HE DIDN’T MEAN TO .he never meant to ( wouldn’t hurt a fly ! ) , but then what’s this at his heels ? not a doll, not a mannequin , but warm flesh falling chill :HE DID THIS .stained cobble , put splatters of red on worn sneakers/ you could find peeks of his socks if you searched hard enough . he sees the gun focused on him . he knows he should care , but instincts win over what he’s learned: HE FEELS NOTHING ,NO FEAR , JUST STICKINESS CLINGING TO HIS SKIN .
“i . . . did , “ blood paints the backs of his teeth , begins to turn to crust ‘ neath his nails . he gnashes enamel , wincing at the tang of metal‘ gainst his tongue : he needs to be clean , wipe himself of this dirt . a lily need not concern itself with disgusting matters . he takes a handful of steps away from the corpse . “ i – i’m sorry,who are you ? “
———A FRUIT SEVERED FROM ITS STEM RARELY SMELLED OF ROT. stunted at its size, the flesh would eventually decay over time. the same often went for people, cliche as it was. a fresh corpse didn’t often smell, despite the poetic beliefs of fiction. the man, knowing this, didn’t bother to check for a pulse ; better to not leave fingerprints nor let his guard down.
❝ you did this? ❞ the questioning continued with gun drawn. it was hard to believe that the young man was capable of such a thing unarmed, to which the natural thought was to approach with the intent of searching him.
❝ it’s not important who i am — all i want to know is… did he hurt you? ❞
“Well alright…” In the spirit of the game, Myles closed his eyes, turned around and opened them to his very…. unfortunate surprise. Elliot ( @faustium ) had walked by, both of their eyes making contact, and the slight twitch of displeasure flitted across his face. He would gladly chose someone else if it meant not having to talk to the older man, but since the street seemed rather empty, the blond knew it wouldn’t be so easy to get out of. He could just lose this portion of the game, but Myles? No, Myles didn’t want to lose some a simple technicality.
A few strides forward and a short cough to catch the an’s attention.
“I’m playing a game with my friend here, you see, and I know that we’re strangers, (head tilts as if quietly asking for a favor), B U T~ the moment I saw you and looked into your eyes…” a hand dramatically places itself on his chest, “I knew it was something more – so please. Would you accept my proposal of love at first sight? Would you marry me?”
———EYES NARROWED TO AN ALMOST UNNOTICEABLE DEGREE. the stranger, though hardly the word for the man, seemed keen on his alleged dare. rarely did he find himself approached outside of his job by another from that underworldly profession. suspicion aside, he knew better than to go roughly into this situation ; a favor was a favor.
❝ a bit young for marriage, wouldn’t you say? are you sure i’m your type, stranger… ❞
his usual smile, as uncanny adjacent as it was bordering natural, seemed to look almost genuine today. taking myles’s hand, the older man cast his gaze over to the ‘friend’ ( @gnasccr ), before returning to the other.
———HE’D NEVER BEEN THE TYPE OF PERSON TO BACK DOWN FROM A THREAT. breathing hard onto the the surface of the wall, he angled his head a moment to glare back at the larger man. his voice was gruff, a tone that shook him deep to the core. the man let out a quiet laughed.
❝ what happened to you little rule — what was it… femmes only? ❞ elliot’s restrained hands reached out behind him, grabbing at ilya’s waistband as best he could while the other resisted. oh, he’d enjoy this.
His men pulled out their guns on Elliot as he reached in his coat only to lower them as he revealed his cigarette pack. The bratva narrowed his eyes. Apologize? Him apologize? He meant what he did and he in no way felt bad or remorseful for doing so. It would be a waste of breath and a pointless lie. Putting his hands on his hips let and out humorless laugh, slowly shaking his head. The nerve of this man. He pushed his hair back from his face and met the German’s eyes with his own.
“You are really in no position to ask such things. Now, why are you here? Unless it’s to die I recommend talking.” Ilya advised gesturing towards him with an open hand. How on earth he managed to find one of their hideouts? And to so audaciously show his face here. By all rights he should have killed on the spot yet he chose against it. Perhaps it was some sliver of respect or a curiosity as to what the German can do.
———❝ YOU WOULD KILL ME? and here i came with only good intentions in mind… ❞ the man clicked his tongue in distaste, a smile just under the surface of his somewhat theatrical performance. blowing his smoke in ilya’s direction, he flicked a bit of ash off the end of his cigarette. where to begin?
❝ i have a deal i would like to discuss in private ; no guns, no posse. and to sweeten the pot — ❞ he took a last drag off his tobacco, folding the cigarette filter into his hand and displaying it before his russian counterpart. in an instant, it turned to ash as a searing fire overtook his palm.
❝ … i’d be willing to undo the damage to your face. ❞ with that, the ash in his palm reignited a white flame, reforming into the tan end of his prior smoke.
———❝ YOU’D BE SURPRISED. philosophy, at times, makes a sharp hatchet. ❞ gathering the file, the man quickly thumbed through the materials. it was without question that his target would be on higher security now that his predecessor fucked up the kill. to most, the german came as a last resort in situations like this; he’d been cleaning up other people’s messes since his teens.
❝ i’ll have it done wednesday if the weather permits ; if i can help it, i don’t like wasting an employer’s time. ❞
❝i’ve heard it all before. something like that wouldn’t frighten me.❞
———❝ IT’S NOT A MATTER OF FEAR. consider me a cautious person, but i like to have a plan in place when it comes to supernatural issues. ❞ he pushed his cigarette against the inside of the ashtray, lifting from his chair on the porch. the german hadn’t been back to new orleans since the hurricane; to him, the french quarter looked exactly how he’d last pictured it, almost two decades ago.
INTRIGUED is he , inching closer with acorn placed very gently into their palm . he does not KNOW what english exactly is , again , he is but an alien – one relatively NEW to earth . the concept of multiple languages existing on one planet seemed IMPOSSIBLE . “ . . english is ? ” && he then plops down next to them , STARING with wide eyes .
———WHAT WAS MORE CONFUSING THAN THE STATEMENT, was the fact he didn’t sense the other was lying. folding his paper over, the man held out an article before the stranger. it outlined the fiscal deficit and what it meant in relation to their trade partners; dull enough but above an elementary level of reading comprehension.
OH – clever , ‘course he shouldn’t expect things for free . how cruel was it of them though , dangling the cigarette over him like they were playing with some CAT . he huffs , hand moved to cup a pale cheek as eyes roll to the side in thought . “ mmm . . well , what do you want ? perhaps – a kiss on the cheek will suffice ? ”
———❝ AS NICE AS IT SOUNDS… i would not twist your arm for that. ❞ he lowered the coffin nail, handing it to beni as he moved to close the pack. offering his lighter, the man almost found it funny when he’d demonstrated his affinity to pyrokinesis not long ago.
———❝ YOU HAVE STRANGE THOUGHTS FOR A MAN IN YOUR OCCUPATION. why think it when you’ve lived it? ❞ plucking a cigarette from within the box, the man settled into the chair which he’d drawn from the table. it was just before evening, the sun already drawn past the shoreline, dusk beginning to take over the reddish hues of the sky.
❝ i’m still young, in relative terms ; i know for a fact there are mortal people older than i. ❞ he turned to the other, eyes inquisitive.
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