[ Bones upon his. That same crawl of revulsion, the urge to snap that he doesn't understand a fucking thing.
Childish, even to his own ears. Too close to the swell of anger that brought them here. Isaac couldn't reach for a spell again if he wanted to; it's the wanting that spells trouble. The knock is,
A welcome distraction. He watches the door, frozen in the crack of light from beneath. Tries to number the odds that she's returned with guard in tow. There's nothing for it. Pries digits loose — gentle, and that's automatic too — to answer. Ushers her in before anyone else might see.
(Serra can be distracted. Artemaeus, cowed. Yngvi, diverted. But any hands might do it; no loyalty or guarantee.) ]
no subject
Childish, even to his own ears. Too close to the swell of anger that brought them here. Isaac couldn't reach for a spell again if he wanted to; it's the wanting that spells trouble. The knock is,
A welcome distraction. He watches the door, frozen in the crack of light from beneath. Tries to number the odds that she's returned with guard in tow. There's nothing for it. Pries digits loose — gentle, and that's automatic too — to answer. Ushers her in before anyone else might see.
(Serra can be distracted. Artemaeus, cowed. Yngvi, diverted. But any hands might do it; no loyalty or guarantee.) ]