2 • [action]

[endthem]

[Legato hadn't exactly been hiding since his arrival. He'd been...waiting.

Waiting for this delusional dream to end, waiting for someone to try and remove him from the apartment he'd claimed as 'his', waiting for something--anything--to make sense. ...Waiting for instruction, perhaps.

When he finally realizes that waiting is turning out to be

Comments

[not_a_bluesbro]

[Wolfwood had been coming back from a simple drink at the bar, and casually walked the path with crucifix bobbing characteristically in the dimness of the evening. The lights of the village lit the world enough to see, but he did not yet notice the presence of Legato; too busy pulling a lighter from his back pocket and starting up yet another cigarette.

Old habits, y'know?]

[endthem]

[a familiar presence. This is something he hadn't expected, he immediately doubts his already faulty-feeling ability, glancing up quickly to confirm it with his eyes.

...well. What an interesting turn of events.

pushing himself to his feet, hands in pockets, Legato slips through the shadows along the sides of the building and heads off in the direction of his old friend.]

[not_a_bluesbro]

[Wolfwood can already feel something wasn't normal. He's from a world where you simply cannot chalk it up to imagination or paranoia. He's learned over time-something like this, he doesn't just magically feel, even after a drink or two.

He stops where the forest meets the main section of the village, one hand in his pocket, the other pulling at the crucifix propped against his shoulder... looks over it as he narrows his eyes.]

Who is it?

[He feels it in his gut, but... could it be he was just losing his edge? No, he couldn't doubt that feeling. And even if it was just in his mind, he knew Legato was around, knew Luceti housed other dangers.

If he was wrong, no egg on his face.

And... if he was right...]

[endthem]

[there is just a touch of a smile on his face when he feels Wolfwood detect him, several moments before he even says a word. A shift in his stance, hesitation in his motions... all satisfying. It seems the priest hasn't lost his edge, in death.

Finding Wolfwood here, with a poetic set of wings perched on his back. It was almost too much.]

[just a touch of dark amusement slithering in, from his place off in the shadows] ...And they tried to tell me that this wasn't an afterlife.

[not_a_bluesbro]

[Turned away from the voice, he closes his eyes, breathing, a clear aura of 'oh great' in everything he motions. He slowly turns toward the shadows as Legato walks in, and his stomach twists. Just enough.]

Legato.

[His gray-blue eyes study the man's face. Still strangely blank, even with that small smile trying to creep in. His fingers encircled the wrap on the cross quietly, faintly.

But nothing yet. He may not have to.]

So you kicked the bucket, too, then. What a surprise, considering how well you puppet everyone around you.

[endthem]

I succeeded; I fulfilled my duty. Nothing more was needed of me.

[said so flippantly, despite the slight rise in unrest at the thought of trying to reconcile this with the reality of Luceti.

And then a soft musing sound]

It's good to see you again, Wolfwood. ...I feel as though we ended things on a poor note.

[not_a_bluesbro]

[His eyes widen, but the distaste lingered in his gaze. While he pondered what ended his 'duty', he was more-so curious as to the very last line. Something had twisted in his gut. Why?]

...'On a poor note'?

[He wrestled the impulse growl it out, instead trying to keep composed. Legato fed on the opposite. Did he sense that? Probably. The creepy bastard was good at his supernatural trade.]

[endthem]

Yes. It was a shame things had to go the way that they did. It was all for good reason, though... I'm sure you can understand.

[then a pause, considering the hesitation, the uncertainty in Wolfwood. Something that he is holding back, and that Legato can nearly taste regardless]

[almost pityingly, then] ...Oh. Unless you haven't figured it out.

[not_a_bluesbro]

Figured out what.

[...Oh, goddamn it, please don't tell him this feeling is justified. Chapel had fought him, killed him in the process.

But...]

You-

[His eyes glimmer dangerously, and he snorts a sound of disbelief, grip on his cross tightening.]

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

[endthem]

[the contrived sympathy on his face grows, then]

I really hadn't intended for things to go that way in the beginning. I was forced to adapt to the situation.

If it helps you, Chapel was unhappy about it as well, and followed you shortly after.

[not_a_bluesbro]

...You son-of-a-bitch...

[He fumed it, clenching his teeth. He wanted to shoot him right between the eyes, kill him once and wait for him to return so he can do it again. But was he even capable? Right now, with all his focus on him and only him? No, his powers were strong. Still, there was that 'power cap'...

But one person is still such a simple number.]

And then you got to join us. So happy you could make it. It's such a goddamn shame your master didn't get to join us, too, huh? Bet you've been a confused mess since you got here.

[Bitterness, what bitterness? That stuff seeping out of his voice? Couldn't be.]

[endthem]

[he watches as Wolfwood's anger dances right along, pleased... until the preacher catches it. ...And then brings up Knives.
Very little changes about his expression, but it is unmistakable that there is indeed an effect. The mock sorrow slips from his features, leaving nothing. Absolutely, alarmingly, nothing]

[when he speaks, there is a hollow lightness, something very broken about it. Legato is not quite right.]

...And you should pray hard that he doesn't, preacher. It is the only thing keeping me from wiping away this absurd pocket of humanity.

I consider my standing orders to be unfinished.

[not_a_bluesbro]

[Wolfwood scoffs.]

You're a replaceable human to him. In fact, he's probably found some other insane idiot to manipulate... You'd better pray you have any purpose left at all.

[He would have loved an urge to grin, to find any of it funny. But he just can't find the feeling. So this was the man that killed him. This guy.

He was dead because of him.

Understandably, he hisses his words.]

Vash went missing a while ago. Did you do something, Legato?

[If I could just shoot him and be done with it...]

[endthem]

[for a moment, there is nothing. A hanging pause as several fractured things pass through Legato's mind, sharp fragments where there should be a smooth plane. Having no use, where is Knives, where is Vash if Wolfwood doesn't know, why--]

[Wolfwood can't grin but Legato manages to smile again, though it doesn't reach his voice now. It remains just as empty]

You've already lost him. You aren't very good at your job, are you?

[not_a_bluesbro]

My job ended a long time ago.

[He's sharp and stern. It was true, he wasn't Vash's 'protector' anymore. Wasn't there to guide him to any set destination. He hadn't been searching the journal for a sign of the idiot because of some half-assed job he'd done only for the sake of the orphanage...

It was like Zazie. He did it because he wanted to, not because he had to.]

So. You didn't do anything. I'm shocked you didn't know he'd went missing-too busy troubling yourself over your sense of worth?

[The emptiness to his voice: Wolfwood hears it, but he just can't bring himself to talk a little more cautiously. He can't.]

[endthem]

Of course I knew he went missing.

But, I can be patient.

[wrong. He's itching, gnawing, aching to have him back; he needs to be within range again. The bones of his left arm aren't crawling and humming as they should be. It's worrying--terrifying--but, there is no reason for Vash to be truly gone. The insurance girl, and now Wolfwood...he wouldn't leave them. He has to believe that...]