@cybled ; his solar light bleeds into the spaces between the weave and weft of dark matter, the power of it so like the gravity of the sun. it makes her heart ache in a dim and distant way for that light again, for the feel of a hammer in her hands and flame against her skin. she stifles it. there are more important matters at hand. ‘you have great potential guardian. your power is merciless. but the scale will tip against you if you do not find balance. let us show you the prophecy.’
from what he’s heard about them. about the nine. shin thinks that they should know his... status. that they should know he isn’t one of the traveler’s puppets or that he doesn’t follow the path of a guardian. kills them, sure. when they cross that line. when he doesn’t have a choice but to spare them two bullets each. one for their ghost and one firmly between the eyes. maybe there are things they don’t know. maybe the legends of the man with the golden gun didn’t spread as far as he’d thought. maybe he’s just shin to her. to them. because shin knows there’s something bigger here. knows it as sure as her voice echoes in his head as expression twists behind mirrored visor. hand lingers near the last word. doesn’t know if bullets work on them. but that doesn’t matter. wouldn’t hurt to try.
but that word. prophecy. that gets his attention. that has golden hues hardening as they narrow in her direction, as shin stiffens. he was ready to tell her to find a real guardian. to tell her that he’s not interested in what they want to know. that his potential is nothing of her concern if she’s just here to tell him things he doesn’t need to know. but that gets his attention. that piques the renegade’s curiosity. the same burning feeling beneath his skin that never seemed to quit no matter how much he found out or how many bullets he planted in the skulls of those too close to dredgen.
everything else in his life has been decided for him. what else could he have taken away from him?
if he were more arrogant he’d scoff, hide it behind muted vocaliser and see how long she’ll stand there waiting for a response of some kind. but, prim and proper tones find his auds and shin sighs. of course celia wants to know. always wanting a story. wanting information. same as jaren that way, he thinks. voice is low, dangerous, but he doubts she finds it so. maybe it’s more just instinct at this point. “i got things ta be doin’. guardian’s ‘re in tha’ direction. under the glowin’ watcher in th’ sky.”