[ There's a figure standing in one of the hallways, just ahead. He must have escaped his room's confines earlier, right? Everyone else is locked up or being released, so that must be the case. He stands with his head tipped slightly to one side, and a 3-pronged blade extended from each wrist.
Vanadi doesn't wait, if he's approached by a Transport. One moment he's standing still and quiet, and the next he's leaping straight toward whoever is nearest him, left blade already drawn back to spice across whatever he can reach. He looks grim, behind the flashing blades, face gray and lips thinly pressed together. Clearly, this is not his ideal way to spend an afternoon. ]
[ b: later ]
[ Later, much later, finds Vanadi subdued, crumbled unceremoniously in one of the seats on the train. He's looking bloody (not all his), bruised, and very possibly dented, and is having trouble moving. In fact, he can't move at all — his system has been knocked offline. It's for the best, really. He has just enough organic material to his throat and jaw to be able to speak, but not much else. He watches people as they pass for lack of anything else to do, but at the first sign of eye contact, drops his eyes to the floor. One of them, anyway. The other has swollen shut. ]
in the compound / on the train return trip
[ There's a figure standing in one of the hallways, just ahead. He must have escaped his room's confines earlier, right? Everyone else is locked up or being released, so that must be the case. He stands with his head tipped slightly to one side, and a 3-pronged blade extended from each wrist.
Vanadi doesn't wait, if he's approached by a Transport. One moment he's standing still and quiet, and the next he's leaping straight toward whoever is nearest him, left blade already drawn back to spice across whatever he can reach. He looks grim, behind the flashing blades, face gray and lips thinly pressed together. Clearly, this is not his ideal way to spend an afternoon. ]
[ Later, much later, finds Vanadi subdued, crumbled unceremoniously in one of the seats on the train. He's looking bloody (not all his), bruised, and very possibly dented, and is having trouble moving. In fact, he can't move at all — his system has been knocked offline. It's for the best, really. He has just enough organic material to his throat and jaw to be able to speak, but not much else. He watches people as they pass for lack of anything else to do, but at the first sign of eye contact, drops his eyes to the floor. One of them, anyway. The other has swollen shut. ]