Isaac crouches over the unconscious man. It puts his eyes nearer the floor; the cellar.
"Yes," Addressing the whisper. "Ready the baby."
Suffocating down there, to wait bated on the edge of danger. He'd like to snatch the door up by its hinges, but a dozen figures sprawling forth are pure liability.
Isaac puts himself between body and basement, tips the skull back and forth to examine. A lucky blow to put the man out, and better if they've no surprise awakenings — energy oozes from Fade to palm, coats swollen brains in deeper slumber. Heavy. Smothering. But he's breathing. For now, in the eyes of those around them, he's breathing.
(An idea begins to coalesce. One needn't practice blood magic to bluff it: Isaac can't make the man in the closet forget telling them anything. Desperation might take the lie.
Bastien, Baudin, will have their own ideas. It's just that the prospect of prying fingernails leaves him queasy. There's fearing yourself able, and then there's the real, bloody practice. Will Bastien have done this before? Is that cruel to rely upon? Surely no more than the act.)
He glances to Gwenaelle,
"A hand?" Look, between them, she’s probably stronger.
no subject
"Yes," Addressing the whisper. "Ready the baby."
Suffocating down there, to wait bated on the edge of danger. He'd like to snatch the door up by its hinges, but a dozen figures sprawling forth are pure liability.
Isaac puts himself between body and basement, tips the skull back and forth to examine. A lucky blow to put the man out, and better if they've no surprise awakenings — energy oozes from Fade to palm, coats swollen brains in deeper slumber. Heavy. Smothering. But he's breathing. For now, in the eyes of those around them, he's breathing.
(An idea begins to coalesce. One needn't practice blood magic to bluff it: Isaac can't make the man in the closet forget telling them anything. Desperation might take the lie.
Bastien, Baudin, will have their own ideas. It's just that the prospect of prying fingernails leaves him queasy. There's fearing yourself able, and then there's the real, bloody practice. Will Bastien have done this before? Is that cruel to rely upon? Surely no more than the act.)
He glances to Gwenaelle,
"A hand?" Look, between them, she’s probably stronger.