{OPEN}
Who: Everyone/Anyone!
What: Exploring the Casino, Take 1
Where: The Entertainment District
When: after this and this
( Read more... )
What: Exploring the Casino, Take 1
Where: The Entertainment District
When: after this and this
( Read more... )
[This is the casino "intro thread". If your character will be exploring the casino (in a group or otherwise), please post their "intro" here first before proceeding on. That way we have a quick rundown of who is actually wandering around.]
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from the start, he'd acted in his self-interests, faithful to her to the end, answering to nobody but her. (which, he remembers, caused the commodore so much ire - because he couldn't understand what motivation could be so powerful, perhaps.) and the magisters, for their part, weren't in a position to force hands. not when half the disasters could only be counted as interesting for people like giovanni, or a bit of light entertainment. once ammunition was freely available, he'd even started to settle into something like routine, punctuated by heine's presence, and briefly by lily. by those familiar visits, and the ringing of gunfire and the influence of the spine digging into his nerves and muscles, down to the marrow in his bone. that had been enough for him.
... at some point, though. between the reforming of the city and the prospect of losing the only important thing left, there was a little bit of overlap generated. because one of the magisters preserved something important for him, at a time when nothing else could be assured.
she's never suggested that he owes anything. but it isn't about that, really, and it isn't as though he's the type of person who feels compelled to return any favours. not exactly. it's something else about her, something more than just skin and surface. a sort of fascination.
there's no guarantee he'll find what he's looking for by doing this. but if he does, she might indicate what will happen next, and what he should do. (what she wants him to do.) it's more than compelling enough to dress in the pretence of investigation, at least. in this case.
(you've become strange, haven't you. is this what your voluntary actions have come to look like?
this is why dogs can't run amok.)
he looks up over the casino's entrance hall, with all its elaborate decoration and vibrancy of colour, and waits for the others to arrive. what there is some guarantee of is seeing some familiar faces. and that's something else he is, in some way, counting on. (because, hahah, while it'd be wrong to say he needs that sort of thing... it wouldn't do to write all the players out after the first act, would it.)
he smiles, waiting patiently. and looks back when he hears the first commotion at the door. ]
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[Belin, as polite as she can be, isn't the Magister that engages so casually with the foreigners. That's Dai domain and will always remain his with Belin having such little interest in the joys that the Fire Magister thrives on. Manipulation through communication of just about anyone and everyone isn't her guilty pleasure.
However, there are special individuals-individuals that catch her attention like no other-that she makes exceptions for. She knows well that the foreigners are fragile in their states (they might disappear before she even is able to notice their unique presence) within Nuadoria, and that keeps her away, unwilling to waste her time with such fleeting opportunities. Sometimes, however, a few have proved not only interesting, but stable in their stay here, as well. Did they understand, truly, what that meant? How special and important they were to the entire game, to Nuadoria itself, to her?
Most likely not.
Giovanni is one of those, although she admits to herself that her interest in his has bloomed late. He's been here far longer than most-in fact, is it possible he has been here the longest?
...Special and precious, indeed. Very important to this city. And that meant important to her. It only piqued her curiosity more that he just so happened to have her element under his control-was it a sign of something greater? Or just simple coincidence that she shouldn't look into further (or be disappointed by her findings)?
It may just be the time to find out.
She wears attire suitable to attending such a place in the evening hours, a dress in all white and heels to match. She is most certainly here to be entertained for the night, although by what, exactly remains to be seen.]
Has someone's lack of punctuality caused such?
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But what he will do is tear this place apart, structure by structure, if it means getting a clue to going back home. So what he's done is leave the makeshift house they've made of themselves at this wasteland, and thus, leaving Reanbell behind, guns loaded. It doesn't help that he's switched his machine gun out for her handgun-she's sure to notice the switch-up, if she's not already trailing behind him already.
Which he figures she is, at this point.
What catches his attention most is someone he's unfamiliar with and someone else-what was his name, Heine?
No... someone else.
Regardless of the fact that he's Heine or not, or anyone related to the dog, Zephyr doesn't care much about it at all.]
You're in the way. Move.
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zephyr doesn't hold much hope of catching his attention just at that moment, even if he's faintly conscious of the arrival of others, and all that waiting suddenly doesn't seem particularly important. he turns to look at her, his expression lax, almost blank. he opens his mouth to say something, but fails to.
(something about the white dress seems particularly appropriate, though it doesn't immediately come to mind why.) ]
Wait. [ it's obviously meant for zephyr, even if he doesn't look at him. he finally manages, after another pause, to address belin directly, and he absent-mindedly moves to unbutton his jacket, drawing a gun to hold at his side. it's there for zephyr's awareness, more than anything. ]
... I thought you might be here, after all.
[ he doesn't have to explain that he was hoping he'd see her. she knows, by now. ]
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Ah, well. Off he goes and he seems to have a very specific purpose for being here. She'd simply have to find out later, if at all.
Belin turns back to Giovanni (she pays little mind to Giovanni's actions: if he wants to potentially shoot someone, by all means) a light titter escaping her throat at his words. Is that so, Giovanni? Would that also happen to be why you're standing by yourself in the entrance?
Curious.]
Ah, so it's me that's kept you waiting, is it? My sincerest apologies.
[Of course he doesn't have to explain, but she'll play the part of oblivious because it suits her best. Just an act, really, one put on for the rest of their surroundings to perceive, not Giovanni himself. Belin glances off towards the doors leading to the main floor before looking back to him. A pretty smile perfect for a pretty face is offered before she speaks.]
Then, perhaps it would not be so rude of me to ask if you'd join me for the evening? Your company is most welcome.
[Afterall, she's sure that whatever happens, they'll both be wonderfully entertained. ]
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He's not going to wait just because a bowl-cut loser tells him to. Zephyr's too cool for that, and he wants to lose someone's trail-waiting isn't an option.]
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E-excuse me, I don't want to interrupt, but I'm looking for someone. It's important. [He stole her gun!!] His hair is blonde, he's about your height [directed to Giovanni] wearing a red jacket... and... [she bows apologetically as if already sure Zephyr's been an ass to someone in this two person party] ...a little big aggressive in his manners.
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but he'll save it for later. for when this is over.
he looks back to belin, and then moves to step up next to her, though he doesn't so much as touch her. it's a strange feeling, to have someone who isn't her, who isn't fruhling, but to feel something akin to. almost.
... no. it's not the same. but there's no other mode of comparison, when everyone apart from her is something 'other', and belin herself seems to be neither, not some human, not some grey shade from outside of the underground, but something else entirely.
- and their quiet is broken again.
he turns, looking at this other girl who's arrived, and giovanni is only half listening, still, which is why it takes him a moment more to process what she's asking. ah. ]
... Has he brought a friend? [ he smiles thinly, and slowly turns his gaze in the direction the man left in. he isn't feeling charitable, particularly - but where something doesn't affect his own decisions, if it gives them privacy again, he doesn't have a reason to be evasive. ] ... But he left you behind.
You'll need to run.
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[She says this with a concern that's hard to tell if its sincere or an act. Truthfully, it is sincere, she already knows about the three intending on exploring the top floor and the ones doing the same only in the basement.
Belin turns, then, to look at Giovanni before offering a gloved hand for him to take. Another invitation, nothing else, but still another invitation. One that much closer.] Come. Unless you'd rather us stay here?
[If nothing else, the Air Magister is curious. Curious to see if Giovanni accepts, curious to see if he'll take her hand. The foreigners are all different and put in this position she could think of dozens of reactions possible were it anyone but the young man standing next to her.
And if he doesn't accept?
Belin won't mind it too much, just simply smile and do the same as she would should he take it. And that would be either a) leading him to the main floor or b) taking him there by hand. Despite her verbal offer, she really isn't planning on keeping the both of them at the entrance. Too many interruptions possible. They've already had two in the few minutes they'd been standing there.]
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it's her hand. four fingers and thumb where he, for whatever reason, expects five alongside her thumb. that, and the realisation that nobody has ever extended their hand like this since he's become an adult. such a thing as 'charity' or 'generosity'... his heart lurches, discomfort gnawing at his insides, a childlike anxiousness.
whether he should take it or not, he can't dispute. but what kind of person would extend their hand to pick up trash.
he moves to take it slowly. but he touches her hand like a foreign object, not quite grasping it in the correct way. it's the hold of someone who has never, as a child, held hands, or felt that sort of contact with another. one can't precisely hold a hand as they hold a gun.
he looks up at her and smiles thinly, polite and detached, much more confident than his hand betrays. and he goes with her. ]
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