Courfeyrac carefully maneuvers his way through the rapidly filling airport, looking for the others, his bag held close to his body. His arm's still sore from where he was vaccinated yesterday, a fact he notices when someone runs into him.
He doesn't mean to give the person a glare. He's fairly certain he's not even very good at glaring--glaring tended to be more Bahorel or Combeferre's strength than his. But the man who ran into him still starts away, muttering a string of apologies, and no one else comes near him.
All right. Time to take a deep breath. The plane ride's going to be difficult enough without making it so no one wants to talk to him. None of these people are responsible for Enjolras and Grantaire being missing. None of them are responsible for the possibility of supernatural... whatever being involved. None of them have any control over whether or not the plane with him, Bahorel, Combeferre and the rest crashes, and some or all of them may die if it does.
And that's the problem. He really hopes that the plane crash that caused all this was mundane, that it's nothing that's going to happen again. What are the odds, right? But it frightens him, the thought of people dying pointlessly, helplessly, because of something that he and his friends did.
Though the Amis didn't cause the first crash, and there's nothing to say that there'll be another crash. Letting out his breath in a slow sigh, Courfeyrac scans the area again and spots Bahorel, pacing a hole in the floor. Smiling at the sight of his friend, he changes his path and raises his arm in greeting. "Hey there! You're looking a little too energetic for a seventeen hour plane ride."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2013-02-27 01:26 am (UTC)He doesn't mean to give the person a glare. He's fairly certain he's not even very good at glaring--glaring tended to be more Bahorel or Combeferre's strength than his. But the man who ran into him still starts away, muttering a string of apologies, and no one else comes near him.
All right. Time to take a deep breath. The plane ride's going to be difficult enough without making it so no one wants to talk to him. None of these people are responsible for Enjolras and Grantaire being missing. None of them are responsible for the possibility of supernatural... whatever being involved. None of them have any control over whether or not the plane with him, Bahorel, Combeferre and the rest crashes, and some or all of them may die if it does.
And that's the problem. He really hopes that the plane crash that caused all this was mundane, that it's nothing that's going to happen again. What are the odds, right? But it frightens him, the thought of people dying pointlessly, helplessly, because of something that he and his friends did.
Though the Amis didn't cause the first crash, and there's nothing to say that there'll be another crash. Letting out his breath in a slow sigh, Courfeyrac scans the area again and spots Bahorel, pacing a hole in the floor. Smiling at the sight of his friend, he changes his path and raises his arm in greeting. "Hey there! You're looking a little too energetic for a seventeen hour plane ride."