[Mini Event] To See and Pray [OPEN TO ALL]

RORY

"Yeah, fuck that," a voice growled from behind Rexanna, Amalia and Evie. Rory's pulse was an angry roar in his veins, his face a tense scowl; his blue eyes flashed, dark and wild and dangerous. He did not like this. He hated this. He had spent so much time trying to accept, overcome, make up, had spent so much time trying to embrace the fact that the Outlanders were here to stay, that they would work FUCKING TOGETHER on overcoming the Demon.

And here they were. Doing their fucking Outlander thing again. And if he had the power to strike them all down and bind them to the ground and yell at them, oh boy, he would've, a thousand times over.

Rory was, in short, fucking pissed.

He'd come up behind Amalia and Evie as they made their way towards the Spire, and that was likely the reason they hadn't spotted him. And he hadn't greeted them, because it would've been a snarl, anger not directed at them but he had every spike turned out.

And this .. woman .. Rory didn't know her, because the time she'd let him into the Temple and saved his life, he had been more or less unconscious. He couldn't know if she was an Outlander or not, but the way she stood, the way she looked, the way she spoke—

Oh, and the fact that Rory wasn't thinking, and was just looking for an outlet. A target. And she'd just painted it on her back.

He remembered standing in the fields at the Festival of Lights, his ritual invaded; corrupted. The noise that had been drifting up from the Rathskeller during Long Night. E v e r y t h i n g—

"They just want out," he went on, his voice so much darker than usual as he tried to contain his anger, and his worry (come on Remi, you know better than this...). "They don't give a rat's ass about us here. They just see the great beyond and want out without a single fucking thought, like caged dogs." He wanted to pace. He was full of restless energy. "How long have they been here? Two seasons, barely? And already they've decided we are worthless, our way of life is worthless, everything about us is worthless, because they're willing to throw our safety away for their delusions of grandeur."

Had he had fur, it would've been on end. Had he truly been a wolf, his lips would've been pulled back, every fang revealed. "I thought this was something we'd figure out together, not just them having their fucking Outlander party. Sweet fucking Safrin," and even Rory had enough sense to shut up at that point, or he'd talk until the end-times.

as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.