in a blink & in one motion
rope constricts / rips her towards the ocean
rope constricts / rips her towards the ocean
Sabrina watches the hustle and bustle of current events and numbs herself with drink. Normally, she would avoid such chaos of the populace like the plague, but such a gathering like this increases the chances of someone who knows something. She hangs around the drunks and bargoers listening for loose lips and watches the fireworks, sees the artists making their many depictions of Adonai and thinks the Solterrans must be grateful to have another asshole to put on the banners.
That whole Solis thing was wild-- and to make it worse, she’d just missed it. The God-king, or whatever. She didn’t really think Solis was a god. In her homeland, anyone with strong enough magic could style themselves a God, and anyone who could tell half the difference would be zapped into oblivion.
If a not-god-king-wizard fells a nonbeliever in the forest, do they make a sound?
(Delph could’ve been a god.)
So she drinks her whiskey and fake stumbles out the door, pretending to be more intoxicated than she actually is (she isn’t.)
Her eyes catch some shadowy figure heading the opposite direction of all the rest, and her brain (not drunk, but… smoothed?) thinks yeah, that guy looks up to something. So she ducks her head and forces her way through the crowd, almost impaling some poor onlooker on her useless, golden horn (maybe it’s not that useless. Maybe she could use it as a knife. Or, like, to make gyro meat?)
She follows a bit back of the shifty guy, all gray and striped and the color of thunderclouds at sunset. She cuts down a side alley and when she doesn’t find him walking on the other side, doubles back-- he’s gone, but there’s an old building there, decrepit, abandoned, and the door is open. It’s been opened for the first time in a long time, Sabrina realizes, because she can see the dust and sand buildup on the floor, an outline of the door’s movement, whereas something open and shut regularly wouldn’t have near as much.
She hears Delphine’s voice in her head. It’s just a three week long junior detective’s summer camp, Beans!
Before the big guy re-emerges, Sabrina shifts around the shack, listening for his hoofbeats to fade. Then, she takes a turn, expecting to find… well, meathooks with skeletons on them, or some poor, emaciated victim chained up and dead in a corner. Instead, it just smells like dust and old metal. There’s an anvil here, she realizes, buried under a metric fuckton of dust; a bellows, a rusted old grinding wheel. Coals so old they turn to grit when you breathe on them.
It’s an old forge. A boring, old forge.
Used to disappointments by now, Sabrina doesn’t even heave a sigh-- just exits the building on the trail of the man she followed and heads back towards the places with the alcohol.
She catches up to him halfway through the return trip. “That your old forge back there?” she asks, voice low, and slightly husky from drink. “Or, like, a family thing?”
"SPEECH" ! @Leviathan
