Why does this place always have to spoil my fun? was the first thing HK thought when he realized he was back in his cell in the Institute. Oh well. This meant his nurse would be coming soon to lead him off to whatever boring place he was supposed to go to now
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Ironic, indeed. The Noah couldn't help but to laugh to himself, not caring if the guy on the other side of the room heard him or not. He shook his head before sliding out of bed, wincing when some of his wounds heavily objected to the movement. Rhode left him with quite the souvenir, alright.
Landel sure knew how to play his games. Tyki guessed tonight had been an interesting one, even though the sheer suckery of the events that had occured were still annoying. He hadn't even gotten to loot a singel store. Or even a smoke!
The nurse soon came in, offering him the choice between some places. The Noah decided he was content with lazying around this morning. After he made himself comfortable on one of the couches in the sun room, the woman left him alone while shaking her head.
[Free! No limits!]
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But the reward anyway was quite lovely.
Slipping out of bed, Grell found it hidden in his closet, cleaned of the blood from the previous night, neatly leaned up behind his clothes. It was a relief to see it there and know that he was no longer as useless as he previously felt. Knives were lovely, but a chainsaw? That was bliss.
Closing the doors, he pulled his hair back into a ponytail, slipped his real glasses into his waistband and then wore the rounded pair. The nurse came to gather him a moment later and then he trailed her until they reached the Sun Room. Apparently she thought it would be a bad idea to allow him into the Chapel. Talking with God for normal patients was one thing, but for someone who thought he was a god? Apparently not so.
Taking his time to pick his way across the room, he found a familiar face and eased over to the man's reposed form. It seemed he was doing well, other than the injuries. Clearing his throat, Grell tried to remember what character he used with this particular patient and recalled that he was merely himself around him. "Sleeping already? Is that part of the vagabond life?"
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"You got that right!" Tyki greeted with a grin, adjusting his own glasses. Which wasn't all that much of a lie, he guessed. At least, when he wasn't looking around for either foor or money, or cheating someone's pants off. "All I need now is a smoke and I'm set."
But the way it looked like, it would seem he would have to wait until evening. Jeez...
"I don't think I ever caught yer name."
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"A cigarette? I'm afraid I can't help you there, love - none up my sleeves today." Or ever. He wasn't one to smoke, but if it meant getting in with someone who could help him survive, he'd be more than happy to steal a few from someone less needy. Holding out his hand, palm down, Grell smiled wide for once. "Since we never finished our game, I'll give you a freebie. My name is Grell Sutcliff. And yours was... Tyki Mikk, was it not?"
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"Grell Sutcliff, eh? That's an interestin' name," For a person that seemed to be pretty interesting, he guessed it suited. The other man seemed to be the dramatic sort judging by the hand gestures. Huh. He briefly wondered how it'd turn out if Grell would ever meet his black side, but it was best that not too many people to know both, if he wished to keep them separate.
"Yeah, Tyki Mikk." he said with a nod. Even if he noticed Grell's teeth in the man's wide smile, he made no comment about it.
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Remembering that he had on his rounded glasses and his hair tied back, Grell shrugged and shooed Tyki over before taking a seat on the sofa arm. He stole a quick glance around the sun room and noted anyone worth noting and realizing no one in here would recognize him, he slipped the rounded specs off, slid his red ones on and loosened his hair. Wearing the hairband like a bracelet, Grell threaded his fingers through his hair and watched Tyki. There was something about him. If only he could put his finger on it. "So you survived the night did you, Mr. Mikk? How lucky you must be. No bites or bruises as the vagabond fought off his undead assailants?"
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"I survived, yeah. Not sure 'bout bein' lucky, though," Tyki said, titling his head. "I kinda ran into one o' the stronger ones, so I didn't exactly avoid any bites." Hell, he hadn't even gotten away to begin with. Last night wasn't exactly his best performance, and the recent wounds were proof of that.
Well, he guessed it couldn't be any different considering Rhode. 'One of the stronger ones' would be an understatement, really, especially with her powers somewhat active. Who would've thought it would happen? It was ironic, but in some twisted way, also quite rich.
He was surprised she hadn't gone after Allen, provided that he already hadn't gotten himself killed yet. That'd be a problem for his nicotine addiction if that was the case. It'd be such a waste, too. Tyki would've enjoyed killing the Exorcist himself, and it'd suck for some lame zombies to have done the job instead.
Not that he'd share any of those details. Instead, he changed the subject from himself to Grell. "So how 'bout you? How'd you fare against those smelly corpses?"
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One of the stronger ones? Possibly like the owner of the store? He'd seen the nasty aftermath of that particular fight and Grell had avoided it at all costs. Why fight more when he didn't need to? He and Luxord had vacated to the roof and spent a rather pleasant night pitching zombies off the roof. It had been fun - and he'd earned himself a weapon through it all. "Oh dear, that's a shame. Perhaps you should have that looked at? I heard they have one nasty...bite, after all."
And if people's rumors were true, the worst was still to come. That pesky 'taste for human brains' thing was just what Grell didn't want to deal with again. He wasn't human, but apparently the brainless hordes hadn't been able to tell the difference last night, which was rather bothersome.
When Tyki suddenly changed the topic to him, Grell shrugged a bit and laced his finger together over his knee. Why let the truth slip now? He may be acting more like himself now, but he still had an image to uphold - an image of the harmless butler who was just a bit touched in the head. "I hid mostly. Found my way to a safe location and waited the night out. Boring perhaps, but I'm still alive, unlike some people no longer here."
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"I guess that's a smart thing to do, yeah," Tyki nodded, though he probably never would've done something like that. He liked the risk in things. It'd be boring if things were always safe and sound, no?
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But enough with flirting, he had to be the bumbling butler at least a little bit, right? Sighing, he pulled his finger from his hair and dropped his chin into his hand. Best to slip back into his act if he didn't want to get caught red-handed. Blowing a strand of hair out of his face, Grell shrugged and said, "Smart, yes, because it's the only thing I can really do. It's either that or die, and I'd rather not die." Now time to get the focus off himself. "But for a vagabond, you were certainly an adventurous fellow. Not one to sit about even when the dead are walking, are you?"
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"Dun' worry. I'll be gentle when it happens." Even if that would be up to interpretation. Kinda.
"Not many got a death wish," Tyki said. Except for maybe the heroic types, but they were exceptionally fun people to play with. Though people that didn't want to die were also fun toys. "Can't blame ya, though. It'd suck to get eaten by a bunch o' moanin', smelly people."
At the next comment the Noah leaned back into the couch, his expression somewhat amused. "Adventurous, eh? Guess you could say that. I like havin' my fun." He brushed a hand through his messy, black hair. "Though I guess actin' like a typical vagabond and sleep on a bench in the middle of a zombie crowd ain't a smart thing to do."
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Smirking, Grell tapped a finger against his cheek as he watched Tyki out of the corner of his eye. "Be careful with what you promise to me, Mr. Mikk. I tend to collect."
As for people who had death wishes? There were certainly too few of those, but then they were usually the least fun to actually reap. The ones who begged and pleaded, who clung to life at all costs and promised reform or service or money in order to be given a second chance? Those were the fun ones. Grell couldn't help himself as his smile quirked up at the edges at the thought of such people here. How much would they beg and plead for another chance when the scythe was at their neck? "Oh yes, it certainly would be a bit of a downer."
Tyki leaned back against the sofa and Grell had to twist a bit to look at him from his perch on the arm. He liked having his fun, eh? Just what sort of fun? Tyki's offness bothered Grell like nothing else, but he just couldn't figure out what it was that separated him from the rest of the humans here. And like any good woman of his time, he couldn't leave well enough alone. "Your fun, is it? What sort would that be? Other than sleeping on benches in the middle of the great apocalypse?"
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"My fun, eh?" Interesting question, especially considering the one it had been directed at practically embodied pleasure. "Jeez, where to start? You could say that my fun's related to a lotta stuff. Simple pleasures 'n thrills alike, as long as it's enjoyable." And unfortunately, the vague answer was all that Grell was going to get. The Noah had little choice if he wished to keep both white and black.
"I s'pose sleepin' on benches during the great apocalypse is more productive than runnin' around in circles while flailing and praying for God to save ya," he said, raising his index finger. "It's at least more relaxin'." And why waste energy on something that wasn't going to happen, anyway? Humans were funny like that.
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Slipping off the sofa arm, Grell settled in next to Tyki, perhaps a little closer than necessary and leaned in toward him. "My, my, a regular pleasure-seeker, are we?" And a vague one at that. That hint of mystery was just what Grell needed in order to stay interested, and the death god smiled again, watching Tyki over the edge of his glasses. Who would have thought he could ever find such an interesting human again? Or at least one that could hold his attention for longer than it took to simply slay him.
"Oh, I wouldn't say that. God works in mysterious ways. Perhaps He is listening more than you think," Grell said nonchalantly, leaning away to examine his nails. "But I see what you mean. So if you weren't sleeping on benches or asking for God to save you, why exactly were you off playing with the big bads? A hu--mortal man should fear the dead, not go play with them."
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"You could say that," he said with a chuckle. He probably wouldn't have called himself 'regular', but a pleasure-seeker he certainly was. How could it be different, being Noah's Pleasure and all that?
Either way, Grell was asking a lot of questions. It'd be a real challenge to keep this up, but that hardly meant the Noah was going to give up. Besides, interesting correction he made there. Why would Grell correct 'human'?
His grin widened slightly.
"If I didn't know any better, I almost thought that one was seekin' me out or somethin'." he answered, which was actually true. Rhode had seemingly aimed just for him instead of all the other patients. That on itself was pretty interesting, he guessed.
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With his nails in good shape, he propped his chin in both hands, leaning on his knee as he watched Tyki from over his glasses. At this close distance, he could see the man clearly even without them, and he'd always thought he looked rather coy in this pose. "Perhaps that one just knew what you were all about, hm? Or perhaps you were just tastier than all the others out there."
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