[Open] Long and Weary

[distant_one]

Who: D, his Left Hand, and anyone
What: D arrives and wanders around and behaves strangely.
When: Early May
Where: Various places.

Content Warnings:: None in the prompts, will be added to subject lines as needed

Just after arriving in town for the first time

Outwardly, D was perfectly calm and collected despite having just washed up on a beach as a squid. He was dressed in his familiar hat and heavily patched great coat, his sword on his back and his blue pendant around his neck.

There was no sign that this was anything other than an ordinary day for him, except perhaps the fact that he was carrying a saddle and attached saddlebag over his left shoulder. That, and every now and then the fingers of his left hand would twitch.

While looking for somewhere suitable to store the saddle for which he had no use and to claim as a place to stay, a strange noise came from the vicinity of his hand and the saddle slipped from his grasp. Rather than immediately pick up the saddle, D flexed the ungloved fingers of his left hand and squeezed his hand into a tight fist a few times.

Watching the rain around town, a couple days after arriving

D had been around the city, but mostly kept out of plain view, visible often only as a dark figure blending in with the shadow of whatever was near. He wore his normal dark clothing, but now the robe he'd been given when he arrived was worn outside the heavy coat, and still wearing a glove only on his right hand.

Reassured of his self control, D ventured into areas with more people. He found unobtrusive places around more populated areas of the city to stand and observe, seemingly paying attention only to the rain. None of myriad of insects present throughout the city would come within a few feet of him. When they drew too close, they would suddenly decide to fly very quickly away from him.

When the rain was finished, D would move on to find another location to observe, but his steps caused not even a slight ripple when he stepped on a puddle.

Practice makes perfect, in a deserted, previously quiet alleyway

Even the slight changes in this existence were enough to have D test out his abilities and test the thousands of years he'd honed his skill and precision. D was still cautious and alert; he wasn't going to practice while anyone was watching. His senses were acute enough to catch the faint sounds of footsteps, or breathing, or even a heartbeat approaching over the soft sound of fracturing stone that echoed through the evening air.

D wasn't going to let people stop, but he also wasn't going to flee, either. Anyone who followed the sound of stone breaking, sharp but not too loud, would find D still in the location he'd chosen for his practice. He was calm and unmoving, his attention on a large block of quarried stone which had once likely been part of a larger structure.

The surface of the stone was no longer even, rough-hewn wooden needles protruding at various lengths and with cracks radiating out. They formed a grid pattern so unnervingly precise from center to center of each needle that they could have been used for measurement.

Comments

practice makes perfect

[fogsong]

Sharon has always been more curious than wise. When she hears the sharp sound of cracking stone, she listens from a distance for a long moment, straining her ears to better hear it over the sounds of life in Trench. There were a thousand and one different things it could be, from monsters to people, but Sharon tires quickly of trying to guess and, instead, starts to follow the sound.

When it stops as she gets closer, a part of her almost writes it off but her curiosity gets the better of her.

She rounds a corner quickly and then comes to a sudden halt when her blue eyes land on D. Her gaze is stuck on him for a breath. She's never seen a man like him before; she'd almost say he was hauntingly beautiful. She rips her eyes away, a flush upon her pale cheeks, and turns her attention to the stone and the needles that pierce it.

"Holy shit," She moves closer to get a better look, almost impressed, "Was that you that I heard? Did you do this?"

[distant_one]

D remained still as the young woman caught sight of him, and said nothing as she moved over to the chunk of stone D was using as target practice.

"Yes." There were always those whose curiosity or confidence overrode caution, and led them to explore the unknown. "People keep talking about how dangerous life is here."

D seemed neither pleased nor displeased with his efforts, or how impressive Sharon found them.

"Did the noise bother you?" D asked, voice still without any emotion and as if his only concern about what he was doing was whether or not he was bothering anyone. Despite his frequent lack of manners and continual disregard of social niceties and customs, he did know how to be polite.

[fogsong]

"Then this was practice, huh?" A rhetorical observation. The dangers of Trench should never be underestimated and Sharon seemed to understand now what he must have been doing. Given all the damage done to the stone and the precision involved, she doubted he needed to practice much. Better safe than sorry, though.

At the question, she gave a brief shake of her head, finally tearing her gaze from the punctured stone, "What? No, not really. I was just.... you know, curious." She laughed, more at herself than the question. "I really should know better, though."

"Between the beasts and the insanity every month brings, it really is dangerous around here. Not that you don't eventually get used to it." She crossed her arms and shrugged, tone conversational. "It's in everyone's best interest to not get too curious about weird shit, especially if you're not one of the Hunters."

"Though, I've got a feeling you might be able to handle yourself."

[distant_one]

Explaining that he was refamiliarizing himself with his slightly now unfamiliar body was more than D cared to do, so he didn't bother to correct her assumption.

"People can get used to almost anything after long enough," D observed. Those who survived would get used to it at lease.

"I've also heard there are dangers that can only be overcome by blood enhanced weapons, and mine isn't." If D had any concerns about the lack, they weren't apparent on his face or in his even tone of voice.

"Is this place very different from the one you're from?" He was still trying to piece together the puzzle that was this reality. Extradimensional creatures weren't unknown in his own reality, but anything of this scope was unheard of.

Then again, there were many who underestimated the depths of terror his own world held. Perhaps this was something that had once been known and faded into myth. So much information was lost first in the fall of the humanity's rule and then when the Nobility were overthrown.

[fogsong]

"If you're a Coldblood or Vileblood, you could enhance your weapon yourself. It just takes a little to be smeared on it." There weren't any rituals involved or prayers to be said, just a knife and a little blood.

The moment he asked his question, Sharon appeared to close up a little. It stung to think of home and it felt impossible to put into words just how different the two worlds were. Silent Hill had similarities to Trench, if just in its existence of monsters and the way the town felt trapped, but that's where the similarities ended. "My world and this one, they're like night and day. Most people don't have magic, there aren't Beasts or magical bloodtypes. It'd be easier to talk about what was the same than what was different."

And she didn't want to talk about what was the same.

In an attempt to redirect the conversation, she rounded back to his statement on blood enhancements. "If you want, I could enhance your weapon for you?"

Normally, she'd never make such an offer. She's only worked with her blood a handful of times, mostly to test how her blood power manifests itself, but she's been feeling more confident as of late. And if what she can do can help, then why shouldn't she offer? "I'm a Coldblood and my power is fire-based. My blood would make your weapon burn anything you attacked."

She knew some Coldbloods that could electrify and others that could freeze and there were many days she wished she was one of those. Fire, though, was a part of her and had been since the burning. She would never be able to get away from it. One day, she'll get to the point where she might be able to embrace it.

Watching Around Town

[no_reload]

Reaper was slowly venturing out from under the care of Darth Maul into the city, though the insects were something. He was back to his own observation from the shadows, and the rain meant that he had to actually put effort into remaining obscure rather than relying on any of his powers. He thankfully was back into his normal garb of thick trench coat and armour with skull mask adorned to cover his features.

It wasn't odd to find other beings lurking in the shadows, given how many that Trench actually had. However, most beings were there for nefarious purposes or illegal trade, not usually general recon of the population. So him finding another being just watching piqued his interest. That hat didn't hurt either.

"What are you doing in my prime real estate?" His voice was a growl thanks to scarring, but he eased out of a shadow as the newcomer arrived in a new spot.

[distant_one]

D was untouched by the insects as he arrived. In fact, none of them would come within three feet of him, leaving D unbothered by the ever-present pests. He turned his head slowly towards the growling voice, and gave no sign if he was surprised to find this shadow occupied or not.

His eyes lingered on the mask, the stylistic skull design was longer than but very similar to the small decoration adorning the cross piece of D's sword.

"It looked like a good place to wait out the rain. Was I mistaken?" D's voice was smooth and calm, lacking in any emotion. He didn't reach for the slightly curving longsword on his back or any other weaponry.

[no_reload]

Reaper still wasn't in much condition to be picking active fights thus far, since it would force him to rely on his powers and that... could be problematic. So he would keep things casual, use intimidation if necessary, but mostly he was curious of this odd pale male with the big hat and sword.

"Inside would be a better place to wait out rain," he pointed out dryly. "Are you allergic to small confined spaces with limited escape routes?" Maybe this guy needed to be invited inside or something. An amusing thought on his part.

"Or perhaps you like the wide open spaces nearby to pull a sword?"

[distant_one]

The stranger's remarks were a little on point at least in so far as D was particular about keeping his sword hand free, if not necessarily avoiding small spaces.

"Watching the rain from inside is less pleasant. You seem like you might be suffering from an allergy or two of your own?" There was just a faint hint of humor in D's words. He'd certainly faced his fair share of men who thought to wear skulls, and had been far more committed to the entire skeleton aesthetic.

Would the sun bother this man as it would a Dhampir? Or was the head to toe covering due to some other preference. It wasn't something he ever saw without a reason, and rarely was it a simple matter of intimidation or anonymity.

[no_reload]

"Hardly. I was just recently inside, but I needed some fresh air and found a giant hat in one of my favourite lurking spots," he said airily, waving a clawed hand in the air to dismiss the claim he had any allergy. He had noted the spurs as well, but there didn't seem to be a mount to go with it so far. That wasn't unusual in Trench.

"Are you recently tossed from the sea? I believe I would recall such a dramatic looking outfit if it's been around," he said. And he would. Dramatic outfits were something he had to assess as good, bad, or modify.

Arriving

[swellter]

Todoroki finds himself leaving an abandoned residence when he spots a stranger walking by with a saddle hefted over his shoulder. An odd sight, but he's seen odder. Closing the gate to the dilapidated place, he heads down the same street on his way to his next stop when he notices the man drop the saddle a bit ahead. When he doesn't immediately reach for it, Todoroki takes the opportunity to reach for the saddle and offer it back to him, oblivious of any strange happenstance.

"This is yours."

Bisected down the center, he makes an odd sight with his matched eyes (grey and teal) and bicolored hair (white and red).

[distant_one]

D spent a just a moment looking at the visually unusual young man in front of him. He relaxed his left hand and, apparently assured that it was going to behave, took back the saddle held out for him.

"Thank you."

Stopping to help a stranger was an uncommon enough action that D felt it was worth showing at least some sign he understood basic manners and courtesy.

[swellter]

No audible response only a short nod to acknowledge the courtesy.

"You should be careful around this area. The Hunters reported a possible corruption case here two days ago."

Hence why he came out of the abandoned home just now. He was going through every abandoned residence to make sure there was no one inside who needed help before their corruption levels got worse and they needed a full cleansing.

[distant_one]

D was always careful, it was part of the reason he was carrying his saddle in his left hand despite the problems he was having with that hand. It left his right free to draw his sword at any moment.

"I just came from the sea, so I don't know much about that yet." He'd gotten the basic explanations, but D had been more interested in retreating to a safe location to hide and reacquaint himself with this form than standing around and asking questions. Which was why he started walking again. Walking and talking was preferable to just standing out in the open.

[swellter]

Ah. That's why he doesn't recognize him. He knows most Sleepers after being here for so long. He can often pinpoint the new arrivals. He does stand out a bit. He's reminded of a Pro-Hero. Maybe that's why he finds his presence so unobtrusive.

"It takes some time to settle in." He knows from experience. It took him a full month to even start asking for more detailed explanations about Trench. "If you have any questions, I can try to answer them."

Practice Makes Perfect

[survivalthroughhate]

What D would hear coming near to him wasn't the familiar singular heartbeat of a human being. No, there was Thump Thump! from two hearts that beat in an alternate rhythm. Maul, nosy as ever, was off in the city looking for something to get into or someone to talk to.

When he came across D and the block of stone, he looked from the man to the giant rock and back again. He wasn't sure if he had something to do with all those needles sticking out or if he'd just come across it that way. It was a little hard to focus on that stone given how markedly beautiful the young man before him was. Maul didn't often feel attracted to people on a physical level, that was more driven by their personalities, but D was very good-looking with his sharp features and pale, alabaster-like skin. It was so pale, as white as that of a Nightsister's would have been, that Maul figured there was no way this person was human. That was fine by him. Maul preferred the company of non-humans for the most part.

Finally, he stopped staring and gestured to the stone. "Looks like an art project," Maul observed.

[distant_one]

Two hearts, but only one set of footsteps and breathing to go with it. D inclined his head slightly as he observed the stranger. Largely human in shape, but D doubted there was any common ancestry there.

Not, apparently, far enough removed from humanity to be unaffected by D's appearance. The comment about his target appearing to be an art project drew an amused snort from D's direction. Or more specifically from the direction of his left hand.

"You can have it, if it suits your taste in art," D offered, his voice as perfectly smooth as his skin and as devoid of emotion as the chunk of stone in question.

D had seen many great works of art, and seen many more masterpieces later destroyed or defaced over the centuries. He wouldn't count his target practice as artistic, but he could see how others might. Particularly someone marked with such painstaking symmetry, too much to be natural.

The loss of even a large portion of his large, rough hewn wooden needles was of no consequence. He could always make more.

[survivalthroughhate]

The voice finally snapped Maul back fully to reality and out of whatever daze he'd been put into by D's appearance. He wasn't sure he liked that. Being off-guard in a place like this could be a fatal mistake if it was done at the wrong moment.

"Hmmmm, it certainly would go with what is in the front yard already." Maul mused, more to himself than to D. There were a few large, ancient trees, his ship, and Slicer. Granted, Slicer was one of his pets and not an inanimate object, but the warg slept outside and often resembled a fuzzy boulder once he'd curled up to go to sleep at night.

"I have not seen you before. You're a new Sleeper." It was not a question. D, despite his otherworldly appearance, had that same 'otherness' quality that all Sleepers had and that they could sense about one another.

[distant_one]

"I am. You're a Sleeper as well." Beyond that, D wasn't certain what the stranger was.

Not a demon or any of the more unusual beings D had encountered in his past. The Trench was full of new beings and experiences.

"Is the world you remember from before similar to this one?" Despite the prying nature of his question, there was only a hint of disinterested curiosity about him. D had the vague beginnings of an idea. Not even enough yet to be a hunch or a theory. Nothing worth any investment, so his demeanor and presence remained unnervingly tranquil.

[survivalthroughhate]

"Yes. I am Darth Maul," he says introducing himself. The way he says his name doesn't make it clear if that's a first and last name or a title and a given name.

"Not at all." Maul shakes his head. "It was a galaxy full of planets, each one more different from the last. Billions upon billions of systems that could have planets within them and millions of sentient species. Compared to that, this is all so very....small."

practice makes perfect

[warminded]

There's neither heartbeat nor breathing to be heard on Felwinter's approach. Only booted footsteps, and the near-silent murmur of his infinitely complex inner mechanisms. He follows the sound of cracking stone to its source, curious but cautious, and pauses at the entrance to the alleyway as it suddenly falls silent.

This man is, Fel assumes, not particularly keen on the idea of having an audience. Which is a shame, as he would have quite liked to see him in action; even more so when his eyes alight on those odd wooden needles embedded in the stone block with such frightening accuracy. What a strange choice of weapon.

The silence drags on a beat too long before Felwinter realises that he should say something.

"Do you often practise your craft in dark alleyways?" is what he settles on, his voice as hollow and unemotional as ever. And, with a nod in the direction of the stone block: "I assume that was your doing."

[distant_one]

Footsteps with a lack of breathing and heartbeat usually means only one thing. It's only the quiet noise of technology that indicates this isn't one of the undead.

A heavily modified cyborg? They stare at one another for a long moment before the stranger finally speaks, and D doesn't glance at the block before he responds.

"Today's an exception." D's voice is smooth and quiet and equally emotionless. The second question goes ignored completely.

[warminded]

Felwinter isn't entirely certain whether that response is serious or sarcastic. So he stares a moment longer, studying the man with an intense curiosity which is masked by the impassive grill of his helmet. It's unusual to meet someone who comes across as cold and distant as he tends to. Especially one who (he assumes) is human. He's not sure what to make of it.

"I hadn't meant to interrupt," he ventures finally. "I was hoping to see you in action. Your precision is... impressive."

[distant_one]

"The results aren't enough?" With those words D sounded much more like the teenager he appeared to be than he usually did, though there was still very little in the way of emotion in his tone.

D pulled another wooden needle, almost a foot long, from one of the deep pockets of his long coat. He didn't throw it, merely held it lightly between his fingers as he continued to speak.

"If you want me to show you, you should share something, too."

[warminded]

"It's good to know what I have to work with," he says with a tilt of his head. Or what he has to work against, as the case may be. It's difficult to tell which way this one will go.

But what might he show in return? He has his Light, of course, but the middle of town is not the place to start flaunting that around. Especially in such an enclosed space. He considers for a moment, and then simply rests a hand on the butt of the shotgun hanging at his hip.

"My weaponry is much more conventional. Hardly interesting, I'm afraid."

It's absolutely a cop-out, but perhaps it will be enough.