[he doesn't even bother checking the slimy wreckage of the shack; Genkaku might have been cleaning, but that'd get old real quick]
[it's a toss-up between the Zen garden and the pipes, and a look(listen) to the network confirms which is the better bet]
[his boots clunk quietly along the maintenance shaft steel, his head canted upwards in search of a lazily hanging outstretched foot, ears listening for beads clinking in the flow of steam]
[ and during the pause for the blind grasp at the right word, he tucks the V back into its heated case, her matte black visage never once whining in the heat. ]
[decides not to react to that, unless he loses the fragile wording]
I was pissed 'coz ya said shit I didn't like. But it was shit that was true, an' that had'a be said, 'coz... otherwise it'd screw up the -- trust we got.
So I ain't apologisin'. S'more important for me to trust you than t'keep you happy, like some kinda yes-man.
[a hand shifts through lank hair again, pulling it off his feverish face]
[it's a toss-up between the Zen garden and the pipes, and a look(listen) to the network confirms which is the better bet]
[his boots clunk quietly along the maintenance shaft steel, his head canted upwards in search of a lazily hanging outstretched foot, ears listening for beads clinking in the flow of steam]
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[ it's a solid, trilling line of Flagpole Sitta, his voice a dry rasp in wet air; ]
E'vrybody's comin' ta get me ...
[ and when the man turns the corner, he's greeted with the snake's on-high smile. ]
Hey'a, Fox.
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[the song sticks in his head (C, G, D, D, C -- C? Or G? Shit), of course]
[he wasn't made for such heated climates and sweaty temperatures, and his hair is frazzled, a sickly sort of flush to pale and freckled cheeks]
[even his cigarette is curled and crumpled a bit]
Hiya.
[and with no patience for segues]
You still pissed?
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[ and during the pause for the blind grasp at the right word, he tucks the V back into its heated case, her matte black visage never once whining in the heat. ]
[ all that fur and no flurry, fox. ]
Payin' the price.
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Don't gotta. I get it.
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[ a final thrum and she's back and he's sliding falling, landing onto the solid flooring with a booted thump. ]
I'm gettin' sick'a slitherin' forward, too, y'know.
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[ he shoulders the V's case easily on one side, and it doesn't tilt his posture. ]
And you ain't apologizin'. So what the hell ya want?
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[he produces, with thought]
D'ya remember when I sliced the side'a your neck?
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[decides not to react to that, unless he loses the fragile wording]
I was pissed 'coz ya said shit I didn't like. But it was shit that was true, an' that had'a be said, 'coz... otherwise it'd screw up the -- trust we got.
So I ain't apologisin'. S'more important for me to trust you than t'keep you happy, like some kinda yes-man.
[a hand shifts through lank hair again, pulling it off his feverish face]
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So I say shit ya don't like an' I bleed. You say shit I don't like and I get -- what, this? Bein' slammed out? Y'got it all fuckin' backwards.
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Mm'gettin' expensive coffee. Catch ya later.
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I came to find you.
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