Dr. Edmund Thompson
Thompson put off doing the spell as long as he could; it took a massive amount of energy, after all, and his supply of water from a cave in Cornwall and his jar of viscous red-black ichor weren't infinite. He assumed it wouldn't be long before he heard stirrings from Wakanda, one way or the other, but there was nothing. Silence. He had to know.
He crept down the cellar steps - the cellar at his actual home, not the rented flophouse where he'd been keeping his pet soldier - and entered his study, scarcely even noticing the grandeur of his surroundings, intent as he was on his work. He placed the basin on its pedestal, poured a thin layer of water, and then carefully measured out a few tiny red drops, scarcely breathing as he did so, intent upon not wasting so much as a molecule. The water/mirror shimmered, then darkened, and Thompson peered into it.
The soldier was asleep. Had the spell not been so targeted, Thompson wouldn't even have been able to tell it was the soldier - the man was completely cocooned in blankets, wrapped tightly with even his head covered, but the spell knew who it was. Thompson wasn't entirely surprised - it was night in Wakanda, after all - but he remained concerned. His former pet was strengthening.
Thompson waved his hands over the surface of the water, shifting the view, trying to see the rest of the room. There wasn't much to see; it was just a nicely appointed Wakandan hut. It didn't tell Thompson much... but it did tell him a few things. There was no one else in the room; the soldier was not under guard. The door locked from the inside. Thompson couldn't be positive - he couldn't see the other side of the door - but it did not appear his man was imprisoned or otherwise detained. It appeared he could leave if he wanted to.
Which meant he didn't want to.
Damn.
The hut was nice. Very nice. Not large, but comparable to Thompson's own home in comfort. Someone was paying for that, and the soldier - Thompson couldn't remember his original name - Ethan? Probably Ethan. Ethan didn't have any money. He could have managed to stow aboard a plane somehow. Maybe? Possibly? But this... this was more than just a place to squat during a mission.
That meant that the soldier's original quarries were still helping him.
Double damn.
This was going to make what Thompson had to do much harder.
He had finally decided on a course of action, though. It was a waste, but the soldier was going to have to be killed. Originally, Thompson had considered trying to take him back - if he could incapacitate him, he could carve the runes again, and this little misadventure could be forgotten. Thompson wasn't sure that was going to be possible, though. The soldier might be too strong to be controlled now.
And with the wild card of the blood transfusion from both the superhero and the super soldier? Thompson didn't know what that was going to do. It was too much of a risk. All that work ruined... but this one had to die. Once that loose end was tied up, Thompson would find another candidate and start over.
Killing him might be easier said than done, though - that realization dawned on Thompson as he looked around the room where the soldier slept, snug as a bug in a rug, so to speak. He had to either separate the soldier from his new companions, or find some of his own. For the moment, the former plan seemed more straightforward.
There was little he could do while they were in Wakanda. The Wakandan authorities had undoubtedly been instructed to keep a lookout for him, and being deported upon arrival - or worse, ending up in a cell - would take too much time at best, and could bring everything crashing down at worst. All he could do was wait.
Well, there was one more thing. Perhaps he could lay some groundwork in the meantime...
***
"Jameson Bryant? Mr. Stalwart?"
"Yes, that's me."
"Package for you, sir."
"Uh. Okay. Thanks. Do you know who it’s from?”
“No return address listed, sir.”
Jameson wasn't expecting anything in the mail, and not many people knew he was in Wakanda. What could this be? He opened the parcel gingerly, in case it was something dangerous...
It was a book. Specifically, what appeared to be a cheap school edition of a children's book titled The Further Legends of Great Britain. There was a particular chapter marked with a red ribbon. Jameson opened to that page, and read the chapter title out loud: "Maud and the Wyvern.”
Jameson skimmed the story. An innocent young girl named Maud had taken in a baby dragon and befriended it, feeding it milk and raising it as a pet, but when the dragon reached adulthood, it began terrorizing livestock and eventually eating the townspeople, until it was slain by the valiant Sir Garstone, leaving Maud mourning her ‘pet,’ whose true nature she could never accept even after the creature’s death.
Jameson was silent for a moment.
“... ‘Kay,” he finally said. He passed the book to Maureen. “Do you see the point of this?”
Maureen read over it too, then shook her head. “Nope. I honestly don’t. It’s a pretty sad story. But why was this so important that someone tracked you down in Wakanda over it?”
That was a great question, for which Jameson had no answer.
The Golden City
Re: The Golden City
Cait McIvor
She took his hand gratefully, remaining seated where she was. Unsure of what was going to happen next. She cared about what Marshal's reply might be. Cared deeply. A chill crept down her spine, not from the cool night air, but fear that she was going to lose out on the best thing to happen to her in centuries.
Then he spoke and she couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh. She hadn't realized just how badly she was hoping for a positive reply from Marshal. A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled at him, squeezing his hand and slowly swinging it back and forth.
"Yeah. I would like that. Very much. And yeah, I don't need physical to have a full relationship - I mean, do like holding your hand. I hope we can keep doing this. As we get to know each other better. I want that kind of all-in relationship with you, Marshal. Yeah, I do."
That joy of Marshal's was rubbing off - or maybe it was some of her own that made her feel this...brightness.Still holding his hand, she stood in a fluid motion and shifted her hand to place her fingers between his.
"If I had known this century was going to be this good, I would have been a bit more excited to be born again. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of it with you."
She took his hand gratefully, remaining seated where she was. Unsure of what was going to happen next. She cared about what Marshal's reply might be. Cared deeply. A chill crept down her spine, not from the cool night air, but fear that she was going to lose out on the best thing to happen to her in centuries.
Then he spoke and she couldn't help but let out a relieved laugh. She hadn't realized just how badly she was hoping for a positive reply from Marshal. A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled at him, squeezing his hand and slowly swinging it back and forth.
"Yeah. I would like that. Very much. And yeah, I don't need physical to have a full relationship - I mean, do like holding your hand. I hope we can keep doing this. As we get to know each other better. I want that kind of all-in relationship with you, Marshal. Yeah, I do."
That joy of Marshal's was rubbing off - or maybe it was some of her own that made her feel this...brightness.Still holding his hand, she stood in a fluid motion and shifted her hand to place her fingers between his.
"If I had known this century was going to be this good, I would have been a bit more excited to be born again. I'm looking forward to spending the rest of it with you."
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 847
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Marshal Knox
I'm looking forward to spending the rest of it with you.
Those words echoed in his brain. Spending it with him. She wanted to spend it with him. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted it to last. That was good. Very good. Marshal found himself grinning like a fool.
He squeezed Cait's hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed it. That felt like a thing he could do now. No secret crush anymore. This new relationship didn't feel scary. He felt... even freer, somehow. He hadn't realized freer was even a possibility.
"Yes," he said. "We can keep doing this. I like holding your hand, too, and I... I want to be clear. I'm not saying I don't want a physical relationship with you. I do. Just... things happening when the time is right. When we both feel ready."
He took a deep breath. He needed to admit some things: some things she might know, some things she had probably guessed, some things that were new. He wasn't scared to say it anymore, though.
"You know a lot of what happened with HYDRA, but there was... uh... there was some sexual abuse, too. Not many people know about that. Just my brother, and... I told Ginny, because she was my therapist and I was trying to get better, but she used it to hurt me too. For a long time, I was really lonely. I just wanted to connect with someone, and I thought... I thought having sex was the way to buy love. So I did too much, too fast, and it didn't work out. I ended up lonelier than ever. And I..."
He smiled at her. "I'm not worried about that with you. I feel safe with you. I trust you. But I want to do things in the right way with you. I want to do things at the right time. And we're not in a rush, right? We don't need to be in a rush. I'm yours now. For as long as you'll have me. We have a whole lifetime for this. Could I... maybe kiss you?"
If she said yes, his kiss would be soft and gentle, but full of all the emotion he felt.
I'm looking forward to spending the rest of it with you.
Those words echoed in his brain. Spending it with him. She wanted to spend it with him. She wanted to stay with him. She wanted it to last. That was good. Very good. Marshal found himself grinning like a fool.
He squeezed Cait's hand, then brought it to his lips and kissed it. That felt like a thing he could do now. No secret crush anymore. This new relationship didn't feel scary. He felt... even freer, somehow. He hadn't realized freer was even a possibility.
"Yes," he said. "We can keep doing this. I like holding your hand, too, and I... I want to be clear. I'm not saying I don't want a physical relationship with you. I do. Just... things happening when the time is right. When we both feel ready."
He took a deep breath. He needed to admit some things: some things she might know, some things she had probably guessed, some things that were new. He wasn't scared to say it anymore, though.
"You know a lot of what happened with HYDRA, but there was... uh... there was some sexual abuse, too. Not many people know about that. Just my brother, and... I told Ginny, because she was my therapist and I was trying to get better, but she used it to hurt me too. For a long time, I was really lonely. I just wanted to connect with someone, and I thought... I thought having sex was the way to buy love. So I did too much, too fast, and it didn't work out. I ended up lonelier than ever. And I..."
He smiled at her. "I'm not worried about that with you. I feel safe with you. I trust you. But I want to do things in the right way with you. I want to do things at the right time. And we're not in a rush, right? We don't need to be in a rush. I'm yours now. For as long as you'll have me. We have a whole lifetime for this. Could I... maybe kiss you?"
If she said yes, his kiss would be soft and gentle, but full of all the emotion he felt.
Re: The Golden City
Cait McIvor
In a lot of ways Marshal was not her usual type, though if she were honest with herself, he was precisely the type she truly desired. The kind of man who wouldn't be gone in the morning. Who wasn't interested in only the 'take' part of a relationship. Someone with depths she actually wanted to explore.
When he mentioned the abuse, Cait wasn't surprised. It took some force of will to ignore that part of her who wanted time travel to exist simply for the pleasure of getting to take Ginny's life herself. To spare Marshal the harm that woman inflicted on him. Fantasy, that. Why chase an impossibility when the future was in front of both of them? An equally impossible future, with so much more going for it.
"Same here, Marshal. I have gone through so many years never finding anyone to confide in. To share any vulnerability with. I've looked for connection in all the wrong places. But also same as you - I feel safe with you too. No rush. No reason for it. You and I have all the time in the world."
And in answer, she simply stood on tiptoe and leaned forward to meet him with a kiss.
In a lot of ways Marshal was not her usual type, though if she were honest with herself, he was precisely the type she truly desired. The kind of man who wouldn't be gone in the morning. Who wasn't interested in only the 'take' part of a relationship. Someone with depths she actually wanted to explore.
When he mentioned the abuse, Cait wasn't surprised. It took some force of will to ignore that part of her who wanted time travel to exist simply for the pleasure of getting to take Ginny's life herself. To spare Marshal the harm that woman inflicted on him. Fantasy, that. Why chase an impossibility when the future was in front of both of them? An equally impossible future, with so much more going for it.
"Same here, Marshal. I have gone through so many years never finding anyone to confide in. To share any vulnerability with. I've looked for connection in all the wrong places. But also same as you - I feel safe with you too. No rush. No reason for it. You and I have all the time in the world."
And in answer, she simply stood on tiptoe and leaned forward to meet him with a kiss.
-
Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 847
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Marshal Knox
With the kiss, Marshal was in heaven. It wasn't his first kiss - not by any means - but it felt different. There was passion, but without the desperation of something to prove. This kiss was a promise, not a plea. A promise that he was hers, and he was committing to building a relationship with her.
He was glad she wasn't mad at him for being abused. Not that he had thought she would be. Up till recently, he had always assumed that what had been done to him meant he could never be wanted. Not unless he kept it a secret, at least. But his conversation with his brother - knowing that Maureen accepted and still loved Jameson - had given him some courage, and his trust in Cait had done the rest. He had been a little nervous to tell her, sure. But not as terrified as he had expected to be. He really did feel safe with Cait.
He didn't ask if their relationship was exclusive - to him, that went without saying. He didn't want anyone else. Only her.
Reluctantly, he had to admit that it was starting to get really late. They should probably head back.
He knew he was right that they shouldn't rush a physical relationship. That it was best to take things at a natural pace. But there were things he wished for. Falling asleep beside her, feeling her warmth, her face the first thing he saw when he woke up. Someday. Maybe she would want to snuggle with him...
Maybe someday I'll hear her tell me she loves me...
That thought made him smile.
"For now, though, I guess we should head back and get some sleep. Wanna be my breakfast date?"
Of course, breakfast was going to be a group affair before they headed back to the city, either way. But it was confirmation that they were still going to be together in the morning. That she didn't want to keep this a secret. That they could just... be.
He walked her back to the hut she was staying in - not that she needed his protection or anything, she could take care of herself, but it gave him an excuse to spend a little more time with her. He kissed her goodnight at the door, then returned to his own quarters with a huge smile on his face.
I have a girlfriend...
For the first time since HYDRA, he didn't have any bad dreams.
***
Jameson and Maureen were first to breakfast, after a morning run (for him) and yoga session (for her.)
Aidan wandered in shortly after. The young man was still quiet, but he was showing up regularly for meals. He clutched his water bottle and slept with the covers over his head, but he was also painting up a storm, and would let them touch him enough to change his bandages. Progress. Aidan always seemed to stick close to the group; by now, he had broken his mental control enough that he probably didn't have to. He was here by choice. Because he knew he was safe. And Jameson, Maureen, and Marshal were glad of that.
Jameson was a little startled that Marshal and Cait wandered in holding hands. He was still adjusting to her rapid age change. Once he grasped the situation, though, Jameson smiled. He thought Cait was a good choice for his brother. She seemed protective of Marshal. Just as Jameson was. The more people looking out for him, the better.
"Congrats," he told the two of them casually as he passed around the tea cakes.
With the kiss, Marshal was in heaven. It wasn't his first kiss - not by any means - but it felt different. There was passion, but without the desperation of something to prove. This kiss was a promise, not a plea. A promise that he was hers, and he was committing to building a relationship with her.
He was glad she wasn't mad at him for being abused. Not that he had thought she would be. Up till recently, he had always assumed that what had been done to him meant he could never be wanted. Not unless he kept it a secret, at least. But his conversation with his brother - knowing that Maureen accepted and still loved Jameson - had given him some courage, and his trust in Cait had done the rest. He had been a little nervous to tell her, sure. But not as terrified as he had expected to be. He really did feel safe with Cait.
He didn't ask if their relationship was exclusive - to him, that went without saying. He didn't want anyone else. Only her.
Reluctantly, he had to admit that it was starting to get really late. They should probably head back.
He knew he was right that they shouldn't rush a physical relationship. That it was best to take things at a natural pace. But there were things he wished for. Falling asleep beside her, feeling her warmth, her face the first thing he saw when he woke up. Someday. Maybe she would want to snuggle with him...
Maybe someday I'll hear her tell me she loves me...
That thought made him smile.
"For now, though, I guess we should head back and get some sleep. Wanna be my breakfast date?"
Of course, breakfast was going to be a group affair before they headed back to the city, either way. But it was confirmation that they were still going to be together in the morning. That she didn't want to keep this a secret. That they could just... be.
He walked her back to the hut she was staying in - not that she needed his protection or anything, she could take care of herself, but it gave him an excuse to spend a little more time with her. He kissed her goodnight at the door, then returned to his own quarters with a huge smile on his face.
I have a girlfriend...
For the first time since HYDRA, he didn't have any bad dreams.
***
Jameson and Maureen were first to breakfast, after a morning run (for him) and yoga session (for her.)
Aidan wandered in shortly after. The young man was still quiet, but he was showing up regularly for meals. He clutched his water bottle and slept with the covers over his head, but he was also painting up a storm, and would let them touch him enough to change his bandages. Progress. Aidan always seemed to stick close to the group; by now, he had broken his mental control enough that he probably didn't have to. He was here by choice. Because he knew he was safe. And Jameson, Maureen, and Marshal were glad of that.
Jameson was a little startled that Marshal and Cait wandered in holding hands. He was still adjusting to her rapid age change. Once he grasped the situation, though, Jameson smiled. He thought Cait was a good choice for his brother. She seemed protective of Marshal. Just as Jameson was. The more people looking out for him, the better.
"Congrats," he told the two of them casually as he passed around the tea cakes.
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Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 847
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Imiel
It was early morning - the girls weren't even up yet - but Imiel was sitting with a cup of coffee and checking his email. It was nice to get the day off to a relaxed start, before the hustle and bustle.
To his surprise, he saw that one of the unread emails was from his cousin Baros. Surprise... because Baros had been living in the colony on Tarnax IV before the destruction. Imiel had assumed he was dead. He opened the email with trembling fingers - and smiled with relief when he saw that Baros had been safely evacuated and was now living in New Asgard, here on Earth. Welcome news all around.
But the last sentence gave him pause.
You should come join us, Cousin. You'd like it here. Not to speak too soon, but I think it may finally be a truly safe place for Skrulls. Think it over.
Imiel felt like a hand had clenched around his heart.
He was tempted. It wasn't so much the promise of safety - he felt relatively safe here, under the watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D., even if the oversight could be annoying at times. What tempted him was the mention of other Skrulls. Of being with his own people. The fantasy of being able to show his true face, instead of the reality of hiding it here.
But that was selfish. Wasn't it? What kind of life was that for his daughters? There was no mention of any Kree there - nor would there be likely to be, if Skrulls were safe. What would it be like for two Kree children, growing up there? Would they be teased? Or worse? Skrull children tended to be, by necessity, hyperaware of the political situation their species was in in relation to the Kree. Would Annie and Mia grow up ashamed of their own DNA, if they moved to New Asgard?
And we have friends here.
That wasn't a small thing. It was incredibly important, in fact. The McIvors had said they were like family - and he and the girls were going to need a family. He was a single father. There were no prospects on the horizon for that to change. And, realistically, there probably never would be. He had known when he made the choice to walk between the Skrull and Kree worlds that he would be doing so alone. That was okay. Well... it was okay for him. Would it be okay for the girls? Surely they needed female role models too. Family.
Had they found that here?
Or was he throwing away an opportunity, only for them to end up alone here once everyone else moved on? Would his daughters be angry that he had denied them the chance to live among others who weren't from this planet, even if the other aliens looked different and the history between them was difficult?
Imiel wasn't sure what to do. He stared down into his now-empty coffee cup, paralyzed with indecision.
Well, there was no need for that. He didn't have to decide today. New Asgard would still be there in a week. Or a month. Or however long it took to figure out what was right.
It was early morning - the girls weren't even up yet - but Imiel was sitting with a cup of coffee and checking his email. It was nice to get the day off to a relaxed start, before the hustle and bustle.
To his surprise, he saw that one of the unread emails was from his cousin Baros. Surprise... because Baros had been living in the colony on Tarnax IV before the destruction. Imiel had assumed he was dead. He opened the email with trembling fingers - and smiled with relief when he saw that Baros had been safely evacuated and was now living in New Asgard, here on Earth. Welcome news all around.
But the last sentence gave him pause.
You should come join us, Cousin. You'd like it here. Not to speak too soon, but I think it may finally be a truly safe place for Skrulls. Think it over.
Imiel felt like a hand had clenched around his heart.
He was tempted. It wasn't so much the promise of safety - he felt relatively safe here, under the watchful eye of S.H.I.E.L.D., even if the oversight could be annoying at times. What tempted him was the mention of other Skrulls. Of being with his own people. The fantasy of being able to show his true face, instead of the reality of hiding it here.
But that was selfish. Wasn't it? What kind of life was that for his daughters? There was no mention of any Kree there - nor would there be likely to be, if Skrulls were safe. What would it be like for two Kree children, growing up there? Would they be teased? Or worse? Skrull children tended to be, by necessity, hyperaware of the political situation their species was in in relation to the Kree. Would Annie and Mia grow up ashamed of their own DNA, if they moved to New Asgard?
And we have friends here.
That wasn't a small thing. It was incredibly important, in fact. The McIvors had said they were like family - and he and the girls were going to need a family. He was a single father. There were no prospects on the horizon for that to change. And, realistically, there probably never would be. He had known when he made the choice to walk between the Skrull and Kree worlds that he would be doing so alone. That was okay. Well... it was okay for him. Would it be okay for the girls? Surely they needed female role models too. Family.
Had they found that here?
Or was he throwing away an opportunity, only for them to end up alone here once everyone else moved on? Would his daughters be angry that he had denied them the chance to live among others who weren't from this planet, even if the other aliens looked different and the history between them was difficult?
Imiel wasn't sure what to do. He stared down into his now-empty coffee cup, paralyzed with indecision.
Well, there was no need for that. He didn't have to decide today. New Asgard would still be there in a week. Or a month. Or however long it took to figure out what was right.
Re: The Golden City
Hooded people
The two robed people did not sit down, but one stayed at the door while the other stood in the sitting room. The latter removed his hood, revealing a head of dark hair, a tidy goatee and uncomfortably piercing grey eyes. Those eyes looked around the room before settling on Orla.
"Whether you meet the Mistress remains to be seen. Your son, has made a dangerous decision. He has allied himself with our Mistress' greatest enemy. One of the daughters of Arthur Pendragon, as a matter of fact. We were hoping that you might lend some..insight into their connection, but if you are estranged as you say, perhaps we needn't have bothered."
He flipped his hood up, then raised his hands, uttering some whispered words. Blue light came from his fingertips, flaring out into the room...but suddenly the light coalesced into ribbons and flowed into another room. His head turned to follow its movement and he paused for a moment before removing his hood once more.
"So...it seems that you practice the Art, Ms. Knox. Perhaps...perhaps you should tell us a little bit more about yourself, rather than your son."
The two robed people did not sit down, but one stayed at the door while the other stood in the sitting room. The latter removed his hood, revealing a head of dark hair, a tidy goatee and uncomfortably piercing grey eyes. Those eyes looked around the room before settling on Orla.
"Whether you meet the Mistress remains to be seen. Your son, has made a dangerous decision. He has allied himself with our Mistress' greatest enemy. One of the daughters of Arthur Pendragon, as a matter of fact. We were hoping that you might lend some..insight into their connection, but if you are estranged as you say, perhaps we needn't have bothered."
He flipped his hood up, then raised his hands, uttering some whispered words. Blue light came from his fingertips, flaring out into the room...but suddenly the light coalesced into ribbons and flowed into another room. His head turned to follow its movement and he paused for a moment before removing his hood once more.
"So...it seems that you practice the Art, Ms. Knox. Perhaps...perhaps you should tell us a little bit more about yourself, rather than your son."
-
Monkey Kitty
- Posts: 847
- Joined: Thu Oct 29, 2020 7:31 pm
Re: The Golden City
Orla Knox
In that moment, Orla desired to meet this mysterious mistress of theirs more than she desired anything in the world.
And somehow, as usual, her worthless son was ruining it for her. Just as he had ruined her entire life. What heights might she have reached, if he had never been born?
Well, the message here was clear enough. If she wanted to keep their attention - to gain the attention of their mistress - she had to chuck her son solidly under the bus.
"Marshal is a pathetic, rather desperate man," Orla said dismissively. "He probably latched onto the Pendragon girl because she was the only one who would have him. Typical of him. Embarrassingly eager for affection of any kind, as usual."
In a tone that seemed oddly like a friendly reminiscence, she added, "He's really always been like that. When Marshal was a little boy, he used to beg me to tell him that I loved him. And I always told him that I would love him when he became worthy of it. Eventually he stopped asking."
Orla smiled charmingly. "But enough about my idiot son. On to happier matters. I do fancy myself somewhat of a seer. Come into the other room, and I'll show you..."
With a theatrical flourish, she removed the lacey cover from her crystal ball. She concentrated, moving her long fingers with perfectly manicured nails just a fraction of an inch from the surface of the glass. "There it is. Here, I'll make it so you can see too..."
This took a slight trace of effort she couldn't quite hide, but after a couple of seconds, the surface of the sphere clouded.
Her divination naturally grounded upon a familiar subject. Her scorned lover's superhero son. And this particular scene included the woman he was currently toying with.
"...But let’s make it official," the woman said. "I love you so much. I don’t ever want to spend another day without you. So I’m asking… Jameson Bryant, will you marry me?”
Orla blushed crimson, full of secondhand embarrassment for the foolish girl - a girl who was currently reminding her a little too much of herself, back when she'd been madly in love with Artie Bryant - imagining that this selfish, arrogant man would ever love her back. Pathetic.
"Well, that's boring," Orla said, waving her hands to dismiss the vision. "Let's try something else. Ah. There we go. A dragon, hm? Perching on the awning of the Liberty Bank & Trust building? That's the future, you know. I'm showing you the future."
Although Orla hadn't seen this particular vision before - and wasn't quite sure what had caused it to surface now - it was indeed a dragon. The reptilian beast with green scales, iridescent purple wings, and dark eyes like deep pools indeed occupied the facade of a city building.
Cool!
"That's interesting, isn't it? A dragon? I think your mistress would be interested in the impending arrival of a dragon, don't you?"
In that moment, Orla desired to meet this mysterious mistress of theirs more than she desired anything in the world.
And somehow, as usual, her worthless son was ruining it for her. Just as he had ruined her entire life. What heights might she have reached, if he had never been born?
Well, the message here was clear enough. If she wanted to keep their attention - to gain the attention of their mistress - she had to chuck her son solidly under the bus.
"Marshal is a pathetic, rather desperate man," Orla said dismissively. "He probably latched onto the Pendragon girl because she was the only one who would have him. Typical of him. Embarrassingly eager for affection of any kind, as usual."
In a tone that seemed oddly like a friendly reminiscence, she added, "He's really always been like that. When Marshal was a little boy, he used to beg me to tell him that I loved him. And I always told him that I would love him when he became worthy of it. Eventually he stopped asking."
Orla smiled charmingly. "But enough about my idiot son. On to happier matters. I do fancy myself somewhat of a seer. Come into the other room, and I'll show you..."
With a theatrical flourish, she removed the lacey cover from her crystal ball. She concentrated, moving her long fingers with perfectly manicured nails just a fraction of an inch from the surface of the glass. "There it is. Here, I'll make it so you can see too..."
This took a slight trace of effort she couldn't quite hide, but after a couple of seconds, the surface of the sphere clouded.
Her divination naturally grounded upon a familiar subject. Her scorned lover's superhero son. And this particular scene included the woman he was currently toying with.
"...But let’s make it official," the woman said. "I love you so much. I don’t ever want to spend another day without you. So I’m asking… Jameson Bryant, will you marry me?”
Orla blushed crimson, full of secondhand embarrassment for the foolish girl - a girl who was currently reminding her a little too much of herself, back when she'd been madly in love with Artie Bryant - imagining that this selfish, arrogant man would ever love her back. Pathetic.
"Well, that's boring," Orla said, waving her hands to dismiss the vision. "Let's try something else. Ah. There we go. A dragon, hm? Perching on the awning of the Liberty Bank & Trust building? That's the future, you know. I'm showing you the future."
Although Orla hadn't seen this particular vision before - and wasn't quite sure what had caused it to surface now - it was indeed a dragon. The reptilian beast with green scales, iridescent purple wings, and dark eyes like deep pools indeed occupied the facade of a city building.
Cool!
"That's interesting, isn't it? A dragon? I think your mistress would be interested in the impending arrival of a dragon, don't you?"