[Even though he was getting exactly what he wanted, it didn't feel like a victory at all. For all the painstaking steps he had taken in order to be seen as an adult and being taken seriously, this had undoubtedly landed him back to square one. He let out an exhale of relief when he heard Ciro's footsteps slow to a stop outside of the door. He didn't need to see the other boy to feel his worry and confusion and anxiousness.
Steeling himself, he started to recreate his face, layer by layer of skin at a time, the work shoddy by his standards, but even most illusionists wouldn't be able to sense it. Still, for someone who knew his face as well as Al and Ciro, it would be noticeable. To think he had decried other illusionists for their vanity, and yet here he was doing the same, if not worse.
He couldn't even allow himself to enjoy being scooped up ( though a proper illusionist would always take note of the texture of someone's skin, their scent, and their musculature ), scowling slightly.]
I can walk.
[But he didn't exactly struggle, focusing on smoothing out the illusion of his face, leaving the bruising and some of the blood to make it somewhat believable.]
You're stubborn enough to walk on shattered kneecaps- that isn't saying much.
[All too aware of Ciro's presence anxiously waiting outside, Lancia at least keeps his voice low. Besides, Faustino is already using up more of his energy than he can say he really like by hiding his injuries with an appearance. The least that can be allowed is that he carries him back to their vehicle.]
[Once it's clear that Faustino has finished, Lancia finally takes him out into the hallway. Ciro is exactly as he looked when Lancia left the younger man to watch the security station: paler than a ghost, eyes dark as pits, and quietly shaking against all his best control. He's at Lancia's side in a second, murmuring Faustino's name and only barely resisting the urge to touch. But then again, maybe that's because Lancia speaks up then, dissuading him.]
Not now, Ciro. Go get the car started up, and check in on Al. Alright?
[A mute nod as he still levels a worried gaze over Faustino- and then there's a click in his eyes. A realization. Lancia can guess what it is that has his lips thinning, brow furrowing, but... To his credit, Ciro says nothing. Not right then. He simply nods, and hurries away to do as he's told.]
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badliifechoiice22016-01-08 10:36 am
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Steeling himself, he started to recreate his face, layer by layer of skin at a time, the work shoddy by his standards, but even most illusionists wouldn't be able to sense it. Still, for someone who knew his face as well as Al and Ciro, it would be noticeable. To think he had decried other illusionists for their vanity, and yet here he was doing the same, if not worse.
He couldn't even allow himself to enjoy being scooped up ( though a proper illusionist would always take note of the texture of someone's skin, their scent, and their musculature ), scowling slightly.]
I can walk.
[But he didn't exactly struggle, focusing on smoothing out the illusion of his face, leaving the bruising and some of the blood to make it somewhat believable.]
end scene??
[All too aware of Ciro's presence anxiously waiting outside, Lancia at least keeps his voice low. Besides, Faustino is already using up more of his energy than he can say he really like by hiding his injuries with an appearance. The least that can be allowed is that he carries him back to their vehicle.]
[Once it's clear that Faustino has finished, Lancia finally takes him out into the hallway. Ciro is exactly as he looked when Lancia left the younger man to watch the security station: paler than a ghost, eyes dark as pits, and quietly shaking against all his best control. He's at Lancia's side in a second, murmuring Faustino's name and only barely resisting the urge to touch. But then again, maybe that's because Lancia speaks up then, dissuading him.]
Not now, Ciro. Go get the car started up, and check in on Al. Alright?
[A mute nod as he still levels a worried gaze over Faustino- and then there's a click in his eyes. A realization. Lancia can guess what it is that has his lips thinning, brow furrowing, but... To his credit, Ciro says nothing. Not right then. He simply nods, and hurries away to do as he's told.]
[It's going to be a hell of a drive back home.]