Company Calls
Some days it almost amazed her at how childlike her girls could be. Always energetic, always finding things to show her...that was the off-duty Ninjas. Today it seemed they had a special treat in store for her since they could barely slow down their movements, flitting through the ropes and wires of their 'home' the moment she stepped from the dark paths.
The source of their energy seemed to be a dangling cocoon among the highest ropes. A cocoon that wiggled and cursed despite it's bound and suspended state. An Intruder
Oh, a special treat indeed!
He was a 'punk' or young man who believed he was dangerous in the world he lived in. A man who thought that the previous tenant owed him something. His life story was of no interest to her, but she heard it anyway. A piecemeal telling of any sin the boy could think to repent of, and and the hesitant offerings of the occasional, selfish good deed. And when the boy was finally tired of speaking, too drawn out and weakened to babble any more...then she spoke.
"I'm curious..." those words sent a whimper through the air as Larxene peeled her glove off, blood making the supple leather cling like a live thing "...about reality. Have you ever considered it? What it takes to be real in a world you can't control?" a rhetorical question really. He was never meant to answer, even if he could.
"Probably not. Somebodies, it seems, are just as selfish as Nobodies must be. They define their reality, and no outside force can truly shake their own perceptions..." she mused "...you have realities that conflict with those of other Somebodies, beliefs even facts and truths cannot remove from you...You are right. Every one of You. I used to think that such belief alone was what made you real. I've since learned the error of my ways. There's as much physical as metaphysical involved. No simple, clean answer..." Larxene sighed as she eyed her knives, then dismissed. They were...no longer necessary.
"Reality can make you very useful, at least my superiors seem to believe so. Many of them seem to require those who are real to remember..." it had been a long time since she'd removed her gloves in front of anyone but her girls. The appearance of her hands almost always distracted her...but not this time. She reached out to lay a deceptively gentle hand along her Intruder's cheek.
It was a nice cheek, she supposed. Strong, angular might be the term. Warm. Solid.
...and simply a Somebody's cheek.
It was disappointingly the same for his shoulder, his chest, his back...
He started screaming again when she stepped away to eye her bloodied fingers. Perhaps it was her face, empty emotionless where she had maintained an almost polite cheerfulness before. It could be frightening, emptiness. "It seems I don't Need you." she admitted with a shrug. "Pity"
It was not surprising, really. She didn't seem to require much of what her Superiors did, no matter that it might have been...nice...to know she did.
"No...not needed. But, it would be a shame not to keep my hand in!"
The source of their energy seemed to be a dangling cocoon among the highest ropes. A cocoon that wiggled and cursed despite it's bound and suspended state. An Intruder
Oh, a special treat indeed!
He was a 'punk' or young man who believed he was dangerous in the world he lived in. A man who thought that the previous tenant owed him something. His life story was of no interest to her, but she heard it anyway. A piecemeal telling of any sin the boy could think to repent of, and and the hesitant offerings of the occasional, selfish good deed. And when the boy was finally tired of speaking, too drawn out and weakened to babble any more...then she spoke.
"I'm curious..." those words sent a whimper through the air as Larxene peeled her glove off, blood making the supple leather cling like a live thing "...about reality. Have you ever considered it? What it takes to be real in a world you can't control?" a rhetorical question really. He was never meant to answer, even if he could.
"Probably not. Somebodies, it seems, are just as selfish as Nobodies must be. They define their reality, and no outside force can truly shake their own perceptions..." she mused "...you have realities that conflict with those of other Somebodies, beliefs even facts and truths cannot remove from you...You are right. Every one of You. I used to think that such belief alone was what made you real. I've since learned the error of my ways. There's as much physical as metaphysical involved. No simple, clean answer..." Larxene sighed as she eyed her knives, then dismissed. They were...no longer necessary.
"Reality can make you very useful, at least my superiors seem to believe so. Many of them seem to require those who are real to remember..." it had been a long time since she'd removed her gloves in front of anyone but her girls. The appearance of her hands almost always distracted her...but not this time. She reached out to lay a deceptively gentle hand along her Intruder's cheek.
It was a nice cheek, she supposed. Strong, angular might be the term. Warm. Solid.
...and simply a Somebody's cheek.
It was disappointingly the same for his shoulder, his chest, his back...
He started screaming again when she stepped away to eye her bloodied fingers. Perhaps it was her face, empty emotionless where she had maintained an almost polite cheerfulness before. It could be frightening, emptiness. "It seems I don't Need you." she admitted with a shrug. "Pity"
It was not surprising, really. She didn't seem to require much of what her Superiors did, no matter that it might have been...nice...to know she did.
"No...not needed. But, it would be a shame not to keep my hand in!"