[ A few weeks here, and Mukuro can appreciate the chaos that swirls around him, of war and vengeance and everything that stirs the human psyche into doing such great, terrible things. Tragedies are born here, they thrive, and here, now, it looks like it will undo everything.
He keeps out of sight, away from the players of this game as he collects his information, understands the roles that each has to play. The oddness of this land doesn't bother him, and he thinks that he actually likes it. It's a good change from the mafia, and the ninjas here displayed power that intrigue him endlessly. But this evening, he's had enough of simply watching, and he slips into the darkness, allows his illusions to mask him completely.
He finds Kakashi on one of his walks, and oh, isn't this just a pleasant sort of reunion? He steps out, then, the softest sound of footsteps, of leather in movement - and his mismatched eyes are alight with amusement. ]
[ That familiar voice, lilting and soft when it shouldn't have been, never fails to fuck with him, even at his best of times.
Especially now. It's the last thing he's expecting to hear, and reflexively, his fingers spark with bright energy, blue and white electricity dripping over his palm, off his fingers, as he freezes, wrenched violently from his own thoughts, his own worries. And that's -- no. Mukuro?
He shouldn't be surprised. He really, really shouldn't be, not after everything that's happened, and Kakashi forces the electric energy from his fingers, and it dissipates as quickly as it'd appeared. One glance over his shoulder tells him that, yeah, Mukuro is definitely standing right fucking there, looking just the way he always has, all lanky slender limbs and bright, bright unsettling eyes.
The rotten bitch.
One hand moves up, and his fingers curl around his arm, his elbow, as he turns to face him. ]
[ Blithely, openly oblivious to the less than welcoming reception, he takes a few steps closer, a low 'kufufu' barely breaking the silence of the forest. The recognition is enough, and he glances over at the recently dissipated electric charge, still feeling it in the air.
The man can easily kill him if he's got a mind to, but oh, there's always that pesky question of limitations, the question of whether Kakashi really would kill him. He still looks the same, although a tad bit more burdened than he'd been back in that little hellhole, and he doesn't fault him, especially with all the things he'd just witnessed happening.
He meets his gaze, and you know, maybe he's simply a figment of his imagination. Stranger things have happened, haven't they? ]
[ He hasn't changed at all, and of course, why would he, Mukuro doesn't really have any need to change, doesn't have any actual need to grow. He's not bound by the same laws that Kakashi is, not really, he's human, but he's not. He's something that Kakashi hasn't entirely figured out yet, and he doesn't really know if he'll ever get the chance to, if he'll ever be able to pry into him far enough that he'll catch a glimpse of who ( what ) he really is.
( Everyone has their limits. Mukuro must too. )
His fingers tighten around his elbow, and he smiles, breaks Mukuro's gaze as he tips his chin skyward, staring up toward the cloudy blue skies. ]
Would you really indebt yourself to me?
[ Mukuro being a figment of his imagination isn't damn likely, not with everything he's already been through with this strange man and his even stranger abilities
( ... )
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He keeps out of sight, away from the players of this game as he collects his information, understands the roles that each has to play. The oddness of this land doesn't bother him, and he thinks that he actually likes it. It's a good change from the mafia, and the ninjas here displayed power that intrigue him endlessly. But this evening, he's had enough of simply watching, and he slips into the darkness, allows his illusions to mask him completely.
He finds Kakashi on one of his walks, and oh, isn't this just a pleasant sort of reunion? He steps out, then, the softest sound of footsteps, of leather in movement - and his mismatched eyes are alight with amusement. ]
A penny for your thoughts.
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Especially now. It's the last thing he's expecting to hear, and reflexively, his fingers spark with bright energy, blue and white electricity dripping over his palm, off his fingers, as he freezes, wrenched violently from his own thoughts, his own worries. And that's -- no. Mukuro?
He shouldn't be surprised. He really, really shouldn't be, not after everything that's happened, and Kakashi forces the electric energy from his fingers, and it dissipates as quickly as it'd appeared. One glance over his shoulder tells him that, yeah, Mukuro is definitely standing right fucking there, looking just the way he always has, all lanky slender limbs and bright, bright unsettling eyes.
The rotten bitch.
One hand moves up, and his fingers curl around his arm, his elbow, as he turns to face him. ]
You'd run out of pennies.
[ Pleasant reunion, indeed. ]
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The man can easily kill him if he's got a mind to, but oh, there's always that pesky question of limitations, the question of whether Kakashi really would kill him. He still looks the same, although a tad bit more burdened than he'd been back in that little hellhole, and he doesn't fault him, especially with all the things he'd just witnessed happening.
He meets his gaze, and you know, maybe he's simply a figment of his imagination. Stranger things have happened, haven't they? ]
You can put it on my tab, then.
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( Everyone has their limits. Mukuro must too. )
His fingers tighten around his elbow, and he smiles, breaks Mukuro's gaze as he tips his chin skyward, staring up toward the cloudy blue skies. ]
Would you really indebt yourself to me?
[ Mukuro being a figment of his imagination isn't damn likely, not with everything he's already been through with this strange man and his even stranger abilities ( ... )
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