[He knew Silco had him there, knew from the moment he had taken the first swing that he was playing right into his hand. Vander wasn’t one who started fights—not anymore, at least—and going after him right here in the middle of the market with panicked onlookers to witness it only made matters worse. But for some reason he just didn’t care.
Something had been nagging at him for the past day or so, an antsy sort of anticipation that had been left waiting, coiled like a spring for the right provocation—and the mere sight of Silco here, as smug and condescending as ever, enticed it to blossom into a nearly forgotten old anger. One that no longer saw fit to be reined in.
The consequences were his to face, whatever they may be, and he could live with that. Letting someone else fall victim to their hot-headed old feud, on the other hand, was not something he could abide by. He shifted from foot to foot, not willing to press in and force Silco’s hand, but well aware that his old enemy didn’t need any provocation to harm an innocent if it would strike an indirect blow. He had to think quick, act fast before this got messy.
Vander only got more tense when he put away the knife—what the hell could he have up his sleeve? His own anger deepened the lines on his face, lips pulled back in a snarl as Silco continued his taunts. By the time the situation took an abrupt turn, Vander was already halfway ready to leap in and make the risky gamble of pulling the shopkeep to safety.
But he didn’t have to. What exactly had changed was was unclear in the flurry of motion following the man's quick retreat, but he could tell from the look on Silco’s face that this wasn’t going the way he had planned.
The moment the bystander was clear, Vander was moving in fast. Gone were the tightly controlled swings from before, his hands now poised to go for a grapple. One hand reached for an arm, the other more broadly at his center of mass, aiming to get himself into position for a more restrictive hold.]
No hiding now, Silco.
[He made his move while anticipating that Silco would make a frantic grab for the knife he had tucked away behind him—too late he realized that the man had another one within ready reach. Momentum didn’t leave him much room to pivot from this new angle of threat, forced him to commit to his move despite the risk.]
no subject
[He knew Silco had him there, knew from the moment he had taken the first swing that he was playing right into his hand. Vander wasn’t one who started fights—not anymore, at least—and going after him right here in the middle of the market with panicked onlookers to witness it only made matters worse. But for some reason he just didn’t care.
Something had been nagging at him for the past day or so, an antsy sort of anticipation that had been left waiting, coiled like a spring for the right provocation—and the mere sight of Silco here, as smug and condescending as ever, enticed it to blossom into a nearly forgotten old anger. One that no longer saw fit to be reined in.
The consequences were his to face, whatever they may be, and he could live with that. Letting someone else fall victim to their hot-headed old feud, on the other hand, was not something he could abide by. He shifted from foot to foot, not willing to press in and force Silco’s hand, but well aware that his old enemy didn’t need any provocation to harm an innocent if it would strike an indirect blow. He had to think quick, act fast before this got messy.
Vander only got more tense when he put away the knife—what the hell could he have up his sleeve? His own anger deepened the lines on his face, lips pulled back in a snarl as Silco continued his taunts. By the time the situation took an abrupt turn, Vander was already halfway ready to leap in and make the risky gamble of pulling the shopkeep to safety.
But he didn’t have to. What exactly had changed was was unclear in the flurry of motion following the man's quick retreat, but he could tell from the look on Silco’s face that this wasn’t going the way he had planned.
The moment the bystander was clear, Vander was moving in fast. Gone were the tightly controlled swings from before, his hands now poised to go for a grapple. One hand reached for an arm, the other more broadly at his center of mass, aiming to get himself into position for a more restrictive hold.]
No hiding now, Silco.
[He made his move while anticipating that Silco would make a frantic grab for the knife he had tucked away behind him—too late he realized that the man had another one within ready reach. Momentum didn’t leave him much room to pivot from this new angle of threat, forced him to commit to his move despite the risk.]