01 ✘ ACTION/VOICE

[savatic]

[ having located the residence provided to him in the Water District of the city, Giovanni's interest has shifted to understanding the circumstances surrounding the complexity that is his arrival in Zodion. after spending an unprecedented amount of time looking at the seemingly unscarred tattoo on his face in the mirror, he returns to the bustle of

Comments

action;

[devouredblade]

[ hey guess who's in the Water District! ...despite trying to get to the Fire District...! AREN'T YOU LUCKY.

he was just about to enter Giovanni's general proximity as the last puff of smoke dissolves into the air, but pauses when he catches the end part of what he's saying, and eyes the bits of ash on the floor. when Magato finally speaks, it's with an open leer, hands coming up to hook in his beltloops, leaning against the stone under a nearby overhang to shade him from the--well, nothing, since there's no sun. ]

Well aren't you giving up easily.

action;

[savatic]

[ Giovanni's eyes narrow behind his glasses; he feels the pang of contempt at the sight of the, frankly, rather noxious expression on the man's face. he takes a step away, his gaze directed elsewhere, effectively turning his back to Magato. ]

I have no reason to discard my other weapon. I'm not done yet. But there's nothing limiting me from acting later.

action;

[devouredblade]

[ wow rude.

shrugging off Giovanni's words with a twist of his lips, he pushes off the wall, stepping towards the other without hesitation and more than a little of that noxious expression. he wants to get a closer look at the ashes. ]

Yeeeah, but t'go as far to say "your will has been bound"? Come on.

[ a beat-- ]

Huh. How d'you even know it'll ease off later?

action;

[savatic]

[ still, Giovanni doesn't turn to face him, instead scowling at the pile of ash at his feet. maybe "my will has been bound" was a little dramatic but he was just inclined to speak that way, always had been. the curtain had been closed for intermission but the show was far from over. he doesn't address that part. ]

I don't. I simply meant to say that nothing is stopping me from changing my mind in the future. And perhaps, by then, more will be understood. It's clear that they want us alive. That's all I can say.

[ with a smile replaced, he turns his head back finally. ]

Currently, we're being held captive.

action;

[devouredblade]

[ hell right it's dramatic. but it's cool, it's cool-- Magato gets that a little dramatics are necessary sometimes. just not when they immediately piss him off. ]

Huh. That much is clear even if we don't know why, yeah...but maybe it's just 'cause they don't want their worker bees killing each other off, right? Not outta some mercy or whatever.

[ wow this train off thought is winding tighter in his mind, the idea that there's a possibility he couldn't fuel his little habit at the push of some big hand is. haha. it's annoying. more than annoying, actually...

leaning down to the ash (keeping Giovanni at the corner of his eye, catching that look when he turns back), Magato picks up a little between two fingers, holding it up to his eyes; shaded with the strands of hair falling to cover his face. ]

You sound almost at peace with the whole thing. I 'aint gonna lie, stranger, that pisses me off just a little.

action;

[savatic]

[ Giovanni doesn't respond at first, but as he observes Magato kneeling and scooping up ash, he's thinking that if these gods have the power to keep their so called worker bees from killing each other, then they should have the power to make the exception of harming oneself if it's out of greed rather than mercy.

he's hardly at peace, though, even if that's the way he'd like to present himself. the idea was simply something he had to adapt to. it didn't do any good for him to get worked up... not to say that he wasn't already doing that. the test in and of itself was an indication of that. being here at all was a betrayal. what did it make him? just like Heine? that was unacceptable. ]

No one wants to be controlled, at least to such a full extent. I have things I need to return to, things that understandably deem more important than the whims of otherworldly gods. But it's not going to do you or I any good to whine and moan about the situation.

action;

[devouredblade]

[ unacceptable, or just something he'd have to adapt to, just like everything else? --at least, that's what he might think, if he understood the situation. right now, though he's rubbing the ash between two fingers, watching it smudge his fingertips as the other speaks.

biting off a sharp laugh, he stands straight in one quick, smooth motion, close to the other and with a grin twisted wiiiide across his face. ]

Haaah, see, that's just it! You submit all cowardly-like only to backpedal and give such a flimsy reason! It's really,

[ his fingers snap back to the small of his back, curling around the hilt of a long knife, drawing it upward slowly and against the side of the sheath so as to make a noise-- ]

-- really off-putting, y'know?

action;

[savatic]

[ cowardly? backpedal? heh. what a bunch of lousy assumptions. Giovanni doesn't really see a reason to fight (being called cowardly wasn't enough at all), but that doesn't mean he won't do it now, won't do it when he's threatened. after all, the chances that he would lose against an unmodified human were terribly low and now he knows that something or someone is keeping him from dying, even to regenerate once he's dead.

so, fine. if he wants a fight so easily, Giovanni will grant him that. it was a shame he'd leave this confrontation alive, but he'd have to make do. ]

Do you usually attack those you find off-putting? Please keep in mind that you're the one who referred to me as "almost at peace with this whole thing," but in no way did I mean to insinuate the validity of that statement.

[ his remaining pistol is withdrawn, though he hesitates to actually fire it despite the stance to do so that he takes. he'd rather not lose it to the ashes as well. ]

action;

[devouredblade]

[ sorry, he isn't even thinking of those things by now. he's thinking is this shit about the weapons true and how can i bypass it and is it worth trying-- stuff like that. the blade is already at his side, arm coiling as his body does the same, full of potential energy and the will to strike. maybe he doesn't want to kill the guy really, but he does want to take out a little of this frustration on him, at least. ]

Hey, hey, hey-- the meaning of your dramatics is undeniable. And nah-- only sometimes--

[ fingers tightening around the blade he aims a strike towards Giovanni's arm, already feeling it burn in his hand. he can tell it won't make it before burning up into ash, so Magato draws another with his other hand, curling his arm towards him in a weaker, stabbing motion.

everything feels hot. his hands, his-- his tongue the mark burning as the knives begin to disintegrate under his fingertips, but he keeps the motion moving towards the other-- ]

...when they remind me of bad little dogs.

action;

[savatic]

[ Giovanni would be thinking about the weapons if he didn't already prove to himself that it was true, to his dismay. though he is thinking about whether Magato will be able to hit him or not before the blades disintegrate. blades are different in properties than guns after all, so he couldn't be sure how they would react. he'd shoot, but he knows it won't work the way he wants it to so he raises his gun in a more defensive manner to block the blow of his knife, already losing its form. ]

What's wrong, are you a cat person?

[ he thinks to jump back and away but comes to the realization that the only truly effective method of attack he can take is with his own two hands, and with that in mind, throws a punch to his jawline without further caution towards his blades, should they remain intact. ]

If you want to call me a dog, that's fine, but I'm of the highest breed unlike a mutt like you.

[ whether he's successful in hitting Magato or not, he finds that it's tremendously easier than when he tried to shoot his gun; there's no signs

action;

[devouredblade]

[--predictably, the blades collapse into burning, whirring ash just as they're about to sink into Giovanni's jacket, leaving Magato's hands feeling as if they'd touched a heated pan on accident. that better fucking smudge his coat, at least, for all it's burning him and left him two blades down.

partly expecting this outcome, however, he stretches his fingers out, pivoting them towards Giovanni's chest to try to grab his shirt near the collar, to drag the other towards him-- even as the fist strikes the side of his jaw, he keeps the motion going through the sharp sound that left his throat with the punch, lined up with the crack of knuckle hitting bone. maybe something cracked for real, but to be honest he's putting the pain out of mind, eyes singularly on Giovanni beyond that fist.

honestly, Magato might have attempted to say something witty here, had his tongue not felt as if it were on fire. instead, all he can do is let out a harsh hiss, body propelling forward. ]

action;

[savatic]

[ there's a black singe burned into the sleeve of his coat; no injury. he doesn't take notice of it and feels a surge of satisfaction, of adrenaline as his fist connects hard enough to make a sound. he's not particularly inclined towards fist fighting or any type of street fighting really but the Cerberus collar made his body resilient enough to take it up if he so desired. it's always been something he liked observing in Heine but had considered generally below his set of skills.

a breath of a laugh catches in his throat as his collar, his necktie is yanked, lunging him forward-- he doesn't trip, steadies himself and momentarily considers biting, something else he associated closely with Heine and the other dogs of war, too beast-like for his own preference to refinement. instead, close like this, he takes another swing, this time for Magato's stomach in hopes of knocking the wind right out of him

action;

[devouredblade]

[ expression manic, fingers tightening around fabric, Magato throws his weight forward, into the direction of the fist. he'd take it, if needed, but hell if it's going to be as bad the closer he is or if he's going to run away. it hits hard, almost knocking the wind out of him, and for a second he almost loses his grip-- only to pull tighter, dragging the other close to his face (or failing that, bringing himself as close as possible).

it's fun, but not enough. now he knows that-- at least with killing intent-- it's true about weapons here. that's just too fucking bad. turning his head just slightly, Magato spits out a bit of blood from where he'd bit the side of his tongue during the scuffle. ]

Sorry, buddy--

[ another hiss of a sound, and his vision redirects to Giovanni's face, trying to see past those glasses. ]

--but it doesn't matter if you're pedigree or a fuckin' tramp, everyone here is a stray dog all the same. You're just going to have to learn to put your head down or howl with the rest of us.

action;

[savatic]

[ Giovanni cringes with the expulsion of blood so close to his own face, pulled up close, too close, too close, too close. he looks past his glasses with a steady glare, his mouth widening into a grin tight with anger, and something else (he doesn't like that, doesn't like that at all-- but it's true, and even the best of them was nothing more than a collarless mutt better off in the pound).

the 9mm still in one hand, he jams it under Magato's chin, starts to feel it warm in his hand before he even presses down on the trigger. ]

Speak for yourself. I have a home.

[ it's momentarily burning, succeeding in nothing but mess and no bullet, even at close proximity. ]

action;

[devouredblade]

[ sorry, babe-- everyone's pulled down to the same shit here. get keen or go cry with your uselessness. ]

Yeah, yeah-- just like the rest of us, huh...!

[ teeth grit into a frenzied grin, Magato pushes his chin down onto the barrel of the gun, feeling it heat against his skin. would it burn, if the other pulled the trigger? would it scar? would the bullet even make it to him? hahahaha it's too fucking fun to think about-- even as he's pushing against the other where he still held him, hard, shoving him away. ]

Hello, hello? [ he spares a quick glance around him-- ] I don't see your master coming to save you right now, Glasses...! So, what was that about a home...!?

action;

[savatic]

[ with a growl, Giovanni pulls the trigger, feels it snap in his hand-- as soon as he does, he's hissing with the pain of burning metal clasped tight in his hand as the gun falls to ashes like a broken up clod of dirt. it's infuriating really, not to be able to send the bullet, that has inevitably fallen to ashes along with the pistol, straight through the peremptory head of a fool like him.

he had heard all sorts of what was more or less the same from Heine, vulgar references to his dependency on his "master"-- but it was one thing to hear it from the brother who ran away like a coward and a stranger, someone with no sincere ability to judge or understand. ]

I don't need saving; I can take care of myself. Don't you know anything about dogs? If they lose their way from home, it's in their instinct to return.

[ his hand is clenched into a fist beneath Magato's chin where his gun was once held-- he unfurls his fingers with a twitch of muscles and grips down on his throat, the burning to his tattoo and to his hand coming back twofold.