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stuck_mynockThe room glowed faintly green from the light of the kolto tank. It was the only light that still worked propery - The cheery yellow lights flickered on and off.
”We’re associating with petty Outer Rim warlords now? I’d no idea we were so desperate.” Roza remarked, dryly, as Bob brushed away the dust from the plaque beneath the tank, his face lighting up with a broad grin.
“Evidently. But he’s a powerful petty Outer Rim warlord, and he has connections that will be useful to us.”
Roza shifted her form into Atton’s, patting down a particularly spikey tuft of hair.
“And that’ll satisfy your little obsession.” At Bob’s glare, he shifted into another form, hair turning garishly red.
Bob shook his head, quietly, looking up at the figure that floated in the tank, then down at the plaque.
L. Wulfric.
Damage to his spinal column.
Severe burns.
Brain dead.
“Miriam,” Bob called, absently patting his leg. His legs still ached, occasionally - Phantom aches that he knew had nothing to do with their being crushed a year before (Miriam had healed them of any damage, after all) but more to do with his own fear. “We have need of your talents.”
-------
To say Wulfric had awoken with a bang would’ve been to give him too little credit. Even lacking his full powers, the outburst of energy he’d created when he’d awoken had left every other tank in the room ruined.
Bob stepped over a piece of rubble, towards the figure in the corner, gnawing on an apple and watching him with bright, golden eyes, almost hidden by his hair.
“How does it feel, eating for the first time in almost thirty years?”
Wulfric didn’t respond.
Bob persevered: “At least answer this - What do you say to my offer?”
A lopsided grin spread across Wulfric’s face.
“I’m game.”
”We’re associating with petty Outer Rim warlords now? I’d no idea we were so desperate.” Roza remarked, dryly, as Bob brushed away the dust from the plaque beneath the tank, his face lighting up with a broad grin.
“Evidently. But he’s a powerful petty Outer Rim warlord, and he has connections that will be useful to us.”
Roza shifted her form into Atton’s, patting down a particularly spikey tuft of hair.
“And that’ll satisfy your little obsession.” At Bob’s glare, he shifted into another form, hair turning garishly red.
Bob shook his head, quietly, looking up at the figure that floated in the tank, then down at the plaque.
Damage to his spinal column.
Severe burns.
Brain dead.
“Miriam,” Bob called, absently patting his leg. His legs still ached, occasionally - Phantom aches that he knew had nothing to do with their being crushed a year before (Miriam had healed them of any damage, after all) but more to do with his own fear. “We have need of your talents.”
To say Wulfric had awoken with a bang would’ve been to give him too little credit. Even lacking his full powers, the outburst of energy he’d created when he’d awoken had left every other tank in the room ruined.
Bob stepped over a piece of rubble, towards the figure in the corner, gnawing on an apple and watching him with bright, golden eyes, almost hidden by his hair.
“How does it feel, eating for the first time in almost thirty years?”
Wulfric didn’t respond.
Bob persevered: “At least answer this - What do you say to my offer?”
A lopsided grin spread across Wulfric’s face.
“I’m game.”
