[ The cigarettes.... well, they're not quite the right brand. Seishirou examines them for the longest time-- not the right brand at all, and not, certainly, one of his own purchases. Then again, he hadn't really had the time for that purchase just yet. It left one thing.
Not that it was a surprise. He smiled a bit-- the initial meeting had given so many clues away, and really, his new acquaintance could afford more discretion. More discretion, though, to tear down, pull back, and destroy. Which begged the question; Why is it those discretions were needed in the first place?
[ Oh. Oh, well. That's more stealth than he anticipated, but all the same, intriguing. Still smiling, that ever-present smile, the one Subaru had seemed to hate-- and holding up one of the cartons demonstratively. ]
Afraid?
[ Of course, he looked again, setting the carton down-- it was great material with which to mock the owner. ]
But you shouldn't be afraid of death.
[ And yes, simply because of the temptation-- simply because of the specific requirements-- click. And the smoke puffed up from that lighter, and he exhaled. ]
[ The smile flattens, evens out into something that's almost but not quite a frown. ]
I don't choose it.
[ Seishirou is going to find out about his power and his price eventually. There's no point in hiding it. All the same, he can make a game out of the discovery. ]
There's a balcony off my bedroom. You can use it whenever I'm not sleeping.
[ Well, he was expecting the reaction. Waiting for it, even-- and what an amusing reaction coming from the one owning those black-labelled cigarettes. There was still something missing to the tale, it seemed, but those protective barriers could be ripped down at his leisure.
The smoke wafted, settled, around him-- no, he wouldn't get too close-- and a wisp of it moved threateningly to Mr Questionnaire. There wasn't sense in wasting the cigarette, he couldn't use any powers deliberately yet. Another surprise for another day, perhaps. ]
I wouldn't wish to bother Mr November.
[ No witnesses, either. But he was curious-- how much could he get away with? ]
[ One eye still remained on this new acquaintance-- kindred spirit, indeed, and he wondered if there was more to it than that-- and vaguely, he wondered if the one eye was sufficient enough to provoke question. There was a reason for the glasses once. Once. Although, none had been raised yet.
He took another drag. His own were running low-- he had been blessed with small mercies, left with what he had had before that day, down to the blood-stained clothing ripped asunder at the chest and the nearly-full pack. Small mercies. But the shirt had been saved for another day, another person-- a fresh one had been needed. He wasn't the suspicious one-- his host was.
So he approached-- measured steps, still keeping a distance, even though now he was directly in front of the other. And that smoke was exhaled to the side, and he smiled again. But there was no faltering, anyway. ]
Re: action;icingkillsSeptember 2 2010, 04:37:31 UTC
[ November wouldn't question the one eye. By all rights he should have arrived here in a bloodstained suit; it was only the graciousness of the City that had sent him here unstained.
It wasn't his business.
As for the question-- ]
I haven't killed here yet.
[ A beat. ]
Except for that spider. And it came back. What a thankless chore.
[ He chuckled a bit-- that spider, he remembered reading, hearing about it, sifting for more information whenever possible. To kill a spider... well, there had to have been purpose behind it. This man-- and so he could tell-- didn't kill without reason. Rationality, after all. ]
You simply spoke too soon.
[ One more step-- the smoke was enough now that it not only curled around him, but it was beginning to encircle his companion. To the other's chagrin, he presumed, which made it all the more entertaining. ]
[ Indeed, November didn't look pleased--irritation flickered as a shadow across those blue eyes, then vanished. He had to maintain the act. ]
No. Why waste the effort on something that won't stay dead? Although--
Its new form seems to frequent the gardens. I enjoy them, myself.
[ Because of the waterfalls. He felt safe there--for him, "safe" was defined as "knowing he could kill anyone who approaches with a twitch of one hand." ]
[ His smile took on a gentler quality-- something that won't stay dead. A worthless pastime, indeed, and yet he could see the benefits. Seishirou saw that panther-- the former spider, so his information network had informed him-- the style was too classless. But there still was a certain fascination. Especially since it took to the gardens-- around that tree.
His tree.
And he enjoyed the gardens, too. The tree-- maybe this man saw that tree, that kept its bloom even in the late summer. Maybe he hadn't even thought about it. Maybe, though, it was why he had asked for the symbolism in his name. ]
[ He chuckled again. The reply was expected; this one wasn't so keep to give away any emotion, in the first place-- at least not by force. With those curses-- with everything that came with this city-- he would be forced, perhaps into showing it. But that was why, now, Seishirou was standing there, an unwanted intrusion, perhaps, but a necessary evil now. And one so dangerously close and discrete. ]
No. You're threatened by other things. Larger things.
[ This place forced compromise, forced choosing among options that were all unfavorable. It was, in a way, a good thing November had recent experience with the latter. When one had already chosen to die to preserve one's will and pride and rationality, compromising privacy a little to preserve the same was nothing.
Or almost nothing. Skip back from the seriousness: ]
Do you think I'm threatened by having to take care of things? Like that charming little fern.
[ This time, he felt the necessity to step back, though, really, the fern wasn't in the right place, it was facing west, and really, it would have been better in a different direction. He picked that plant up, almost seeming to examine it carefully, as one would a prospective pet.
Oh, but he knew that his attack had been side-stepped, and not necessarily in the most elegant manner, but it would do. He could pursue that later-- at his leisure. One little concession wouldn't hurt here or there. ]
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Not that it was a surprise. He smiled a bit-- the initial meeting had given so many clues away, and really, his new acquaintance could afford more discretion. More discretion, though, to tear down, pull back, and destroy. Which begged the question; Why is it those discretions were needed in the first place?
But, one down. ]
A house-warming gift...?
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Mine, I'm afraid.
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Afraid?
[ Of course, he looked again, setting the carton down-- it was great material with which to mock the owner. ]
But you shouldn't be afraid of death.
[ And yes, simply because of the temptation-- simply because of the specific requirements-- click. And the smoke puffed up from that lighter, and he exhaled. ]
Should you?
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I don't choose it.
[ Seishirou is going to find out about his power and his price eventually. There's no point in hiding it. All the same, he can make a game out of the discovery. ]
There's a balcony off my bedroom. You can use it whenever I'm not sleeping.
[ Pointedly. ]
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The smoke wafted, settled, around him-- no, he wouldn't get too close-- and a wisp of it moved threateningly to Mr Questionnaire. There wasn't sense in wasting the cigarette, he couldn't use any powers deliberately yet. Another surprise for another day, perhaps. ]
I wouldn't wish to bother Mr November.
[ No witnesses, either. But he was curious-- how much could he get away with? ]
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Then the balcony's yours to use.
[ But the fan hadn't entirely cleared the smell of yesterday's cigarette smoke from the air, so it was terribly hypocritical of him to ask.
He could simply tell Seishirou. Explain what it meant to be a contractor, what it meant to use an ability with a price.
But that would take the fun away, wouldn't it? He smiled again. ]
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He took another drag. His own were running low-- he had been blessed with small mercies, left with what he had had before that day, down to the blood-stained clothing ripped asunder at the chest and the nearly-full pack. Small mercies. But the shirt had been saved for another day, another person-- a fresh one had been needed. He wasn't the suspicious one-- his host was.
So he approached-- measured steps, still keeping a distance, even though now he was directly in front of the other. And that smoke was exhaled to the side, and he smiled again. But there was no faltering, anyway. ]
And you've hidden your dead bodies?
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It wasn't his business.
As for the question-- ]
I haven't killed here yet.
[ A beat. ]
Except for that spider. And it came back. What a thankless chore.
[ He tips his head to the side. ]
Should I correct that?
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You simply spoke too soon.
[ One more step-- the smoke was enough now that it not only curled around him, but it was beginning to encircle his companion. To the other's chagrin, he presumed, which made it all the more entertaining. ]
But you wouldn't kill it again, would you?
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No. Why waste the effort on something that won't stay dead? Although--
Its new form seems to frequent the gardens. I enjoy them, myself.
[ Because of the waterfalls. He felt safe there--for him, "safe" was defined as "knowing he could kill anyone who approaches with a twitch of one hand." ]
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His tree.
And he enjoyed the gardens, too. The tree-- maybe this man saw that tree, that kept its bloom even in the late summer. Maybe he hadn't even thought about it. Maybe, though, it was why he had asked for the symbolism in his name. ]
Do you feel threatened?
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[ Serene. Still smiling. ]
A panther is still flesh and blood, isn't it? I could kill it if I wanted to.
[ He said--unaware of its newfound resistance to cold and ice. He would be helpless against it. ]
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No. You're threatened by other things. Larger things.
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Or almost nothing. Skip back from the seriousness: ]
Do you think I'm threatened by having to take care of things? Like that charming little fern.
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Oh, but he knew that his attack had been side-stepped, and not necessarily in the most elegant manner, but it would do. He could pursue that later-- at his leisure. One little concession wouldn't hurt here or there. ]
It needs a little water.
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