oh pilot of the storm

Jefferson Soul · 08-16-2010, 10:04 AM

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They were mother and son, then. It came as a slight surprise, having to remember Gabriel was once young, possibly innocent and carefree, probably even a nuisance to his parents as Maluki most likely had been. Never in his days had Jefferson expected to patch up and converse with the mother of his pack's once biggest enemy, though the Patriarch and Aquila had spoken sometime in the past after their brawl and, at least in Jefferson's mind, renewed their acquaintanceship to a better status than previous. Inferni and Phoenix Valley had not interacted since the war's end, but Jefferson had extended his hand should the Aquila need his help in bringing down Haku somehow. Perhaps, one way or another, this was where that offer of help was being put to use. Inferni or not, he could not let a possible innocent bleed to death in the wilderness.

He acknowledged the thanks by a gruff nod of the head, the cyclops silently moving to the window. A light drizzle had started, most likely to break into harder rain within the hour; unless she really desired to rush back to her home, the rain would be enough excuse to keep the recovering elder in one place long enough to heal something. The query on his eye did not fall on deaf ears but was not immediately acknowledged; still he stared that singular green out into the gray outdoors.

"A fight of some kind; I woke up with it. I'm an amnesiac." Nor could Jefferson possibly explain even a few of the scars on his littered body, a tragic but necessary reminder of the things he had done before his memory failed him—things, of course, he could not explain either. He had raped and murdered, it seemed, and those scars had become war trophies. Never in his current memory could he recall being two-eyed with full vision; his memory simply cut out at the point he awoke a cyclops. After a pause, the idiot glanced slowly over his shoulder, the green ocular glowing. "Yours?"

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