(no subject)
Who: Heine Rammsteiner, Duke.
When: Not long after Heine arrives, but probably after he's found Nill and made sure she's safe and whatnot.
Where: Near one of the terminals, out in the open.
Rating: TBD.
Warnings: TBD.
Summary: DUKE THINKS EVERTHING IS A DREAM. Heine wants to kill himself. :)
Heine was pretty sure that he was having ( quite possibly ) one of the worst days of his life.
Or at least he was pretty sure until he'd heard the approaching footsteps behind him, and then that "pretty sure" had shot straight up to an "extremely goddamn positive" as every muscle in his body tensed. He didn't move for a second, even, and gloved fingers scraped down over the side of the terminal as he sucked in a steady, somewhat calming breath.
And when those footsteps didn't stop, he just turned, heel digging into the dirt beneath him as he went. Turned until he was leaning back into the terminal, and until red eyes flicked up and over the streets of the city to focus on the figure approaching him as his hand dropped to his sides to rest casually against his Mauser. Turned, and muttered something that sounded a lot like "fuck me," and his expression was tight, and hard, and cold, and goddamn if this idiot didn't remind him of Badou.
Maybe going for a walk had been a retarded idea.
Right.
Go figure.
Part of him wanted to say something, or move, or walk the fuck away, or do something, but then there was that other part of him that was really quite tempted to wipe that stupid smirk off that guy's face, because. Who the fuck was he to think that all of this was a dream when Heine hadn't even been given that option, and why the shit did he get to be so fucking cheery in a shithole like this?
But that was just the kind of way that Heine was, and when Duke trailed closer, over the gravel and the rock, he pushed himself away from the terminal and lifted his hand to brush his fingers over the bandages on his throat as he muttered the same mantra beneath his breath:
Don't shoot the stupid bastard, Heine. For the love of God. Don't. Shoot. Him.
Yeah, well.
( He couldn't help it if his finger slipped, could he? )
When: Not long after Heine arrives, but probably after he's found Nill and made sure she's safe and whatnot.
Where: Near one of the terminals, out in the open.
Rating: TBD.
Warnings: TBD.
Summary: DUKE THINKS EVERTHING IS A DREAM. Heine wants to kill himself. :)
Heine was pretty sure that he was having ( quite possibly ) one of the worst days of his life.
Or at least he was pretty sure until he'd heard the approaching footsteps behind him, and then that "pretty sure" had shot straight up to an "extremely goddamn positive" as every muscle in his body tensed. He didn't move for a second, even, and gloved fingers scraped down over the side of the terminal as he sucked in a steady, somewhat calming breath.
And when those footsteps didn't stop, he just turned, heel digging into the dirt beneath him as he went. Turned until he was leaning back into the terminal, and until red eyes flicked up and over the streets of the city to focus on the figure approaching him as his hand dropped to his sides to rest casually against his Mauser. Turned, and muttered something that sounded a lot like "fuck me," and his expression was tight, and hard, and cold, and goddamn if this idiot didn't remind him of Badou.
Maybe going for a walk had been a retarded idea.
Right.
Go figure.
Part of him wanted to say something, or move, or walk the fuck away, or do something, but then there was that other part of him that was really quite tempted to wipe that stupid smirk off that guy's face, because. Who the fuck was he to think that all of this was a dream when Heine hadn't even been given that option, and why the shit did he get to be so fucking cheery in a shithole like this?
But that was just the kind of way that Heine was, and when Duke trailed closer, over the gravel and the rock, he pushed himself away from the terminal and lifted his hand to brush his fingers over the bandages on his throat as he muttered the same mantra beneath his breath:
Don't shoot the stupid bastard, Heine. For the love of God. Don't. Shoot. Him.
Yeah, well.
( He couldn't help it if his finger slipped, could he? )