Of manicures and floating chairs [CLOSED]

[dist_the_reaper]

WHO: Dist the Reaper and Schuldig
WHAT: Dist waits for Asch, but an unexpected guest arrives instead
WHERE: An old abandoned warehouse/factory where Dist has taken up residence
WHEN: The morning of the 3rd day in Rivelata

Comments

[dummschwallen]

If Schuldig had been possessed of half of his usual power--not this mere, piddling fraction piece of crap he had to work with--he'd have known this guy's life story faster than a heartbeat; he'd've had more to work with. Fortunately, a lifetime of knowing people so intimately had given him certain instincts: for example, sometimes you could just read a face and know what was going on behind it, read motives like a manual. How to manipulate this person to your advantage. Even if, right now, the instructions were written in that weird indecipherable English found on Chinese products, like laptop batteries, you could still piece together the basic information necessary to getting to the truth, if you were just that good. And Schuldig was a proud beast. He was that good.

What did Schuldig already know about God General Dist the Floral? He ticked off the items in his head, one by one:

1. Monster of ego.
2. Likewise, extremely delicate.
3. Obviously incapable of basic human interaction.
4. Loud.
5. Desperate.
6. Lonely.
7. Yeah, there was that monster of ego thing again.
8. Kinda talented when it came to building shit.
9. In need of some serious training--like, this was home-school levels of not cool.
10. Completely obsessed with that Colonel who had a thing for the Malkuth Emperor.

With those ten things, Schuldig could've had him between thumb and forefinger in a second, in faster than it would take this guy to start stammering a protest, but he was feeling charitable. Maybe it was the fact that he was alone and his coat was torn and he had a smudge of dirt on his left cheek, and there was something amusing about him, like maybe he could be more useful than first glance intimated. A diamond in the rough, sort of.

Whatever his real deal was, he was such a fucking kid. Couldn't leave kids alone in the nasty jungle. It was dangerous.

"And where's this Asch now, huh?" Schuldig asked, looking around. "I don't see him--do you? Looks like he's busy, or maybe he's forgotten about you." And the hidden statement behind that: but I didn't.

[dist_the_reaper]

Dist didn't want to answer that last part, because it could really be either or- and both responses stung in a very untimely fashion. He had never cared about Asch's presence before, in fact, they had bickered frequently as comrades over the years.

But now he found himself in a strange new world, surrounded by unforgiving strangers- and even more unforgiving were the people he knew. His magic was gone, as was the prestigious service he hid himself behind when he felt that twinge of insecurity. Asch was...well. Even Asch, the most antisocial, rough-around-the edges of them all, was busy, and had important things to do. More important than Dist, in any case.

Asch was his only comrade from the order who had managed to find his way here. The only person Dist had, in the part of his mind that still registered insecurity, felt he could maybe...sort of...count on. And well, apparently Asch had more important priorities.

Where did that leave Dist, then...?

The silver-haired man arranged his spectacles, and cleared his throat. "Well," he began. "You're...you're right. He isn't here." You are instead, Dist's thoughts prattled to him in the back of his mind. Though I wonder why.

"And frankly I don't know what he's doing. I'm starting to care less and less with every second I wait. He..." Dist felt his face rearrange into a very fierce grimace as he continued childishly. "If he keeps me waiting any longer he'll have to build his own damn boat."