Shimmer. [With a capital “S.” The rocket in the rubble demonstrates, pulsing purple through metallic veins. Caitlyn aims—but when it doesn’t move (and it won’t, ever again), she continues.]
[Finally, Caitlyn’s attention leaves broken surroundings that aren’t moving; refocuses on the speaker. She does look mildly annoyed by the interruption.
She wasn’t born with them. [Piltover doesn’t (knowingly!) house mages.] But she doesn’t work alone.
[There are two assumptions here, one more well-founded than the other. Caitlyn regards both with the same weight. But with no sign of the monster or any stray blues in the area (a clear coast that Flawless would confirm), she nods towards the large doors in the back—a silent invitation to move elsewhere. Talking here has never appealed to Caitlyn.]
[The signal is taken, easily agreed upon. Oda wants nothing but to work together. They start moving back toward those doors, his gun poised low at his side.]
[Ah. Well, he can't blame her if she's really never heard of skill users, but he also can't imagine anyone where he comes from not knowing about them. He shakes his head.]
You're thinking too narrow. Anyone can be born with one of these abilities. It's only a small percentage of the population, but they definitely aren't all working together.
[There's one beat of quiet as they pass through a doorway.]
[“You’re thinking too narrow,” and it’s fortunate he keeps talking before Caitlyn can open her mouth about it.
[The explanations—their simple clarity, their very necessity—make clear that, whichever population he speaks of, it’s not one Caitlyn has been aware of. New information, mentally catalogued. (See? Not narrow thinking, thanks.) They keep moving.
[Through the doors: a long, echoing space, barely discernible as a hallway. Pitch black. Electric lighting, too, seems to be a foreign concept to this place. But with the rubble behind them, Caitlyn steps boldly forward, positioning herself ahead of Oda if he allows. This, she knows how to navigate.]
Outside. [Quiet, over her shoulder, and then she’s off. Unless Oda hesitates, they’ll talk more elsewhere.]
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pantheraliam) wrote2030-03-12 03:03 pm
cw drugs…? vaguely.
Shimmer. [With a capital “S.” The rocket in the rubble demonstrates, pulsing purple through metallic veins. Caitlyn aims—but when it doesn’t move (and it won’t, ever again), she continues.]
Just a shot. It—does things to people, corrupts.
[It saved her.]
She shouldn’t be alive.
no subject
Some kind of drug allowed her to bring us here?
You know what I mean when I say "skill user," don't you?
no subject
[Finally, Caitlyn’s attention leaves broken surroundings that aren’t moving; refocuses on the speaker. She does look mildly annoyed by the interruption.
[But she’ll let him elaborate. The answer is no.]
no subject
Humans with special abilities. You might think of them like superpowers.
Does the person you're talking about fit that description? If not, we've got more than just her to worry about.
no subject
She wasn’t born with them. [Piltover doesn’t (knowingly!) house mages.] But she doesn’t work alone.
[There are two assumptions here, one more well-founded than the other. Caitlyn regards both with the same weight. But with no sign of the monster or any stray blues in the area (a clear coast that Flawless would confirm), she nods towards the large doors in the back—a silent invitation to move elsewhere. Talking here has never appealed to Caitlyn.]
Who are these humans? Are they aligned?
no subject
Aligned. What do you mean by that?
no subject
Working in tandem. Towards the same goal. [Not necessarily synonymous.]
no subject
You're thinking too narrow. Anyone can be born with one of these abilities. It's only a small percentage of the population, but they definitely aren't all working together.
[There's one beat of quiet as they pass through a doorway.]
Some do, though. They could be now.
no subject
[“You’re thinking too narrow,” and it’s fortunate he keeps talking before Caitlyn can open her mouth about it.
[The explanations—their simple clarity, their very necessity—make clear that, whichever population he speaks of, it’s not one Caitlyn has been aware of. New information, mentally catalogued. (See? Not narrow thinking, thanks.) They keep moving.
[Through the doors: a long, echoing space, barely discernible as a hallway. Pitch black. Electric lighting, too, seems to be a foreign concept to this place. But with the rubble behind them, Caitlyn steps boldly forward, positioning herself ahead of Oda if he allows. This, she knows how to navigate.]
Outside. [Quiet, over her shoulder, and then she’s off. Unless Oda hesitates, they’ll talk more elsewhere.]