we'll save this earth, but into jars

Max Klein · 09-07-2012, 03:58 PM

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By and large, Max’s interest in fixing things was based on a subconscious need to repair, though he was not aware of it and certainly didn’t think of himself as broken. Rémy had been the one who had steered him in that direction, and it was better than getting stitched up or beaten upon by the angry man. Though he no longer hated Ezekiel for what he had done, the resentment had turned black and joined the host of other unsolved emotional issues deep in his belly. Max dealt with his emotions, as he had always done, by ignoring them and turning them inward. It explained, perhaps, why he was so eager to meet violence with violence.

Even though he found the whole display a bit ridiculous, Max found himself again thinking of Draugr, wondering if he would ever see her again. Salsola was so close, but he feared their borders. He remembered the people that had come from that place and was not fooled by the girlish scouts that had met him before. Monsters lived in there, of a nature entirely different than Inferni’s own.

“Oh a’course,” Rémy exclaimed, and gave Asher a firm pat on the back. “I teach erry’one how to do dis. None of ‘em ever be as good as me,” he went on, grinning cockily. “But dey tink so. Even Miz ‘ere Vesper’s gaienne, she jus’ as skinny as you n’she pick up de stick. Ain’t as good wit it as she is wit her beb, I tink,” His little joke was an inside one, and flashed with a wink towards the Centurion.

Max rolled his pale eyes obviously and leaned back in his chair, rocking it onto two legs. A breeze brought a peculiar odor with it and he crinkled his face. “What is that?”

Rémy, now stirring the pot with a large spoon, waved his hand dismissively. “White Lightnin’,” he explained. “Won’t be done till winter. I ever have you try dis, cheri?” He asked Vesper, motioning to a clear jar on the counter. “I make a fine ‘shine.”

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