Aug 16, 2011 01:37
Anise woke up feeling lucky to be alive. She still felt a bit waterlogged, even though her skin, hair, and clothes were completely dry. During last night's adventures, she'd swallowed a lot of water, and it still felt heavy and disgusting in her stomach. Her arms and legs were tired from treading water. Lying still in her bed, she still kind of
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zero,
klavier,
japan,
tsubaki,
badd,
badou,
anise,
lily,
terra branford,
the doctor,
england,
sam winchester,
firo,
utena,
doctor facilier,
niikura,
claire bennet,
peter parker,
tolten,
snow,
lunge,
brainiac 5,
albedo,
peter petrelli,
tear,
rose (tvd),
damon,
ritsuka,
two-face,
erika,
edgar,
hijikata,
maya,
battler,
zack,
kratos,
l,
america,
sechs,
carter,
jessica drew,
bella,
izaya,
sora,
gren,
claude,
renamon,
guybrush,
byrne,
leanne,
guy,
venom,
rita,
lightning,
castiel,
chise,
trickster,
mikado,
yomi,
riku,
ippo,
meekins,
daemon,
aidou,
edward cullen,
claire stanfield
Claire was still rambling on, though, and finally started to explain himself, at least in part: his things had been taken from him only to reappear in the box they received in their rooms each evening, so apparently what he was fretting over was whether they'd read a list about how he wanted to kill Landel or Aguilar or whoever else if he wrote it in his journal? Firo felt pretty sure that was what he was getting at.
"...You've got a gun?" he found himself asking instead of commenting on the rest of it; it sounded like Claire had already made his decision about it anyway. But the gun... from the sound of it, it wasn't something he'd just found lying around one night.
Or maybe it was. It was hard to be sure sometimes, when it came to Claire.
Compared to having gotten a weapon already, Firo's own progress was kind of pathetic. "Not really," he answered. "Most I've gotten done was trying to help some kid who'd gotten take in for... I guess they're experiments. If you're looking for people to question, I think the soldiers are the ones who know the most about things around here."
At that, he shot a pointed look at the nearest guard.
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"Huh? Oh yes, yesterday night, I had a gun in my box of possessions. Not sure how or why I got it, but it's a pretty clear message, don't you think? Here, have this gun, bump someone off with it, right? Only two bullets included with it, but I can make do with what I have. I borrowed a railing from a restroom last night as well, so I'd also have that to improvise with. Provided they do give it back."
He hoped they did. Claire would be kind of annoyed if they didn't. Certainly, obtaining the makeshift weapon hadn't been too difficult in the long run, but if he were forced to waste time every night on finding a new weapon before going hunting, it would be unnecessarily tedious, right? He'd rather not.
"Experiments, really? This institute really is going for the creepy hospital type place, isn't it? That's not okay, though," Claire answered, in reply to Firo's progress. Not as much information that he'd expected, but then again, Firo hadn't been here as long as Claire had (not that it counted for much). But experiments were something he hadn't heard of before. That was something, at least.
"Ah, right! That's what I was thinking! I've been spending my nights looking for someone to question. Before, I was thinking maybe one of the nurses or orderlies, even that Martin Landel, but now, probably a soldier would be more like it. I took your advice on the bulletin board, by the way!"
Claire managed to catch the look Firo sent to the guard and followed his gaze. If only he could just ask in broad daylight...
"You know, I also thought about just asking that soldier that accompanies me everywhere I go, but they're mostly silent, aren't they?"
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He might have commented further on the young man who'd been experimented on, but then Claire went on to say that he'd taken his advice on the bulletin, which threw Firo for a loop. He couldn't remember having given any advice, per se, though he'd thought about warning Claire against being so open about his job where everyone could see it. Even if they weren't in the '30s any longer, Vino was still a wanted man.
...Well, if Claire thought he'd given some advice, that was fine. If he'd taken it, even better. Firo sighed, picking up his spoon and swirling it around the pink slop.
"Mostly silent, yeah," he agreed. "I think I've only ever gotten three words at a time out of mine. He keeps insisting on calling me 'Saviano', too, no matter how much I insist that it's 'Prochainezo'."
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"Oh, you too?" Claire said. "Same with mine, actually! Well, that is, when he decides to actually say something, rather than glare or nod or grunt. I'm starting to think maybe he doesn't really like me. I'm pretty sure I never did anything to him!"
Well, even if Claire rarely remembered exactly whom he'd attacked before, he was fairly certain he hadn't done anything to this guard of his. ... Pretty certain, yes.
"Anyway," he continued. "Mine, and the nurse I had before him, insists on calling me 'Walken,' which isn't right at all! They're confusing me for the wrong assassin! Granted, Mr. Felix Walken is excellent at his job , but maybe I should be offended that they only think me second-best in the world."
Let's see... was there anything else he wanted to talk to Firo about? ... He couldn't remember now. His head was filled with ideas about how he could perhaps interrogate his soldier. But hey, he could always ask Firo later, couldn't he?
"Where are you staying, by the way? Then I could visit you if I ever need to!"
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-But before that, his room? "I was just moved to M44," he answered, a confused look lingering on his face over the matter of 'Felix Walken'. "Tell me yours, too. I might need to know it some time." Especially if that torture thing from last night was a regular occurrence, checking up on Claire from time to time might not be a bad idea. Claire could handle himself, but it did say a lot that their captors had gotten him here in the first place.
"About 'Felix Walken'... If they're calling you that, shouldn't you be happy?" It meant that at least someone was calling him by that name.
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Excellent! Now he had someone he could talk to if his roommate turned out to be the silent type! If he got all his possessions back, perhaps he should mark out Firo's room on the map he'd taken from the bulletin board.
Claire didn't think he had any other questions after this last one. It was also probably nearing time for breakfast to end, right? Not that he was watching the time, but he had been taking a long time trying to decide whether or not he wanted to eat his gruel. Which, he suddenly decided, was a solid, resounding no. Even if he'd skipped dinner last night.
...Oh, Firo was saying something. "Hm?"
And then Claire had to pause for a moment and try to understand. Because...
"... Happy that I'm being called by someone else's name?" Claire asked, not sure what Firo was getting at. He blinked. Why would he be happy?
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"Happy that you're being called-" he started, cutting off suddenly. Ah... Was it possible that Claire actually didn't know? Given the whole 'time travel' thing Scott had talked about, even if it had been 1934 when he'd been on his way to prison, there was a chance it might have been a different year entirely for Claire. If so, it could have been before he'd started going by 'Felix Walken'. It had to have been, if he was saying it was someone else's name.
"...Forget it."
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He waited for Firo to explain, then stared when he cut himself off and told him to forget about it. What? But Claire was curious! What was this all about? He would think that Firo understood how important Claire's names were to him, since they'd known each other for so long. So what was this?
"No wait, what did you mean by all that?" he asked. "Just tell me!"
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He looked down at his bowl of gruel as he thought it over. Claire had already asked him to explain, so he wasn't going to get out of it easily, was he? It would be a lot less trouble just to tell him.
Firo sighed, and then looked at Claire once more.
"It's just... You've been using the name 'Felix Walken' for a couple of years now."
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Finally, Firo looked back up. Oh, so he was going to tell him anyway?
... But what he said wasn't quite expected.
"... But I haven't been."
And Claire was certain of this. He'd been going by 'Claire Stanfield' as his birthname, then 'Vino' as his undercover alias, a few other names he might have conjured up for a few jobs or another and then discarded, and most recently 'Rail Tracer.' But when had he taken up 'Felix Walken'? Pretty sure he hadn't, in fact. He remembered in encounter with that famed assassin himself in the field, but nothing else that would make him take up the name and ask to be referred to by it.
Firo had said a couple years? How could that be possible?
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"But you will," he said. Maybe if he explained the reason he'd had taken up the name? He'd been told it before, and it really was so like Claire that maybe it would be enough to make him understand. And come to think of it, hadn't Claire had mentioned the Flying Pussyfoot when Firo had first arrived? "You explained it before by saying something like 'Claire's dead, so I needed a new name in order to get married'..."
His right hand tightened around his spoon, though he'd long since stopped mixing the gruel. "If you haven't decided that already, then you must not have bought the name yet. But for me, it's already 1934."
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This was... confusing. Very confusing. And difficult to wrap his mind around, because everything sounded just weird. Too weird? Well... probably not. It was... what was a good word for it? 'Interesting'? Well no, not quite... How about 'strange'? 'Impossibly strange'? No, no, for all Claire knew, nothing was impossible, at least not for him. But still! This definitely counted as 'impossibly strange, even for him' right? Right?!
... Wait, did this mean--?!?!!?
It had been a few moments since he'd spoken, during which Claire had probably spent his time making thinking faces. (A rarity, those.) Suddenly, he looked rather shocked. One might think it was a late reaction to what he'd just been told, but it was to something else entirely.
"Firo, how old are you?" Claire demanded, staring intently. If Firo was supposed to be from 1934, that meant he was ahead of him in years. Which was completely unfair! You couldn't just do that! How had that happened?! Time machine? Had Firo discovered a time machine?! If he had, he should tell him these things sooner.
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But of all the questions Firo might have expected Claire to ask about his story, his age wasn't one of them. It took him by surprise, and that surprise was written plainly on his face.
"I'm 22, of course," he said carefully, the surprise giving way to a more guarded expression. If this was leading to a jab at his looks...
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