Death ain't nothing but a heartbeat away [closed]

[aspectional]

He's late.

Being in the employ of Shannon Vaughn means that being late is a bad thing and Eli knew that well, but living with his father and having to deal with him meant that sometimes he ran late because of a conversation had gone on too long or he needed to go run an errand for him. Normally, he could cheat by just teleporting to get there on time, but he still wasn't familiar with this part of town and he didn't want to be seen by anyone who didn't know about his powers. Plus, he had been ordered to go to an alley and teleporting in would just be a bad idea all around in that case.

So Eli had to run all the way from the apartment he shared with his father to the specific alley he had been told to go to, nearly getting turned around at a couple of points due to the mental map he had of the area not being fully complete yet. But he successfully got to the street the alley was connected to only a few minutes late, looking like he had run all the way from home. He took a moment to slow down his breathing and heart rate and did his best to make himself presentable. Once that was taken care of, he slipped down the alley and did his best to try and make sure Shannon didn't notice when he got to where he was dealing with whatever unfortunate person who had gotten on the wrong side of his boss.

Comments

[privatematter]

The startled man in front of them looked about ready to shake apart. Doing sanctioned footwork was one thing, but attempting to break out and make his own name and place in their world was another one entirely and it was the sort of risk that would cost someone their life if handled improperly. Judging by the way Skates reached into his jacket for his piece, "improper" was the polite way of putting it.

"Wouldn't do that if I were you," Shannon said. His attention turned back to Skates at his own pace, not seeming threatened by the gun in the slightest. Despite the glasses and his eminent confidence, it was well-known among the circles that he was blind. Well, not that Shannon Vaughn was blind, but that one of Shannon's own footmen had a visual impediment that seriously hampered his ability to work at times. Whenever he decided to toss away the veneer and show that, yes, he could indeed perceive someone brandishing a firearm at him, it was for pure power and effect. Skates' hand was trembling, hesitant, and Shannon took the opportunity. "If you fire that, you're dead. Your finger won't even finish pulling the trigger before you drop to the floor, dying in one of the most painful ways known to man. I have it on good authority that it makes slow torture feel like a blessing."

Skates was no longer hearing him. Fear had blocked out common sense and all he could apparently perceive was that this was the end for him. Not to say that he was wrong, but Shannon privately would have very much liked to get his hands on the information he had been carrying. When Skates spat out a curse and lifted the gun higher, ready to make the shot, Shannon had dealt with enough. His wrist was the first target, flesh burning and melting down as impossible heat assaulted the limb and ensured that Skates would drop the weapon to lower the chance of an accidental discharge. Next were his clothes, his hair, all of the easily flammable bits that Shannon hardly had to reach for. The extra heat made it more exhilarating to reach in and burn the air out of his lungs, make it impossible to scream while he lit up from the inside out.

Fire was a gorgeous thing, bright and warm, life-sustaining yet so easily abused into becoming a gruesome tool. Shannon afforded the proper respect for such a volatile element and was rewarded in kind for the precision and power to use it in the most elegant and showy ways possible. It was his partner and his guide. Not merely a tool, but his empire itself was built upon the ashes it created for him.

Reaching up to begin mussing his hair, Shannon turned to Eli while Skates immolated further inside the alley. "Your hair is too neat," he noted. While he could usually perceive the world around him by the vague influences of heat in people and objects, Eli was unusually vibrant, even parts of his clothes being more detailed than Shannon had ever before experienced. It was easy to see his hair smoothed out, the rise and fall of his protege's chest. "Fix that. Look distressed. We just saw a man spontaneously combust after all," he instructed with a grin that belayed the order for anxiety.