[closed] [incomplete]
Characters: dyingames and nebensonne.
Location: Joshua's apartment.
Rating: PG, may rise. /POPS COLLAR.
Time: Backdated to the 27th, after this.
Description: Giovanni breaks into Joshua's house to go through his collection of frilly panties terrorise him. It's super effective.
( tell me what you've come for. )
Location: Joshua's apartment.
Rating: PG, may rise. /POPS COLLAR.
Time: Backdated to the 27th, after this.
Description: Giovanni breaks into Joshua's house to go through his collection of frilly panties terrorise him. It's super effective.
( tell me what you've come for. )
His walk had put him in a relatively good mood. He was finally adjusting to the weather here, had been managing to get off with only the lightest dusting of sunburn across his cheeks and nose.
Joshua was humming when he reached the doorway, eyes half closed in concentration on the tune, as though it were important, delicate in some way. He didn't even notice the lock on the ground, or that the door had offered no resistance, until it was made quite obvious that his couch was occupied.
The tune died in his throat.
Recognition flashed across his features in an instant, closely followed by something wary in the line of his shoulders. It only took a moment for him to recover, though, expression smoothing into a light smile, body slipping into a sort of forced relaxation.
Giovanni was in his apartment, had probably been for some time by the looks of things, running was not a good idea, no weapons were in reach and darting for the kitchen knives would end badly, and he hated it.
"I would have cleaned up a bit if I knew to be expecting guests, Giovanni."
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The door swung wider without hesitation, and he looked at a face he recognised fairly well - and saw recognition there too, the way he froze in his tracks, and Giovanni's lips peeled back from his teeth in a way that was not remotely disarming. And it was a perfect, expressionless look that Joshua showed him in return, like an animal catching sight of its predator almost, and Giovanni waited, unmoving, as Joshua forced his body at ease, forced the smile on his face, and it didn't manage to subtract an inch of the tension around him. It just amplified it.
"I've saved you a waste of time," he answered smoothly, "since there wasn't anything to clean." He uncrossed his legs, moved to stand, studying the other as he did. Joshua was shorter than he was expecting, somehow - thinner and less built than he'd assumed, slighter than someone of his physical age would typically be, and maybe it was because of that shape he'd shown him once, affecting his memory, something bigger and taller and stronger. But, well.
... This was better. If he was in no physical condition to stand up against Giovanni.
"Shibusen has agents in all directions, as well. But I don't think that they'll catch me when I leave." His mouth twitches wider. "It's a flawed riddle, isn't it. Not taking something like this into account.
"... The door won't shut, now, but push it as much as you can. Then you should come and sit."
It's his home, after all.
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"Will there be anything to clean now that you've undoubtably gone through my possessions, or were you kind enough to put them back properly?"
The ex-Composer kept his eyes locked on Giovanni, refusing to drop the facade of comfort even as petulance flared somewhere in his chest. He could practically feel the taller man sizing him up, deeming him weak, easy prey. Comparing this fragile body to that of his true self.
Joshua had never taken well to being judged, being compared with anyone or anything, let alone being decided upon as the inferior. Joshua didn't like to lose, even to himself. Especially to himself.
A breath.
"All riddles are flawed in some way. Else there would be no possibility for a single correct answer." He shrugged lightly, then, and nudged the door mostly closed with a heel, eyes still fixed carefully on the invader.
"I don't suppose that's a request, is it." A pause, while Joshua obviously considers refusing, if only to establish that there is some sort of resistance.
But he was no fool, and finally stepped forward, still watching Giovanni even as he perched on the armrest of his couch.
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He watched as Joshua moved compliantly closer, followed his long trail across the room to the couch, and waited until he'd sat tentatively down. It was easy to reacquaint himself with how he looked, and remember why it was that he took an interest in him in the first place: silver hair which reminded of something else, someone else, his white skin. Not the same, though, but he looked a lot like he used to. What he remembered in his flashes of distant memory.
... But there was also a lot that was different, in the end. Different place, different person. Different eyes to stare him down with, and Joshua didn't have the same confidence, the same sure-footedness or the same intensity in his eyes, and Giovanni could understand. Even if he'd never had Joshua's power to lose, even if something of that magnitude was still beyond him, he knew. It must have been scary to be so human.
Did that make them even?
Giovanni moved towards him regardless, breached the gap. His footsteps were muffled on the carpet, his leather shoes creaking. He towered over him fairly effectively. Looking down at him, he clicked his tongue against the wall of his smiling teeth.
This. This was fine. This was pretty much exactly where he needed him.
"Have you lived alone since you came here?"
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Joshua was given the distinct impression that this was how it felt to be prey - a feeling he may have had before, once, but one that had long since faded with time and power. A Composer (though forever hunted, position coveted by his own subordinates and with Reapers being so backstabbing by nature) never felt fear.
At least, not that sort of fear.
The ex-Composer stood his ground, though every inch of him was locked with the effort it took not to lean back. He wouldn't, wouldn't give Giovanni the satisfaction, not any more than he already was.
It was jarring, to be on this end of the proceedings.
"Yes."
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"You were."
Giovanni knew he wouldn't defy this. Even if every inch of bone and muscle and gristle and flesh told him that he needed to. What would he do?
He rememberED what Kurapika told him easily. That a Meister is powerless without a Weapon, and that was what made a Weapon valuable to them, and that's what made Joshua feel so non-threatening, so convenient, even having tasted some small extent of his unleashed power. He was a Meister, wasn't he? So without his power, he was at a severe disadvantage.
"I've been compromised slightly. You might remember that other project of mine." But he wasn't about to elaborate. "I'll be staying here on occasion."
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"Compromised." He repeated, tonelessly, not even bothering to ask for an explanation. He knew that Giovanni would withhold the answers even if they weren't important at all, just to exert that little bit more power over him.
As if this wasn't bad enough.
Briefly Joshua wondered which project this was really about -- the cards, or Joshua himself?
But he shook the thought off, instead finally breaking eye contact with his assailant. Future roommate.
"Why here?" He regretted the question immediately, biting his lip.
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