[ Forgive him if he wears just what he thinks of Gale's method of leaving "as much space" between Godfrey and vampires as possible on his face.
Laughable on its face. Gale had done no such thing. The both of them knew it. The space left between the two of them had been something which never gave him a moment's peace. How it was ever closed, and how he had never known, and all of the things that Gale had done to cultivate his foolish cluelessness had danced in Godfrey's thoughts every night that had passed since the Society had first approached him. He found fresh agonies each time he revisited the distance that Gale now claimed to so painstakingly maintain.
Gale thinks him that same foolish child, clearly. He thinks him pliable and stupid, a harmless lamb. He hadn't expected a lion to understand the power a lamb could hold, of course - but this flagrant patronization makes his hands pull tight behind him. Gale could truly not imagine him as anything but a fool to be toyed with - never something that could stand on its own two feet, taller and brighter than he ever had.
Another slow, seething exhale. ]
Your broodmates confiscated my rucksack. It's made of rugged black leather.
[ Perhaps this would convince him, if he could look past the name on his fake ID. ]
You usurpers seem an organized sort. [ And yes, that edge is placed with intent - sharpened into the title, so that Gale might see that he is no clueless child any longer, that he has now seen more than his share of nights and forbidden literature. ] Surely it is stored somewhere nearby, and surely you have access to it. Find it. Tell me what is inside.
no subject
Laughable on its face. Gale had done no such thing. The both of them knew it. The space left between the two of them had been something which never gave him a moment's peace. How it was ever closed, and how he had never known, and all of the things that Gale had done to cultivate his foolish cluelessness had danced in Godfrey's thoughts every night that had passed since the Society had first approached him. He found fresh agonies each time he revisited the distance that Gale now claimed to so painstakingly maintain.
Gale thinks him that same foolish child, clearly. He thinks him pliable and stupid, a harmless lamb. He hadn't expected a lion to understand the power a lamb could hold, of course - but this flagrant patronization makes his hands pull tight behind him. Gale could truly not imagine him as anything but a fool to be toyed with - never something that could stand on its own two feet, taller and brighter than he ever had.
Another slow, seething exhale. ]
Your broodmates confiscated my rucksack. It's made of rugged black leather.
[ Perhaps this would convince him, if he could look past the name on his fake ID. ]
You usurpers seem an organized sort. [ And yes, that edge is placed with intent - sharpened into the title, so that Gale might see that he is no clueless child any longer, that he has now seen more than his share of nights and forbidden literature. ] Surely it is stored somewhere nearby, and surely you have access to it. Find it. Tell me what is inside.