❴ THOUGH THE SILENCE ❵ was a means to show her dissatisfaction with him and conjure some sort of regret the World Eater found little use in her ploys. Sanguine eyes remained vigilant. From her face they fleetingly stared upon his scaled hands, virgin gauze stained with ink, trailing so that he peered out the rear mirror. Anxiety simmered in his core, sure that every moment his eyes laid upon the reflections of the world left behind their travels there would be the odious presence of the enemy. The nip to his cheek released an unconscious, glottal noise not far akin from a growl, eyes - the darkness around them giving the illusion of sunken - glaring at her.
❝ Hero is far from the correct statement. ❞ A pause. ❝ Do not go home. ❞
“I don’t give a fuck what you want to call it,” she snapped back. She hit the brakes hard, jerking them to a hard stop a hairsbreadth from the car in front of them. Her horn blared and the car ahead of her beeped back. “Asshole,” she breathed, her knuckles turning white, then green, against the steering wheel. At Alduin’s request, she shot him a look. “Giving orders now? You can’t do that unless you tell me what’s going on.”
❴ CLANGING UPON THE ❵ cracked steps, the anceint weapon fell to the ground, fingers rolling to ease his joints from the death grip that had shown no mercy to the hilt. Gaze was concerned with the surrounds as the final steps were taken towards the flashy BMW. A single fluid motion opened the door, slid himself in, then sealed it as quickly as possible. Her demand of staining the finery of the interior went nearly unheeded besides a sound of acknowledgement protruding from his throat. Stretching his hands before him, he studied the strange manifestation. Veins had darkened into black snakes beneath his greyed skin, dark bags beneath his eyes. The dovahkiin hadn’t the symptoms he showcased, making the numbing sensation of such scaly growths all the more irritating. Looking towards her for the first time since he had entered the vehicle, he found himself gracious for her quick recovery, though chagrinned all the same.
❝ I had told you not to come. ❞
She would have been otherwise preoccupied with leaving the weapon, especially one as archaic as Alduin’s, but with what his viselike grip had done to the hilt, and what had sprung from his arms, she knew there likely would not be any fingerprinting, and no DNA traceable to the dragon’s black ichor. Em’s eyes again drifted to his arms, then his puzzled expression. She would not pry yet, not when she was about ready to tear his head off. With a few sharp, illegal maneuvers, she was speeding off back towards the penthouse, silent for some minutes before she replied, “And I told you not to play ‘hero’ when the sun’s still up.” A snake shot out from her wig and nicked his cheek with dagger-sharp fangs.
❴ NO FURTHER MESSAGES ❵ came through the communication device, its bright screen glaring up at hime blankly with the time. She never listened. He had not been telling her to keep away as a male who had won her affections, but as a Nordic god. But black letters on a small screen could hardly convey the imperative nature and tone of voice. Once he rolled his fingers into the black stained gauze wrapped around his palm, the ends catching upon hooked claws. Long strides carried him through the desolate, abandoned bank back towards the surface. A steel, bloodstained sword gripped in another fist of claws. Dark, scaled protrustions had ripped through the jacket he’d stolen [it was better than his blood stained one before], eyes darkening into the the sepulchers of crimson. He would have to meet her before someone else did. As nice a vehicle has hers would attract attention in these ruins of Chicago.
The tires of Em’s custom-made, black BMW Alpina B7 screeched in tandem with the hisses of her snakes as she rounded the corner. One of her snakes was loose from the wig, coiled tightly around her phone. Find My iPhone pulsed on the screen. She thanked Athena for putting the idea of adding Alduin’s phone to the app into her head, then cursed the goddess for not helping her brute of a boyfriend. Could gods from other pantheons even help each other out? If not that, then perhaps knock some sense into him? Do your random, irrelevant thing as always, Grey Eyes, she muttered to herself, then floored the gas pedal. It was not long before she met up with him, right at the outskirts of the slums. Before she even stopped, she was rolling down her window. “Get in.” His current state would be terrifying to a human, and it just took one call from police to fuck up their lives. Em’s eyes zeroed in on the bloodied sword. “Don’t get blood on my leather."
