#ofvigors

[dieswilldie-blog]

ofvigors

It was unlike them to be at a loss of words.

Rosalind held the plate. As she did many times before, she had held it- and the coin arched into the air, landed, but this time....

“It... seems I was wrong.” 

What happened? Both of their minds raced quietly- this Booker, like those before him, likely had no idea of what great thing had transpired just now. Their theories, everything they knew now was up for debate- if this constant was wrong, then what of the others? Did they traverse far enough from their own line that this one was detrimentally different? Or was it only the coin flip? 

Even so, Rosalind diligently raised her piece of chalk, slowly dragging a line onto the ‘tails’ side of the board. 

What were they to do now? 

[sanctamater]

                                               && ofvigors ;;

  Never before had she been so afraid of the law and all its officers, having trusted in the institution for so many years. Yet change required one to ADAPT to survive; always flitting about in the shadows and fearing the tread of heavy boot against wet concrete. There had to be some ravenous WOLVES in the flock of sheep, for Rapture was a cruel place to live; and denizens were hungry for coin. To make a crooked man walk a crooked mile, one had to have incentive.    Perhaps that was why she had found her way to Private Eye DeWitt’s office, fingers fiddling with the hem of sharp suit and eyes glued to purse, free hand sifting through the roll of cash unceremoniously shoved into compartment. Would he, won’t he? His premises seemed to scream impoverished; but was he HONOURABLE?