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Aug. 5th, 2005 09:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lastgunslingerRoland lets go of Mal's hand and steps forward, moving with tight, hair-trigger grace, as though he could snap at any minute but for steel discipline and control wrought by years of experience. The way he moves, he's not conscious of the weight of the iron at his hip. It's an extension. This is his natural state.
It's terrifying.
He gathers each one of them with his eyes. "Ninety-six minutes. That's what we've got. We don't have time for heroics. Get in, do what you must, and get out."
There's a kind of cold serenity to Roland Deschain. Always has been.
"If there are questions -- if you're not certain what you're supposed to do -- any questions at all -- now's the time."
Complete silence.
His eyes glitter with something akin to
(no prisoners)
malice.
"Then stand, and be true."
He turns to the door.
"You heard Mal. Let's go."
It's terrifying.
He gathers each one of them with his eyes. "Ninety-six minutes. That's what we've got. We don't have time for heroics. Get in, do what you must, and get out."
There's a kind of cold serenity to Roland Deschain. Always has been.
"If there are questions -- if you're not certain what you're supposed to do -- any questions at all -- now's the time."
Complete silence.
His eyes glitter with something akin to
(no prisoners)
malice.
"Then stand, and be true."
He turns to the door.
"You heard Mal. Let's go."
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no subject
Date: 2005-08-13 01:44 pm (UTC)She turned her back on him once. She just hopes to God ka doesn't put her in that position again.
How can you turn away from your father's face twice?
She draws, the heavy heirloom of her lineage in one hand, one of Crowley's guns in the other, and prepares to follow Roland Deschain into the teeth of death again.