.001 [voice]

[catffeine]

[ 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. ]

Comments

action.

[whitefeather]

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.

action.

[catffeine]

[ 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?

action.

[whitefeather]

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?