all this madness, beauty, and my sadness [active/closed]

[alivemarionette]

Character(s): Nill and Sasori
Content: Nill visits Sasori at the art shop---which survived!---in the aftermath of the monster's wrath.
Setting: Ultrecht Art Supply
Time: Mid-afternoon
Warnings: This is cuter than it should be. Move along!

Comments

[silencedheaven]

Nill moved swiftly through pieces of rubble and destruction. She knew she shouldn't be making such a trip alone. Knew it was dangerous (It as always dangerous. Never safe.), knew there were many crabs now, following in the wake of Big Momma. Yet, the threat they posed never seemed to bother her, never made her feel afraid (Always would that way be if he was here. If they were here.), they were mindless. For her, it was the ones you can't identify just by looking at them, it was the monsters you can't see that one should fear. The ones with words soaked in honey, and intent oozing with corrosive poisons. The ones that looked like you.

The mute's wings standing ridged, upright, body tense (paranoia; such a fragile state. Akin to silence. So breakable, the smallest noise could cause (a jump, a scream) it to shatter) as she went through the image of the map. Path burned into her mind (Left at--, Right at--). She'd memorized the map, spent the majority of the previous night doing so (can't make a mistake, mustn't let them find me). Nill was on her way to visit someone she'd been concerned for. Sasori. No, she didn't know the man well at all. Certainly not as well as some of the other residents of Manhattan. Nor could she really read him clearly. However, those moments in the park as she watched him practice were enough. Nill had stopped attending due to certain recent events. She'd hardly been out at all (too paranoid, to frightened of things she couldn't control). She hadn't seen him present on the journals at all, especially not since the attack.

Even still, she wasn't quite sure it was that alone that compelled her to the front entrance to the art shop. Checking to ensure all her bandages (like a broken doll) were clean, in order before firmly knocking on the door to announce her arrival. She had a tendency of accidentally sneaking up on people without meaning to. That was the last thing she wished for at this point.

Without further adieu she gently pushed open the door.

[alivemarionette]

The shop had been quiet; dolls and dust and the rasp of bristles, all most noticeable without the noise of one's own breath. The knock was sharp and sudden, surprising Sasori, though it didn't startle him; his hands remained steady as he completed a brush-stroke, wondering who that was. (Deidara knew where to find him, but that had to be someone, anyone else---the bomb-nin never would have knocked; he would have kicked the door open and announced himself.)

He stood, letting his sleeve fall to cover the damage for what it was worth---and it was worth something, as his hand was unmarred, though the sleeve was still torn; he hadn't bothered to change or mend it yet. He moved to the doorway, annoyed at the interruption until he saw who it had been. (That annoyance hadn't been visible; while he considered himself open to his art, the presence of another person raised that stoicism again. It wasn't intent---it was inclination.) "This is unexpected, but it isn't unwelcome." A moment of silent appraisal passed, the puppeteer assuming it to be on both parts. To his observation, Nill seemed to have no injury impeding her movement, despite the bandages; something had happened to her, but any hurt couldn't have been severe. "I'd wondered what had happened to you, after the practices."

[silencedheaven]

Nill approached, stepping delicately, silently towards Sasori with both hands clutching a black notebook and pen. The bandages on her cheek, left arm and thigh all prickled self-consciously as she felt his gaze on them. In turn a frown painted itself easily across her features, pointedly eying the ripped sleeve. Before naturally adverting her ice blue eyes to the floor when the other spoke. The mute had felt badly about being too cautious to wander outside at dusk, too much had occurred in the last couple of weeks. Too much reason to stay indoors. She felt even worse knowing that she had hardly contacted him at all to tell him that she was well, let alone alive.

When her eyes looked up to meet the puppeteer's once more it was solely to mouth two little words,

'I'm sorry.'

[alivemarionette]

Sasori followed her gaze to his sleeve, the normal neutral expression over the annoyance rising at what he saw from his angle---the tear was positioned that it could, and likely would, reveal the absent patches of skin and the scuffing on the exposed muscle beneath, stuff dry enough to splinter as torn jerky might. Let her watch, he'd thought, when they first met over practice in the park; Let her see, now. There wasn't any point in actively hiding what he was, here; the contents of the shop would suggest it, Haine had had ample observation to suspect, and they had established a sort of trust, enough that she came alone to see him. Who would she tell?

He was art, and art had no need for hiding.

Raising his eyes as his company did, the artist nodded, seeing the statement. "It's alright. I imagine I would have heard your guardians on the warpath if anything severe had happened to you." A pause. "I was working before you arrived, but you're welcome to stay, and I do hope to see you more often again. My pieces would probably appreciate an agreeable audience."