Nightshift 56: Bill's Hardware

[she_is_ruin]

[from here]After dashing over to the hardware store, it was Yomi’s turn to shatter the lock, allowing them access inside. Here, she took out her flashlight and used it to light the aisles, aimed in such a way as to minimize how much showed through the windows. If the noise didn’t draw something, the light probably would. Nightshifts were no place

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[purpletaint]

Her words only admitted to her own harm, and Albedo considered. Her ability was certainly less potent than his, but of this place or had it been like that before. She had said that complete regeneration wasn't something heard of--for that, he could assume his ability was the one complete, and hers more a prototype. A more human allowance than his would entail without perimeters set upon it. It changed nothing, in the end. She was a devil, a monster like himself who understood, and now she held something more closely to him than any other.

Better to avoid harm? He knew nothing of it. And yet it was exactly what Nigredo wished him to do.

Albedo's gaze flicked to her as she came by him, looking up quietly through his bangs. That question was not something he could answer yes to. Not while he was still anywhere close to himself. Not while he still remained in memory of images flickering past his retinas, of mortality and the limits offered on it.

For a moment, he looked twelve, only and nothing else, and then Albedo closed his eyes. He blinked, and his expression normalized. "Not for long," he answered, then changed to complain. "Though longer than it should be." He frowned petulantly at his leg then glanced back up. "We were. Hopefully it helped a bit that you had some freedom of movement." He grinned, only lightly. "My apologies for not being more enticing to gather them all."

[she_is_ruin]

He was small. That was what she thought while Albedo looked up at her. He was small, like a boy his age generally might be. He wasn't as hard and invincible as he thought he was, either.

If they'd been alone, they might've lost a lot more time waiting to heal. Especially Albedo, if letting hungry spectres latch onto him was a common tactic.

"Was that what you were trying to do? Use yourself as bait?"

[purpletaint]

Despite him near admitting it, for some reason the questions seemed personal. The amusement dropped from his mien, head tipping lightly. It seemed the most intelligent route, after all. And how many times had he done so here? With the zombies and his siblings, with the brainwashed patient and Ritsuka, with the creature and his brother, and now here.

And to what avail? His regeneration had slowed enough that it was an issue and hardly helpful. He could gain attention, allow a clear shot or something else, but it more than not took him out of the fight, as it was. It was true he could hardly be injured, but as things were, he was certainly being slowed down to a point of near idiocy. It was annoying beyond all regard, and something else he wouldn't speak of.

He sighed, then, closing his eyes. The answer she wanted was obvious. He'd ask something else instead. "What would you have me do?"

[she_is_ruin]

His expressions were like the shadows, slipping and sliding into new shapes. For a moment, he didn't seem to know what do with her inquiry. Wondering at her motivations for asking what she did, when she did, and how she did.

"Me? Nothing. It turned out well for the odds involved," she said. He expected something, but Yomi wasn't about to give it to him. She just kept looking down at him with a carefree impassivity before she stepped past him to gather up her bag, laying her flashlight down on the top, within easy reach. Now if night ended, she had in her hand what she'd come for. If it returned to her cell with her was another question, one she'd have to wait and see about. "Do you have fun fighting like that? You must."

[purpletaint]

She gave him nothing, and he wondered, if but briefly. She had all but stated it during the day, after all. Reactions that others gave would not come from her. He shrugged somewhat, the action pulling attention to skin that was sealing over at his bicep. Should he wonder, then, why he was so exhausted? It was becoming more than ridiculous.

Her question reflected back on his own, and unlike her, he had no want of impassivity. The boy near-scowled up at her, eyes narrowed in distaste. "Not at all. I hate the limitations here. It makes things near useless that could be an asset otherwise."