(Untitled)

[meinxxherz]

Who: Herz, Keats and Oleg
When: Just before the end of the age event
where: by the railing on deck 5
Warning: vague violence

Comments

[diverged_fate]

A silent figure watched Herz from the shadows nearby. It had taken Keats a couple hours to find and track this man, but he could do it. Even in this alien environment. He was used to it, after all, and a hell of a lot more besides. Torturing people, killing them. Anything the Lordsmen wanted-- his Lordsmen in particular.

Not befriending them. Even getting casually close to any of them could mean their death or pain-- either by his own hands, or by those who owned them. Possibly both. Even if he couldn't feel the link... he still didn't believe his conversation with Herz earlier. It hit a false note... it hit a true one.

He'd rather believe that this man was a liar... than that his 'older self,' was foolish enough to let down his guard, and forget how dangerous he truly was. To push it aside like it didn't matter. To live trivially. If he'd made that mistake... well...

It would be just that. Decided, he slid out of the shadows and approached the railing slowly. Audible footfalls, though. He didn't want to surprise him--yet.

[meinwwherz]

The sound of footsteps reaches the older man and he stiffened, turning to look behind him in the next instant.

Seeing Keats is what made him relax.

The black eyes behind the reading glasses sweep over him, taking him in the best he could in what, to Herz, was very bright light. He certainly looked younger--shorter hair, shorter build.

Still...definitely his Keats.

Herz realized he hadn't said anything, only stared. "Hey."

Poetry, Hessian. God Damn Poetry.

[diverged_fate]

Keats took in all of that. The relaxing, the staring... the obvious recognition, at least. He couldn't add those up into something definitive. Obviously, this man 'knew,' him at least. Didn't consider him a threat.

Foolishly didn't consider him a threat.

"Like I said before, we need to talk." Another step closer. His face was blank of his thoughts, neutral as possible. His eyes cold, focused.

"There's more you're not telling me about... that conversation we had before."

[meinwwherz]

"Really?" Herz is a crappy liar at any age, but he'd hoped Keats wouldn't pick up on that. "I'm...sorry. What do you think I'm keeping from you?"