His fingertips recoil by instinct, and Chilton slowly leans back onto his haunches, effectively kneeling before this man dressed in black. His crawl towards safety already upended, Chilton had little recourse left than to talk his way out of a painful situation. Eying that barrel, the doctor took a measured breath inwards.
And smiled.]
You are an imPort. [It was either that or this was a highly fetishistic bank robber, a dilemma Chilton had considered just before the eerie shadow play. But the vehicle crash soon clarified the matter, as violence often does.] Just as I am.
[The ceiling sprinklers above, now triggered, drenched the tension -- but did not drown it. Water had a funny way of magnifying. Bells screamed within the hollowed room, the shrieking trill a match to Chilton's own panicked pulse. He didn't spare a glance to the remaining hostages. His focused found dedication in only this man and his cocked gun.]
We should leave. [We. As if they shared any sort of kinship through an imPorted circumstance.] The police will come, you will be outgunned. We really ought to leave.
[A whisper crawled from the back of his mind: if this man could teleport like some brimstone devil, why didn't he just teleport into a banking vault instead? Was it the drama he wanted? The adrenaline he craved?
no subject
His fingertips recoil by instinct, and Chilton slowly leans back onto his haunches, effectively kneeling before this man dressed in black. His crawl towards safety already upended, Chilton had little recourse left than to talk his way out of a painful situation. Eying that barrel, the doctor took a measured breath inwards.
And smiled.]
You are an imPort. [It was either that or this was a highly fetishistic bank robber, a dilemma Chilton had considered just before the eerie shadow play. But the vehicle crash soon clarified the matter, as violence often does.] Just as I am.
[The ceiling sprinklers above, now triggered, drenched the tension -- but did not drown it. Water had a funny way of magnifying. Bells screamed within the hollowed room, the shrieking trill a match to Chilton's own panicked pulse. He didn't spare a glance to the remaining hostages. His focused found dedication in only this man and his cocked gun.]
We should leave. [We. As if they shared any sort of kinship through an imPorted circumstance.] The police will come, you will be outgunned. We really ought to leave.
[A whisper crawled from the back of his mind: if this man could teleport like some brimstone devil, why didn't he just teleport into a banking vault instead? Was it the drama he wanted? The adrenaline he craved?
Did he just desire to display some showmanship?]