[THREAD] all the colors gonna rot off your sight when we're around

[pastafucking]

Who: Giovanni (pastafucking) and Heine (siegheine)
Where: Abyss; the apartment Heine 'borrowed.'
When: Around 2 in the morning.
Summary: The 'brothers' meet again.
Rating: R.

Comments

[siegheine]

Heine wasn't aware of any of this; in fact, you could say that the matter of Giovanni (just a name, just some stranger, just a queasy gut feeling in his stomach, a twinge at the back of his neck) was less important to him than other more simple and everyday matters. Such as the apartment he had now successfully occupied. The white-haired male was standing in the middle of the room, a little absently looking around the small space and wondering just where the hell he should put the dead body without it being a bother, when the door burst open.

Red eyes (looking startled for only a moment) met orange sunglasses as Heine's hands pulled the guns out from their holsters, the muzzles pointing straightsteady at the figure standing there in the span of a few heartbeat, probably less.

[pastafucking]

The body on the floor barely catches his attention. What he's interested in is the living person - the living person with his guns trained on Giovanni. He smiles and draws his second Luger from the holsters underneath his jacket. Both of his guns are out now, as are Heine's; they match well, don't they? The thought makes him chuckle to himself. As much as Heine would like to deny it, they're very much alike.

"It's good to see you again."

[siegheine]

Heine wasn't expecting their meeting to be this soon, if it was ever going to happen at all. ( - Damn; it was just as he got hold of this apartment too - he'll have to find another place after this. ) The white-haired man shifted his footing slightly, the narrowed gaze never leaving the other's form and gloved fingers tightening around the triggers, but he didn't fire; it wasn't quite the time yet.

"I warned you." The voice was flat when Heine finally spoke, ignoring yet another incomprehensible sharp twinge at the back of his neck, just where the collar was.

[pastafucking]

"Let me guess." Giovanni takes a few steps forward, testing Heine's boundaries. He's not doing it so that he'll know when to stop, though; he's doing it to know when he should push harder. If he had a bit less self-control, he would be shaking - with nerves, maybe, or excitement, or anger (or all three) - but he's deliberately keeping himself still. He wants to be the one in control: Heine should be the one delirious with frustration and terror and blind rage - and with any luck, Giovanni will be the one to drive him there. "You'll kill me." The guns stay steady, muzzles both aimed at Heine's head.