On matters of style, swim with the current, on matters of principle, stand like a rock.

[bonhomme7h.livejournal.com]

Who: Réjean & Ilde
What: A swap meet gone wrong, leading to swimming lessons.
Where: The Gross Tar
When: Newdi evening
Warnings: Réjean. Eye gore.

Among those he deals with it's common knowledge that Réjean can do things that aren't typical for a vanilla human, but the actual extent of his abilities are a closely guarded secret. Some men say that he's just a man with a few flashbang bits of magic that he's stolen, while others are convinced he's just a step below the great and powerful Oz. In part, it's for occasions like this that Réjean cultivates this ambiguity.

Within moments of stepping onboard the boat and heading out into the Gross Tar's current, Réjean knew that this meeting was unlikely to end well. The blinkmoth dealers of Head and Verso regions were too gregarious, too willing to meet on the river, and underneath it all, he could smell that they, and the heavies hidden below decks, were gut-churningly nervous.

Both practically and mystically, running water has a great many uses: it weakens many types of spells, bars some fae and undead from crossing, and in this particular instance, can provide a convenient, if undignified, escape. Once the first shots were fired, Réjean turned and with a hideous wail, clutching at crossbolt bolt protruding from what was once his eye, tipped over the railing and dropped into the river. With hardly a ripple to mar the surface of the water, Réjean sank below the range of the dealer's guns and crossbows.