Thread: Meet the Author [Goody + incendo]

Television. Another thing like the explanation of the armored carriage, or car rather, and how it worked, that was frustrating in the way he couldn't grasp what she was talking about. The gist Mahon understood, at least realizing as she pressed buttons on the tiny black box and the voices dwindled to a murmur, that the people who spoke through the window were somehow not really in the room with them. And he also understood what she was saying about watching the window for signs of Gammon. Mahon didn't know how or why the window would tell her where Gammon was but he trusted her to use it that way after the way she'd come to discover him at the tavern. And he wanted to be aware of that knowledge as soon as they could have access to it as well. Leave it, Mahon nodded, giving the murmuring window an intrigued, furrowed brow look before looking back at her. As soon as it tells you where Gammon is, we must take the carriage car to him and I must kill him. Before he amasses any power in this world. He mustn't be allowed to breed his demonic armies or gain access to your dragons. No doubt, his magic will corrupt them and the peace you all know will be consumed within a fortnight. He was completely serious. Even getting accosted himself for merely having a sword in public, Mahon could see the weakness and vulnerabilities in this beautiful kingdom. It would be a feast for the Demon Lord who thrilled to slaughter innocents and corrupt the Light. Plus, Mahon had his own vengeance to unleash upon the evil king, blood lust curling in his gut to think of the final battle now, finding Gammon, vulnerable and confused, helpless in this strange land with no monstrous soldiers or demons to protect him. A low tone sounded from the washing room, Claw feeling his intense desire to kill the Demon Lord flaring up like a burst of flames within him. Mahon glanced to the side at the hall that led to that room, taking in deep, calming breaths to reassure the bonded blade, eventually the low chiming sound growing silent as Claw gleefully settled down to patiently wait to rejoin him in battle again. Looking back at Mara as she started to explain her knowledge of things, Mahon cocked his head slightly at the words she used. I do not know what that means, he said dismissively, glancing at the television window as faces came and went through it, his eyes scanning for any he recognized. The truth was...he did understand. Sort of. Like everything else, he got the gist of it. He knew what writers were, he knew what characters were, and what books were. The word created tripped him up because it was absolutely ridiculous as a concept and Mahon felt himself outright rejecting the mere thought that she had told a tale and he was somehow a part of it. I don't believe you, he finally said, looking back at her with a shake of his head, sneering derisively at her. I am not a story. My Lily, my son, they were not a story. We're real. They lived. I loved them and they have died. It is not a book. No. I will not take this. Tell me the truth. How do you know about us? Did you see us? Did you watch us through the vision window? It was the only explanation he could think of to replace her absurd lie.