[ He does look like a necromancer, here. He looks like Harrow in the bony, folded-in intensity of him; he does not at all look like Harrow in other regards, because Harrow has always turned to him like a flower to the sun. Harrow has always looked at him with desperation, or a fear that's more like awe. This boy looks at him like a puzzle box he means to unpick or a bomb to defuse. This boy has an unusual response to meeting a live grenade.
John has decided he doesn't like it much. Call that his pronouncement of the day: here, drowned in memory and a half-step from drowning in emotion, he doesn't like this kid much.
An unkind thought for God to have, but his friend seems suicidally intent on not treating him as God. ]
Got it in one.
[ His Omen as cavalier. Of course that's a local law like gravity; of course that's how it works. This is John's dream. He knows who he holds in his heart as a horrible insectoid thrum of power. Trench has never been subtle, not once.
He is already so horribly tired of this: he gives a hint. ]
no subject
John has decided he doesn't like it much. Call that his pronouncement of the day: here, drowned in memory and a half-step from drowning in emotion, he doesn't like this kid much.
An unkind thought for God to have, but his friend seems suicidally intent on not treating him as God. ]
Got it in one.
[ His Omen as cavalier. Of course that's a local law like gravity; of course that's how it works. This is John's dream. He knows who he holds in his heart as a horrible insectoid thrum of power. Trench has never been subtle, not once.
He is already so horribly tired of this: he gives a hint. ]
What can you see?