blues, pinks, blacks, and gold
Even with his senses heightened and powers working overdrive, the sights and sounds of Terian & Daughter were as familiar as ever. The florescent lights and usually soft muzak washed over him painfully but provided a certain comfort he was often not afforded on a hunt. The smells of sacred incense, waiting to be blessed, slammed into him and his nose scrunched and his eyes watered as he attempted to lessen the impact. A snap drew his attention to the elf behind the register, her head was buried in a book and her ever present gum was being drawn back into her mouth after what looked like a particularly impressive bubble had popped.
Waves of blue and green swirled around her, in constant motion, constant change, much like her tattoos should have been. Blues and greens were standard for her people but her’s should not have been as bright as they are, this far from the coast. She had always been an anomaly. He shifted and that seemed to draw her attention. She turned to look at him and her blues and green became brighter, matching the grin on her face as she saw it was him.
“Father Matt! You haven’t been in in a while, have you- Oh.” Her voice lowered significantly. “You’re hunting. Damn, your eyes.” He didn’t have it in him to respond at the moment, momentarily overwhelmed, so he just smiled as best he could and moved on.
The aisles provided some relief from the intensity of the shop but that quickly dissolved as he drew closer to the crashes and bangs that always filled the back half. He saw the reds and pinks and oranges that crackled and danced before he saw their owner. The fairy boy spun and danced behind the counter, weaving his way in between his equipment. Nothing out of the ordinary, best move on before the boy noticed him and got to talking.
The air began to settle the closer he got to her office. She had that affect everywhere she went, striking fear into those who didn’t know her. If he was tracking the quarry he thought he was, it wouldn’t dare try and best her. The black that smoldered and burned around her proved him right. Nothing but the most daring or idiotic would mess with her.
So he moved on, the lights and smells and sounds beginning to overwhelm once more. He searched desperately for gold, the same gold he carried. Up and down and up again until there, the gold. But it was wrong, tarnished and battered more than it already was, sick and dying. The gold should have been falling gently around the nephilim but instead it stood frozen and controlled. The rage that he would have felt was quickly pushed aside in favor of something more useful. His quarry had been found and his quarry had miscalculated. It would have been far wiser for it to try and take the Manager. It would wish it had tried to best the Manager.
