goon squad

Aloys felt like a toppled castle of cards knocked over by a trite little ant. (Not that Avorra was an ant, but because he was so close to obtaining a proper report, only for his smart, urban mouth to sabotage him. He buckled himself back into creamy courtier dialogue: )

I need you to stay. Please won't you, Lady Nyllian? he replied to her, the kow-tow dry and chill, with a peachy soft aftertaste. Five minutes, at most. He bowed where he sat, but stopped mid-bow to protect the sheets of paper from the jostling of the wind.

Anyway, I don't understand what arrows you speak of. Everything is dead for a mile around, isn't it? He gazed perplexed at Nyllian, then at Avorra frolicking away. She left him quite speechless - a prankster one second, in her own world the next. Fairy-like, or child-like, or madness-like? Whichever one, she shook him when she acted in satire of her age most of all. It suggested the thought that any grown woman could harbor a being like hers in secret. It suggested a great deal about Nyllian, too, with how successful the invasion was going when they worked together.

Either way, they were all Elves. He too had his demons. Who was he to judge if another seemed kicked in the head at times? At the end of the day, Aloys was responsible for ensuring the Eth were executing a respectable military maneuvre, as it certainly could not be written as a murder-clown fiesta in the history books.

He raised an eyebrow towards his remaining superior, wondering if Nyllian could sense his protectiveness of Avorra as they watched her leave. He guessed it was evident in his refusal to speak of their ways with any true criticism. For despite her queerness, he considered these monsters beside him just a product of a terrible world that desperately needed to change.