That dream we all had, where everything was different. We were in the Frostbacks, he and I were having a chat-- he got killed. Shot through the face from behind.
[He shudders slightly, in spite of himself. He's seen plenty of people die, and gruesomely at that, but the suddenness of it sticks with him.]
She appeared, not long after. With her crossbow. It was just a dream, but. [He shrugs one shoulder.]
[ There are minor tensions that form as soon as Barrow says the word 'dream', but otherwise focused forward. A stillness and silence as he listens that speaks to processing something complicated
before he dutifully sets this down onto his page. ]
And did she say anything to you then? Or on waking?
[ —asked while he writes elaborations, that simmer of frustration from before now gone. ]
For this next part, a small tell, then, from Marcus while he writes, a subtle tic at his jaw and barest shake of his head that can only translate as: this bitch.
Another two seconds of pen scratches, before he says, ]
[ Marcus looks down at his notes, evaluating them, mouth tightening in the corner with some amount of dissatisfaction, but to what specifically— ]
Aye, [ setting pen aside, and pages to dry. ]
But, [ the kind of intrusive qualifier spoken by a man who has in the past managed children desperate to also escape whatever lesson he's been imparting, and being made to sit still a little longer ] if there is more you can think of, with Fitcher, anything that seems suspicion now to you, I'd have you bring it to me.
[Having been one such child once upon a time, Barrow casts an anxious glance back toward Marcus as he hefts out of his chair, but offers a solemn nod that communicates his understanding. He certainly has no intention of seeking out Enchanter Rowntree for any reason after today, so it's for the best that he doesn't have more information to give anyway.]
Righto, [he grunts, making his way toward the door. Time to go drink away whatever the fuck that was.]
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 09:23 pm (UTC)[He scratches his head, thinking back.]
That dream we all had, where everything was different. We were in the Frostbacks, he and I were having a chat-- he got killed. Shot through the face from behind.
[He shudders slightly, in spite of himself. He's seen plenty of people die, and gruesomely at that, but the suddenness of it sticks with him.]
She appeared, not long after. With her crossbow. It was just a dream, but. [He shrugs one shoulder.]
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 09:37 pm (UTC)before he dutifully sets this down onto his page. ]
And did she say anything to you then? Or on waking?
[ —asked while he writes elaborations, that simmer of frustration from before now gone. ]
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 09:59 pm (UTC)[He looks a bit disturbed by the resurfacing of the memory,]
...in the dream, she'd said I made a good distraction.
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 10:14 pm (UTC)For this next part, a small tell, then, from Marcus while he writes, a subtle tic at his jaw and barest shake of his head that can only translate as: this bitch.
Another two seconds of pen scratches, before he says, ]
Thank you.
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 10:19 pm (UTC)That everything, then?
[Freedom. He can taste it.]
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 10:27 pm (UTC)Aye, [ setting pen aside, and pages to dry. ]
But, [ the kind of intrusive qualifier spoken by a man who has in the past managed children desperate to also escape whatever lesson he's been imparting, and being made to sit still a little longer ] if there is more you can think of, with Fitcher, anything that seems suspicion now to you, I'd have you bring it to me.
no subject
Date: 2022-08-23 10:32 pm (UTC)Righto, [he grunts, making his way toward the door. Time to go drink away whatever the fuck that was.]