As Kasimir sat there, sipping coffee with the devil, he wondered how his life had ended up here. A week ago, he had been staring at the walls of a jail cell, with no plans of seeing anything else for the rest of his life. A year ago, he would have expected to get his ticket punched in the line of duty any day now. And ten years ago he would have been beating a man he didn't know within an inch of his life over unpaid debts, or getting some 'alternative' payment from some desperate working girl.
Lives changed, as did people, as did expectations. So here he found himself, at a strange place, in even stranger company...having been offered his last, best chance at redemption. The opportunity to finally balance the books, life-for-life. One down, sixteen to go. And while he doubted Eerie kept score, perhaps make some progress on washing away at least some of her own sins.
That thought brought his attention back to the creature sitting beside him, presently engaged with tossing back the last dregs of from her cup and releasing a contented sigh. It was jarring, seeing such a normal, human gesture come from what he had become convinced was no less than a literal demon. It made him think as to her true nature. Did she even still have a soul, after having shed her mortal coil? Was paradise even achievable for such a creature? And without the offer of reward or threat of punishment, what cause would she have to fear the divine? They weren't questions Kasimir was qualified to answer, he was no guru, but it did nag at him.
He was jarred from this musing when she explained why the security was out of her control, and that he'd have to follow her lead, and trust her. Kasimir almost laughed at that, but manages too keep it down to a single 'ha'. There was no way he'd be relying on the witch to do any more or less
than she already had. That was good enough, it meant she wouldn't intentionally kill him yet...but for her own selfish reasons. She was having far too much fun toying with her new ball of yarn to toss it aside quite yet.
The Marine snorted on his way out, when she told him to keep up. Eerie was 5' nothing and, while hot as hell, had nothing near what one would call a 'sprinter's physique'. Outpacing her would be easy, he thought. And then she did her...thing.
Kasimir didn't know what to call it. Magic seemed too fantastical a term, a word for something beautiful, like a miracle. This...wasn't that. It was a demonstration of something that simply felt.... unnatural, a change the witch forced upon an unwilling reality without the slightest regard for it. Kasimir couldn't help but turn his Kara and utter a prayer under his breath before stepping out onto the shadow-stuff.
It was solid, bearing his weight easily, but also...not, giving the impression of the textured ground beneath without him actually standing on it. It was slick, somewhere between glass an oil. And then it was gone, fading with distance from the witch, who's almost gliding steps propelled her ever forward, faster than should have been possible.
Knowing this was his idea, the Khalsa had little choice but to start running, keeping his eyes on the path left behind the witch but far enough back to not have to walk on it. And, well, if it provided him an ideal view of the oh-so-perfect perfect sway of her hips, well, that was on Eerie for showing off.
They began a long, roundabout circuit around the property. Kasimir found the pastoral landscape...oddly serene, if unfamiliar. He's spent his whole life between big cities and warzones, the kinds of places that just screamed for one to keep their guard up. Here, there was nothing, so far as the eye could see. What Brooklyn saw as boring, Kasimir saw as beautiful.
While he'd kept up well enough at first, Kasimir began to lag behind. Despite a longer stride and being in peak human condition, Eerie was inhumanly fast an inexhaustible. The property was also far larger than he'd anticipated. There was no way for the soldier to keep up, but that didn't stop him from trying out of sheer masculine pride...until he couldn't.
Next he knew, Kasimir was leaning against a tree, puking his guts out like a fresh recruit straight off the bus at Parris Island...a familar experience. But Coffee and Creole? Not the best taste.
He was afraid the witch might just leave him there, surrounded by landmines and god-knew-what else, but a glance to the side showed her slowing and turning back for him. He would have thought it touching, that concern, if he wasn't absolutely sure she just wanted to laugh at him.
"Point made...you're fast. You cheat, but you're fast. " The man stated with only a hint if bitterness as he forced himself to cough up the last of the bile in his throat.
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