05-16-2015, 05:08 PM
It was an exhilarating weakness of body that overtook Dane. He was content to wallow in it for a few moments, even to endure being the spectacle of Jorge's harsh gaze.
When he roused himself to movement, it was at his own pace, but the shouts below and gunfire in the distance were the impatient tapping foot inciting him to action. He'd given Damien his word that he would play a specific role in tonight's events, and thus he would fulfill that promise, but he could only move so fast.
"It is time,"
he supposed, echoing Jorge. With a heaving effort, he pushed himself off the sunken mattress, which was all the more soggy after his tirade with-- He'd already forgotten her name.
"If you'll give me a few moments in the washroom, I will be ready."
A claw of power dragged his discarded clothing behind him as he disappeared behind a narrow door that likely led to lavatory or similar.
Alone, he studied his face in the mirror. Sweat soiled the edges of his hair, so he promptly wiped it away with fresh water and slicked it back in some semblance of style. His skin was flushed red - a most unbecoming mottling. Brown smears streaked along his chest, which took a pair of wash clothes to wipe away. He was still breathing hard, like the exertion was taking some time to wean away. He often admired his appearance in mirrors, but a glib smile tilted his face with a new victory. He felt powerful, kingly even. He hurried to dress, although not so swift as to appear disheveled when he emerged.
Jorge waited for him in the hall like a ready escort. There was no need to take residence out there, but Dane appreciated the gesture as he would thank a servant doing their job properly. Dane swiped his wallet, pausing only a moment to admire the video encoded within. The soggy mattress was set ablaze in the next few steps, and as he left the room, a glow of orange lit his back like the hellish spotlight shone upon the stage's primo uomo. The curtains around the balcony doors were already catching by the time they left.
"I had no idea the revelry I was missing all these years,"
he told Jorge as they strolled. "This building may be stone and adobe, but fire will spread soon enough. Let us hurry."
A hint of a smile empowered by anticipation of what was to come beckoned his speed quicker. Jorge barely kept up.
The refreshing night air coiled beneath the linen of his shirt like cool fingertips streaking along his back. He savored it for a moment to gather his bearings. The patio opened into the larger yard of more expansive grounds surrounded by a stone wall too high to see over the top. Jorge gestured that they duck along the side of the building, but Dane was too familiar with scorpions and other creatures scuttling along the edges in daylight. He shook his head and strolled right through the center of the yard.
He thought of the begging girl under him and pictured the way her eyes stretched so wide he wondered if they might pop out of her skull. He imagined those eyes implanted into the heads of the black silhouettes walking the walls, splayed so wide in fear they'd pop out. Those were questions for another night. On this one, he was a figure of terror again, not a man of intimacy. Mockingbird, not Dane. He lifted his thoughts to the wall across the yard and sent coils of power through its core. The blast shook the ground under their feet, but Dane, expecting the rippling, kept his balance while Jorge winced and covered his face.
"Stand up you fool! If I didn't know how to send a blast away from myself, I'd be long ago smashed."
There was glee in his voice, but now he had the guards attention, but they didn't know Dane was responsible. If chaos reigned before, mayhem was the new king. Three men wielding machine guns ran toward them. Four others ran toward the smoldering hole. Shouts of more rose from behind.
He leaned toward Jorge's shoulder, careful not to actually touch the man, "Lets open the sieve,"
he told the Mexican as three more holes erupted in the walls around them, going off like a string of firecrackers. Jorge jerked from one direction to the other, and immediately gunfire popped into the dirt around their feet. Dane yanked Jorge in front of him and ran.
Panting, he rounded the corner of the building and was nearly crushed by fire-engulfed timber spewing from the window overhead. He jumped aside, landing in the dirt. As he looked back, Jorge rounded the corner. He'd survived the gunfire and yelled for Dane to wait.
But the wooden trellis off the balcony gave way, and the fiery inferno fell from the building as Jorge caught up to him. Dane shielded his face away from the crash and sparks landed around him. He scrambled away, patting the fiery flakes from his clothing as he did. Jorge was gone, and Dane did not take the time to water down the remains to look for a skeleton. There were more people to kill. Damien expected a clear path to Ramirez, and Dane was more than happy to clear the road.
Edited by Dane Gregory, May 16 2015, 05:13 PM.
When he roused himself to movement, it was at his own pace, but the shouts below and gunfire in the distance were the impatient tapping foot inciting him to action. He'd given Damien his word that he would play a specific role in tonight's events, and thus he would fulfill that promise, but he could only move so fast.
"It is time,"
he supposed, echoing Jorge. With a heaving effort, he pushed himself off the sunken mattress, which was all the more soggy after his tirade with-- He'd already forgotten her name.
"If you'll give me a few moments in the washroom, I will be ready."
A claw of power dragged his discarded clothing behind him as he disappeared behind a narrow door that likely led to lavatory or similar.
Alone, he studied his face in the mirror. Sweat soiled the edges of his hair, so he promptly wiped it away with fresh water and slicked it back in some semblance of style. His skin was flushed red - a most unbecoming mottling. Brown smears streaked along his chest, which took a pair of wash clothes to wipe away. He was still breathing hard, like the exertion was taking some time to wean away. He often admired his appearance in mirrors, but a glib smile tilted his face with a new victory. He felt powerful, kingly even. He hurried to dress, although not so swift as to appear disheveled when he emerged.
Jorge waited for him in the hall like a ready escort. There was no need to take residence out there, but Dane appreciated the gesture as he would thank a servant doing their job properly. Dane swiped his wallet, pausing only a moment to admire the video encoded within. The soggy mattress was set ablaze in the next few steps, and as he left the room, a glow of orange lit his back like the hellish spotlight shone upon the stage's primo uomo. The curtains around the balcony doors were already catching by the time they left.
"I had no idea the revelry I was missing all these years,"
he told Jorge as they strolled. "This building may be stone and adobe, but fire will spread soon enough. Let us hurry."
A hint of a smile empowered by anticipation of what was to come beckoned his speed quicker. Jorge barely kept up.
The refreshing night air coiled beneath the linen of his shirt like cool fingertips streaking along his back. He savored it for a moment to gather his bearings. The patio opened into the larger yard of more expansive grounds surrounded by a stone wall too high to see over the top. Jorge gestured that they duck along the side of the building, but Dane was too familiar with scorpions and other creatures scuttling along the edges in daylight. He shook his head and strolled right through the center of the yard.
He thought of the begging girl under him and pictured the way her eyes stretched so wide he wondered if they might pop out of her skull. He imagined those eyes implanted into the heads of the black silhouettes walking the walls, splayed so wide in fear they'd pop out. Those were questions for another night. On this one, he was a figure of terror again, not a man of intimacy. Mockingbird, not Dane. He lifted his thoughts to the wall across the yard and sent coils of power through its core. The blast shook the ground under their feet, but Dane, expecting the rippling, kept his balance while Jorge winced and covered his face.
"Stand up you fool! If I didn't know how to send a blast away from myself, I'd be long ago smashed."
There was glee in his voice, but now he had the guards attention, but they didn't know Dane was responsible. If chaos reigned before, mayhem was the new king. Three men wielding machine guns ran toward them. Four others ran toward the smoldering hole. Shouts of more rose from behind.
He leaned toward Jorge's shoulder, careful not to actually touch the man, "Lets open the sieve,"
he told the Mexican as three more holes erupted in the walls around them, going off like a string of firecrackers. Jorge jerked from one direction to the other, and immediately gunfire popped into the dirt around their feet. Dane yanked Jorge in front of him and ran.
Panting, he rounded the corner of the building and was nearly crushed by fire-engulfed timber spewing from the window overhead. He jumped aside, landing in the dirt. As he looked back, Jorge rounded the corner. He'd survived the gunfire and yelled for Dane to wait.
But the wooden trellis off the balcony gave way, and the fiery inferno fell from the building as Jorge caught up to him. Dane shielded his face away from the crash and sparks landed around him. He scrambled away, patting the fiery flakes from his clothing as he did. Jorge was gone, and Dane did not take the time to water down the remains to look for a skeleton. There were more people to kill. Damien expected a clear path to Ramirez, and Dane was more than happy to clear the road.
Edited by Dane Gregory, May 16 2015, 05:13 PM.