[attr="class","samjermain"]
When Nikita responded, his voice exuded neutrality. The derisive little sniff easily vanished beneath his honeyed tones. “I see.” Politely, he listened to Josh’s explanation.
The detective knew a thing or two about nicknames. Fortunately—knowing a few relatives with bad tattoos—stopped him from attempting to choose a name for himself. In his earlier days, journalists tossed monikers at him like darts at a board. Few of them gained any traction. Partially because those writers were
bad at their jobs, and partially because he refused to acknowledge any of them. Unfortunately, his luck ended shortly after his children entered kindergarten. Fortunately, it was not a
ridiculous name like the attempted
Blue Falcon and
The Hound of Ecruteak.
The speed type? A simple race? How
quaint.
“What an interesting specialty.” Nikita murmured to the younger man. Though a layperson would be hardpressed to find him
interested.
“My homeland rarely deviates from elemental castes.” When he’d been a child, the detective thought he might lead a gym one day. In his imaginings, steel bent to his commands. These days, he found himself much more at ease with the ghoulish. A reflection of his own soul.
“Perhaps I will bring Samuel for a visit one day.” If he could find a place to squeeze it besides vengeance and adultery investigations.
Fortunately, the young man agreed to the task with little fanfare. His lightened wallet returned to his pants pocket shortly after.
“Thank you.” Hopefully, his client did not mind him tossing the cheater a figurative bone. When his name went unrecognized, the dark-haired man relaxed a modicum. Though he doubted he’d ever
truly be at ease again.
“Ah, yes, thrilling.” In truth, he did not believe he qualified as
fun these days. Even as he went to take his seat, he did not notice much in the way of merriment. In many ways, he was a Rapidash with blinders on.
Had he ever been this peppy or naive? It was
exhausting. Still, he could understand a young man’s desire to play a knight. Nikita supposed he did that as well, only it was no
act and his armor was
black instead of gleaming.
“There is only so much serendipity can do.” Nikita paused.
“So, I will hope you do not get skewered instead.” With that, the agent bowed out to find a seat in the crowded bleachers.
Still, he watched as the woman went up to retrieve her prize. Her new partner followed at her heels like a rather overweight Granbull. As they grinned and accepted the prize, he settled back into the uncomfortable, boiling embrace of the bleachers. Not a fan of crowds—and much more easily able to evade them—the Houndstone was nowhere to be seen.
Settling into his seat, Nikita took a break to watch the performance. Josh’s first opponent seemed much more in line with the typical joust. A large, muscular woman perched upon the broad back of a dappled chocolate Mudsdale.
[attr="class","samjer","samjertag"]
