The mood in the inn was getting downright grim, but I stood my ground as I placed myself between the crowd and the girl they'd been about to try to lynch. Without some pretty fair evidence that she'd committed more crimes than just 'being a meta', I wasn't about to let them drag her out for god-knows-what sort of punishment they had in mind, and the language they were using to describe her made it pretty clear that it was going to be downright ugly.
That's when the Big Guy came in. "And just what might be going on here?" he demanded as he looked over the situation. He stood head and shoulders above everyone there, including me - I'd peg him as nearly eight feet tall, easily - built like a bruiser. The sort who could pick up the whole inn and toss it at someone, if he had a mind to. What really got my attention were the big fox-like ears poking up from his head, a match for those on the girl I'd been protecting. After listening to the various stories the crowd was feeding him, he came over to me, hitched his hands in his belt, and waited. Fortunately, the crowd seemed inclined to let him handle the situation.
I drew myself up to my tallest, looked him in the eyes, and smiled, warm and friendly. "I'm not too terribly fond of lynch mobs," I said, and he smiled back and nodded.
"Neither am I," he said in return. "So, you're the one Himself is after havin' me keep an eye on, hm? I'm beginning to be thinking this won't be too terribly much of a chore after all."
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.
That's when the Big Guy came in. "And just what might be going on here?" he demanded as he looked over the situation. He stood head and shoulders above everyone there, including me - I'd peg him as nearly eight feet tall, easily - built like a bruiser. The sort who could pick up the whole inn and toss it at someone, if he had a mind to. What really got my attention were the big fox-like ears poking up from his head, a match for those on the girl I'd been protecting. After listening to the various stories the crowd was feeding him, he came over to me, hitched his hands in his belt, and waited. Fortunately, the crowd seemed inclined to let him handle the situation.
I drew myself up to my tallest, looked him in the eyes, and smiled, warm and friendly. "I'm not too terribly fond of lynch mobs," I said, and he smiled back and nodded.
"Neither am I," he said in return. "So, you're the one Himself is after havin' me keep an eye on, hm? I'm beginning to be thinking this won't be too terribly much of a chore after all."
--
Sucrose Octanitrate.
Proof positive that with sufficient motivation, you can make anything explode.