four ✕ voice/action
How quiet it's suddenly become.
This village really is the same as it's always been. [ The light crunch crunch crunch of new snow accompanies his voice, as does the occasional snap of a brittle twig underfoot. ] I'm not particularly surprised.
To alter little, to go nowhere, it's particularly--[ But he stops there, as if that line of thought was ( Read more... )
This village really is the same as it's always been. [ The light crunch crunch crunch of new snow accompanies his voice, as does the occasional snap of a brittle twig underfoot. ] I'm not particularly surprised.
To alter little, to go nowhere, it's particularly--[ But he stops there, as if that line of thought was ( Read more... )
Comments 118
It's all that's keeping her warm; that anger. It lets her ignore that she can barely feel her feet and she has no clue where her journal is, let alone which part of the forest the Malnosso dropped her in. And everything spins with each slow, hushed breath she takes.
Just one step in front of the other, girl. Don't stop moving. Don't think if it hinders your progress. Keep going, even if it's slow. Never mind walking in a straight line is difficult enough, when she's shivering and can barely see, swaying slightly like she might topple over. Can't stop.
She almost doesn't hear Saix call her name. And she certainly doesn't halt her progress, even as she lifts her gaze off the snow white floor to look him in the eye.] ( ... )
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A kind man would offer her his steadying arm.
Saix turns, and strides beside her, matching her slow, stumbling pace. ]
You're walking in the wrong direction.
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Nearly. She's got more pride than that. She straightens again]
Tch. Aren't you a gentleman tonight. [There's no thanks laced in that statement, or warmth in the delivery. But anger is much harder to maintain when the shithead so graciously pointed her in the right direction, so she counters with blatant distrust]
What's the occasion?
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Is that occasion enough? [ His tone of voice could be described as dryer than the driest desert and his expression - smooth, blank, clam - has not changed in the slightest. His sarcasm, if he possess any at all, has yet to appear. He waits patiently as she turns and stumbles and glowers at nothing. ]
Are you injured?
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The message leaves his mouth pressed in a line, and itching to get to his feet. But he won't say a word until he's heard more.]
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[ ...practical. Both may be necessary. ]
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Right. West bank.
How is he?
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[ A pause. ] He is altered.
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she sees the filter, too. she will spend a long time hacking it. 95% is only a few percentage points higher than what she can hack easily -- but still, it takes time.
and when she gets there--
when she sees it, hears it--
the electricity doubles, triples, and she's up, abandoning her journal to pace restlessly about her room, in parts spitting angry, extremely nervous, and unhappy.
but she will do nothing until she hears word from Sanji personally, or one of the Straw Hats makes an announcement. she doesn't want Saix to know she knows this.
dammit. ]
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she has to know. ]
... someone?
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Back, are you? And as faceless as ever. Though there's a strange tone to the voice...one that hadn't been there before. ] Someone I don't clearly recall.
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In your dreams... I know what that's like. [ neutral, so neutral. ]
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Mm.
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