03-13-2014, 04:00 PM
The slow worry that told Jensen the world was suddenly quite wrong clutched at his heart until he was looking upward as frantically as the others. Licking his lips did nothing to alleviate the tension, but drawing in more of the Gift did. He drew on it until he felt as thought the universe was going to pull him apart one hair at a time. The breeze became a slap on the face. The street lamp became a flood light. Sweat began to puddle the skin of his back.
The man's italian accent sounded like a mobster from a movie. Still as intimidating, too. His orders cut to the bone, and if they'd been directed at Jensen, he would have had a hard time dismissing them.
The stranger asked for her to share a weapon. She was practically a walking armory anyway. Jensen nodded agreement. "Look, is there something we can do to stop it without-"
but there was a flash of steel and a sudden rush that banged like a flashbomb in his mind. A surprised yell burst from him, but as he spun to see the culprit, it was already gone again. A shriek was left ringing in his ears.
The woman had fended it off with her sword. Ice-like fear flowed through his veins. There was something there, alright. Like it leapfrogged over him and hovered mere steps away. It was a pale, misty thing, half fog and half man. Though he could see right through it, Jensen was not of the frame of mind to wonder what sort of creature it could be, but to kill it? Barring a brown recluse, Jensen preferred to capture and release a spider when Jessika found one in the house.
Not giving a total stranger a gun was probably a wise move, but Jensen hesitated. The form wavered and billowed like a fog-machine trapped behind glass. It was kind of beautiful.
Forget for a moment that this woman seemed to know Jensen's Gifts, he wasn't sure if he knew how to freeze something solid, let alone whether he wanted to see this thing decapitated because of it. "I don't know ma'am-"
"Everything alright?"
someone called. Jensen turned immediately toward the sound, but all he saw was a grocery bag in the man's hand. I KNEW that store was around here somewhere!
Unsure how to answer, he surveyed his companions. A woman and now a man, both wielding swords, a tower of mist loosely shaped into the form of a man, and himself, hair curled and tucked behind his ears, hands half-up in the universal symbol for peace, and feeling like he were at the edge of an avalanche right before it gave way.
"Well, uhm, I'm not too sure right now."
When he turned back to face the creature, he gasped, startled. The thing had formed pits for eyes, and though swirling with mist and fog, Jensen knew they were staring back at him. They gripped his heart with fear, and he knew the sensation of a deer caught in the headlights.
Maybe a defense would be a good idea, after all.
But it wasn't ice and fire he chose to wield. It was the light itself. A glorious white pulse that had sent the old woman flying far and away from its prey.
He prayed it worked, stepped aside so the woman was out of the direct path, and thrust his palms outward as the gift built form in his mind.
The transition from holding the Gift to using it was too much. The mist monster dissolved in a billion invisible droplets only to reform directly in front of his face. Shock broke a yell out of him, and then the paralysis came. In the blink of an eye, his arms were limp and fallen at his sides. His back buckled beneath the strain, and he found himself on hands and knees. The Gift flowed through him with such force he would have vomited had he been able to heave. He became a conduit, and this thing was going to take it all.
He looked up, to anyone, everyone, and silently pleaded for help.
The man's italian accent sounded like a mobster from a movie. Still as intimidating, too. His orders cut to the bone, and if they'd been directed at Jensen, he would have had a hard time dismissing them.
The stranger asked for her to share a weapon. She was practically a walking armory anyway. Jensen nodded agreement. "Look, is there something we can do to stop it without-"
but there was a flash of steel and a sudden rush that banged like a flashbomb in his mind. A surprised yell burst from him, but as he spun to see the culprit, it was already gone again. A shriek was left ringing in his ears.
The woman had fended it off with her sword. Ice-like fear flowed through his veins. There was something there, alright. Like it leapfrogged over him and hovered mere steps away. It was a pale, misty thing, half fog and half man. Though he could see right through it, Jensen was not of the frame of mind to wonder what sort of creature it could be, but to kill it? Barring a brown recluse, Jensen preferred to capture and release a spider when Jessika found one in the house.
Not giving a total stranger a gun was probably a wise move, but Jensen hesitated. The form wavered and billowed like a fog-machine trapped behind glass. It was kind of beautiful.
Forget for a moment that this woman seemed to know Jensen's Gifts, he wasn't sure if he knew how to freeze something solid, let alone whether he wanted to see this thing decapitated because of it. "I don't know ma'am-"
"Everything alright?"
someone called. Jensen turned immediately toward the sound, but all he saw was a grocery bag in the man's hand. I KNEW that store was around here somewhere!
Unsure how to answer, he surveyed his companions. A woman and now a man, both wielding swords, a tower of mist loosely shaped into the form of a man, and himself, hair curled and tucked behind his ears, hands half-up in the universal symbol for peace, and feeling like he were at the edge of an avalanche right before it gave way.
"Well, uhm, I'm not too sure right now."
When he turned back to face the creature, he gasped, startled. The thing had formed pits for eyes, and though swirling with mist and fog, Jensen knew they were staring back at him. They gripped his heart with fear, and he knew the sensation of a deer caught in the headlights.
Maybe a defense would be a good idea, after all.
But it wasn't ice and fire he chose to wield. It was the light itself. A glorious white pulse that had sent the old woman flying far and away from its prey.
He prayed it worked, stepped aside so the woman was out of the direct path, and thrust his palms outward as the gift built form in his mind.
The transition from holding the Gift to using it was too much. The mist monster dissolved in a billion invisible droplets only to reform directly in front of his face. Shock broke a yell out of him, and then the paralysis came. In the blink of an eye, his arms were limp and fallen at his sides. His back buckled beneath the strain, and he found himself on hands and knees. The Gift flowed through him with such force he would have vomited had he been able to heave. He became a conduit, and this thing was going to take it all.
He looked up, to anyone, everyone, and silently pleaded for help.