Post by littlekreen on Nov 24, 2019 0:59:34 GMT -6
A too-thin man of skin as loose and papery as the skin on each hand atop a carved gnarl of a walking stick stood outside in the setting sun to watch a bar TV. A set of deep brown colored eyes just outside the window fixated on the news report. Nothing said to the bouncers but for a direct unflinching eye that said he knew exactly what kind of establishment he stood outside. He could manage the language enough from the study of Reacher flotsam though he had to pay attention through the accent.
The news anchor began the story headline that caught his ear at the top of the late hour.
The saccharine voice reminded Astrophel of the excitable Twitch, "And here's the breaking news with Don Edgar at 9! Well, it was an interesting evening for Mesquite Public Works as the old Big Town Mall site saw a literal explosion of activity at approximately 11 am. A large metal noise shook the neighbors and alerted the locals to an implosion in its parking lot. While there was no observed fire reported, Public Works employees suspect an underground buildup of gases in an abandoned underground sewer tunnel. As they ignited it imploded an old mechanical pumping station though vandalism is not suspected at this time. Inspection revealed large amounts of brass from mechanics below the crater an unrecognizable mess of metal and concrete. Officials state they do not expect any danger to the surrounding Annex apartments. Inspections of sewers in the vicinity of Big Town Boulevard will be ongoing tomorrow to ensure there is no danger to the public. So if you're going that way expect slow traffic. Now here's Sara for tomorrow's forecast!"
A tight egress it had been to get from Losthome to here and Grandfather Teeth's flesh seemed evicted from this world as soon as he left it. At least they expected little and he had no obvious pursuers. Likely the gears moved and trundled on elsewhere after biting into the world. The Yellow's descendant Flynn was here somewhere and the High Gan needed her back or at least safe. She would be able to find him a way back and he knew her whelps when he smelled them. It explained much that she'd brought them to a sweetwater den no less. The habit suited Flynn's known near-complete lack of motherly instinct. Though not here now he thought. Nearby. He remembered a settlement of some stripe and left the bar behind to chase the scent. Chasing a Reacher scent over terrain was no small task but that's why they'd sent him. A thin human frame once deep enough in the trees not to be easily noticed ably navigated the growing dark lanching by tiptoe in a long gazelle motions. Grey hair fluttering in the breeze the freshly carved walking stick cradled in his armpit. The glamour of well-pressed suit one imitated from images he thought likely the past but elegant all the same. They flexed like the false feathers they were barely containing the large creature inside. One that smelt not of blood and haughty air as the vampires tend but death and pure iron. A predator of the same stripe if a different coat. Reachers marks spied in a clearing he stopped to look with a clatter of leather shoes against stone as his glamour caught up. Astrophel looked up to eye treetops for hidden boules blown into trunks and covered in leaves.
Walking stick in both withered human hands mused in their tongue both fluted and guttural, "Scout blind nearby? So, taking the time to check the minders of your Whelps, Flynn? My My, won't your mate be pleased. Old feathers can still change."
The news anchor began the story headline that caught his ear at the top of the late hour.
The saccharine voice reminded Astrophel of the excitable Twitch, "And here's the breaking news with Don Edgar at 9! Well, it was an interesting evening for Mesquite Public Works as the old Big Town Mall site saw a literal explosion of activity at approximately 11 am. A large metal noise shook the neighbors and alerted the locals to an implosion in its parking lot. While there was no observed fire reported, Public Works employees suspect an underground buildup of gases in an abandoned underground sewer tunnel. As they ignited it imploded an old mechanical pumping station though vandalism is not suspected at this time. Inspection revealed large amounts of brass from mechanics below the crater an unrecognizable mess of metal and concrete. Officials state they do not expect any danger to the surrounding Annex apartments. Inspections of sewers in the vicinity of Big Town Boulevard will be ongoing tomorrow to ensure there is no danger to the public. So if you're going that way expect slow traffic. Now here's Sara for tomorrow's forecast!"
A tight egress it had been to get from Losthome to here and Grandfather Teeth's flesh seemed evicted from this world as soon as he left it. At least they expected little and he had no obvious pursuers. Likely the gears moved and trundled on elsewhere after biting into the world. The Yellow's descendant Flynn was here somewhere and the High Gan needed her back or at least safe. She would be able to find him a way back and he knew her whelps when he smelled them. It explained much that she'd brought them to a sweetwater den no less. The habit suited Flynn's known near-complete lack of motherly instinct. Though not here now he thought. Nearby. He remembered a settlement of some stripe and left the bar behind to chase the scent. Chasing a Reacher scent over terrain was no small task but that's why they'd sent him. A thin human frame once deep enough in the trees not to be easily noticed ably navigated the growing dark lanching by tiptoe in a long gazelle motions. Grey hair fluttering in the breeze the freshly carved walking stick cradled in his armpit. The glamour of well-pressed suit one imitated from images he thought likely the past but elegant all the same. They flexed like the false feathers they were barely containing the large creature inside. One that smelt not of blood and haughty air as the vampires tend but death and pure iron. A predator of the same stripe if a different coat. Reachers marks spied in a clearing he stopped to look with a clatter of leather shoes against stone as his glamour caught up. Astrophel looked up to eye treetops for hidden boules blown into trunks and covered in leaves.
Walking stick in both withered human hands mused in their tongue both fluted and guttural, "Scout blind nearby? So, taking the time to check the minders of your Whelps, Flynn? My My, won't your mate be pleased. Old feathers can still change."