Shadows Awaken

((meta?))

(Sorry bout that. Sorta had an RP strike.)

Quickly, quickly, the Dathvaen moved, and still Eric watched with a morbid fascination. The conversation went on around him, and he tried to tie it all together. Weeping Angels, what were those again? Oh, those were those angel statues that caused time distortion...or something like that. Was that what was moving across the floor? He peered at it and tried to decide if it looked like an angel in flight. No, he decided it was much too slow and slug like. Well, maybe the angel was disguised as a slug? But if so, why was it disguised? And what was it trying to do? Protect them? He knew angels were supposed to be nice, friendly, and protect you, though the tone in Jack's and Charlotte's voices had implied that they were mean, and he didn't understand that. Or why they were crying either. Maybe the shadows were the angel's tears falling as it flew...no, that didn't make sense either, because they'd be in little patches, not as one big slimy slug creature moving across the floor.

He sighed quietly, as he was really getting nowhere with his train of thought, and Jack and Charlotte were busy on a different subject. Yet another one he didn't understand. What did a book have to do with the woman being dead? Whatever it was, Jack wanted it, and Eric's attention moved back to Charlotte as Jack suddenly wrapped his arm about Eric. He was startled at the action, looking up at Jack. Nobody had ever hugged him before, or put their arm protectively around him as Jack had done. If his parents had ever done so...he didn't remember. Nobody at the orphanage did, that was for sure. He stared up at Jack wonderingly, trying to imagine him in place of his dad. Right now, Jack looked big and fierce as he held his hand out for Charlotte's book.

"Why will the drag-Reaper come after her if she reads a book? And why is she supposed to be dead?"

With his attention now on Jack and the woman, the Dathvaen had slid into the shadow of the bookshelves, out of sight and out of mind...for now. He didn't have to wait long for something to happen though, because there was the sudden screeching howl of the beast that had burst through the wall. He cringed against Jack's arm as he looked up through the hole, watching as the massive form of the flying dragon soared over head. It had finished its meal in the city and was either going home...or coming back for more.

Charlotte handed over the book to Jack with a sigh. She wasn't sure who she trusted anymore, but she had to do what she had to do. "I skimmed the first ten chapters. Nothing I didn't already know - well, a few words and terms - what's PTSD? - but nothing about Marat or myself dying. Just family and education background." She looked nervously at the time distortion in the wall from which the Reaper had emerged. How many Reapers were there in this strange pocket of the universe, and would they all be coming for her?

"Okay, Captain. Tell me the truth. On a scale of 'I'm completely safe' to 'I'm dead already no matter what paradoxes that causes', how dangerous are these Reapers?" She turned to glance at Eric. Jack had his arm around the boy protectively. "And if we are in mortal danger, how are we getting him somewhere safe? This is no place for a-"

There came a screech from overhead. The Reaper. Charlotte swore mentally and moved even further away from Jack and the book, and thus further away from Eric. Maybe that was a good thing - she shouldn't have dragged anyone into this, much less a child. She'd just wanted to live in peace. Was that such a crime?

You gave up peace when you stabbed someone.

It was in the midst of the French Revolution. You had no other choice, and you did not want all this time-bending nonsense to happen.

She took in a deep breath. "What do we do to fix this?"