Hana "Hannah" Sato (night_yen) wrote in forgotten_gods, @ 2009-10-09 14:13:00 |
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Entry tags: | nergal, raphael, sato |
Chi Vola Vale / Chi Non Vola non Vale / Chi Vale e Non Vola è un Vile
Who: Sato // Nergal // Raphael // and Lt. Arthur P. Collins (NPC)
What: Just another Friday night kidnapping.
Where: Bellevue Hospital (and beyond!)
When: Friday, (late) night.
Why: Sato keeps her promise. Nergal keeps his date. Raphael would settle for keeping the peace...
Sato kept her promises.
It was, in her opinion, a vastly erroneous character trait and one that she'd gladly scrub out of her habits--if not for the fact that she'd promised not to. It was a contract she'd yet to chew a loophole in.
Which went a long way in explaining why there was a small, elegantly dressed figure waiting politely--and discreetly--in the evening gloom by the Bellevue hospital emergency entrance. It didn't quite manage to decode the guarded resignation of her expression.
We don't even like each other... Or at least they certainly hadn't in the past. Indeed, Sato had many fond memories of wishing great evil upon the very same man she was now--apparently--due to steal away from the clutches of the modern health care system. With the help of a Mesopotamian war/plague/horror deity, no less.
Yes.
Right.
Brilliant.
There was probably a mental disorder for describing this sort of thing in humans, she decided gloomily. Something involving age and hormones and declining sexual inclinations and-and some other finicky mortal obsession. Times like these Sato was halfway tempted to assign herself a midlife crisis, if not for her resolution to outlive language. (With the current linguist estimate of 7,000 tongues in play, she figured retirement was a long way off. Of course, the fact that only about eighty-three had global influence and were written was worrying.)
She tilted her head and considered the sky. Not a perfect night: overcast, with the promising scent of rain. She'd prefer less clouds and more stars, but...ah, well. It would serve, and what else was there to hope for?
Overall, Sato supposed, there were worse nights to die.