B - Because Ken really has no luck, and neither does Schuweiss_tankApril 13 2011, 06:32:45 UTC
[Ken was out and about, considering where he was going to look for a gun or rifle to give to Omi until he got his own back. It was also a nice day so he walked. Drone Nagi...hmmm...while Ken kinda liked having prodigy around if only to keep an eye on him, it was a bit of a relief not to worry about the bastard putting glass shards in Miakis's or now Omi's food.
He hasn't noticed the last memeber of the quartet of evil.]
[But Schuldig notices Ken. How could he miss him, after all? And, if Ken were paying attention...he'd notice Schuldig isn't smiling. That's usually a bad sign for someone, because the only thing more dangerous than a cackling Mastermind is an angry one.
He stalks toward Ken. He hasn't decided what he'll do yet, but given their history together...probably nothing pleasant.]
[It was the feeling of sudden and impending dread that seemed to alert Ken to Schuldig coming his way. Maybe it was that small part of him that was inclined towards being almost feral that would show up later in his life. Who knows. Still. He sees you know. There was a small moment of oh hell what the fuck, but he manages to brace himself.
Ken knows this can't be avoided now, and he is quickly shifting to battle ready mode.]
[Schuldig...stops, a few feet away - out of comfortable lunging range, anyway. He's in a fickle mood, the sort where even he doesn't know what he wants at any given moment. What he knows is that he wants to destroy things, to rip through flesh and framework...but he doesn't have the energy or inclination for an acual fight. He isn't going to tangle with Ken, at least not directly.
A smirk curves his lips at the other man's combative stance, however.] Already bloodthirsty, Siberian? I haven't even done anything yet.
[Holland can be found sitting on the curb, enjoying a cigarette. It's become a near-regular spot for him; he didn't like to spend time in the house with the drone wife and he didn't really have any place he wanted to go at the moment.
[Schuldig is brought up short in his scanning of minds by Holland. A nation. Holland is hardly the first of such minds he's encountered in Mayfield, but they're always headache-inducing - which is hardly what he needs right now.
So what does an irritable telepath do with a headache when someone else causes it? Naturally, he vicariously inflicts it on the person who gave it to him. It's only fair. He also takes some petty satisfaction in the fact that Holland probably won't have the slightest idea where it's coming from.]
Got any more? [He's referring to the cigarette. He doesn't smoke regularly, only when stressed - but now definitely qualifies.]
Left them in the house. [The reply is so utterly disinterested; he doesn't even look at Schuldig. He might have had one or two stashed in his pockets, but he just didn't care enough to bother.]
[After a long exhale, he rubs the back of his head a little. His head was slowly starting to hurt and he felt tired. It had been a long day, after all.]
I could go get one. [Schuldig's aware Holland has cigarettes on him, but doesn't care enough to point that out. Sauntering into the man's house and rifling through his things, however? That would be entertaining.]
[Unfortunately, Schuldig doesn't particularly look the part of a telepath; he just looks grumpy, and Dist is kind of on a "people need me!" high so his decision-making skills aren't the best.]
[Dist steps back, suddenly apprehensive despite Schudig not actually saying anything particularly confrontational or indicting. He huffs, straightening himself up.]
Usually they leave it to the less-stable members of our population to do it for them.
[Schuldig smirks to himself. Being able to intimidate someone without even making a concerted effort always improves his mood a bit. The human hindbrain recognizes a predator when it sees one, even if it's not on a conscious level.] What makes you think they have?
[Reaver is standing just outside of the hardware store, having bought more ammo for his gun. Not a very pretty pistol. Nothing like his Dragonstomper .48(s), but it certainly served its intended purpose. And who knew when he'd need to use it next. If things kept on going as they were....
The city was utterly stifling. It's people without any sense of fun. The drones so mind-numingly dull that he'd almost prefer to listen to Garth--if he hadn't killed the man anyway. But even in its most hectic moments, it had a tameness that he had not known since--no, he'd never known such. That was another man's life.
He digs through his pockets, searching for his pack of cigarettes. At least it was something he could still find pleasure in for the time being.]
[Now Reaver...Reaver is interesting. Schuldig has been ticking over minds like a man sifting through files, but this one catches his interest. Largely because, in many ways, it's similar to his. Vain, hedonistic, completely disgusted with Mayfield, needing a smoke and something to shoot.
He pauses, studying the man with a curiosity that's colored ever so faintly with amusement.] Can I have one? [Never mind that he's asking for a cigarette before Reaver's even finished fishing the pack out of his pockets...telepaths tend to preempt things by a few steps at all times.]
B - can Schu read animal minds?sanctusdeiApril 13 2011, 12:50:53 UTC
[Theo sits at an outdoor chess table, alone save for his two crow familiars, smoking and talking to them. He wants someone to play against, but of course, is afraid to ask anyone. He looks over one of the pieces in his hand while talking to the birds.]
No, the one I had back home wasn't much better, but at least the design of the pieces were a bit more... stylish. Like everything in Mayfield, these are really bland-looking.
[No, Schuldig can't read the minds of animals...the thought processes are simply too foreign to him, giving him - at best - a general for their moods that's slightly more accurate than what a casual observer could glean.
But he may be able to detect the crows' half of the conversation from Theo's own thoughts. After all, Theo knows what he's replying to.
He pauses when he spots the other man sitting at the chess table; Theo's general attitude - incredibly bitter - naturally appeals to him in this mindset, and if nothing else, chess would at least be a distraction. So - without asking - he'll slide into the chair across from Theo.]
Nothing that belongs here is actually worth anything. [He gives Theo a lazy smirk.]
[Theo is somewhat surprised to have someone sitting there. One of the crows hops close to Theo, the other still sits on the board, peering at Schuldig curiously.
Naturally, Theo's slightly nervous at the approaching of a stranger - outwardly it doesn't show, but his thoughts do. Being certifiably paranoid is never fun.]
That's the truth. But it's not like you can't still play chess with ugly pieces.
[Of course, Theo has every reason to be paranoid of Schuldig - he's terrifying. Or at least he would be if Theo knew the first thing about him. Fortunately, the telepath isn't inclined to bother Theo at the moment, since he's currently categorized Theo as a kindred spirit and a welcome distraction...in other words, two of the safest categories to be slotted in when it comes to Schuldig. He's not usually aggressive toward either.
Schuldig reaches out and plucks the chess piece from Theo's fingers, placing it where it belongs on the board.] Oh, I suppose they're still functional...but it's not nearly as enjoyable, or worthwhile.
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He hasn't noticed the last memeber of the quartet of evil.]
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He stalks toward Ken. He hasn't decided what he'll do yet, but given their history together...probably nothing pleasant.]
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Ken knows this can't be avoided now, and he is quickly shifting to battle ready mode.]
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A smirk curves his lips at the other man's combative stance, however.] Already bloodthirsty, Siberian? I haven't even done anything yet.
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This place could be so boring.]
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So what does an irritable telepath do with a headache when someone else causes it? Naturally, he vicariously inflicts it on the person who gave it to him. It's only fair. He also takes some petty satisfaction in the fact that Holland probably won't have the slightest idea where it's coming from.]
Got any more? [He's referring to the cigarette. He doesn't smoke regularly, only when stressed - but now definitely qualifies.]
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[After a long exhale, he rubs the back of his head a little. His head was slowly starting to hurt and he felt tired. It had been a long day, after all.]
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Has Mayfield started killing people again?
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Usually they leave it to the less-stable members of our population to do it for them.
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The city was utterly stifling. It's people without any sense of fun. The drones so mind-numingly dull that he'd almost prefer to listen to Garth--if he hadn't killed the man anyway. But even in its most hectic moments, it had a tameness that he had not known since--no, he'd never known such. That was another man's life.
He digs through his pockets, searching for his pack of cigarettes. At least it was something he could still find pleasure in for the time being.]
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He pauses, studying the man with a curiosity that's colored ever so faintly with amusement.] Can I have one? [Never mind that he's asking for a cigarette before Reaver's even finished fishing the pack out of his pockets...telepaths tend to preempt things by a few steps at all times.]
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Having successfully retrieved both cigarettes and lighter, he turns his attention to the other. Hmm... Not bad. ]
Oh, I suppose.
[He takes one for himself, placing it between his lips before handing another to Schuldig. Isn't he just so generous? ]
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No, the one I had back home wasn't much better, but at least the design of the pieces were a bit more... stylish. Like everything in Mayfield, these are really bland-looking.
[One of the birds chatters at him.]
Not really, they still get the job done, I guess.
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But he may be able to detect the crows' half of the conversation from Theo's own thoughts. After all, Theo knows what he's replying to.
He pauses when he spots the other man sitting at the chess table; Theo's general attitude - incredibly bitter - naturally appeals to him in this mindset, and if nothing else, chess would at least be a distraction. So - without asking - he'll slide into the chair across from Theo.]
Nothing that belongs here is actually worth anything. [He gives Theo a lazy smirk.]
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Naturally, Theo's slightly nervous at the approaching of a stranger - outwardly it doesn't show, but his thoughts do. Being certifiably paranoid is never fun.]
That's the truth. But it's not like you can't still play chess with ugly pieces.
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Schuldig reaches out and plucks the chess piece from Theo's fingers, placing it where it belongs on the board.] Oh, I suppose they're still functional...but it's not nearly as enjoyable, or worthwhile.
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