fixedpointintime: (studying)
Jack could see the mass of brown curls from his window, attacking a market vendor for some insult. He strongly suspected that the insult was being exaggerated, or perhaps completely fabricated. But he could understand the impulse. She was mostly alone again. Jack was a little upset that the tree hadn't taken her home - Cassandra of Troy was a huge thorn in his side. Of course, he was also enormously glad she hadn't been taken home. Nothing but death was waiting for her on the other side of that rowan tree. No, it was better to have her here annoying him than to have her back in the world she knew bleeding out on the bath tile.

Somewhat reluctantly, he tore his gaze away from the window and focused again on the work before him. They had lost more than half of their number. They still had enough power to hold control of the city. But their numbers had still radically changed, the average opinion had skewed, and he had to take that into account.

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fixedpointintime

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