I went down to the beach and saw Kiki

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

WHO: fuelblade, the people from here and MANY MORE!
WHERE: WHEREVER, HE'S ON THE MOVE.
WHEN: A while ago! Yup!
WARNINGS: Nero's colorful mouth? Yeah, maybe.
SUMMARY: Nero is on the process of settling in the MAC, but seeing it's him, he's still very much restless. He still isn't taking the whole "being brought to the City without his girlfriend" well. This means he needs interaction!
FORMAT: Still to be decided?


[The door creaks as it opens and Nero strangely gets a sense of deja vu. Not about the sight in itself, but in the sense that he found himself stepping into a place that would signify a roof over his head, but one that he'd rather live without. Still, survival instincts' force here is strong with this one, so of course he would try out a place that was the most similar to a safe haven in a hostile place.

Not that he would like it, though.

So he stays in the hallway, looking absently at the apartment before him, and he waves his hand dismissively with a sigh.

Maybe he should come back later and cruise around the city some more.]

Comments

[trueltning_fury]

[don't mind the big guy clad in leather carrying a sword coming up the hallway. Except for the fact you're in his way, and he sees your sword, Nero]

Hm.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[Although never shy around what was competition in the midst of demon hunters and Order soldiers, Nero makes his check up on the approaching guy quick and effective. Subtle, but not enough to be dissimulated, once coming from someone who doesn't know subtlety itself that much.

The Hm, though, makes him look again. And he notices the lingering eyes on the sword on his back.]

Let me guess. "There goes the neighborhood"?

[trueltning_fury]

Not exactly. [he pauses, ready to actually hold a conversation now that he's been addressed] Just taking note of your weapon. I make a point of meeting any swordsman who come through this world.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

Oh, huh. [A thumb comes up to brush the side of Nero's nose, and he tilts his head] And why's that?

[trueltning_fury]

One can never have too many sparring partners.

[a hand comes to rest on Wild Geese's hilt, nonthreateningly] ...assuming you know how to use it.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[And there he finally takes notice of that sword, taking his time to look at it, and by force of habit, sarcasm slips into his words] Yeah, I dunno, I made the Red Queen. I wouldn't really know how to use it.

[trueltning_fury]

[droll look right back] I don't know many smiths who also know how to use their weapons.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[A snort] And do the swordsmen at least know their blades?

[trueltning_fury]

Naturally. This is no toy.

[manly tip of the chin] You must be new here.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[And a manly cross of his arms] What gives it away, the "I don't want to be here" frown or the white hair?

[trueltning_fury]

The blade, actually. [with a tilt of his head] It's not the sort of thing people carry here, unless they've been brought in from another world. You'll get a lot of looks for having it on you in public.

[note, that doesn't stop him. He's still armed and armored, after all]

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

If that's a warning, it's coming kind of late, pal. Someone asked where the "con" was the first time I got out on the street.

[A jerk of his chin.] You don't seem bothered, though.

[trueltning_fury]

I don't care what people think. [all gruff n' stuff] I have no intention of assimilating into this world no matter how long it keeps me.

[the sliiiightest quirk of humor, a raised eyebrow] ...and there's a tavern down the street that doesn't mind me coming in armed.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[he does not mind that kind of thinking at all. On the contrary] A tavern? And what, they make trigger-happy anonymous reunions or what?

[trueltning_fury]

[sniff] No. They serve decent beer and no one asks questions.

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

Huh. A place like that should get its name around, though. Sure it's not too crowded?

[trueltning_fury]

Not usually. It seems to attract mainly local working men.

[this is Geddoe: making sure fellow mercs who like to drink find the best bars always]

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

And no one asks questions about your weapons?

[trueltning_fury]

Not anymore. I got the sense the owner got used to our kind pretty quickly, and didn't care as long as I paid for my drinks.

[the tiiiiiniest smirk] ...though, he warmed up considerably after I once protected his bar from looters. It's about ten minutes from here, straight up and to the left. [have a name that I never bothered to think up]

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[He nods.] Thanks. I'll take a look at that place soon enough, I guess. [A glance at his newfound apartment] Not sure I still want to move in there, yet.

[trueltning_fury]

It's not a terrible room. [he turns a shoulder as if to wander off] Well-maintained enough, if a bit spartan. No rats that I've seen.

[princesscliche.livejournal.com]

[Giselle is in her favorite store. but really, whatever store she happened to be in that contained either food, clothes or animals was her favorite when she was there. so this is a temporary favorite. and a good one: a nice, modest pet store.

it seems those confused and slightly agitated owners had taken her up on that advice to double up on blankets for the puppies, because their yapping was much happier when she showed up for the fourth time. it took all her self-control to not just take them all; that would be bad. for one, Shockwave would probably be alarmed, and another, the panther...

so she exits with a sigh, squinting and smiling up at the sliver of blue sky zigzagging between tall buildings and telephone wires. it's such a nice day...!]

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[The exit of his apartment never felt as much as a love/hate relationship as it did now for Nero. He did want to get out of this official-and-newly-appointed-goody-ass apartment of his, but when he stepped out of the building and saw not a castle town, full of traditions and somewhat quiet folk, but the low smell of exhaust pipes and the constant buzz of a city.

It was more frustrating than relieving.

He walks around, glares at the thug-looking guy that glares at his sword and hair [first the second, then the first] and wonders vaguely what this guy would say to his revolver by his thigh. The guy wasn't kidding...

And to make things worse, he spots a mesh of red hair in the patch of sun that slips through the buildings' silhouettes, and looks at it so very absently. And it's then that nostalgia adds up to his frustration.]

[princesscliche.livejournal.com]

[Giselle doesn't go with the flow so much as navigate the stream of people moving with and against her, flashing a friendly smile here, nodding her head hello there, clasping her hands behind her back when swinging them gaily becomes too difficult in the crowd.

mid-step, sunlight glares off the metal and into her eyes, causing her to flinch, bringing a hand to her face. stopped, she ducks her head and squints, not really sure, exactly, what she's looking for...]

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[He notices the flash of light across her eyes and looks behind him to the sword on his back, chrome flaring and reflecting the sunlight. He shifts his weight, changing the angle.]

Yeah. Sorry about that.

[princesscliche.livejournal.com]

[oh! she blinks, getting her focus back. she does a little shuffle, jostled by a passer-by, before seeing the person with all that shiny.

her head tilts, eyes getting a little big. white hair, and swords!] Oh, my...

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[That kind of surprise, the wide eyes and the words, always kind of got to him. He'd rather get a weirded out glare or some sort of snap at him. He knew what to do then.

Now the only thing he felt the urge to do was to scratch his nose. Which he did.] Careful out here, it looks like rush hour or something.

[princesscliche.livejournal.com]

[she spaces out right past that remark, inching over into that personal space bubble, standing on tip-toe to confirm that sword thing she's certain of...

awe:] Oh...Are you a knight?

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[He kind of steps back, moves his body a little to make his right arm slip away from view - force of habit, more than anything else - and earning a Hey, watch where you're going from someone passing by.

He snorts. He had been a Knight of the Order, even if he never really agreed with the whole "Holy Knight" title. His first instinct is to say no, but for some reason, he just replies a little snidely]

Do I look like one?

[princesscliche.livejournal.com]

Oh, well...[she looks down at his feet a moment, mouth pressed into a line. her head tilts a little when she looks back up, offering a sheepish smile and a shrug.] I, I don't really know! Perhaps not like the ones in the stories...but there's a whole lot here that's not in stories!

But I thought...[she glances at the sword again.] Well, I know all knights have swords...

[fuelblade.livejournal.com]

[A little sigh, and Nero is already chastising himself - with a very feminine voice in his mind that resembles the one of another redhead - about him snapping at someone he barely knows, especially one who seems as candid as she is.

... Stories. His whole education revolved around stories.]

[But he snorts, and shrugs, rubbing his nose with his thumb a little in a sheepish way.] All Knights have swords, but not everyone with a sword is a knight, right?