RORY
[ I'm assuming this has to take place before Roana's PQ, as hers is specified to be before Wessex's, and Wessex's is specified to be the night after Maea's, and having Roana's PQ be before this makes no sense and if it is idk fuck me #ripsanity ]If it wasn't for Jigano receiving the same invite, Rory likely would've missed his entirely. As it was, he felt floored and stunned and annoyed and .. just really, really grouchy. He was still out by the Spire with what blood-thirsty, rabble-rousing loyalists remained, trying to make sure no one got in and did whatever they bloody pleased, and Maea went home and laid grand plans about a government.
He was bitter; Jigano was pensive, and hesitant. Unwilling. Rory didn't press, not when the man aided him in trying to prevent the barrier's fall, but he felt the same whisper of cold fear as he had in the Infirmary: what if the world would open wide and swallow him and never give him back?
He left his little garrison in the talons of the white bird, their stolen moment, away from prying eyes, too brief and over already. There were still a couple of Naturals with their heads square on their shoulders there, and he wasn't going to be long, anyway. They wouldn't derail in what little time it took him to attend Maea's meeting, and there were thugs enough to stop anyone who came near.
Rory was the last to step into the designated building. He seemed to bring a darkness with him, an atmosphere that clung to his skin and his posture, as if his days with the mob had not done him any kindness. He seemed leaner, somehow, wild, his eyes dark and sharp in a way that wasn't entirely healthy.
It wasn't that he was becoming an evil creature, it was just that his current position had him stressed and sleepless.
The others he found within were Evie (approval), Samuel (what?), and—of all the motherfucking people—Roana.
Add to that Maea, who was useless in most ways, and Rory, who was equally useless albeit in other ways. The only person worth their salt in the room was Evie. Bitterly, he thought that both Amalia and Wessex ought to have been there.
"Jigano's not coming. And what in Caido are you thinking?" he asked, tired, uninspired, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked at the porcelain girl.
as if you were on fire from within,
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
the moon lives in the lining of your skin.
