[Sodium_noir] Saturday Evening - En route to the Sinclair Party

[FlameFlash]

> Jack, Aurora, Christine, Mara, Mitsuko
> Temple of the Five Dragons
>
> Some myths are meant to be dispelled.  The one about
> seeing a white light at the end of a long tunnel in
> the moments before death is clearly one of those
> myths.  Or maybe, it's true for some - true for those
> who've lived a good life and deserve to be shuffled
> off into the afterlife in the warm company of loved
> ones who'd previously made this wondrous, mystical
> journey.
>
> Jack did not qualify for such a demise.  Instead, his
> last, lingering moments are more like a failing
> television set - sound fading away and picture losing
> distinction, becoming a snowy blur.
>
> And then someone torches the bloody thing...
>
> >Jack felt it. Nausea at first, and a rise in
> temperature. Strange and still not entirely familiar,
> the sensations from his body were overwhelming for a
> time. But then, on some deeper level, he felt the
> change. The wounds, his sacrifice for power, they did
> not heal. But neither were they poisoned now. The
> flesh was ravaged and scarred, but the sickness was
> burned away. All that remained now was the puss of
> dead >blood cells.
>
> > The Rote succeeds.
>
> > And Aurora crumples for a moment at Jack's head,
> laying >perpendicular
> > to his body, breathing heavily and hard.  She was
> relieved, but
> > winded.
>
> He is aware of the fire she's blasted into him, which,
> in turn, has consumed the fire that was killing him.
> He's also aware of Aurora's proximity, can feel the
> lingering sparks of energy she's expended on his
> behalf
>
> >"You okay?" asks Christine, looking intently at
> Aurora. She lets her
> gaze stray again to the entity currently calling
> himself Jack. Even
> in the short time since she last looked, his colour is
> better, his
> skin no longer beaded and dank with fever sweat.
> "Hey," she says
> "whatever you did, I think it worked! He definitely
> looks better. Lot
> less like he's about to, y'know . . ." Christine
> pauses in mid
> unfortunate comment, too late to retrieve it, "croak.
> Sorry."
> Christine casts an apologetic glance at Jack, seeing
> his closed eyes
> >tighten and flicker.
>
> His eyes open slowly and world comes back into focus.
> The first thing he sees is Aurora's face and, through
> parched lips and with cracked voice, Jack smiles
> faintly and whispers, "Thank you."
>
> He turns his head to see Christine, adding with a hint
> of arched brow, "I don't think I'll be croaking today,
> miss."
>
> Another pause.  There is a wealth of barely suppressed
> emotion and a bit of dampness in his eyes (which he
> will later swear was due to extreme fatigue and stress
> of a near-death experience), as Jack's gaze meets
> Christine's.
>
> "Thanks for saving me."

Aurora smiles at the man.  Yep, he'll be fine now, as long as he can
heal on his own, and be given enough time.

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