|
|
Post by Tribulation Cain on Nov 23, 2009 1:43:34 GMT -6
The make-shift command centre was being disabled and loaded back onto the ship, and Cain watched as everything was packed up again. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing how close he had been, and knowing that he would have to leave. If the Terran Government had a greater understand of what was happening here, they would have given him the go-ahead to march on Dôr Gelaidh and seize the girl.
But of course they didn't understand. They couldn't. The wolf was at the door and they just turned a blind eye, waiting for it to go away and seek the sheep in the field. And when all the sheep were gone, the wolf would return. And this time they would open their doors and let it destroy humanity.
Cain was no fool. He didn't fight the orders. There would be another chance. Even the Elves would not be able to stand the abomination among them for long. They would turn her out, and Cain would dispatch her quietly and with no mercy before she could spread her sickness. And if she wasn't among the Elves? Well, he knew the ship she would likely travel on. Unauthorized raids were frowned upon and could cost Cain his position if didn't recover anything. He would bide his time.
There were others out there. Cain would find them. And he would destroy them.
He turned his back on the half-dismantled centre and watched the crowd come and go, people moving in waves. Behind him, the chairs were folded up, the canvas rolled and secured for the next time Cain needed it. No one wasted time, and no one stopped, just in case Cain did turn around and see them resting.
|
|
|
|
Post by Magdalen Verena on Nov 23, 2009 23:36:56 GMT -6
It’d been the first time she’d ventured from the ship since the group had reunited. And although she was anxious to help, Solomon seemed preoccupied enough formulating plans to secretly transport Cassandra from the Denvers back aboard the Adeala. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way or involve herself when it was unnecessary, opting instead to stretch her legs. Of course it may not have been such a wise idea to stray so far when she knew that she’d drawn enough negative attention to herself, but Magdalen had grown restless and felt like she hadn’t had time to properly appreciate the planet or the goings-on of port.
She’d give herself a half-hour before returning to the ship and then maybe spend the rest of the day paying Olive or Booker a visit. That seemed fair, didn’t it?
Disappearing amongst the throng of civilians, she began navigating her way easily enough and took in all of the sights and sounds she’d neglected since her arrival. She was somewhat surprised she’d missed half of the shops she passed, deciding that a handful of them seemed worth checking out and was dismayed that – under present circumstances – she would no longer have the chance to do so. What made this realization worse was the fact that Tribulation Cain, the very man she’d been busy avoiding since their last meeting and the reason she had to keep a low profile, was standing attentively nearby.
In fact upon seeing him, Magdalen became so antsy she accidentally bumped into an older woman whom had halted abruptly to chat with someone else.
“Oh … sorry about that.”
The apology was dismissed but Mags’ attention was now fixed on the men behind Cain who were busy packing up. So they really were leaving. Judging by the unimpressed look on their superior’s face, she deduced that it hadn’t been a decision he was particularly happy with. Part of Magdalen was understandably amused by this; however at the same time she remained concerned that he would exact his revenge through her brother. And then that same guilt she’d been battling with resurfaced, forcing her to narrow her eyebrows and entertain a most reckless notion.
She had to talk to him again.
Drawing up as much courage as she had in her to spare, the young woman smoothed out her blouse and approached possibly the most intimidating individual she had ever met in her life. A second time.
“Cain.”
Her voice was much more controlled than she figured it might be upon initially addressing him, however it was not without effort.
“I figured it would only be the diplomatic thing to do … to see off your departure and wish you luck despite our, well, less-than-pleasant exchange. It’s unfortunate really.”
She was surprised to discern a shred of sincerity in her voice, however the pleasantry she knew was only an indirect attempt at patching things up as much as possible before he saw to the promise he’d made her earlier.
|
|
|
|
Post by Tribulation Cain on Nov 24, 2009 0:16:21 GMT -6
"Miss Verena." He greeted her politely. Cain didn't like her. She should have broken easily, but all he'd done was expose something harder underneath. But politeness was important. After all, she had provided him with information in the end, and they were in a public location. It wouldn't do good to have him acting like an irrational beast where everyone could see.
His mother always said you caught more flies with honey than vinegar. In Cain's experience, you could honey your words as much as you liked, but you still needed someone willing to swallow them. After their last confrontation, he was certain she would treat the honey and vinegar as the same. Still... doubt was more powerful than all the sweet words or rough actions. It ate away at you, corroded. And Cain was very good at doubt.
He turned his mind to the conversation. "A very thoughtful gesture. I should have expected no less, Miss Verena. You are a very diplomatic soul." Armed with the knowledge that she wasn't the open book he'd thought, he took the opportunity to study her again. Cain choose his words carefully, speaking as truthfully as he would allow himself to. "I do wish we could have met under less stressful circumstances. I'm certain we've both presented sides of ourselves that are not our best."
|
|
