[ it's brief, no more than a fraction of a second, but he sees it - flash of greeneyes blondhair, the orange lenses lowering to reveal faint silvery marking around giovanni's right eye. he almost misses it, but when he does see it - hah, he could laugh. how perfectly fucked up. ]
For now, no-- I'm still up and fighting. But eventually, I suspect that my answer will change.
[ not that he's pleased with this any but it's the impression he's getting and there's no use in being pointlessly stubborn to the point that he accomplishes nothing. ]
Until then, I'm anticipating seeing you break first... Heine.
[ stepping away from the table and pushing his chair back in, Giovanni takes a few steps around the side of it, closer to Heine. ]
That I don't belong in that aspect of your life and thus should mind my own business? But is that on the basis of logic or your own inadequacy? I'm only making an assumption but I'm certain that gynophobia extends to such a category.
[ the distance closing again, and heine (despite the voice, despite the metallic taste in the back of his throat saying riptearkill, stands his ground, breathes in and out steadily with every step that giovanni takes. ]
I'm saying what I'm saying.
Fuck off. I wouldn't want to get myself banned from here.
without a word, heine silently gives up on ever setting foot in here again -- bad coffee or not, it was the principle of the thing .... but guess giovanni was just too fucking dumb to understand it, as usual -- his foot catches the leg of the chair that he's pushed back when he stood up, and heine kicks it up, sending it flying at giovanni, ducking at the same time to ram his shoulder against his midriff if the chair tactic doesn't work.
next stop: table. hope you can dodge the coffee. ]
[ when you're pushing it on purpose, it's hardly fair to be judged as dumb but he wouldn't expect any other judgment from Heine, who wouldn't ever acknowledge a shred of good in him. no, not even a reluctant nod to his intelligence or to the power he had through the Cerberus collar-- of course not, because in the end, he was the greatest and the great had no need to acknowledge those below them. ]
There we go!
[ he sounds excited, definitely not put off in any way by the attack-- and though there's a slight sting to it, he braces himself to catch the chair instead of kicking it out of his way, holding it in Heine's way as he pushes forward, a temporary shield. ]
[ heine raises one of his arm up in that split second to avoid colliding directly with the chair; a heavy thud of flesh and bone hitting wood but the force behind the push is enough to force them both away (heine forwards, giovanni backwards). wrapping a hand tightly around a leg of the chair (mostly to brace himself, and partly to stop giovanni from getting too much upper hand in this with a usable blunt weaponry), he brings his free hand up and away into a fist, clearly intending to strike the other.
good time, my ass. he didn't get him, didn't understand at all. even in a place like this - it was the same old boring things all over again, making him sick to the stomach. ]
[ it wasn't boring if it had purpose! ... and honestly, this is the first time it really doesn't. he's fully aware he can't kill Heine here (really had to be kidding himself if he believed he could do it otherwise but there was at least a chance, yeah?), and thus any personal motive behind it is made moot-- the interests of their mother are no longer relevant either.
if he couldn't kill him, he'd at least make him mad. maybe he'd even let the rest who had the privilege of viewing in on the existence of the very thing that drew Giovanni's interest towards pushing him, again and again.
with Heine grabbing onto the other end of the chair, he could only be so successful in using it to block his fist, so he lets go of it entirely, dodging and ending up a few steps away from the table with the same grin. ]
What happened to not getting banned from this establishment?
[ not that he cares-- it's better this way. and he's saying as much as he grabs the umbrella shading a nearby table straight from it (effortlessly, really) and directs it
( ... )
[ getting banned is the least of his concerns, now, as giovanni discards the chair and steps away with a grin. heine growls, the feral sound almost ripping out from his throat, hissed out through gritted teeth. tastes metallic and bitter, this anger, this feeling that comes over him whenever he has to deal with giovanni ... yes, 'deal', there isn't any other word to describe it. giovanni is just a pest, and an annoying one at that, because he knows (and he knows that giovanni knows that he knows), no matter how much he tries to distance himself from it all, hide the collar with the bandages, hide his past under silence and glowering red eyes, giovanni still knows more than anyone else ever can find out. ]
Fuck you.
[ he spits out, having just enough time to duck, rolling away from the umbrella (really?). ]
[ he knows-- and all of the things that line up with it, all of the things that follow suit with knowing. no one can find out but someone is bound to find out. it's only a matter of time. and beneath the bandages and all of the other things keeping his real self, his other self hidden, he can't escape it. he and Giovanni both wear the collar (though Heine wraps it away shamefully) and it kept them grounded in who they really were whether they liked it or not.
the same as always. ]
That's not nice.
[ - his tone's light; he doesn't really care but that much is obvious. on second thought, a weapon like this wasn't going to be as effective as the sole of his shoe (the thought occurring to him as Heine rolls onto the ground like an animal), so he discards it with a toss to his feet, inclining his head towards where Heine has gone to. it was too bad he was just a bit too far away for him to rush in and crush him underfoot without looking ridiculous. ]
give him a few minutes because he recognizes the sound a certain someone's voice nearby. it wouldn't be much use, but... ]
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Haha-- You're kidding.
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Is that what you're doing, Giovanni?
[ his patience finally breaks, hissing out his name from between his teeth. ]
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[ not that he's pleased with this any but it's the impression he's getting and there's no use in being pointlessly stubborn to the point that he accomplishes nothing. ]
Until then, I'm anticipating seeing you break first... Heine.
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Wouldn't it be nice to finally come before me in something, isn't that right?
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I'm sure there's something even the best of the best isn't good at. Things by which he has no experience, for example.
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[ heine's hands flex, clenching into fists. wouldn't it be just great if he could punch the daylight out, along with giovanni's face? ]
Hasn't that bitch taught you to not sniff around where you don't belong?
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[ stepping away from the table and pushing his chair back in, Giovanni takes a few steps around the side of it, closer to Heine. ]
That I don't belong in that aspect of your life and thus should mind my own business? But is that on the basis of logic or your own inadequacy? I'm only making an assumption but I'm certain that gynophobia extends to such a category.
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I'm saying what I'm saying.
Fuck off. I wouldn't want to get myself banned from here.
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But the coffee's not even very good.
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without a word, heine silently gives up on ever setting foot in here again -- bad coffee or not, it was the principle of the thing .... but guess giovanni was just too fucking dumb to understand it, as usual -- his foot catches the leg of the chair that he's pushed back when he stood up, and heine kicks it up, sending it flying at giovanni, ducking at the same time to ram his shoulder against his midriff if the chair tactic doesn't work.
next stop: table. hope you can dodge the coffee. ]
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There we go!
[ he sounds excited, definitely not put off in any way by the attack-- and though there's a slight sting to it, he braces himself to catch the chair instead of kicking it out of his way, holding it in Heine's way as he pushes forward, a temporary shield. ]
I hope you'll show me a good time!
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good time, my ass. he didn't get him, didn't understand at all. even in a place like this - it was the same old boring things all over again, making him sick to the stomach. ]
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if he couldn't kill him, he'd at least make him mad. maybe he'd even let the rest who had the privilege of viewing in on the existence of the very thing that drew Giovanni's interest towards pushing him, again and again.
with Heine grabbing onto the other end of the chair, he could only be so successful in using it to block his fist, so he lets go of it entirely, dodging and ending up a few steps away from the table with the same grin. ]
What happened to not getting banned from this establishment?
[ not that he cares-- it's better this way. and he's saying as much as he grabs the umbrella shading a nearby table straight from it (effortlessly, really) and directs it ( ... )
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Fuck you.
[ he spits out, having just enough time to duck, rolling away from the umbrella (really?). ]
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the same as always. ]
That's not nice.
[ - his tone's light; he doesn't really care but that much is obvious. on second thought, a weapon like this wasn't going to be as effective as the sole of his shoe (the thought occurring to him as Heine rolls onto the ground like an animal), so he discards it with a toss to his feet, inclining his head towards where Heine has gone to. it was too bad he was just a bit too far away for him to rush in and crush him underfoot without looking ridiculous. ]
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