10 ; In which Sniper receives a new costume yet again and babbles about nothing in particular
All right! Now this is a change I can definitely be happy with. You hear that, Tree? More with the costumes, less with things that want to kill me! This is the second costume-y thing in a row that has had goggles, and I'm starting to think I ought to try and fix some up myself. I'm... not actually sure what the gears on the side do, though.
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[And with that, Sniper closes his journal, quite cheerful at the prospect of seeing his friend so soon after his return--especially meeting up with his friend to do something as entertaining as flinging various objects off the edge of the island.
There is a certain sense of liveliness to his step as he arrives at the Park that has been absent since Chivalry's disappearance. He may still have bandages scattered across his body and wound around his nose, but he feels somewhat more... alive. He doesn't go as far as to say that he enjoyed the zombie invasion - that would be downright masochistic - and he spent the majority of the time absolutely terrified out of his wits. But on the other hand, running around actually doing something was strangely exhilarating. The familiar twinges of injuries and the aching of his muscles around his shoulder blades where muscles struggled to keep up with how often he pulled the band of his staff taut feels good. In a ( ... )
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Heading out the door, he walks middling fast, mindful of his footing. It can be slippery in places... he reaches the Park pretty quickly, all things considered, but he sees Sniper still managed to beat him here. He heads over to the younger man with a slight smile, though it gets a little strained when he sees the bandages the kid is wearing.] Hey.
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Hey, Cloud! [He points a finger at his bag.] Looks like you came prepared. C'mon, let's get going.
[He starts walking in the direction of the edge and locks his fingers behind his head (though he has to spare a moment to give his neck a good crack; it feels like every part of his body got a bit jammed from sleeping curled in a ball in small corners) and grins at Cloud.] So how was the fourth floor?
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[He lets the younger man pick where they're going to do this, following after him. He flinches a little at the sudden noise, and gives the back of Sniper's head a slightly disgruntled look--do you really have to do that?--before considering the question.] It was... interesting, I guess. We were in a forest, I know that much. The woman I was stuck with didn't seem to recognize anything.
[Though the house they'd found... the pond nearby had been... familiar, a little. Or maybe he was just fooling himself, grasping for straws where in reality there was nothing.]
[[ooc: The pond was featured in his second dream :|b ]]
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A forest, huh...? That doesn't sound too bad. I hear that some people see home when they go there. I know I did. Maybe you live in a house somewhere in that forest?
[Then his expression flattens, and he turns to look at Cloud with something between exasperation and amusement written all over his face.] Or maybe you just camped out in it, knowing you.
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After a moment, his expression eases into a slight smile, and he raises an eyebrow.] We found a house, actually. Don't think it was mine, though.
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In all, he muses, Cloud's a hard sort of guy to read.] It took you long enough to move into the Spa, so probably not. If you lived on a spring or summer island, then you'd probably never have to live inside.
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[He glances ahead. Looked like they were finally getting close to the edge... good, maybe showing Sniper the wonder of what happened when you threw things over the edge would cheer him up a little.]
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[He stops there, looking puzzled.] Aah... damn, I don't remember the name. Anyway, some islands are normal and have four seasons, too. Where I'm from.
[When they near the edge, Sniper stops a couple metres away from it and tosses his bag down on the ground to stare over it.]
It would be really mean to push someone off of this, [he muses.]
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[Cloud also drops his bag to the ground, but instead of joining Sniper in staring over the edge, he crouches down and starts going through the bag--double-checking one last time that there's nothing in here he particularly cares about. He looks up at Sniper's observation, face carefully neutral.] ...yeah. It would.
[Arthur's treatment of them springs to mind... it's been a long time since he thought about that. Then again, it's been a while since he was this close to the edge of an island, too.]
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[Cloud is neutral so often that Sniper doesn't notice the lack of expression on his face. Instead, he just skitters a little closer to the edge and grips tightly onto the side in order to peer over it. He's vaguely aware that his ass is sticking in the air, and he probably looks ludicrous with his feet stuck a few inches in the dirt of the island just in case, but he finds that he doesn't really care. Curiosity whetted, he digs into his bag and produces half of a vase.]
Here, I found this at the Yard. Here goes nothing!
[And of course, as the vase makes its customary journey through the Sphere, Sniper makes a quiet sound of awe.]
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He chuckles again at Sniper's reaction to seeing the vase falling endlessly, and tosses something of his own over--a twisted bit of metal that might, at one time, have been a doorknob.
Aaaaand... there it goes again. And the vase. He grins before musing,] ...wonder how this even works, anyway.
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Bet you... five coins I can shoot the vase out of the air.
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[He doesn't mind paying if he loses, and besides... there's something else he's been meaning to give him. This is the perfect opportunity for that.]
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The air doesn't work right. It keeps on falling all... [He looks as if he's not sure how to explain it, because he's not. Though Sniper doesn't know it for sure, he has never had a formal education and therefore has difficulty extrapolating on the concepts he knows instinctively. He knows which way the wind blows at any given moment, and takes note of air pressure and debris in the air, but he doesn't know he does it. He just does. And this isn't normal.]
...stable, I guess. That's weird... but it makes it easy to shoot, at least.
[He easily shatters it in midair, though he doesn't look as pleased with himself as before, too consumed with his thoughts on why exactly things don't fall correctly here.]
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Someone once told me that once you throw something over the edge-- [His hand flicked, tossing out something else to illustrate his point. A twisted, broken carving joined the remains of the vase and the doorknob in their endless journey.] --it continues falling at the same rate of speed. Apparently nothing affects how fast it falls, or anything else about the way it falls.
[He pauses for a moment before kneeling down by his bag again, and starting to dig through it carefully. It wouldn't do to break the thing at this point.] ...I guess I owe you some money.
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