05-02-2014, 05:55 PM
Ford had a habit of watching faces. He'd had a habit of watching nuances since before he fell--that's what he did. It held true today, and the flicker of pain across Magnus' face tightened his chest. Not with sorrow for him, but pity.
Centuries being grounded, and even Ford missed the sky.
"It'll be cold," he called, leaned down to turn the nozzle. "As for the hiding, it's just like it's always been. But it'll be harder to reach, and it'll exhaust you. You don't know how much I had to use to ward that park," he tested the water before lifting the nozzle, pressed his thumb over the end. The water pressure around his thumb went up and he lifted the steam, starting at Magnus' feet and lifting it slowly up his legs. He'd start at the back, but the man had suffered enough pain.
The weirdest thing about this guy was the eyes. They weren't the eyes of an angel, they shouldn't be. He wondered if he'd been drawn by accident to an Ascended, but the remnants of the wings weren't right for that. It was angel, despite his strange eyes. They were distinctive, and he wanted to remember why he recognized them.
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