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Feb. 29th, 2004 12:35 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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xp_logsAnother snippet from the evening at Selene's. Shinobi heeds Emma's call for assistance, and has to hop past a small stepping stone on his way into the house.
There would be other opportunities to catch up with Tessa.
Shinobi had been lucky - Emma's telepathic correspondance had come just as the last of the several dances he'd been coerced into was coming to a close, so his newfound need to take his leave did not seem too abrupt, and came with an air-tight excuse. All that dancing, after all, tends to take it out of a guy. Sarah had already heeded Emma's summons, it seemed, so after he and Tessa exchanged their fond goodbyes, he turned to casually make his way off.
With the collected works of Machiavelli safely tucked away in his jacket's interior pocket, he calmly made his way further inside, watching for his comrades - his friends - out of the corner of his eye. He was distracted, however, as a man his memory identified as one of Selene's guards stepped out in front of him as he ascended the stairs.
Finally.
The guard barely even had a chance to draw his weapon before the much younger man had surged forward. Knowing he wouldn't have time to pop off a shot and have a snowball's chance in hell of hitting anything, he instead swung the butt of the pistol towards the inbound boy's temple - and as it passed through as though nothing was there, a wicked smile curved Shinobi's lips, his dark, almond-shaped eyes transfixed on a space below the guard's collarbone. Confused, the guard followed the Shaw's gaze.
The White Bishop's hand had been swallowed up to the wrist by his own chest, and as he looked up again, his eyes momentarily widened before he suddenly felt oh, so heavy. The pistol clattered to the floor as the guard's hands clutched at his heart, mouth forming words that didn't make it past his throat, and he sunk down to the floor, which was much softer than he thought possible. Softer, even, than his own bed. Selene must keep it a secret, how comfortable and soft her floors are, to keep people from just laying down willy-nilly about her estate. Surely, she would forgive him for one, quick little nap..
And as the guard gasped his last, Shinobi allowed himself a smirk of pure satisfaction before he stepped over the newly deceased man, and continued on his way into the estate, focused rather intently on reaching his goal.
It hadn't been a fluke after all.
How nice to know.
There would be other opportunities to catch up with Tessa.
Shinobi had been lucky - Emma's telepathic correspondance had come just as the last of the several dances he'd been coerced into was coming to a close, so his newfound need to take his leave did not seem too abrupt, and came with an air-tight excuse. All that dancing, after all, tends to take it out of a guy. Sarah had already heeded Emma's summons, it seemed, so after he and Tessa exchanged their fond goodbyes, he turned to casually make his way off.
With the collected works of Machiavelli safely tucked away in his jacket's interior pocket, he calmly made his way further inside, watching for his comrades - his friends - out of the corner of his eye. He was distracted, however, as a man his memory identified as one of Selene's guards stepped out in front of him as he ascended the stairs.
Finally.
The guard barely even had a chance to draw his weapon before the much younger man had surged forward. Knowing he wouldn't have time to pop off a shot and have a snowball's chance in hell of hitting anything, he instead swung the butt of the pistol towards the inbound boy's temple - and as it passed through as though nothing was there, a wicked smile curved Shinobi's lips, his dark, almond-shaped eyes transfixed on a space below the guard's collarbone. Confused, the guard followed the Shaw's gaze.
The White Bishop's hand had been swallowed up to the wrist by his own chest, and as he looked up again, his eyes momentarily widened before he suddenly felt oh, so heavy. The pistol clattered to the floor as the guard's hands clutched at his heart, mouth forming words that didn't make it past his throat, and he sunk down to the floor, which was much softer than he thought possible. Softer, even, than his own bed. Selene must keep it a secret, how comfortable and soft her floors are, to keep people from just laying down willy-nilly about her estate. Surely, she would forgive him for one, quick little nap..
And as the guard gasped his last, Shinobi allowed himself a smirk of pure satisfaction before he stepped over the newly deceased man, and continued on his way into the estate, focused rather intently on reaching his goal.
It hadn't been a fluke after all.
How nice to know.
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