11 • [voice|action]

[endthem]

[he doesn't bother with any false cheer this time, or an attempt at any other personable inflection. He leaves it to fall at its natural hollow monotone, speaking somewhere near the journal but not directly to it. It's monologue time.]

The new year--a time for reflection and promises... and comically well-timed, it seems. At least, now I think I

Comments

[not_a_bluesbro]

[Scruffy boy? You mean this one?

Because he's busy walking with that journal in hand. He's got his usual black coat with the sleeves rolled, and more wintry attire. Of course, he doesn't even look up and note anyone's presence.

...Th'hell is this journal even about.]

[endthem]

[well... he expected some similarity to the adult version he knew, but seeing this? It is almost too much. He has to fight back the amusement in his voice as he watches the sulking future-priest wander past.]

Well... look at you.

[not_a_blueskid]

[He almost just assumes the voice is talking to someone else-he's kept to himself, mostly, and he can probably count the number of people who actually know him on his fingers. He turns slowly, catching the impending coat in his vision and following it to an unfamiliar face.

He's far less friendly than Vash, suffice to say, and it's obvious in his cautious gaze.]

...Huh?

[endthem]

[the reaction fits, it all makes sense. And that only increases his pleasure in running into the boy]

Nicholas D. Wolfwood, am I correct?

[not_a_blueskid]

[And unintentionally, Legato strikes a deep, dark chord in the boy: he was suspicious enough that you would know 'Nicholas', but then again, someone might have told you...

But Wolfwood... He never uses Wolfwood. He never wants to, because it's...

He takes a step back, brow furrowed.]

How'd you know that?

[endthem]

[oh, what a fascinating reaction that is]

Oh, I know quite a bit about you.

[notablueskid]

[Every seen an 8-year-old glare like this? Because here you go. A nice, demanding glare-that means you know about him from his home, right? Then... did you know...]

Did you know the old man, then?

[Nerves create a clutter of butterflies in his stomach.]

Were you one of his friends?

[endthem]

[his head tilts a little as he regards the child, deciphering him by his expression. Intriguing.]

Regardless of whether I know him or not, I can assure you that I am not his friend.

[not_a_bluesbro]

... [Then-Then-] Who are you?

[He's making plenty of room between him and the man, step by careful step.]

[endthem]

[he's just watching the boy slink back, making no move to go after him]

My name is Legato Bluesummers. We work together when you're older. [of course]

[not_a_bluesbro]

[He's not believing this shit for a second. You must be one of those crazies, right? The kind that no one pays attention to, on the streets. Just a loony nut.]

You're outta your mind, old man...

[He huffs, but he's still curious.]

What do y'mean, 'work together'?

[endthem]

Comrades, you could say. Later on, when you're more than a petulant whelp, we work for the same employer. You become quite skilled, I must admit.

[not_a_blueskid]

[Whelp?]

Ski... What th'hell do you mean?!

[He's not making any sense, at all.]

[endthem]

[yeah, he called you a whelp. And, instead of answering the question directly, he thinks of another one]

Do you know a man called Chapel?

[not_a_blueskid]

[He lowers his chin.]

No, I don't know anyone named 'Chapel'.

[The truth, too. It would be a few months before that name became important.]

[endthem]

[how disappointing. Legato frowns a little to himself, at that]

Well, that is a pity. I was hoping you would have been able to do something for me.