Zhas (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
oldrecordplayer) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
psychoshenanigans2012-12-02 12:01 am
oldrecordplayer) wrote in psychoshenanigans2012-12-02 12:01 am
Goodnight // AU
He's taking stock. Assessing. He heard the last of the wet, wireslick sounds of a body sliding off a blade a little over a minute ago. The main room is the worst; the "great hall", as it were, was a perfect place for an ambush. Probably meant to work the other way around. He counts bodies, he counts piles of ash by their distinguishing bones. After a moment of counting and listening to the heavy, all-too-soon silence, he signals for the others to spread out and check for stragglers.
The knights are more than happy to scatter to the four winds in search of something else to maim and rip apart. Surrounded by fresh corpses and broken glass, Zhas starts his more thorough investigation. He checks each human body to make sure they aren't in a transitional torpor (often checking by quietly firing a bolt into their chests), checks a few piles of ash to see if they left anything interesting behind. He looks at open books on the floor, notes the way the room's decorated, traces paths with his boots to imagine how it all happened. This was no coincidental skirmish, and these people weren't just a convenient meal in the middle of nowhere.
Something of interest: a group of them ran into a particular side room, followed by even more. Probably humans first, then vampires. Zhas raises his arm as he walks in that direction, not bothering to disguise the heavy sound of his boots trekking through the carnage. If something's in there, he wants it to know he's coming.
He pushes the door aside, weapon aimed and ready, eyes glowing bright in the dim of the room--but he freezes when he sees another eye glowing back.
The knights are more than happy to scatter to the four winds in search of something else to maim and rip apart. Surrounded by fresh corpses and broken glass, Zhas starts his more thorough investigation. He checks each human body to make sure they aren't in a transitional torpor (often checking by quietly firing a bolt into their chests), checks a few piles of ash to see if they left anything interesting behind. He looks at open books on the floor, notes the way the room's decorated, traces paths with his boots to imagine how it all happened. This was no coincidental skirmish, and these people weren't just a convenient meal in the middle of nowhere.
Something of interest: a group of them ran into a particular side room, followed by even more. Probably humans first, then vampires. Zhas raises his arm as he walks in that direction, not bothering to disguise the heavy sound of his boots trekking through the carnage. If something's in there, he wants it to know he's coming.
He pushes the door aside, weapon aimed and ready, eyes glowing bright in the dim of the room--but he freezes when he sees another eye glowing back.
no subject
All of the things that he doesn't understand pile up with everything that he does understand and is still having a hard time processing. He's reeling with it.
He doesn't know who they are, why they're there, or what they're planning after they're 'done.' He doesn't know if anyone is left. Returning to staring at the man for a minute, shellshocked, it takes him a minute to form everything his mind if jamming with into a singular thought.
Bringing shaking fingers up to his face, he shakily gives the sign for 'why?'
no subject
They followed the monsters here. They do not know the situation. He wants Coil to stay so that he won't be in danger, if danger is still here.
He's not sure if he got that through, but it's a start... And it's much easier for him to stumble through these silent words than it is for him to find an audible explanation.
no subject
Eventually though, the picture becomes understandable enough. It at least maybe explains some things. He probably wouldn't be able to take in much more information than that anyway. So, finally manages a small dazed nod. He understands.
no subject
He considers this boy a moment longer, considers the carnage his feet. He remembers a little boy and a record player. He gestures at Coil again, but simply this time. A little repetitive motion to get him to come closer.
no subject
He can't imagine what the man might want with him, but it's pretty clear that he's dreading it.
no subject
He steps forward just as certain, swinging the coat up and over the stranger's shoulders. He pulls the collar forward to make sure it hangs well, reaches into an inside pocket to pull out a kit that he'll need later. And then he steps back, returning them to their separate boundaries.
He looks smaller without the coat. Not any less dangerous, given that all of his weapons are visible now--the bolts at his side, the holster under his arm, the blades in his boots, the strange sheath that circles around his waist... The coat itself is heavy, probably with more weapons and whatever else he keeps on him. But it's warm and it's thick, meant to keep out much colder winds than these.
"I'll need that back," he says, half-signing it anyway, "Don't lose it."
He turns, then, back towards the door, crunching through the remains of some vampire's skull on his way. He's got a lot of work to do.
no subject
It makes him look like a child, with weights dragging down on his shoulders. As if the thing weighs a thousand pounds, it makes something about him buckle and crumble beneath it.
It's because the gesture brings reality pressing down. It's something sudden and tangible, and it isn't what he'd expected. It surprises him, hangs on him, pins him down to the present. Everything is a little more real.
He's grounded now.
The heaviness helps still his shaking, it pulls him back together. As the man heads out of the room and leaves him with the finality of his surroundings, Coil steps and sinks back against the bookshelf again... but the coat keeps him on his feet.