John looks sideways at Harry, taking in the man's profile and considering his words. The slightly crooked nose (broken, set, and broken again likely) is still the same shape. The eerie, moonless night light illuminates the scar through his lip, the same length and depth as it has always been. He is still a tall bastard who looks wiry like he was assembled from spare parts. Perhaps his eyes are brighter. That is it, maybe, what John finds so unsettling. There is manic light, turning his eyes to amber, and John has never seen that before. His file on Dresden-- both the mental and the one kept on his private server-- has nothing like this.
He looks away, down at Harry's arm curled around his, guiding him along. Dresden's skin is pale, and in Faerie it lacks the glamour of his patrons but still has an otherworldly sheen, like opal perhaps. Dresden is changed, but familiar, and frankly John would not be so unbalanced if Dresden were spitting invectives and snarling at him like usual. What about the mantle has made him... like this? Whatever this is?
John's joke is strained. "And one would hope that if Winter was going to use someone against me, they'd be kind enough to use someone else." He almost smiles at the thought. "Or they've heard Lady Raith's grievances." Lara Raith will never stop amusing John.
Dresden moves like a boy wanting to share a secret away from his parents' prying eyes, and it's ludicrous that John is the object of his attention right now. He has a hard time getting past why me.
Until they break into the clearing and John is staring up at what is unmistakably his city. Chicago and all of its souls are so bright, the clearing brightens from the sheer amount of starlight. He can trace the tourists out at Millennium Park, and once he spots that, he steps away from Dresden to walk underneath that spot. He can see the souls crowding around the Bean, the Cloud Gate, and he knows their faces of wonder without having to see them. They lean in close and marvel at the beauty of the Mag Mile in the mirrored surface, and Gard has told John that their regard and reverence is poured into Chicago like tribute.
John imagines that feels like this; there is a unraveling of tension in him as he holds his head tilted all the way back, following the ley lines of the city and the light sparkling in the river.
A phantom city.
This is what makes John shiver finally. He says, cool and level as he can, "Am I meant to be impressed, Dresden?"
no subject
He looks away, down at Harry's arm curled around his, guiding him along. Dresden's skin is pale, and in Faerie it lacks the glamour of his patrons but still has an otherworldly sheen, like opal perhaps. Dresden is changed, but familiar, and frankly John would not be so unbalanced if Dresden were spitting invectives and snarling at him like usual. What about the mantle has made him... like this? Whatever this is?
John's joke is strained. "And one would hope that if Winter was going to use someone against me, they'd be kind enough to use someone else." He almost smiles at the thought. "Or they've heard Lady Raith's grievances." Lara Raith will never stop amusing John.
Dresden moves like a boy wanting to share a secret away from his parents' prying eyes, and it's ludicrous that John is the object of his attention right now. He has a hard time getting past why me.
Until they break into the clearing and John is staring up at what is unmistakably his city. Chicago and all of its souls are so bright, the clearing brightens from the sheer amount of starlight. He can trace the tourists out at Millennium Park, and once he spots that, he steps away from Dresden to walk underneath that spot. He can see the souls crowding around the Bean, the Cloud Gate, and he knows their faces of wonder without having to see them. They lean in close and marvel at the beauty of the Mag Mile in the mirrored surface, and Gard has told John that their regard and reverence is poured into Chicago like tribute.
John imagines that feels like this; there is a unraveling of tension in him as he holds his head tilted all the way back, following the ley lines of the city and the light sparkling in the river.
A phantom city.
This is what makes John shiver finally. He says, cool and level as he can, "Am I meant to be impressed, Dresden?"