soul_campaign | .001 [voice]

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.001 [voice]

[ private ]

[ The recording starts up with a bit of rustling and an exhale, then a long silence. Finally... ]

A mortal weapon. [ A faint laugh. ] Can't figure out whether I'm surprised or not.

[ A deep breath, as though stealing himself. ] Right. To do. Find out more about Shibusen and these witches, the whole Weapon/Meister bit. Write a report once I can hold a damn pen. ... Figure out what kind of Weapon I am I suppose. [ Sighs. ] Damn it.

[ public ]

[ There's rustling as he switches the settings to public, his tone relaxed. ]

Anyone care to point a fella in the direction of a decent cup a' joe?

[ He's really hoping Bakura was kidding about that Deathbucks thing. Worse comes to worse, it'll be a start. ]

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It's disappointing.

[Having to do anything is completely alien to him, after all. It's more the fact he views his transformation as so disappointing. Maybe it's ingrained in him from when he was human, when he had to abide by rules and not make them, when he was powerless - that he didn't want to disappoint this man. Maybe it's still there, somewhere. Maybe that's why what Hanekoma did in Shibuya bothered him so much. It meant he was a disappointment, right?

He pushes that thought from his head however and waits until Hanekoma moves.]

It's very simple. To change, you just pretend you're raising your vibe and -

[The same bright light. And Hanekoma is standing there, a shining, glass-feathered spear in hand, one of the bladed feathers not so far from his face. Just far enough away so he's not given an impromptu facelift. Such was the reason for the arm's length request. There's a voice, Joshua's voice, in Hanekoma's head. But despite their bond, Hanekoma isn't a meister. It's faint. Very faint. ]

Don't drop me.

[ He squints a the bright light, and next thing he knows there's sharp feathers next to his face. He takes a closer look, running his fingers over the side of the feathers. And he smirks. ]

But short for a spear, ain't you?

[ He can hear Joshua, but just barely. He tosses the boy-spear easily to his other hand, giving it a twirl. ]

Light, though. Good for close combat. You manage to make a Pact with a partner?

You're usually the short one.

[When he's in his real form, anyway.]

I suppose it's something to do with this body being reused here. I don't exactly know.

[He turns silent for a moment, even with the fact he's being twirled like a baton and Hanekoma is some (very) deranged cheerleader. Finally...]

Yes. Neku. He was next door. Same timeline. ...I thought I was finally rid of him. Turns out he returned to Shibuya's RG though, about a week before you came through.

[A small pause. He's pleased Neku got that happy ending with all of his friends. Just a little jealous. And well aware anyone else managing him will be next to impossible. He's fully aware he's dead in the water without him.]

Edited 2013-04-20 02:17 (UTC)

[ He graciously ignores the short comment, adjusting his grip and testing Joshua's weight. It's more than weird to think that about a person, and the fact that he's literally holding Joshua just makes it all the more bizarre.

He's got Joshua upside down, inspecting the spikes on the end when the words register. Neku was here? And he was Joshua's Meister...

With a soft sigh, he returns the other upright. ]

I'm sorry, Boss.

[ Commiseration first. Then wondering how the hell Neku managed to get out. ]

No need. Since he wasn't exactly a Proxy, he wasn't important here. Just useful. I don't want to think about what will happen if another him is taken from the middle of that Game. What happens here might affect another version of him's stability.

[As practical as ever, of course.]

On the note of important people, if you're finished, what can you do? Are you a Meister?

[There might be way more hope in that question than what he intended to express.]

[ He arches his eyebrows when Joshua brushes off Neku's disappearance, but doesn't call him out on it. Not when he hears the next question. Shakes his head and stabilizes Joshua against the floor, allowing the other to transform back. ]

Nope. Weapon. Not sure what kind yet, though.

[Perhaps a wise move. The brushoff is partially untruth, but the remark about the consequences of another version instead holds weight. He indeed transforms back, brushing some stray hair from his face.]

...Oh.

[And he tries so very hard to make that 'Oh' not sound so acidic.]

Show me? I want to see.

[ He steps away when Joshua transforms back, a small, apologetic smile on his face. ]

Sure, but you're gonna have to walk me through this process. Like raisin' your vibe, you said, right?

[ Well, at least he'll get to continue to exercise that muscle. ]

This place isn't exactly making it easy.

[That's all he says on the matter. It's done; just another disappointment. He turns to the situation at hand.]

Yes, though nothing spectacular. I'd say I raised mine... A little above RG level. So if I were you, with yours, [And a hell of a vibe that was.] try RG exactly. Or a little lower, if you can.

If you're not coming up with a weird feeling of your organs not working any more and your skin getting cold, then adjust it upward, in small amounts until you're golden. Hang onto that frequency. It'll grow as you change.

[If this could be classed as gold. He takes a few steps forward - extending a hand just shy of him to catch him when it happens.]

...Just don't turn into something like a tank. Or a nuclear warhead. Seriously.

[ His grin is devilish. ]

No promises, Boss.

[ He's already adjusting his vibe. It's not... exactly the same, but close enough where metaphorical muscle memory is kicking in. He just has to find the right spot -- There!

With a flash, the rifle flips into Joshua's hand. ]

... Nice catch.

Exciting!

[For the first time in a long time, he smirks in the same manner. Yes, it might be the promise of a pretty grisly death. But Hanekoma's well aware of what exactly is wrong with him, and he doesn't need to pretend. He examines the rifle carefully, narrowing his eyes slightly. ]

...You're an Arisaka, the type which was used in world war 2. Before they went cheap too. Classy. Type... 97, I think. Custom design.

[Of course he's impressed. He says nothing of the Gatito logo, or the feather charm - merely smiling. And of course, the gun is magnificent. He checks the sights, emitting a small, impressed sound.]

Bolt action, too. Wow. Very impressive.

[ Damn, this is a bizarre sensation. He doesn't feel any less alive -- which is not exactly a good thing considering the circumstances -- but he definitely feels like an essentially inanimate object. ]

You know me, always keeping it classy.

[ Type 97... That was a sniper's rifle. As much as he didn't want to admit it, it was fitting. ]

And you didn't go for that awful woodgrain the others have. That's a plus.

[He checks the sights again. ...Yep. The real thing all right. And it's weird to see one pretty much immaculate but custom. The only ones he's seen actually from that period are relics.]

...Do you want to do something fun?

If I've got anything, it's style.

[ If he had eyebrows, they'd be raised. ]

Thought handguns were more your speed?

Beggars and choosers. Though really, they're violent little things here. The fact they've enabled a harmless, middle aged small business owner into a sniper rifle is pretty much proof of that.

[The smile doesn't leave his face. Oh no. Instead he gets to his feet, hoisting the rifle over his shoulder. And he turns, a quick glance making sure that Hanekoma's cigarette was indeed out in the tray. And he moves to the door, slipping his feet into his white boots and taking Hanekoma's along. He closes the door behind him, smile still there as he approaches the elevator.

...Screw the stairs. He gets in, selecting the roof as his destination. And trying not to laugh at the cheesy elevator music. Really trying. ]

... Usually, yeah. But it's not every day, even in Shibuya, I get to play with something like you.

[ God, this is weird. He still can't exactly explain the sensation of being a rifle.

Something occurs to him. ]

You ever fire a rifle before boss?

If I had, this wouldn't be fun. Besides that, who said anything about firing?

[A smile! And there's a bell as the elevator reaches it's floor. Unlike Japan, roofspace isn't exactly used to good purpose in Death City. There isn't a communal garden. It's simply open space. And! He sets...Mr. H up, looking through the sights again. God help anyone looking up at the apartment block from the city.

He turns the sights to the desert. Damn Mr. H, you're a good telescope.]

...Hmn. Unexpected. Can you see too?

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.001 [voice]

action.

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