"Y'know," Listener commented. "Fluke, you really need to step up your smack talk game. Unless you're trying to be cute. It's okay though, I'll play with good ol' Ruski. You can keep up your color commentary. You're great at it."
"Oh, I'm adorable, but it's nothing to do with smack." Fluke laid back on top of the weapons chest, bouncing a leg on his knee, twiddling with the controls of the drone.
"Make sure you don't catch ol' Ruski's crazy, I'm not liable for your work-related accidents, whatever happens."On the steps overlooking the market, Ruskali sat with his arms on his knees, his head bowed, rocking back and forth and muttering to himself between intermittent sobs. His coarse hands clenched and released, he breathed in the sugary-sour smells that wafted over the colorful crowd, and he pushed himself to his feet.
With a sag of his shoulders, Ruskali quietly descended the stairs. He kept his unfocused eyes on his feet, mumbling incomprehensibly, and somehow still managed not to bump into anyone on his way toward the main street, the long way home.
As he trudged closer to Listener, the smell became pungent. Ruskali reeked of body odor, but also a powerful stench of sage and cinnamon, as if he'd bathed in incense. This, too, ensured that the crowd gave him a wide berth as he walked.
"I try, they don't listen," he murmured. "No one hears. I'm sorry, my dear, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." He stopped when he caught a glimpse of Listener's mask and he peered sharply at her, his grizzled beard pulled in a frown. He studied her a moment, shifting back and forth on his feet. "You have a mark on you," he told her factually, as if he were reading words that were written on her forehead. "The witch lies. You will die in three days."
"I've got eyes on the Nox," Cedar said, the tension in his voice subtly suppressed. "It's going for an armadillo, so I'm going to take a jab. I'm... not sure if I'll need backup or if Ruskali has anymore around, though." ... Cedar readied himself, gripping his weapon hard, then jabbed forward with the spear head of his weapon, trying to intercept the Nox on its path towards the armadillo while also keeping his distance.
"Okay, well, you take a jab, Ced, I'm sure the Nox will sit 'n wait for ya to finish explaining what yer gonna do before you do it. They're friendly like that." Fluke grinned toothily while the drone whirred round and round like a halo over Cedar's head, which did absolutely nothing to help.
The spear sliced the air directly in the Nox's path-- a clean hit! --but Cedar's blade passed right through with only a shimmer of light to show for it. The Nox, however, noticed: It twisted and writhed like a smear of black paint, then wrapped itself around Cedar's spear, lunged along the shaft and swallowed Cedar's hand in jagged jaws.
Nothing pierced Cedar's skin-- the Nox had no real teeth to bite with --but immediately his hand would feel frozen and numb. His fingers rapidly turned blue and purple, as if his hand were submerged in ice water.
"Heads up!" Remembering Archer's warning about bright lights, she narrowed her eyes and pressed the trigger. An energy bullet illuminated the space like lightning as it shot past the Nox, denting the wall instead.
The bullet ricocheted and exploded in a burst of white-bright light that blinded the alley (and Cedar, too, if he failed to close his eyes at Rose's warning). With a high-pitched screech, the Nox let go of Cedar's hand and flung through the air, away from the light--
--and
smacked like putty into Rose's mask.
The Nox immediately wrapped itself around Rose's head and clung to her mask like black oily taffy, shifting and writhing and hissing while it blocked the holes in her mask, rendering her not only unable to see but with a finite amount of air to breathe inside the mask.
The Nox clung to Rose like a cat clinging to its mother, glaring in Cedar's direction as if he were responsible for the bright scary flash of light.
"Rose, it seems like you and Cedar are having fun on the ground! Good for you guys, but I went through a lot of trouble to get up here, and I'm gonna need a few minutes to catch my breath. Meantime, I have eyes on Ruskali. I'm gonna divert to keep an eye on him. If he looks like he's getting too close to home I'll body block him, he doesn't look like much."
From her perch high above, Iris could see everything: Ruskali's confrontation with Listener. Rose and Cedar messing with a Nox in a narrow alley. Fluke wiggling his feet in the air while he mashed buttons on his controller. The ebb and flow of the clueless crowd that moved and flowed like the tide, full of every color of the rainbow, guided by roots and leaves.
And she could see the source of the sickly blue smoke: an oil barrel burned atop an abandoned building whose windows had long ago burst with twisting trunks and scrapes of ragged branches. The roof was cracked from the pressure of the roots beneath; the thin leafless branches (possibly dead) clattered in the breeze, stuck like pins high above the rooftop. The building had been abandoned for years at least.
But beside the blue-burning barrel stood a figure shrouded in a heavy wrap of orange cloth. The unidentified person's face was hidden deep inside the bright hood, another wrap of cloth held tight around their nose and mouth against the stench of the smoke.
The hooded figure raised their head and looked directly at Iris with bright, glowing blue eyes.
From her perch, if she looked close enough at the distant sky beyond the mountain, Iris might see a strange dark, shimmering cloud shifting like starlings in the sky.
Slowly, it was coming closer.