![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Entry tags:
( KILL LOG - WEEK 2, VINCENT )
[It's 11:00 PM on Thursday night. Most residents have retired to the motel by now, wary of the curfew spoken of in the rulebook — and with good reason. Despite the sun being perpetually visible over the horizon, there are still dangers that lurk during nighttime. Not only these "soulless beasts" mentioned in the menu, but murderers. Killers. Those who would seize the opportunity given to them by this game.
And that's what brings us to this scene, out in the city streets.]
And that's what brings us to this scene, out in the city streets.]
no subject
It's so delicate, he has to wonder how they manage to survive at all.
But here he is; his carefully chosen prey wandering beneath him. He'd been going from building to building for awhile now, utterly silent and careful.
Until now, when he's taking a step off of the roof. His face is covered, but he hasn't taken any cautions to hide himself. If he can't actually kill this guy here, he's worthless anyway.
Don't get in the way of someone trying to be a good son. ]
Hi there.
[ And he's coming down, heavy, his foot jutted out in a kick. ]
no subject
Hm. Something, huh. Some... something. Children worry about... getting eaten? Only halfway? Getting their legs broken? Who knows.
For whatever reason, he can never seem to recall how that goes, exactly. At any rate, adults worry over getting robbed or murdered. He doesn't have much in the way of money here, but the second might be cause for alarm after last week. They weren't even able to execute the right person; some of that blame lies on his shoulders, so he should be careful. If they want to get to the bottom of this - not that he has much to offer in terms of smarts - he's got to keep his head up. And everyone else's too.
So he stays out a little late, takes stock of the museum and gardens and town hall to note anything interesting, and is careful turning on his heel, alert.
Not that he was expecting an attack from the roof, mind, but the voice alerts him to it in the nick of time - with a fright he hurriedly raises his arms to guard from the kick. If nothing else he needs to keep his head shielded. ]
- T-That's not any way to greet someone... is it -
[ Kamui is already a bad son! Be nice to old men. ]
no subject
[ It's a good counter, but Kamui is nimbly landing back a couple of feet. He's managing three things at once; a friendly smile, soft conversation, and drawing himself into an offensive stance. ]
Sorry 'bout that. My parents didn't teach me my manners.
[ Well, one of them tried. The other was the lowest of the low, trash that gets stuck to the bottom of your foot. Unfortunately, he's already coming at him again, this time with a fist aimed at his stomach. ]
no subject
[ He was scum too once it's ok. There's not much of the experience he can easily recall these days, but it's clear enough that this boy is aiming to kill. It's logical this late at night; if knocking him down with a head injury won't do, then he'll have to be incapacitated first. A good pick or punch to the stomach would leave him winded, a better one would be worse.
So he makes to dodge, at the very least to avoid letting it connect square in the middle, and swings a fist at his jaw. ]
no subject
[ He's not listening, and now he's talking with a fist against the side of his face, as if it's not bothering him at all.
It does bother him, though, because it hurts and it ignites a very small spark inside of him. Ah, that bad habit... or so he's told. It hurts and he can feel something creak ominously, telling him to maybe not take too many more punches to the head. ]
I guess we'll see, huh?
[ It doesn't matter that he dodged his punch—or rather, that just makes it more exciting, and that spark is dangerously close to roaring to life—because now he's batting his arm away and going for his legs. Sorry old man, he wants to drop you on your ass. ]
no subject
[ haha what the fuck is this kid ok
Really though, that's concerning. It must have hurt, he's sure that must have done something - he must have made him bite his tongue at least. It gives just the way skin and bone are meant to when you punch someone in the jaw, so what's up with that reaction?
Slowly, he dislodges his fist and shakes it out, perplexed - keeping his eyes on him firmly, but. What just happened? ]
You don't have to do this. We all agreed - let's just head back together and ta -
[ "Talk" was the word, but it gets sort of truncated at the vowel when he gasps, legs swept from under him. He's down!
And making to hurry away with hands, backwards, hoping to put just enough distance between them to have a chance of righting himself. ]
no subject
If it wasn't me, it'd just be somebody else. People are pretty bad like that. [ He's actually giving him a sad smile, because really, he does feel a little bad about killing a guy who's begging for him to reconsider, but... ] There are just some things that are a little more important than some stranger's life, right?
[ He's done stalking for the moment, and is now bringing a booted foot down on his shin. ]
no subject
Right -
[ It's sort of hissed out as the boot connects with bone. Is it broken yet? He's got no way of being certain, but it hurts about that much.
But he won't scream. If he makes enough noise to alert someone, whether he dies or not, they'll know for sure who did it, or attempted to. This is just a child. The girl before was just a child. But if they execute the wrong person again - that's a problem too, isn't it. His sympathy has him bite his tongue in order to hold back the noise, but once most of it's passed the problem still remains.
None of them should have to die, but all of them have reasons to kill. They won't be able to leave until most of them are dead. So what should they do? ]
... Right... So - that's it, huh?
no subject
[ A pause, and then his smile is disappearing, being replaced by an uncharacteristically (at least, so far, nobody here has seen this side of him just yet) distant look. ]
I'd rather you fight back, though. You were doing alright defending yourself up until now.
no subject
[ There's a pause, half considerate, half dizzy from the pain, before he adds ]
I'll let you do it after. We'll have a fight if you want to and I'll die if you win, but let's talk first. If you still want to kill me after that...
[ Of course he will. It's like he said, and he can't find anything disagreeable to it, but he can't help adding that. ]
no subject
Kamui crouches at his feet, balancing his (sore as hell) jaw on the palm of his hand. ]
Let me do it, huh? Well, go ahead. Should we talk about the weather? It's not that much different, where I'm from, apart from the lack of rain.
no subject
[ He sighs out an exhale, rolling his neck as he sits up, tentatively putting pressure on that leg - ]
So let's start with the weather. I'm not exactly unaccustomed to it myself - well, home's never as foggy as it gets here.
You mentioned your parents. Any siblings?
no subject
A weak little sister. [ He's a pretty crappy big brother, obviously. ] But if you were to think of it like characters in a book, she'd be the main heroine.
[ Gintama is so weirdly meta. ]
no subject
[ Said sort of
flatly
some of us are only children? ]
no subject
[ AGAIN. ]
We're a type of alien that likes to fight, as you can probably see.