the walls have eyes ;
Who: barebacking & exarticulated.
When: Afternoon.
Where: The library.
Summary: Yaha's been stalking Destiny. Malik's been observing Yaha. It's like some sort of messed-up ouroboros of spying.
Warnings: Let's start with PG-13.
[ For some time now, the library had been Malik's safe haven in the city. The roar of cars and the towering shadows of skyscrapers were uncomfortably foreign, but at least the library's atmosphere was something was vaguely familiar with. The scent of dusty books and the rows of shelves reminded him of the rooms in Masyaf, and when he wasn't occupied with his (mind-numbingly dull) job, he spent most of his time next to a pile of books in the library. Gathering information, making himself aware of his surroundings, as he was accustomed to doing.
But this peace had been abruptly truncated, when he heard a familiar voice speaking somewhere down the rows of shelves. It was the voice of that man who claimed to have 'met with destiny.' That madman.
The problem was that this voice didn't show up just once -- it seemed the man visited the library on a regular basis.
It was mostly curiosity and a fierce distaste for the madman that drove him to hunt down that voice and observe him from a distance. Though he kept himself inconspicuous, hidden between the rows of shelves and piles of books, he kept an intense stare fixed on the strange, blonde lunatic. ]
When: Afternoon.
Where: The library.
Summary: Yaha's been stalking Destiny. Malik's been observing Yaha. It's like some sort of messed-up ouroboros of spying.
Warnings: Let's start with PG-13.
[ For some time now, the library had been Malik's safe haven in the city. The roar of cars and the towering shadows of skyscrapers were uncomfortably foreign, but at least the library's atmosphere was something was vaguely familiar with. The scent of dusty books and the rows of shelves reminded him of the rooms in Masyaf, and when he wasn't occupied with his (mind-numbingly dull) job, he spent most of his time next to a pile of books in the library. Gathering information, making himself aware of his surroundings, as he was accustomed to doing.
But this peace had been abruptly truncated, when he heard a familiar voice speaking somewhere down the rows of shelves. It was the voice of that man who claimed to have 'met with destiny.' That madman.
The problem was that this voice didn't show up just once -- it seemed the man visited the library on a regular basis.
It was mostly curiosity and a fierce distaste for the madman that drove him to hunt down that voice and observe him from a distance. Though he kept himself inconspicuous, hidden between the rows of shelves and piles of books, he kept an intense stare fixed on the strange, blonde lunatic. ]