devotedtothecore | BACKTHREAD POST

[It really isn't until Chrysos gets a few paces away that he looks up, the reflection in the glass breaking his distraction.]

Ah, Chrysos. It has been some passage of time, hasn't it? How fares the water filtration plans?

[ the reflection stops at that distance, eyes on him. ]

...

Would you come?

[ head tilting slightly to one side. ]

I would show you.

[Gosh. Gosh :D]

Certainly, my tenacious technician. Lead on, my dear.

[ ...turns on his heels and heads for the main doors... pushes one open with his good hand, letting a nice cool breeze in.

and steps out onto the tree highway, glancing behind. ]

Did you settle on a charcoal based filter or something more- [That... does cause a pause.] Outside?

...the water's below.

[ turns to the front and down again, gestures with a hand. ]

We've not enough piping, as of yet.

Recommissioning the pump system, I take it? [Steps out to lean in the doorway, peering into the darkness a moment before shaking his head.]

Mmm quite expected, metal being in short supply. You might see if Zhen Ji might be able to spare what he may.

[ his good hand slips into his jacket, pulls out a compact flashlight.

holds it out to Ptou, wordlessly. ]

[He takes it and looks at Chrysos for a long moment, turning the object over in his hands a few times.]

I doubt we'll have much of a grace period when I've turned it on, where should I be looking, my dear.

[ ...shakes his head and turns to the side, where the great branch slopes downwards at a moderate grade, the bark rough enough to afford ample footing for most. Which he employs, descending with the ease of practice, metal fingers occasionally touching the stone wall running alongside.

About a few metres down, and a dozen ahead, he stops again, figure still visible in the dim diffraction from the third floor's lighting. ]

Not from there. Here's the nearest vantage.

[It takes a moment... turning over thoughts about tone changes, but advancements, simple logic of the situation versus really NOT being fond of being outside this late, but... in the end, that's not THAT far, and certainly not entirely out of sight.]

You know, my ducky, we might need a talk about survival out here. In general, the 'out here,' bit of things.

[Still, he jumps down lightly, not commanded that severely by gravity... His senses spread out cautiously to the wind currents.]

...it need not take long.

[ the night seems quiet for the most part, the breeze from before still rustling through the leaves, the gaps in twigs and branches, swaying vines here and there... nothing animal in movement.

he reaches for the part of his belt behind him and casually tugs out a heavy handgun, incongruous in design compared to the metal hand holding it, and looks out at a certain spot in the darkness below... though from the slight cock of his head, now and again, he seems to be concentrating on the night's sounds. ]

[Too many disassociated statements, too many diversions. Something's way too many ways of not right and it's just piling up.

There's a moment, deep breath, where he considers the noble and dignified route... nope. Not when there are so many unknown elements.]

[He looks back up at the window and tosses the flashlight back, casually.]

I think, my taciturn companion, even should I explore much, there will be better light in the day, and far less risk to us both.

Lets revisit this in the morning.

[ ...turns and catches it in his free hand, looking at Ptou... he glances out at the night again, for a moment.

there's a slow exhale, both hands lowering to his sides. ]

...aah. ...I'm not sure what I was thinking, at this hour.

[ there's... a tired, wry note in those words, as he makes to walk up the branch again. Tucks the flashlight back into his jacket, absently. ]

Edited 2012-09-25 05:24 (UTC)

[And something in Ptou's posture changes, not quite relaxing, but settling. He runs his fingers through his hair, a faint shake of his head.]

I couldn't answer, but we may put it up to stress and exhaustion. You seem to have both in high amounts.

[He nods as Chrysos approaches, stepping back to make way for the trunk.] Go first, it may be quite utterly unnecessary, but it is far easier to catch someone from this angle.

Edited 2012-09-25 05:32 (UTC)

...far better to be overcautious.

[ swaps the gun over to his good hand as he approaches, testing its weight and grip in that hand. His eyes glancing at Ptou as he steps back, then on the path up to the main doors, taking it at a steady walk. ]

[ and as Chrys's shadow falls over his---

--cold hard metal wraps tight around Ptou's throat and pulls, slamming him down to the ancient bark with all the force of their combined weight. ]

[He had, actually, been preparing. Expecting the gun instead, he'd weighed the options, gravity or wind or just transforming to run.

Completely unprepared for real pain, the impact knocks the wind out of him, sending brilliant starbursts behind his eyes. The hands that reach up to circle the metal wrist have utterly nothing to do with conscious thought, all in reflex and instinct and some part of him scrambles to figure out what happened.]

[ there's a second impact of hard knee digging into Ptou's gut, the press of gunbarrel against his right temple as metal digits squeeze heedless of the flesh ones plucking at them, enough to throttle and bruise but not quite enough to crush, not yet.

Warm breath inches above his face, and murmured words, in the same deadly calm that once wrapped them in Games long past, ones where pale hands and body and golden hair left yet dyed in the red of others. ]

Cast, turn, speak a Word, and I end you.

[It should have been a scream. There was some terrible, clear side of Ptou's consciousness that derided that pathetic sound that was ripped out of his lungs at the second impact.

The former god's face is blotchy with pain around the deathly pallor, and expression an unflattering portrait of agony. Eyes screwed shut, hands clenching convulsively on the metal arm, swallowing hard between desperate gasps of air.

It takes a while, seconds bleed into minutes before Chrysos' words seems to filter through the kaleidoscope of reds and blacks... Even then, it's just barely a nod.]

...good.

[ the grip relaxes a fraction, just enough to let shallow breath pass. His face shadowed from this angle, it's hard to make out his expression, even if you could see enough right now. ]

So.

Like him, you Command.

[There isn't shock, but there IS realization on Ptou's face. The 'Oh' he mouths can't really be mistaken for the other shallow gasps for air... and the eyes that flutter open again to squint at Chrysos are sharp and clear.

His hands drop, sliding nervelessly to his side, even as he struggles to answer, a wheeze catching on the vocal cords.

...

He closes his eyes and nods instead, again, faintly.]

Edited 2012-09-25 12:52 (UTC)

...aah, even in guise of a man....

[ his head shakes slowly, words breathed out to the night... resignedly, almost. ]

Of course, of course... for words and names and Words and Names have ever been his, why should it not as well...

[ leans in closer, their foreheads almost touching, blue eyes seeming to watch a point beyond Ptou's face... fingers tightening ever so slightly. His voice yet even, neutral, as though he were asking of the time of day. ]

Shall I silence the voice, that wields such Words? Shall I not?

One would think, it would be better a thing not lingering long, in this new life.

[It's not the precious air being cut off again. It's not the way he can't even swallow anymore with the pressure beginning to mount at his abused neck. It isn't how the knee crushes into his gut further as he leans closer.

It's always the words. Always the words. It rips back the muddling haze of misery and agony, burying it under adrenaline and a very specific terror.

The body goes rigid beneath Chrysos. Heedless of the pinch of mechanical digits, he shakes his head, now frantic, his hands coming up to drag and pull at the mechanic's shirt.]

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