"...The father. The father, I will kill. Not the wife. Not the child. I've done some killing lately, but I'll not have innocent blood on my hands."
"You want to do me a favor for helping your sister with those goons last night?
Raise the child. Give him the Thornton name in my place, and take him for your own. A life for a life. He'll serve as a hostage if need be, and I'll kill him myself if he ever raises a hand against you.
[2] William stares at you, surprised and shocked by your reluctance. Then, he laughs. "Okay." He agrees, rapping on the table with his knuckles, laughing, "I'll raise him. I'll give him all the training a young Thornton gets. I'll be the person he looks up to the most in this world—the one he respects and loves. I'll give you plenty of time to bond and make friends with him, too. Then, when he turns sixteen or seventeen, I'll put a pistol in his hands and tell him who killed -both- of his parents. His cousins, the people who would have raised him." The smile is gone in a flash. "You. You'll take the blame for this whole operation in his mind."
"I'll wager he tries to kill you-- and fails. And you'll gun him down to survive. You seem to wager that he'll appreciate being left alive enough to forgive you. So, yeah, I'll take that wager with those odds. Will you?"
He slumps back in his chair, drawing two auto-syringes from his belt and tossing them on the table towards you. "The woman dies with her husband, and I'll take the baby in. Unless you decide you don't want to deal with that trouble. If the mother lives, and the child lives with her, this becomes incredibly complicated. My father will get involved. He doesn't have my kindness and sympathy."
"And hey, if the kid dies, well, that's one less problem -you- have to worry about down the line."
The server brings out the collection of freshly cut [fruit] and cheeses, three plates, one for each of you. Emma looks at it morosely, silently, before resuming her watch on you with a worried look on her face.
"I don't want him dead because I like killing children, Pheobe, Emma. I want him dead because babies grow up, and orphans are full of resentment."
You are Pheobe Gainer.
Local Time: 20:15, 1/2/2010
You are peckish
Your back is healing.
You have a headache
Neck:
A comfortable mesh of grey kevlar. Over Body:
A grey, armored duster, marked with symbols. Torso:
A new, fitted grey shirt with long, tight sleeves. (hidden)
Lower Body:
New, Grey semi-formal pants.Hands:
A pair of leather gloves. Feet:
Woolen socks(hidden)
Feet:
A pair of fur-trimmed leather boots.
In Holster: A brand new, grey las-pistol 240/250
[1.1 credits] in local bills
Overload: Beginner.
Healing Factor: Beginner.
You are under contract with The Brotherhood of Scholars for twenty-four years. Grandmother(adopted): Mother Nicole, (Cordial),
--Contactable through Mail, Tyler Hop
--High Influence with Scholars, Crusaders, the Thornton Family
Contact, Military Trainer: Tyler Hop (Cordial)
Friend: Emma Thornton (?)
--Low influence with The Thornton Family
Schoolyard clique:
--6 young men and women, of intelligence (respectful, friendly)
--3 young men and women, of strength (respectful, friendly)
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 242496 times)