Jace Herondale | The Mortal Instruments (hatesbergamot) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2016-11-14 21:12:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, !open, adam milligan (equallycursed), ~2016 november, ~40 points, ~~~jace herondale (hatesbergamot) |
WHO: Jace Herondale and OPEN
WHAT: Being followed...he hopes
WHEN: Monday evening
WHERE: An alley
WARNINGS: TBD
STATUS: Open/Ongoing
Jace was well aware that he was not going to be winning any popularity contests at Madison Valley. The truth was that he simply didn't care. So much of his life had been spent nearly alone that he'd quickly learned to extract from himself the need for any sort of external validation. He could take care of that himself. And he was perfectly aware that he was one of the most handsome, most talented, and most legendary Shadowhunters that had ever lived.
What did he care what a bunch of Mundanes and Downworlders thought of him?
He didn't, not at all.
There were a very small number of people whose opinions mattered to Jace, and that list began with Clary, and included, to varying degrees, Alex and Isabelle. That was...well, that was it. Any other opinions on his performance or on his worth amused him more than anything else.
That was why, even though he was aware that nearly everyone he'd met in Madison Valley hated him, he was actually feeling rather happy today. He could remember Clary, their relationship seemed deeper and more intense than ever, and while he hated being in Madison Valley, maybe it was time for a very short vacation.
Or, maybe it would have been if this place hadn't been so ridiculously boring.
He'd just finished a workout at Anytime Fitness, and was heading home when he sensed someone behind him. He turned. They turned. He ducked into an alley. They followed. Interesting. His heart started pounding in his chest, and he felt his adrenaline building. Perhaps a demon had followed him. Perhaps he was about to get attacked by a whole nest of vampires. Anything to make this place a bit less tedious.
In a blur, he whirled around, his seraph blade drawn and at the neck of his follower.
"Who are you? And why are you following me?"