Scarecrow was right on the mark. The entire thing sounded, if the pun could be forgiven, downright fishy. Why were they being trusted with some big mission when it was obvious that Aguilar had more than enough goons to send out instead? Depth Charge could almost see the logic in choosing him for something like this- he at least had the training- but the Scarecrow? What, did secondary knowledge of witchcraft suddenly count as military expertise?
If it was a trap, it was a pretty obvious one. Depth Charge waited tensely for a response of some sort- and then frowned.
He was right to have expected a half-answer. What they got instead of facts were the usual veiled threats: consequences was the week’s buzzword, apparently. But where he’d usually have shaken them off with a sneer and a shrug he instead found himself listening carefully, working through possibilities. Consequences lurked just under the surface of the moment, like a needle under human skin. He’d seen what they could do last night. He’d watch Indiana Jones bleed out. By contrast the Scarecrow was easy pickings.
Depth Charge wet his lips, then immediately resented giving such an obvious signal of his unease. "I- I don't know." He gave an aggravated sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose as if an answer would materialise when he opened them. As far as he could tell it wasn't a dangerous mission. All they had to do was find this Rosemarie dame and get her to talk- but then why give them the gun?
Slag it. "Not like they're giving us a choice, is it?" he said eventually. "I'm in." His tone was defeated, but a steely undertow had returned to his stare. Aguilar might have handed them the mission, but he had an objective of his own: protect the Scarecrow.
The officer seemed to catch the end of the sentence, lowered though the Maximal's voice had been, and lifted his chin expectantly. "Have you decided?"
no subject
If it was a trap, it was a pretty obvious one. Depth Charge waited tensely for a response of some sort- and then frowned.
He was right to have expected a half-answer. What they got instead of facts were the usual veiled threats: consequences was the week’s buzzword, apparently. But where he’d usually have shaken them off with a sneer and a shrug he instead found himself listening carefully, working through possibilities. Consequences lurked just under the surface of the moment, like a needle under human skin. He’d seen what they could do last night. He’d watch Indiana Jones bleed out. By contrast the Scarecrow was easy pickings.
Depth Charge wet his lips, then immediately resented giving such an obvious signal of his unease. "I- I don't know." He gave an aggravated sigh, squeezing his eyes shut and pinching the bridge of his nose as if an answer would materialise when he opened them. As far as he could tell it wasn't a dangerous mission. All they had to do was find this Rosemarie dame and get her to talk- but then why give them the gun?
Slag it. "Not like they're giving us a choice, is it?" he said eventually. "I'm in." His tone was defeated, but a steely undertow had returned to his stare. Aguilar might have handed them the mission, but he had an objective of his own: protect the Scarecrow.
The officer seemed to catch the end of the sentence, lowered though the Maximal's voice had been, and lifted his chin expectantly. "Have you decided?"