#cerys-8

“Why, hello there, sister!” the Drifter exclaims as she strolls up, the man leaning casually against the railing, alone. “I’m glad to see ya. That was a good match ya just had." 

"Thanks,” Cerys says, acting relaxed. She isn’t very comfortable around the Drifter, always feeling nervous that he will try something on her like the stories people whisper about him in private, but she tries her best to act confident and relaxed nonetheless. “I’m just here to return my completed bounties, sir." 

"Ah, kid, you know you don’t need to call me that,” Drifter plays, waving a hand at the remark. “I ain’t no ‘sir.’ I’m just tryin’ ta help younger Guardians like yourself learn the ropes of the real world. And I’m sure glad you’re on my side.” He has a small, dangerous glint in his eye and undertone in his voice when he says that last bit, but Cerys chooses to ignore it. As best as she can, anyway.

Stay cool, stay cool. Just turn in the bounties and go. She can feel Pepin shudder, trying to hide even more. 

“And I appreciate what you’ve taught me,” Cerys says, trying to awkwardly play along. She isn’t good at this like the ancient Guardian in front of her, but she still tries her best. “Many of us Guardians are appreciative of that, even those who didn’t side with you." 

"Heh, yeaaah, it’s unfortunate that those kids strayed, but at least most of ‘em learned something from old Drifter,” he says, looking at the floor as he continues to casually lean. After a moment, he looks back up at Cerys. “That reminds me. Remember who you sided with." 

"Uh, of course,” Cerys says, startled. “I sided with you, Drifter." 

"Oh, I know,” he says, pushing off from the rail. Venom tips his voice, and Cerys can feel it’s sting. “But I’m watchin’ you. Seeing what you do, hearing what ya say. I have an eye on everyone, even out of Gambit." 

"I’m sorry?” Cerys can feel Pepin wishing he could pull her out of the room, because man is he terrified. He isn’t the only one.

Stay cool, stay cool. This is confusing, but stay cool. 

“You’re young, and you’re not dumb. But sometimes you aren’t too careful when you run your mouth.” The Drifter casual slides up to Cerys, getting within feet of her. 

She steps a foot back. She can resist the urge to grab her Crimson and aim it at his weasel head, but it’s taking a lot of courage to not run. Drifter only laughs and leans back a bit, trying to act like its all casual despite his tone. That only makes a chill run down Cerys’ exo spine. His smile made of all teeth isn’t helping. 

“You’re a warlock. You’re smart. And I like that about you, kid. I really do! But you’re also nosy, too curious for your own good, poking in places you don’t belong,” he hisses, his voice growing more quiet and harsh. Yet somehow, he still sounds casual. How does he do that? 

Cerys has no idea what to say, how to react. Her face is slack, mouth open slightly, eyes wide. She can’t move it to say anything, she can’t look away from the snake in front of her. Pepin is trying not to scream in fear and anger. 

“It wouldn’t be so bad if you kept what you found to yourself, but when you run your mouth to others in excitement?” Drifter makes a sad smile and shakes his head, chuckling low, looking down at the floor as he does it before looking back at her with fire in his eyes. His tone has gotten worse. “That only makes it worse. Especially for you. Harder to trust you. You get what I’m sayin’, Cerys? I wouldn’t want to give you a snitch’s treatment, and I doubt you’d want it either." 

"Oh, and that pistol won’t do shit against me." 

Cerys hadn’t even realized that she had pulled her Crimson off her back, holding it at her thigh. She glances at it for a second before looking back at the Drifter, but she doesn’t holster it again. She just can’t. 

The Drifter smiles into her soul, all teeth and venom. 

Cerys can only stare back, eyes wider than before, horrified as ever. She’s rarely felt this much dread in her life, and she can’t even move to get away from it. He has her rooted to the spot. 

Suddenly, the Drifter’s whole stance and mood changes. He straights, softens, relaxes. Becomes a whole new man in the smallest fraction of a second. Or, well, back to his old self rather than the demon he was a moment ago. Cerys doesn’t move except to follow him with her eyes, and his sudden change startles her further. 

"Hey, brother! How’s it going?” he says over her shoulder, taking a few steps back to his original spot, leaning on the rail again like nothing happened. 

A hunter walks past Cerys to the Drifter, giving his own greeting, apparently entirely unaware of what just happened. Cerys was so snared by fear and the Drifter that she didn’t even see or hear him enter the room. 

She’s lucky that wasn’t someone he sent to end her right them and there. 

After a moment of the Drifter chatting away with the Hunter without paying her any mind, Cerys finally feels able to move. She slowly turns and starts to move out of the room in a jerky fashion, her eyes still wide and jaw slightly slack. Her pistol still in her hand. She can’t let it go yet. 

Before she leaves the Drifter’s hide out entirely, she turns half way to look back at him again, just a quick look. The hunter I still there, the two still chatting. But the Drifter looks up for one moment, making eye contact with Cerys. His expression doesn’t change, but his eyes fill with venomous fire for a moment, words behind the blaze. Cerys doesn’t know what words, but she somehow knows what they’re trying to say, and her soul is filled with dread again at the warning. She’s almost expecting to die on the spot.