left little trace for such an ordinary life. He sent a message to Sage to ask him to investigate her identity.
Bet you a blow that she’s a fake.
He smirked when Sage read the message, but the communication was between them.
And by blow, I mean hit. Pick your favorite party favor.
The Hill of Tara was spectacularly unimpressive, he realized upon arrival. For one thing, it was barely a hill. Aiden insisted, however. Citing ancient thrones and seats of power. Such was the kind of thing that made Jaxen want to swallow his tongue. Some sources suggested that the site was the original capitol of the lost city of Atlantis, which was absolute bullshit, but Jaxen wouldn’t mind being the first human to stroll through streets of legend, just to see what interesting shit was laying around.
He emerged from the car among a modest gathering of others in a rather out-of-place parking lot, placing a hand to his eyes as he scanned their surroundings. An old church was nearby. Green grass rolled. Every direction looked the same. It seemed no more interesting than farmland.
“Tombs. Pillars. Temples. Car parks. Where do you want to start, Aiden?”
Ethelinda adjusted a bag on her shoulders and pointed. “The Stone of Destiny is that way. It’s probably the most famous of everything. It’s said to roar when touched by the rightful king of Tara.” She shrugged, only offering a suggestion.
Jaxen smirked. The stone of destiny, a giant phallic shaped rock, roared when touched. He had no doubt.
Speaking of biting women, Ethelinda was pleasant. She regaled them all with the tale of an university student writing some sort of project on the area. Apparently she was descended from a long line of Irish ancestors and was always drawn to the country. She claimed to be American, but only Sage was close enough to the culture to actually ascertain if she in fact was American. Then again, the cyborg was barely human himself, so he was an unreliable judge.
Speaking of hacking, Jaxen worked on his own tech while they rode south. He had his privacy screens enabled to keep prying eyes away from the work, namely Ethelinda’s. She was too perfectly plain to be so interesting. While Jaxen had every intention to make good use of her handy expertise, he liked to know exactly who he dealt with. Dancing with devils was fine, so long as he knew how to avoid the horns.
He was relatively proud of his skills when it came to digging up information on the internet, but Ethelinda left little trace for such an ordinary life. He sent a message to Sage to ask him to investigate her identity.
Bet you a blow that she’s a fake.
He smirked when Sage read the message, but the communication was between them.
And by blow, I mean hit. Pick your favorite party favor.
The Hill of Tara was spectacularly unimpressive, he realized upon arrival. For one thing, it was barely a hill. Aiden insisted, however. Citing ancient thrones and seats of power. Such was the kind of thing that made Jaxen want to swallow his tongue. Some sources suggested that the site was the original capitol of the lost city of Atlantis, which was absolute bullshit, but Jaxen wouldn’t mind being the first human to stroll through streets of legend, just to see what interesting shit was laying around.
He emerged from the car among a modest gathering of others in a rather out-of-place parking lot, placing a hand to his eyes as he scanned their surroundings. An old church was nearby. Green grass rolled. Every direction looked the same. It seemed no more interesting than farmland.
“Tombs. Pillars. Temples. Car parks. Where do you want to start, Aiden?”
Ethelinda adjusted a bag on her shoulders and pointed. “The Stone of Destiny is that way. It’s probably the most famous of everything. It’s said to roar when touched by the rightful king of Tara.” She shrugged, only offering a suggestion.
Jaxen smirked. The stone of destiny, a giant phallic shaped rock, roared when touched. He had no doubt.