18 // Written/Action

[nothingtobelieve]

[Vicious had originally been content to sit out the castle's latest trick, not bothered by the imposed silence. But he had kept an eye on what was happening, and when things had begun to look less benign, he'd packed up and started his return 'home.']

I'm back.

[The writing is neat, spare, the message as brief as his original departure. It had taken the better part of the day to make the return trip, which meant there was a tall, silver-haired shadow moving through the town and then the castle, red-eyed bird perched on one shoulder and a katana sheathed at his hip. Certainly not anything suspicious.]



[Gren]

Are you safe?

Comments

[Vicious]

[both_neither]

[There's an almost-audible breath of relief.]

So far.

Been spending most of my time at Caritas. Supposed to be protected.

[Gren]

[nothingtobelieve]

'Supposed'?

[He doesn't like that ambiguity. Nevermind how little concern he has for his own safety]

[Vicious]

[both_neither]

They say it's magic. Depends how much you want to trust it.

Safety in numbers, at least.

[Gren]

[nothingtobelieve]

How reassuring.

[It wasn't, in the least]

[Vicious]

[both_neither]

[His optimism only goes so far.]

What do you want to do?

[Gren]

[nothingtobelieve]

I'll come find you.

[There doesn't seem to be a better option presenting itself at present]

[Vicious]

[both_neither]

I'll wait here.

[Though, whether or not Vicious meant to bunker down there with him was up in the air. Caritas was frankly not at all his type of bar.]

[Gren]

[nothingtobelieve]

I shouldn't be long.

[Unless he ran into trouble, but he wasn't anticipating it.]

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

[Spike recognizes the handwriting instantly. The way the last couple of days have gone, he's been expecting to see something surface from him.

Even if he wasn't involved, Spike imagines he'd be delighted to hear the outcome.]

How was your trip?

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

Uneventful. It seems I almost missed the real party.

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

Almost.

[Part of him still doubts that he went anywhere at all.]

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

I doubt you're enjoying it much.

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

[Why couldn't it just be him? As if Spike needs another excuse.]

Not everyone has their heart in it.

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

So it seems. How unfortunate.

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

For some more than others.

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

You, especially.

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

[There's a delay before his response.]

Why's that?

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

You seem to have trouble keeping friends.

Written;

[gottaknockhard]

That just leaves me with my oldest.

Written;

[nothingtobelieve]

So it seems.

[gottaknockhard]

[In the silence, the sound of a slamming journal might be heard. Enough is enough, and writing out threats isn't the same as acting them out.

All he needs to do is find him first.]

[nothingtobelieve]

[He would have laughed at that abrupt dismissal, were he able to. Instead, he smiles to himself as he continues his way back to the castle.]