Cat.Chrestomanci
¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Not a Bad Slime
Blood, injury, a simple reminder of their own mortality was enough to shake up some of the observers. Society had settled at a sort of uneasy peace, with the Lackluster living in luxury. With the safety of their status, what did the denizens of Luxem have to worry about? The Blessed were oppressed and kept in their places by anti-blessing technology. There was no crime committed, only a clash between magic and technology. This was a grim reminder as to the unspoken conflict between the Lackluster and the Gifted and the careful balance that was upheld. What was presented to them was the harsh truth that their harmonious lives were built upon bloodshed and inequality.
He always stayed as far away from anti-gift technology as he could, for it would undo that which was quite literally holding him together. He thought he knew where all of the anti-gift machines were between him and the cafe where he worked. Even if he didn’t, he was usually able to keep a careful eye out for anything that might disrupt his magic. Today, he had been running late on his way to work. The cafe was managed by a charitable woman who had decided that charity work for the Gifted made her an absolute saint. She was such a good woman that she would allow the Gifted to be employed in an upper-class establishment. It was absolutely sickening, but work was work. And the woman was even accommodating of her employee's condition, turning off the tech at the employees’ entrance when he came to work.
The young man had strayed a tad too close to a nullifying machine and what little colour he had in his pale face drained as he felt his left arm get lighter and heard the thud as something fell to the ground. The screech confirmed his suspicions. The segment of his arm from just above his elbow down to his hand had separated itself from the rest of him as the magic was deactivated.
It was everything he could do to keep his right calf from following suit as he stumbled away from the glinting machine that he spied out of the corner of his eye. Warm red liquid dripped down from the point of separation but quickly stopped as he bound the two pieces back together. In a flash, he had stooped to pick up his fallen arm and before too many had gathered, he shouldered his way through the crowd, reattaching his arm as he sped through the throng of people. The blood that ran down his fingers stopped when it was successfully reattached and no longer left the trail of his departure.
His soft, blue-black hair fell messily about his head with a slight wave to it that made it sit at an odd angle in places. Although he was of below-average height, he was able to move swiftly through the crowds, heartbeat pounding in his ears. Tensions had been rising recently between the Gifted and the Knites and his sister had warned him that it wasn’t safe for him to continue to work outside of Noxeria, especially alone. Now that he had been revealed as a Gifted, it was probably much more dangerous for him to be out and about. Instead of running toward his work, he had turned tail and run back toward the safety of the district of the Gifted.
He just hoped that no one would try to follow him. Many of the city-dwellers seemed preoccupied enough with facing the dark reality that provided the foundation for their comfortable lives, but he couldn't be sure that no one had peeled off and decided to investigate the bloodied boy weaving between the relaxed pedestrians. His kind was tolerated in the city, but that was all. They were mostly confined to Noxeria and lived in the slums that basked in the beauty of the greater city of Luxem. Any excuse to apprehend or intimidate the Gifted was exploited by the Knites, making venturing into the city less than desirable. There were only so many that could pass in Luxem, those with their blessings hidden from sight.
