because I'm a watcher!
Who: Giovanni and Shijima
When: Tuesday night Darkness hours
Where: the streets of Siren's Port!
Summary: Gin a body that can't die meet a body that can't die, comin' through the rye....
Warnings: They're both going to die. And then recover. 8))))
It was the darkness that was the most familiar. Giovanni didn't crave familiarity, not as others did. The reconstruction of old lives, old routines--pulling on old occupations as if they were coats, walking the streets of this city as if it were their own--he loved that about these people. He loved to watch them at it, their slow toddling movements, their fumbling uncertainties, their attempts at normalcy: at recreating what they knew and came from and cared for. Like putting together a skeleton with half of the bones false, and made of tin.
What Giovanni was familiar with would not be found here: at least, not yet. He was waiting, as he always was; waiting without looking. No, he was always looking, he corrected himself, though he didn't have to. He would know when Heine Rammsteiner came to this city: he would know.
So, most familiar: the darkness. Not quite the gray of the upper world, not quite his mother's darkness below, but a close approximation. Like artificial flavoring--sweet; not sweet enough; better than nothing at all. The tearing of the teeth of monsters was not the familiar tearing of his brother, of Heine, but it was a link, it would suffice.
In the street below the ruined building, four of the monsters were pawing at a window--one squat, three larger. All were half-rotted, all were nearly blind, all had claws and teeth and all were waiting for him.
Giovanni smiled and crawled out of his crouch, standing at the edge of the building. He could see others, moving around in the darkness--dark shapes of monsters; white shapes of brave people walking, their arms clutched tightly to their sides. His smile widened and he jumped to the ground, three easy movements, landing opposite of the creatures with a hiss. They turned to him, immediately; the squat one ran forward, latched onto his arm with its teeth. Giovanni let it, smiling; Giovanni put a hand on its rotting head, smiling; Giovanni pressed the barrel of his gun against its neck and shot, breathing in the smell, breathing in the monster's howl.
When: Tuesday night Darkness hours
Where: the streets of Siren's Port!
Summary: Gin a body that can't die meet a body that can't die, comin' through the rye....
Warnings: They're both going to die. And then recover. 8))))
It was the darkness that was the most familiar. Giovanni didn't crave familiarity, not as others did. The reconstruction of old lives, old routines--pulling on old occupations as if they were coats, walking the streets of this city as if it were their own--he loved that about these people. He loved to watch them at it, their slow toddling movements, their fumbling uncertainties, their attempts at normalcy: at recreating what they knew and came from and cared for. Like putting together a skeleton with half of the bones false, and made of tin.
What Giovanni was familiar with would not be found here: at least, not yet. He was waiting, as he always was; waiting without looking. No, he was always looking, he corrected himself, though he didn't have to. He would know when Heine Rammsteiner came to this city: he would know.
So, most familiar: the darkness. Not quite the gray of the upper world, not quite his mother's darkness below, but a close approximation. Like artificial flavoring--sweet; not sweet enough; better than nothing at all. The tearing of the teeth of monsters was not the familiar tearing of his brother, of Heine, but it was a link, it would suffice.
In the street below the ruined building, four of the monsters were pawing at a window--one squat, three larger. All were half-rotted, all were nearly blind, all had claws and teeth and all were waiting for him.
Giovanni smiled and crawled out of his crouch, standing at the edge of the building. He could see others, moving around in the darkness--dark shapes of monsters; white shapes of brave people walking, their arms clutched tightly to their sides. His smile widened and he jumped to the ground, three easy movements, landing opposite of the creatures with a hiss. They turned to him, immediately; the squat one ran forward, latched onto his arm with its teeth. Giovanni let it, smiling; Giovanni put a hand on its rotting head, smiling; Giovanni pressed the barrel of his gun against its neck and shot, breathing in the smell, breathing in the monster's howl.