[ ❀ 020 ; video ]

[cicumae]

[ click. the video feed: a shaky view of the ground as the communicator's handled with one hand. boots clattering across a stained floor, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dragged along the floor. the camera flickers up for a moment long enough to flash upon a doorknob -- then there's the click-swish of the door being shoved open

Comments

[video/action]

[cachaemic]

[Ganta is only half-conscious when he hits the ground, and is still disoriented as he tries to find his feet again. He covers his face and winces at the pain in his chest that reawakens as he moves. Something else hurts and he pulls his hand away and stares at the swollen wrist, but it's only after he smells the old scent of blood that he remembers what happened to him. Finally, he looks around the room and his heart freezes when he sees the figure seated close by.]

...Nagi-san.

[He balls a fist, but he's still being indecisive. They're not alone and he can barely think past the pounding in his head. But he stands back up. Takes a step towards him.]

Are you...?

[action]

[thanatolatry]

[ Looked like the kid had enough -- it was really too fucking bad, really. The monk kinda hoped that Owl could finish his job but with the bruises and blood that splattered on the ground so prettily, yeah, Genkaku was satisfied enough with Owl’s performance of the whole gig. And it wasn’t like Genkaku was worried for the kid -- mercy and all that? Hah. -- but as long as the kid was still beating and breathing, then that should’ve been good enough for the guy who planned on ruining their concert.

A low hiss and the monk leered over Ganta, the sole of his shoe nudging at the bag of fleshy shit just below him before he talked rather lowly to Nagi, lips pull back and foulness left his mouth with a deep barely-audible chuckle. ]

Don’t worry 'bout it, Owl. Bet you’d get loads of opportunity to carry through your salvation. Guess this fly ain’t worth it, yet.

[ The cruelty of his words curled around a loose dry tongue and he then looked down at Ganta. ]Looks like these fuckers are pretty damn choosey. Should thank me for being pretty

[action]

[cicumae]

[ once more slumped against the wall, nagi only watched blankly as the events continued to unfold by the doorway. and though he watched them all, blinkingly slowly, he actually processed very little of it -- because very little of it mattered. some distant part of him was vaguely disappointed that he'd been limited to such a small frame of time to vent his anger -- but that, too, didn't matter much, in the end

[action]

[cachaemic]

[Being around the Undertaker filled him with a paralyzing dread, like he was just waiting around for something to kill him, the same way he always felt back in DW. This place wasn't so different, was it? Like Senji said.

Ganta wished he could have stayed out of focus for a minute longer, and promptly felt guilty for it. He came to save Nagi and only managed to get kicked around like a joke and he couldn't even... But Genkaku was still talking, and he hung on his words as he tried to keep himself grounded. Then he mentioned someone being choosy, and stared back in confusion.]

Huh?

[Someone was looking for him? Why did they want him? Senji knew what he was doing, and Shiro wouldn't, would she? Wincing from the sharp kick to his side, he expected him to break his neck or even rip his head off when he laid his hand on him. He was nauseous. And when Genkaku leaned over him, he really thought he would be sick. What I wanted.He stayed as still as he could manage, but fear and adrenaline made it impossible for him to stop

[action]

[thanatolatry]

[ Genkaku thought that this kind must’ve been really fucking lucky. Sure as hell must’ve been a special little shit if the leader of this cesspool thought it was worth it to have some bitch take the monk’s prized Deadman to give to his god.

The kid was slung over his shoulder in the same fashion as one would do with their instrument -- Genkaku wasn’t going to pay any attention to this little shit, not when Genkaku walked out of the makeshift torture chamber and nudged the door shut roughly, and not when he walked outside onto the glassy surface, but he let out a grunt after prolonged silence. ]

Huh? -- Guess you don’t know, yeah?

[ The words were murmured, almost inaudible past the sound emitted from Genkaku dropping Ganta on the glass ground in a sluggish careless matter, in which the monk ran a hand through his hair as a useless gesture before rolling the small limp body onto his stomach, and Genkaku crouched down. ]

Looks like some fuckin' shithead's pretty damn sweet on you.

[ A low disgusting laugh had slurred pasted toxin