[ Silco had been following the two of them. He'd not seen the man since that first day at the party for Zenith's new potential recruits, and so he'd made the assumption -- perhaps accurately -- that he'd gone elsewhere. No matter for Silco, not everyone is perfect, and not everyone has the mettle to destroy and rend the world around them. Silco, for all of his flaws, knew what cost that had. Knew it better than most, to give it up, even if he thought that it was for the best -- after all, letting Zaun float to the bottom of the river that was oblivion was far better than bringing Piltover back with it -- and tucked away in his rooms in Highstorm was...
The only thing that actually mattered, regardless.
He crept closer, invisible, silent, his feet padded on the ground with his soft leather boots as he came close, ignoring the pack of people close by, all of them machined, electric, and neon. It's almost like Zaun, if perhaps it were in a book of futuristic technology and excess. One of them, he eyed with a quirk of his lips, before he reached up, that prize so obvious on David's neck.
Silco is careful though, he isn't a fool. Down the hallway, there's a soft thp thp of steps, before a howling cacophony highlighted the frame of three of these guys, big-daddy looking motherfuckers lit in neon green and a sickening, ill looking purple smoke in their helmets, obscuring their faces, and they surrounded a woman, big, but not that big, a cape covered one of her arms. I'm sure it's nothing. She had a cigar in her mouth, as she took a final drag, before she tossed it aside, and tipped her head silently toward the group.
The sand was worth it, he suspected. He'd collect it at the end, but more importantly, as they were turning toward them, Silco reached out, to try and snap a piece off of David's mirror-shard.
But how fast does David turn toward the commotion? ]
no subject
The only thing that actually mattered, regardless.
He crept closer, invisible, silent, his feet padded on the ground with his soft leather boots as he came close, ignoring the pack of people close by, all of them machined, electric, and neon. It's almost like Zaun, if perhaps it were in a book of futuristic technology and excess. One of them, he eyed with a quirk of his lips, before he reached up, that prize so obvious on David's neck.
Silco is careful though, he isn't a fool. Down the hallway, there's a soft thp thp of steps, before a howling cacophony highlighted the frame of three of these guys, big-daddy looking motherfuckers lit in neon green and a sickening, ill looking purple smoke in their helmets, obscuring their faces, and they surrounded a woman, big, but not that big, a cape covered one of her arms. I'm sure it's nothing. She had a cigar in her mouth, as she took a final drag, before she tossed it aside, and tipped her head silently toward the group.
The sand was worth it, he suspected. He'd collect it at the end, but more importantly, as they were turning toward them, Silco reached out, to try and snap a piece off of David's mirror-shard.
But how fast does David turn toward the commotion? ]