these twisted skies

[Roparzh]

Einar clenched his fist on the railing, glaring at the shadowed towers as if they had done him some personal wrong. It was a brisk morning, chilly and overcast, and though the Cimmerian stood on a sheltered balcony, the speed at which the clouds moved was evidence enough of a strong wind. If he had been a wagering man, Einar would certainly have bet there was a storm coming. He drew his leather jacket close against the cold and leaned against the rail, staring at the endless ocean beyond the city. The sheer size of the city had been a shock to Einar upon their arrival, let alone the untold technology hidden throughout the abandoned structure. He felt like a child among giants, a primitive ape as Roparzh called him, compared to the ancient civilisation that had once lived here.

Einar could feel the Tok'ra stirring at his thoughts, though he did nothing to prevent them. Roparzh rarely acted on his threats these days, confident that Einar's own fear of the Tau'ri would keep him in line. Still, the pair had reached a truce of sorts - Roparzh remained in control for the majority of their days, while Einar enjoyed the freedom of darkness. Not that you could call it freedom, with an over-suspicious Tok'ra ready to take control at the slightest hint of misbehaviour. Roparzah's fears were justified in his mind - who knew what would happen if their ties with the Alliance, let alone the Teversare, become common knowledge. Being stuck with Roparzh for another century was one eventuality he didn't even want to consider.

Well that's certainly a cheery thought. Einar drew a deep breath, ignoring Roparzh's comment. His hand shifted on the balcony railing, the silver kara'kesh twisted around his arm ringing as he drummed the metal barrier with his fingers. There wasn't anything in particular making him stay, watching the darkened city come to life in the sunrise, except perhaps a wish to escape that would never be fulfilled. At least, thanks to the other Tok'ra in the city, they weren't the only recipients of mistrust. Either way, solitude under a gray sun was preferable to suspicion.

open! TAGS
february '10! DATE