@storhct
imari really derives no pleasure from something like this. but he’s been lenient in the past at the cost of the people he loves. he’s assumed the best of people too easily. or tried to find a diplomatic solution where there wasn’t one. that being said, imari values a certain level of diplomacy. it keeps things in order, keeps them in this particular life for a little longer.
you get it --- killing is usually his last resort.
but this witch is hellbent on tearing through amelia. it’s not totally uncommon that a witch gets in their head that bringing about one of the blood oak deaths is going to bring them more power. and maybe it will. but usually they’re easily dealt with, sent away with their tails between their legs. but this one’s more trained, a legitimate threat. his time with the westwicks means that imari is used to a certain level, a certain kind of dark magic, but this witch exudes something else entirely. when his fingers are only beginning to spark with a spell, imari can smell it & it chills his blood. he has to wonder if it’s someone sent by the collector he and ciaran have been talking about a little. it’s just too strange an area of magic to have wandered into gloucester on its own.
either way, imari has to act quickly because if he lets her get a spell going, there might be some actual energy. flickering between human and more, imari plants himself between his witch and the stranger. before anyone can react, there’s a concussive blast in the stranger’s direction that leaves him on the ground with ears bleeding, no doubt his eardrums have been blown out. and then imari is across the few feet and a throat is torn. it’s a quick, merciful death, even if it’s not precisely painless.
he turns now to amelia, expression guarded.
“sorry you had to see that. ”
