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Neutral
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Feo’s boots landed heavily on the polished floor, the slight scrape of his soles barely audible over the soft hum of the lights overhead. He set Lucius down with extreme care, almost cradling him before releasing his grip. His hand lingered on Lucius’s arm for a moment, a silent reassurance—or maybe a warning not to overdo it. Then, his gaze snapped to the collector at the man’s comment, and Feo’s glare was a blade in its own right, sharp enough to cut through the space between them. His lips pressed into a thin line, his jaw tight with restrained irritation. - Feo didn’t bother responding to the man’s remark, but the tension radiating from him was palpable. It was clear he didn’t appreciate the scrutiny, nor the way the man’s gaze lingered on them. Feo wasn’t here to impress anyone, least of all this stranger, and the less attention they drew, the better. - Unlike Lucius, who was already visibly captivated by their surroundings, Feo remained wary. His dark eyes swept over the room, assessing it with the sharp precision of someone who’d grown up in a world where even a glint of gold could hide a blade aimed at your back. Sure, the space was impressive. The glass cases gleamed under the bright lights, and the artifacts displayed within seemed to pulse faintly with latent power. Shelves lined the walls, packed with items that practically screamed of ancient history and forgotten myths. Weapons, trinkets, scrolls—everything was meticulously arranged, and yet the sheer density of it all made Feo’s skin crawl. - There was danger here, Feo could feel it like a hum in the air. It wasn’t the kind of danger you could see coming, like a knife in the dark or a fist swinging toward your jaw. No, this was the quiet kind, the insidious kind, where a single careless touch could awaken something far worse than they were prepared to handle. - Feo lingered a step behind Lucius, his arms crossed tightly over his chest once again. His gaze flicked from case to case, his sharp eyes searching for traps or signs of deception. It wasn’t that he didn’t think this place was remarkable—it was. But he couldn’t let himself be impressed, not here, not now. He’d seen wealth and power like this before. He’d walked through the treasuries of Asgard, where the floors were literally lined with gold, the walls encrusted with gems, and shelves buckled under the weight of artifacts imbued with godly power. And even there, surrounded by immeasurable riches, Feo had felt the same wariness he felt now. - Loki had taken him there once, back before everything went to shit and he was shipped to this godforbidden place. Feo could still hear his voice, smooth and persuasive, dripping with promises as they’d stood before vaults overflowing with wealth beyond imagination. - All yours, my son, Loki had said, his hand resting heavily on Feo’s shoulder. Just help me claim what’s mine, and I’ll make sure you have everything you deserve. - Feo’s lips curled into a faint scowl at the memory, his fists tightening at his sides. He’d walked away from that life, from Loki’s poisonous words and empty promises. But standing here now, surrounded by artifacts that hummed with the same kind of power Loki had once tried to tempt him with, Feo couldn’t help but feel that same familiar unease. - Lucius’s voice, filled with awe, pulled Feo out of his thoughts. He glanced over at his companion, his gaze softening ever so slightly. Lucius was practically glowing with excitement, his eyes wide as they darted from one display to the next. Feo sighed under his breath. He’d never understand how Lucius managed to keep that kind of light in his eyes, no matter where they were or what danger they were in. It was one of the many things about him that Feo found absurdly endearing—and maddeningly naïve. - The collector’s words cut through the moment: “Some of them have extra help laced in the metal.” Feo’s attention snapped back to the man, his brows furrowing at the phrase. He didn’t like the sound of that. Not one bit. - Feo finally spoke, his voice low and laced with skepticism and bite. “Sounds like a recipe for trouble if you ask me.” His tone was sharp, almost accusatory, as if daring the collector to justify the potential chaos such items could cause. Of course, the jab was lesser than before. He'd try to satisfy Lucius, at least a little bit. If he didn't want Feo to piss off this man, then he'd try his best. But Feo didn’t trust easily, and this man, with his hoard of dangerous artifacts, hadn’t done anything to earn his trust. - Feo’s arms remained crossed as he leaned slightly toward Lucius, his posture protective. He kept his voice low, speaking so only Lucius could hear. “I don’t like this, Lulu,” he murmured. “This guy’s got a damn arsenal down here.” - Feo stayed close, his shadow looming over Lucius as he subtly scanned the room again. He wasn’t here for the treasures, the history, or the power. He was here for Lucius—and if any of this turned south, Feo was ready to fight his way out. |
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Lightbringer
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Lucius hardly seemed phased by the comment at all. It seemed like it made sense right? Of course it did. Mythical artifacts and relics had to have some sort of godly power or essence fused into the very fiber that made it. That was what made it mystical and magical. "Oh absolutely," the collector confirmed the bit about trouble. "Some of them are more trouble than it's worth. They're locked under the glass. Well, it looks like glass. It's much stronger than that, just a touch of the Bifrost. That's to keep them safe and out of the hands of people who would use them for malevolent purposes." The man's chocolate eyes watched Lucius as he took careful steps forward. Despite the tired lines in his face, there was a touch of warmth. A gentle, tired warmth. As if he hadn't been expecting this but it was a welcome sight. He didn't move much from his spot on the floor, just watched the Greek demigod as he began to step through the many, many rows of artifacts and relics. The sheer hum of power vibrated in his chest. It was something that Lucius wasn't used to. That feeling of power--the feeling of having it just beyond his fingertips. He never really felt anything of the sort. After all, he was just winged. That was it. He didn't have anything fancy, no special equipment, no extra ability. Not even something to control the wind, just the faint rush of feathers. Lucius paused for a moment, glancing back toward Feo. It was an arsenal, now that he had given it a thought or two. An arsenal hidden under glass cases. Even he could feel it, that thrum and rush of power. He took one more look through the shelves before sighing wearily and nodding. While his hand itched to take Feo's, Lucius held back and finally looked toward the collector. "This is absolutely incredible. But we... we are on a little bit of a time crunch...?" "Right, right, it's probably not too good to stand on that ankle for too long," the older demigod waved his hand and shook his head. From his pocket, he fished out a pair of circular spectacles, setting them on the bridge of his nose. "Now, you have a knife. I like that but I think you could have something similar with a little bit of extra preparation to it," he mused lightly, steeping between cases. "Something... mmh... that'll pack a bigger punch. Here--here we go." The man pushed the glass aside, reaching to the wall and taking a gilded knife from the wall. He picked up a leather sheath from the drawer under the case. "This is laced with Hydra venom--just like the arrows of Heracles. Not Hercules, Heracles," he held it out to Feo. In his eyes was a soft bit of understanding, the desire to keep someone safe. There was a touch of sadness behind it though. But the look was fleeting as the collector stepped back. "... as for you..." he glanced toward Lucius. "I... I don't quite know what would fit best." Lucius shrugged as well. "I dunno." "Perhaps... perhaps something you can work with from a distance, a bow or something of the sort," the man mused, walking through the many rows of artifacts. Lucius looked toward Feo, silently asking him for his thoughts. |
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Neutral
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Feo’s arms remained tightly crossed as he stood by the edge of the rows, his stance tense, like a watchdog guarding its charge. The gleaming knife in the man’s hand caught Feo’s eye, but his gaze was less impressed and more skeptical. He didn’t reach for it immediately, his lips twitching into a subtle frown as the collector mentioned Hydra venom. That kind of power didn’t come without consequences. - The man’s fleeting look of understanding wasn’t lost on Feo, though. It made him hesitate, just for a moment. He glanced toward Lucius, who was still marveling at the space, his blue eyes alive with wonder. Feo sighed. He could grumble all he wanted about this, but if it helped keep Lucius safe, he’d take it. - Finally, he stepped forward and took the knife and sheath, his movements careful but deliberate. The knife was well-balanced in his hand, the gilded blade gleaming faintly in the light. He turned it over slowly, his thumb running lightly along the hilt, testing its weight. It wasn’t like the weapons he was used to—those forged in Asgard had a colder, heavier feel to them. This one felt... alive, almost humming with potential. It made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. - “This better not come with some kind of cursed side effect,” Feo muttered, slipping the knife into the sheath before securing it into his tunic. He shot the collector a hard look, but there was no real malice behind it—just a layer of caution. - When the man turned his attention back to Lucius, Feo stepped closer to his companion, his presence solid and grounding. He could see the way Lucius’s fingers twitched, the way his gaze darted from one relic to the next. It was clear Lucius was overwhelmed—not by fear, but by excitement. Feo smirked faintly, shaking his head. - “You’re like a kid in a candy store,” Feo muttered under his breath, his tone softer than usual in public, as soft as in the hotel rooms. “Don’t go picking something that’s gonna explode in your hands, alright?” - Lucius glanced at him, and Feo caught the silent question in his eyes as the collector spoke of bows and distance weapons. Feo tilted his head slightly, his brows furrowing as he considered. “A bow’s not a bad idea,” he said finally, his voice low enough that only Lucius could hear. “Keeps you out of range if things get messy. And you’ve got the wings. You could make it work from the air. My suggestions? Nothing big and bulky, so a bow might not work good, unless you can find a way to hide it. If I were you, I'd go for throwing daggers, a knife to put on your hip for close range, and then I believe a garrote would work splendid for you." - Feo straightened, his dark eyes scanning the cases again. “But don’t let him push you into something you’re not comfortable with. If you’re gonna pick a weapon, make sure it feels right. Something you can trust.” - He let the words hang in the air for a moment, then added with a smirk, “Not that I’m an expert on Greek weapons or anything, but... you’re not exactly a sword-and-shield kind of guy.” - Feo gave Lucius a nudge, his touch gentle despite his gruff demeanor. “Go on. Pick something. You’ve got good instincts.” |
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Lightbringer
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The collector let out a hearty chuckle before tipping his head. "I understand the caution. I've said that several times myself. Only got one curse throughout the rush of everything--it's a rather bland one but... well, I can't taste a thing. Every single thing I taste is bland, has no taste." Lucius gave him a brighter smile. "This... this is incredible, Feo. There's so much history here, so many stories and information galore. It's amazing. I don't dare touch any of it but... just to learn about all of it?" "There's no time to learn about all of it," the man continued. It wasn't clear if he heard Feo's words but if he did, he didn't address them. Instead, made his way through the cases once more. But Lucius stepped closer to Feo, leaning against his arm. Together. But he was right. He wasn't really the type for close combat. That was... wasn't his thing. Feo's words brought a large amount of comfort to his chest. It was the comfort that no matter what, he had Feo to help him through what he didn't know. He didn't have to rush in blindly and hope for the best this time. "Ha--no," he chuckled and shook his head. "Close things... not my vibe. I guess.... if that's what you want to say." His sapphire eyes swiveled toward the collector. He had a... stick? Lucius wasn't entirely sure what it was. The man caught the look and dipped his head. "Running around and everything means you want to have something you can keep close but subtle. It took a while to find this fancy thing. But, I'll give you a secret, it's not the only one. I had both. I don't need both, they're exactly the same." The man looked down toward the item in his hands. It didn't look like much, just a flat rectangle. It was a dark wood-like material--or that was how it looked--with some flaking golden paint. "This is a bow." "... that's a bow," Lucius echoed and looked up toward the man. Was... was he joking? He chuckled softly. "It is. It'll unfold. All you do is pop these two ends up like so," from the flat surface he pushed up curved edges, one on top and one on bottom, "grab about here and give it a good flick." The bow unfolded in a blink of an eye, a gilded and glowing string connected the ends. His expression softened with amusement as Lucius gaped slightly. "No way..." "You don't have to retrieve arrows or anything. Just pull the string back," the collector pulled the string, a glowing arrow nocked almost immediately. "If you don't want to fire, lower the bow and slowly let the string back." He pushed the string in toward the bow itself and the sides folded in. "It folds down, no bigger than the knife that you have. But it doesn't weight much at all. What do you think?" The question was open but his eyes were turned toward Feo, as if to ask if it was enough or if he wanted more. |
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Neutral
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Feo’s narrowed eyes stayed locked on the bow, his sharp gaze missing nothing as the collector finished his demonstration. The sleek mechanism and glowing string were impressive, sure, but Feo didn’t let himself be swayed by the aesthetic. Practicality was what mattered—how well it would hold up in real combat, how reliable it would be under stress, and whether it had any hidden downsides. Feo had seen his share of “marvelous” artifacts that turned out to be more trouble than they were worth. - Lucius’s excitement was palpable as he leaned against Feo’s arm, his awe practically radiating off him. Feo felt a faint tug of affection at the sight, but it didn’t lessen his wariness. It only sharpened his resolve to ensure this thing wouldn’t put Lucius in more danger. - When the collector asked his opinion, Feo let the question hang in the air, his expression unreadable. He wasn’t going to sugarcoat anything. After a moment, he reached out with a steady hand, gesturing toward the bow. - “Let me see it,” Feo said bluntly, his voice carrying a quiet authority that left little room for argument. - Without waiting for full permission, he took the bow, holding it as if it were a weapon he’d wielded a thousand times before. The weight—or lack thereof—was the first thing that struck him. It was almost unnervingly light, and Feo wasn’t sure how he felt about that. A weapon should have weight, something to anchor you to the moment. This felt... too easy. - Feo flicked the bow open with a smooth motion, the ends snapping into place with a soft, resonant hum. The glow of the string cast a faint light on his scarred hands as he tested the pull. The tension was decent—not too much for Lucius, but enough to give it a sense of power. He didn’t draw it back fully, just enough to feel the resistance, then eased it forward again. - The folding mechanism worked just as smoothly as before, collapsing the bow into its compact, unassuming form. Feo ran a finger along the edge, feeling the texture of the wood-like material. It was smooth, almost too polished. - “It’s... light,” he said finally, handing the bow to Lucius with a skeptical look. “Feels like it could work for you. But light doesn’t always mean durable. And—” Feo turned his sharp gaze back to the collector, his tone hardening— “what’s the catch? There’s always a catch. What happens if it misfires? Or if someone tries to use it against him? Don’t leave anything out.” - Feo’s grip tightened briefly at his sides before he exhaled, forcing himself to relax. He trusted his instincts, and while the bow seemed legitimate, he wasn’t about to let Lucius walk into something without knowing all the risks. - He glanced down at Lucius again, his expression softening just a fraction. “Do you like it?” His voice was quieter now, more personal, as if the question was meant for Lucius alone. - But then his gaze hardened again, shifting back to the collector. “And he’s still going to need something for close range,” Feo added, his tone leaving no room for argument. “A bow’s great for keeping distance, but if someone gets in close, it’s useless. He needs something he can defend himself with.” - Feo straightened, his broad frame imposing even in the softly lit space. “So, what else have you got?” |
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Lightbringer
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"It won't misfire," the collector patiently answered each of the questions that the Norse demigod had asked. "It is incapable of misfiring. Anyone can use it, if they know how." That was a given. Any weapon could be used against someone else, even the owner of said weapon. That made it dangerous, sure, but if you kept the weapon close... there was little chance of having it used against you. Or at least that was the idea. Lucius looked at the bow as well, his sapphire eyes dancing over the weapon. While Feo had said it was light, Lucius hadn't been expecting how light it really was. The weightless feel of the bow was almost astounding. The smooth feel felt more like metal, perhaps steel, rather than the wood-like pattern painted on. "This weapon shouldn't break. It is durable," the collector added briefly. "It isn't my personal favorite but I believe it should do wonders for you." The man stepped back, giving the pair space to talk without him listening in on it. His eyes traveled around the warehouse like space for several more moments. "I really do like it," Lucius admitted quietly, holding the folded bow in his hands. "It... it feels okay," he confirmed quietly. "Like it's going to work for us." Not that he was going to deny it but the idea of staying out of range from most creatures and their wrath was a grand idea. He didn't like the idea of a fight in general but at least with this... he could still be useful instead of useless. The collector glanced over as Feo spoke up, stepping closer to hear better. "Indeed. Let me see what else I have," he prompted and stepped toward the cases. Lucius wasn't quite ready to admit it just yet but he definitely wasn't sure he could really use a close-range weapon without ... damaging himself in someway, shape or form. All he could see was the one punch he threw and the resulting almost nine months of pain that he had been in afterwards. The collector brought back a small table cart with several relics on the top. "There's a few knives here, they don't do anything incredibly dangerous but they can help guide the attacker to strike well and true. This dagger--now the difference is the length of the blade, daggers are longer than knives and after that you get into swords and the likes. This dagger can hide itself in any position. It will blend in seamlessly with you and what you are wearing." He set that one aside as well to push the last two toward the pair. "This one will never be lost. You will always be able to find it no matter what and it will never be used by another so long as you have the keystone for it. It will only ever be weilded in your hands. If it's knocked out or thrown, it will reappear in the sheath." The last one was much smaller than the others. "... this one doesn't have anything fancy, it just extends," he flicked the hilt forward, the blade extended a few inches and as he flicked it back, it shrunk a few inches. "What are your thoughts?" |
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Neutral
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Feo stayed quiet as the collector pushed the cart closer, taking in each item with an intensity that was almost palpable. His sharp gaze moved over every blade, cataloging their details. He didn’t reach out to touch any of them immediately, letting the collector talk and letting Lucius get a good look before he made his own assessments. This wasn’t about finding something flashy or impressive—it was about keeping Lucius safe. That was the only thing that mattered. - He noticed the way Lucius’s hands lingered on the bow, the quiet admiration still evident in the subtle way he held it, like it was something precious. That was a good sign. Lucius needed to trust his weapon, needed to feel like it was an extension of himself. Feo hoped they’d find the same kind of connection here with one of these blades. - When the collector presented the first dagger—the one that could blend seamlessly into clothing—Feo leaned closer, examining the hilt and the blade’s craftsmanship. It was sleek, well-made, and clearly enchanted, but he was quick to dismiss it with a shake of his head. - “No,” he said bluntly, his deep voice cutting through the air. “That’s not practical. If it blends in too well, it’s just one more thing to slow him down when it matters. He doesn’t need to fumble for a weapon when someone’s breathing down his neck.” He glanced at Lucius, his expression softening slightly. “You need something you can reach for without thinking, something you know is there.” - Then he turned to the second. Feo’s eyes narrowed slightly at the explanation—the blade that would never be lost, the one that would always return to its owner. It was clever, he had to admit, and potentially very useful for someone like Lucius, who wasn’t as experienced in melee combat. The idea of the weapon returning if dropped or thrown was appealing, but Feo’s mind immediately went to the potential pitfalls. - “And what happens if the keystone is lost?” he asked, his tone sharp and direct. He straightened to his full height, towering over the collector as his voice grew more pointed. “What’s the backup plan for that? If the blade relies on the keystone to work, what happens if someone else gets their hands on it? If they take the sheath, does that render the enchantment useless? Or is there some other fail-safe I should know about?” - Feo wasn’t about to take anything at face value, not when it came to Lucius’s safety. He was willing to listen, but only if the answers made sense. - Finally, his attention shifted to the last blade. It was simple, unassuming, and lacked the ornate qualities of the others. Feo didn’t see that as a downside. In fact, he liked it. The lack of enchantments meant there was less that could go wrong. He picked it up, testing its weight and balance, his movements measured and deliberate. - It was light, quick, and the retractable blade mechanism was smooth. He flicked the blade out, watching it extend with a soft click, then retracted it just as easily. There was no hesitation in the mechanism, no stuttering or resistance. It was reliable. Feo turned it over in his hand a few times, testing the grip and imagining how Lucius might handle it. Satisfied, he handed it to Lucius without saying a word, his expression expectant as he watched for his reaction. - For a moment, he just observed Lucius. He noticed the way Lucius turned the weapons Fro handed him over in his hands, how he seemed to weigh them both physically and mentally. Feo could see the hesitance, the faint shadows of old doubts flickering behind those sapphire eyes. Did something happen with knives that Feo didn't know about? Or did Lucius just dislike close-quarters combat? - Feo stepped closer, his voice low but firm. “It’s your call,” he said, his tone softer now, less commanding. “The bow’s solid, but this—” he gestured to the knives and dagger—“this is for when someone gets too close. If you’re not comfortable with it, don’t pick one. But if you are, pick the one that feels right. The one you know you can trust.” - He let the words sink in for a moment before turning back to the collector, his gaze sharp again. “And if he picks something,” he added, his voice taking on a harder edge, “you’d better make sure it works exactly the way you say it does. No surprises. No hidden catches. I don’t care how durable or fancy it is—if it’s faulty, I'll be on your ass, yeah?" |
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Lightbringer
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The man tipped his head, taking each of the demigod's words into account. He stepped back with his hands on the cart still. A small flicker of emotion tucked behind his eyes. "There's no weapon that can't be used against you, I'm sorry. I just don't have something that works like that," but he wished he had. It was clear in his tone. "Even a plain old knife can be used against you. There isn't a single weapon that functions otherwise," he explained. Lucius looked over the weapons as well, testing each of the weight in his hands. They were a bit heavier than the bow. Which... wasn't too surprising. The bow was enchanted differently. But these weren't the same. His hand hesitated before setting the others down. He just wasn't sure if it was a good idea for him to handle something like this. Something that required sheer strength and sturdiness behind it. That wasn't something he had. "I... I know," Lucius whispered in return, resisting the urge to sink against Feo's side. His heart raced in his chest, uncertain how to explain it without sending his companion into an overprotective overdrive. It was a struggle to look back at the knives and daggers. Unlike the bow, the knives and daggers didn't feel quite right. His hesitation was evident. But he couldn't hide it. The collector lifted his gaze before exhaling. "Perhaps a weapon isn't the pathway you wish to go. Perhaps we can find something else. A ring or something that could provide a little blessing of safety...?" Lucius bobbed his head briefly. "Let's... let's look at that too. Just in case." The man tipped his head and stepped back, heading toward the cases and drawers. Lucius knew Feo would have questions about the whole thing and he couldn't really lie. It wouldn't work. "Alright. Let's see what we've got here," he said softly. "This ring will ... well, it's a sort of sheild from mythical beings. It will distort what they see you as--if they can see you at all. These cuff links will provide a sort of sheild..." Lucius tilted his head. Cuff links. A necklace that would allow him to disappear several feet away. A pen that would also double as a sort of smoke screen. Many things, many objects. But he knew what he was subtly hoping for. None of them were close. There really wasn't something to strengthen the weakness that he already had. "... I don't know," Lucius said quietly. The collector frowned for a moment. "There's something you're hoping for?" "I--I really don't want to be ungrateful," Lucius said quickly. "The shield is nice, really. But well... I've also got wings--" The man nodded slowly. "Ahh, ahh. I get it. I get it. I don't think I've got anything to really help with that. But I believe I can supply a small ... aid. I can't stop it but I can help with potential issues." Lucius tilted his head for a moment as he stepped back, sifting through the cases and drawers once more. "Here we go. This doesn't look like much. It's a sort of wrap that's been blessed by Apollo. It will heal injuries within a day," he explained, tucking the wrap in his hands. "Be safe you two. I can't quite explain it... but I feel like you both are doing something special. Be safe," he insisted quietly. "You can head out, I'll put all of this away again." |
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Neutral
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Feo listened to the collector with his usual quiet intensity, his arms crossed over his chest. He didn’t respond immediately, letting the man’s words hang in the air. The truth was, the collector wasn’t wrong—there wasn’t a weapon in existence that couldn’t be turned against its wielder. That was part of the risk that came with fighting, and Feo knew it better than most. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. He didn’t want Lucius to feel cornered into making a choice that didn’t sit right with him. - Lucius’s hesitation wasn’t lost on him. Feo could see the uncertainty in the way he held each blade, the way he lingered over the choices but couldn’t seem to commit. It was a vulnerability Lucius rarely showed, and it hit Feo like a punch to the gut. He wasn’t mad—not at Lucius, at least—but he hated seeing that flicker of doubt in those sapphire eyes. - When the collector offered alternatives, Feo gave a small nod of approval. “A shield or a blessing makes more sense,” he said, his voice low but firm. “Not everyone’s meant to wield a blade.” - As the collector presented a variety of enchanted items—a ring, cuff links, a necklace, and even a pen—Feo watched Lucius carefully, studying his reactions. None of the items seemed to resonate with him. Feo could see it in the way Lucius’s gaze flitted from one to the next, the way he hesitated to pick anything up. - Then Lucius mentioned his wings, and Feo’s brow furrowed slightly. He hadn’t thought about that aspect—not fully, at least. Lucius’s wings were both a gift and a burden, something that set him apart but also made him vulnerable. It wasn’t just about fighting; it was about protecting the parts of himself that were most exposed, most likely to be targeted. - When the collector returned with the wrap blessed by Apollo, Feo stepped closer, his sharp eyes narrowing as he examined it. It was simple, unassuming, but the promise it carried was powerful. Healing within a day was no small thing, especially for someone like Lucius, who wasn’t built for sustained physical combat. - Feo turned to Lucius, his expression softening slightly. “This feels right,” he said quietly. “You’re not a fighter, and that’s okay. You don’t have to be. But this—” he gestured to the wrap—“this will keep you going when things get rough. It’ll give you a chance to recover, to keep moving forward.” - He stepped back, giving Lucius space to make his decision. “It’s your call,” he said, his tone gentle but firm. “Whatever you choose, we’ll make it work.” - The collector’s parting words drew Feo’s attention, and he inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment. “Thank you,” he said simply, though his tone carried a weight of sincerity that was rare for him. He turned back to Lucius, his green eyes steady. “You ready?” - Feo wasn’t in a rush to leave, but he wanted to make sure Lucius felt settled. They were heading into dangerous territory, and whatever choices Lucius made now would matter. But more than that, Feo wanted Lucius to know that, no matter what, he had someone in his corner—someone who wouldn’t let him down. |
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Lightbringer
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Lucius dipped his head. He really didn't want to be faced with close combat. There was no logical way that was ever going to end in his favor. That was the issue. But it'd be fine. The white wrap was nothing fancy at all, it was linen... felt a little warm to the touch but nothing too fancy. Which Lucius didn't mind. The less fancy, the less suspicious. But it also didn't bring too many questions either, at least not yet. It felt safer than the dazzling array of items that the collector had laid out. The old man tipped his head as Lucius accepted the wrapping. "Thank you," he added, his tone wavering just slightly. "We can't... pay you? At all?" The man waved one hand, his eyes soft and warm. "No, no. Just be safe--and take care of that ankle." Lucius nearly paused before bobbing his head. "Well, I'll do my best," he flashed him a brighter smile, the light flickering back into his sapphire eyes. He took a step back, looking up toward Feo. "I'm ready. I think we're ready. We still need a few things but ... those can be bought at a mortal store." "There's a grocer around the corner on Main, if you're looking for a drug store it'll be farther south on Center. There should be other shops and diners along the way," the man called from the shelves. "Just keep a watch out for the kids--they're a bit more rough and don't always pay attention." Lucius tipped his head and tried to figure out how to keep the bow... without holding it. It was just too big to fit in his pocket... maybe he'd have to look at a shoulder bag as well. It probably couldn't hurt to have one. But what if someone stole his bag? That wouldn't be good. But he didn't know if he could find a good sheath--nor would it be easy to hide. He could... potentially tailor his pockets and make them deeper... that would be a relatively solid idea. A bag at first, just to have but to keep the wrap and bow in his pocket. That would be alright. He could make that work. Lucius didn't have any secret pockets like Feo did, soon he was going to be figuring out the way he was going to be holding his own weaponry. Then, they could also figure out where to go from Kansas. A part of him was grateful it had turned out this way rather than going with his initial plan. It sounded like he was far more prepared to handle folks like Lucius--though maybe not Lucius himself--than he had figured. Not that Lucius knew what to do with that but still, this was far better. He just had to focus on the little things now. Getting a sewing kit, craft items, new clothes for Feo, a comb... and a way back to Hutchinson to catch the flight back to campus. |
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Spring Month: 2 
Day 
