#agent-swift

      Targent? That sounded familiar. He’d heard that mentioned before, by Mr. Jean, right? Oh well! Maybe it didn’t matter so much.

Baruch hadn’t planned on running into Swift. Ever. Upon seeing him, the boy could actually feel his heart rate speed up and an urge to run away build in his chest. He couldn’t do that, though! Mostly because he had trouble running, but also because he didn’t want to seem suspicious. Or rude! 

“ ...uh....um- ”

[ It’s his own fault for getting cocky enough to return to the Nest with no real objective - just a non-specific list of questions he needed answers to. ]

[ The scent of blood hangs thick in the air as Jean bursts around a corner, dishevelled and soaked with rain, desperate to get anywhere that isn’t here. His coat is black enough and buttoned up enough to make the source of the smell impossible to detect, but the way his arm crosses over to let his hand press against his side is evidence enough. He’s not hurt enough to stop him from trying to run, though, evidently. ]

[ But he makes the mistake of turning into a passage barely wide enough to house one person, and finds his way obstructed by a figure he can’t quite make out. No sound of footfalls pursues him. ]

“Makes you my new problem.”

You better believe

[continued from here]

“No. Just staring, Thought you looked familiar.” He shoves his hair out of the way and continues looking down his nose.

I’d like it if you stopped staring.

You thought wrong.