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[theother1412]

With the plain white t-shirt and trousers, you might think this is an ordinary Kaito, if a little monochrome. There's a newsboy cap tugged low over his right eye, and a stripy scarf wrapped securely around his neck (which he keeps tugging at, for some reason). Nice and normal... right?

....right?

[ooc: Come and prod the shock-collared assassin~!]

Comments

[isacrazyeight]

[It's the kind of thing Eight can only attribute to having been around and seen as many alternate versions of himself as he has- he knows 1412, even when 1412 isn't in uniform. After all, once you get to know so many people who look exactly the same to everyone else, it becomes a strong case of knowing how to tell twins apart.

To Eight, 1412 is about as unsubtly different from any other Kaito in the manner as, well, he is. It certainly doesn't help that this is clearly a case of the immortal being transported at exactly the wrong time. His hands are wreathed in flames, blue eyes narrowed, expression far more vicious than many other versions of Kaito could achieve without faking it. Seeing 1412 doesn't exactly negate the clearly agitated state Eight is in, but it does change it. His expression shifts to wary suspicion, the fire covering his hands fading. No need to be so obvious with that trick.]

One-four-one-two.

[theother1412]

There's a startled twitch and a jerk; people don't recognise him this easily, not when he's hiding, not even Hakuba-kun is that good (he is, he will be, 1412 remembers but doesn't, because he never remembers anything important). Eight has managed to startle him for the first time in a long while.

"...Nine."

His tone is hushed, uncertain, his hand automatically grasping for the knife at his waist. He's indecisive. He should hurt him for hurting him but-- 1412 shudders, forcing his mind away from the thought of causing Eight pain. (He can be taught, it seems.)

[isacrazyeight]

"Eight, actually. If I can do you the favor of getting your name of choice right, you can return that favor." Eight noticed those twitches; it's sort of his job, especially since he started taking up teaching people how to defend themselves. One of his eyebrows went up in a silent challenge at that gesture, even as he leaned against the wall nearest to him, practically a picture of laziness.

"You think I'm going to attack you unprovoked? Tut-tut, I'd be a bit more the monster my students paint me if I did." His voice was light, but chastising all the same. After all, it wouldn't do for him to gain the image of the heartless tyrant. He could be that if he so chose, if he so needed... but now was hardly the time for that. If 1412 didn't make the first move, Eight was willing to stay still, to wait for something to react to.

[theother1412]

1412 was still twitchy; his body language shrinking away from Eight. Even at his best, he'd still been beaten by him; now, even though he ached for revenge, he knew, knew, knew that he'd never beat him when he couldn't hurt or maim or kill anything.

Oh this was just hysterical. 1412 giggled brokenly, holding the knife in his hand wit white-knuckled fingers, taking a step backwards. His other hand clutched convulsively at the scarf around his neck, shaking his head, still laughing.

"Nine and Nine but Eight Nine, so no, I can't. Numbers, all numbers."

[isacrazyeight]

Something wasn't right here, not with the way 1412 was acting. The immortal's faint smile faded into something more serious as he watched the assassin, thumbs hooked through his belt loops. He yawned, looking at the knife and raising that eyebrow a bit further. "Time was you wouldn't be holding that knife like that. You'd be trying to get it in me," Eight pointed out. He walked over from his wall, slow and non-threatening, eyebrows knit together.

Maybe it was Saguru rubbing off on him, but he was fairly sure he didn't have the full picture. And there was something about the way he was keeping one hand on the scarf. "What's under the scarf, 1412?"

[theother1412]

"Nothing! Nothingnothingnothing being good, being very very... good."

"Not bad, no, we're not bad at all. EightNine doesn't need to see anything or talk to us because we haven't been hurting anybody we're fine."

"Just. Fine."

[isacrazyeight]

"You're doing a very bad job of reassuring me, you know that?" Eight's voice was pitched soft- something was very wrong here, and it seemed very like 1412 was going to panic. Which really, was a bad sign. He'd never seen 1412 really panic...

Eight stepped over, well within knife range, and reached out to tug at the scarf.

[theother1412]

1412 let out a small whine, dropping the knife in favour of grabbing Eight's wrist with both hands, pushing his hand away from the scarf. He didn't-- no, he didn't want. Didn't, didn't want. He kept pushing, though made no move to actually hurt Eight to get him away.