[Wind rustling through long grass, a distant call of a bird, long and cheerful, sun on warm skin, just a whisper of a cloud's shadow, a rich scent of earth in the air - it is peaceful
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[He's getting used to the small screen and unearthed voices by now, even the video feed that shoots back a picture of an amused man this time. He considers the stranger for a moment, then lifts a chin, eyes narrowing in a challenge.]
[ An easy, almost graceful shrug of his shoulders, and he studies him lazily. Blonde, relatively young, and with an attitude. Not too bad, as far as strangers went. ]
[Just a pale glimmer of a smirk beginning at the corners of his mouth, he lowers his chin this time to study this man with mismatched eyes, fascinated by the lack of any type of nervousness, which is a commonplace between two total strangers. This man feels dangerously cool. And he likes it.]
Explosive, hmn.
[And then a sharper grin.]
Hard to explain. Would you rather have a personal demonstration? [He's not exactly threatening Mukuro, just randomly poking at the open flesh to see if it bruises.]
Technically he could just not respond. Really, if he wants to not hear Deidara's voice, that would be the way to go. Put the Hitomi down. Step away. Right.
[The call of ego, it's pretty insistent, isn't it? Or perhaps it is some queer sense of justice, the blond is pretty damn annoying.
As promised, Deidara freezes completely when seeing this one particular face. A face he thought he had destroyed. And he was so proud about it! ...in a way. Dying had been rather different experience than he had expected, after all.
But none of that matters right now. Because Sasuke is there. And saying he survive, which evidently means Deidara failed. His art failed. Even after all his work and dedication. It had failed.
And all the blond shinobi can muster to really say is:]
[Not that he is looking specifically to start a fight or anything. Not that he is looking for an excuse, and certainly not that Sasuke has recently discovered that hacking a deserving individual to bits, despite constant reminders that revenge and violence will leave you unsatisfied, Sasuke, actually feels fucking great, certainly a lot better than pretty much everything else (living, breathing, thinking) feels.
On the other hand. Not that Sasuke is necessarily opposed to violence, or at the very least ruining someone's day.]
Perceptive as always.
Although I suppose I'm wrong. Your art did have at least one casualty, not counting trees and rocks. Did you come here straight from death, or did you spend a bit of time in hell first this time?
[Reaction | Backdated to On Time]incisiveMay 11 2010, 18:19:45 UTC
[ Narrowing black eyes hold the still-playing video upon the screen of the Hitomi taut within them. The voice is familiar, familiar in that it continuously prickprickpricks Valeria's mind and makes it tingle in that uncomfortable way before she wholly realizes why. It isn't his tone, that he sounds and clearly must have slipped and lost at least half his marbles at some point in his life. That doesn't surprise her. He does, but he does so in all the wrong ways because the emotion is confused. She is confused, her mouth opening and closing, opening and closing, and then, a sharp pang. ]
Dei?
[ A syllable, a question, a... name? A name, his name maybe, a source of confusion, a bangbangbang that doesn't surprise her, was understood and present before she realized what it was. The name wasn't, isn't in question. The man is, was. Were he an Uchiha, the eye would be more than enough to say, but he is not, and so it is not nearly enough for her to say, but to know, to know some murky piece of a piece of a piece of jigsaw puzzle that is
( ... )
Comments 77
Art, you said?
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I bet you've heard of the concept before, hmn.
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[ An easy, almost graceful shrug of his shoulders, and he studies him lazily. Blonde, relatively young, and with an attitude. Not too bad, as far as strangers went. ]
Well, what kind of art is it?
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Explosive, hmn.
[And then a sharper grin.]
Hard to explain. Would you rather have a personal demonstration? [He's not exactly threatening Mukuro, just randomly poking at the open flesh to see if it bruises.]
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Technically he could just not respond. Really, if he wants to not hear Deidara's voice, that would be the way to go. Put the Hitomi down. Step away. Right.
Right.]
Terribly impressive.
Not very deadly, though.
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As promised, Deidara freezes completely when seeing this one particular face. A face he thought he had destroyed. And he was so proud about it! ...in a way. Dying had been rather different experience than he had expected, after all.
But none of that matters right now. Because Sasuke is there. And saying he survive, which evidently means Deidara failed. His art failed. Even after all his work and dedication. It had failed.
And all the blond shinobi can muster to really say is:]
So, you do live, hmn.
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On the other hand. Not that Sasuke is necessarily opposed to violence, or at the very least ruining someone's day.]
Perceptive as always.
Although I suppose I'm wrong. Your art did have at least one casualty, not counting trees and rocks. Did you come here straight from death, or did you spend a bit of time in hell first this time?
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Dei?
[ A syllable, a question, a... name? A name, his name maybe, a source of confusion, a bangbangbang that doesn't surprise her, was understood and present before she realized what it was. The name wasn't, isn't in question. The man is, was. Were he an Uchiha, the eye would be more than enough to say, but he is not, and so it is not nearly enough for her to say, but to know, to know some murky piece of a piece of a piece of jigsaw puzzle that is ( ... )
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