The bright sunlight was streaming in through the window. Lukas had two conflicting thoughts in quick succession: ‘It’s a nice day. Too bad.’
He wasn’t being gratuitously cynical, he was just annoyed that he had slept in. He had left instructions for Lyta and Fennec to wake him and Todd before daybreak.
He knew when he collapsed earlier that morning that he had only managed 5 hours of sleep in the previous 48. He knew that when they got in to the B&B he couldn’t concentrate long enough to make any useful plans about how to deal with the Garden Party plot or Bhakir. He also recognized that pushing his team meant that he ran the risk of sabotaging Todd’s recovery and leaving him hobbled even longer or, worse yet, causing permanent limitations. He knew all this, but he was still annoyed his instructions hadn’t been followed.
He looked at Todd’s pillow fort and kicked in a wall. “I’m up,” came the defensive voice unconvincingly.
The precious hours of sleep had cleared his mind, and he reviewed his negotiations with Vendar and Benelice with mixed feelings. It was hard enough to plan on little sleep when you had all the facts, let alone when you had almost none. In the clear light of day he knew he was pretty much operating in the dark -- and that things had really not gone well the day before.
He went into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. His silicone mask had torn slightly in the night. He closed the door with his foot and proceeded to remove it, revealing his unblemished skin underneath. He was tempted to put on his brushed steel mask. Not just because it was more expedient than glueing on another scarred replica of his previous self, which he would then have to cover with makeup to try and hide the fake scaring, but because somehow the mask had become the way he saw himself. He didn't recognize this surgical reconstruction of what Lukas Lassander would have looked like as the "real" Lukas Lassander. He'd never been ashamed of the scars; in fact, he'd occasionally taken pleasure in the discomfort they caused others, on the few occasions he'd inflicted them on an audience. They were a part of him, even now--his new face was a lie, and what he covered it with was the truth.
He must still be tired, he reproached himself, to be having such indulgent thoughts. He proceeded to put on the face which he showed to the world and to his siblings. When he was done, he went over to Lyta’s room and knocked. She opened the door and let him in. She looked pissed. For a change.
“You let me sleep too long.” He decided he wasn’t going to give her time to go on the offensive.
“Yeah, well, I figured Brumhilda needed the rest,” she said sourly and threw herself down on her bed.
“Where’s the van? Fennec?”
“Nope. Our employer took care of it,” Lyta responded in a challenging manner.
“I left instructions that you were supposed to…”
“Hey, you chose to take his orders and his contract, and now we’re here doing what he says in this stupid place. I’m just taking orders, okay?” she interjected defensively.
“Fine, I’ll take it up with him.”
Lukas reached for his phone but Lyta gave him one of her patented ‘stupid brother’ looks. He put it away and raised an eyebrow.
“He’s downstairs having breakfast.”
Heavy Gear Roleplaying Game
Monday, February 3, 2014
Koreshi Chronicles - Chapter VII: The Day of
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3 comments :
Small changes.
And lo, I have read them!
So say we all
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