Insult to Injury [Tristan]
Posted May 15, 2018 0:02:44 GMT -7
Post by Vieri di Adatto Isabello on May 15, 2018 0:02:44 GMT -7
Ever since he’d taken over Florence, relaxing had been something of a joke. It’d only been a little over two and a half days, so it wasn’t bound to last. Things would slow down again and he could get back to spending his time doing real research again rather than yelling at bankers for lying about the amount of profits they’d made. The latter was hopefully over after today’s example and the burns left on the banker’s arm as a reminder.
Until things settled down again, the rec room was less a place he could punch someone for a free corner to read or run in as it usually was, and more a place he passed through on his way for supplies or some documents he left in his academy dorm room. Presently it was a small generator for a small-minded scientist who’d ‘run the math’ and apparently would be damned to just share with his neighbour, and some papers from the modern era with examples of successful tax collection schemes to help out the competency of his planners. The rec room was on his way out through the hall of portals.
Vieri strode directly down the middle of the main walking area. He had the look of someone with a place to be and a thousand thoughts on their mind; as many people as there were in the academy, it was still less than the hoards he was gathering in Florence. The biological radio fuzz was low enough here he could actually hear himself think. Whatever time he had here to think through the tougher aspects of running a city, he took full advantage of.
He was enough in his own head that he didn’t see the person he was coming up upon until he was about a meter away and his subconscious mind kicked in to avoid a collision. He glanced up, ready to shoot a glare or a yell at the person until they got the idea and got out of his way. He wasn’t expecting a recently familiar face.
“Oh, it’s just you, the lukewarm hero.”
This asshole again. He sounded a little disappointed, and his face was flattened with how little he wanted to see this guy’s mug again. Besides that, there wasn’t much else to it; he was the first guy to show up to check out the flash, then pretended to be helping people before he got cold feet. That fight was anticlimactic. This guy, forgettable circa four days. The worst he had to offer were the mannequins some people were reporting seeing around town, the ones that apparently hurt the guy to stab. He wasn’t worth the time or energy to go around.
“Move.”
His course didn’t change at all. He fully expected the other mage to get out of the way or take a shoulder, and probably a shock in return for the guy’s damned cold powers.
Tristan Carter
Until things settled down again, the rec room was less a place he could punch someone for a free corner to read or run in as it usually was, and more a place he passed through on his way for supplies or some documents he left in his academy dorm room. Presently it was a small generator for a small-minded scientist who’d ‘run the math’ and apparently would be damned to just share with his neighbour, and some papers from the modern era with examples of successful tax collection schemes to help out the competency of his planners. The rec room was on his way out through the hall of portals.
Vieri strode directly down the middle of the main walking area. He had the look of someone with a place to be and a thousand thoughts on their mind; as many people as there were in the academy, it was still less than the hoards he was gathering in Florence. The biological radio fuzz was low enough here he could actually hear himself think. Whatever time he had here to think through the tougher aspects of running a city, he took full advantage of.
He was enough in his own head that he didn’t see the person he was coming up upon until he was about a meter away and his subconscious mind kicked in to avoid a collision. He glanced up, ready to shoot a glare or a yell at the person until they got the idea and got out of his way. He wasn’t expecting a recently familiar face.
“Oh, it’s just you, the lukewarm hero.”
This asshole again. He sounded a little disappointed, and his face was flattened with how little he wanted to see this guy’s mug again. Besides that, there wasn’t much else to it; he was the first guy to show up to check out the flash, then pretended to be helping people before he got cold feet. That fight was anticlimactic. This guy, forgettable circa four days. The worst he had to offer were the mannequins some people were reporting seeing around town, the ones that apparently hurt the guy to stab. He wasn’t worth the time or energy to go around.
“Move.”
His course didn’t change at all. He fully expected the other mage to get out of the way or take a shoulder, and probably a shock in return for the guy’s damned cold powers.
Tristan Carter
