[John's lips tilt upward in a very slight smile. Things are not so bad. In the future, John should probably avoid announcing his presence with a red laser sight. Especially in combat scenarios.
Harry's instant invasion of John's space is comfortable and familiar in a way it really shouldn't be. A powerful entity without a sense of personal space would earn nothing short of a bullet between the eyes if they were not Dresden. It certainly makes the night more interesting. What more could a man want with his evening but a deep, cold night, a rogue dryad, and a tall, dark and magical man who smells like smoke and static?
John of course doesn't let any of that show. Not the time, especially after their last meeting. His voice is cold and quietly furious.] She has been preying on my people, and Summer is going to pay for their trauma and injuries. If any changelings have been seeded in these last weeks, I am going to want that dryad's life along with a weregild. [There's a sound to the right, and John swings the rifle up, peering into the dark.] I imagine a wood nymph burns quite well, Mr. Dresden. I wouldn't mind finding out for certain.
[It's that moment went the fucking tree seems to take offense, slamming a branch into John's side, sending him stumbling.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2012-11-07 01:35 am (UTC)Harry's instant invasion of John's space is comfortable and familiar in a way it really shouldn't be. A powerful entity without a sense of personal space would earn nothing short of a bullet between the eyes if they were not Dresden. It certainly makes the night more interesting. What more could a man want with his evening but a deep, cold night, a rogue dryad, and a tall, dark and magical man who smells like smoke and static?
John of course doesn't let any of that show. Not the time, especially after their last meeting. His voice is cold and quietly furious.] She has been preying on my people, and Summer is going to pay for their trauma and injuries. If any changelings have been seeded in these last weeks, I am going to want that dryad's life along with a weregild. [There's a sound to the right, and John swings the rifle up, peering into the dark.] I imagine a wood nymph burns quite well, Mr. Dresden. I wouldn't mind finding out for certain.
[It's that moment went the fucking tree seems to take offense, slamming a branch into John's side, sending him stumbling.]