[ he isn't sure why this matters. he isn't sure at all why he searches for reasons in his actions; he's never really and honestly put stock in these things before.
things just...happened, a sort of motor-motion tandem, working gears and detachment like clockwork. it worked well enough. besides, place where he was from barely relied on emotion, compassion. humanity.
steel, and blood and smoke. always.
and yet,
he learned to read rin in the language of opposites and heine finds he is unsure why he bothers. the kid is annoying, loud, and shoves his stupid face into heine's business way too often. by all accounts, from the shit he's pulled, heine should have killed him twice by now. or the dog should have.
and yet,
maybe putting each other through different hells was an affirmation to heine. bullets and bruises and injury was a familiar language, and rin was catching on quick with sportsman-like speed. it would be a shame if that had something to do with it (you've been hanging around heine too long), but there was no denying what world this was.
he's dropped himself into the chair before folding a leg underneath himself (shoes on, of course), and props his jaw up onto a bony hand. the noise he makes is disgruntled at best, something akin to indignation. ] Ugh - I was supposed to get you a gift?
[ what the fuck don't be this way this concept is barely known to him.
the date was offhandedly mentioned by rin's sister. or was it one of the other two? in the long run, it doesn't matter. and when rin had been barely active all day today, albino freak here decided to take a walk and see what was what. ] - What're you gonna do, grandpa? Shake your fist at me?
it won't fit his willowy figure right
things just...happened, a sort of motor-motion tandem, working gears and detachment like clockwork. it worked well enough. besides, place where he was from barely relied on emotion, compassion. humanity.
steel, and blood and smoke. always.
and yet,
he learned to read rin in the language of opposites and heine finds he is unsure why he bothers. the kid is annoying, loud, and shoves his stupid face into heine's business way too often. by all accounts, from the shit he's pulled, heine should have killed him twice by now. or the dog should have.
and yet,
maybe putting each other through different hells was an affirmation to heine. bullets and bruises and injury was a familiar language, and rin was catching on quick with sportsman-like speed. it would be a shame if that had something to do with it (you've been hanging around heine too long), but there was no denying what world this was.
he's dropped himself into the chair before folding a leg underneath himself (shoes on, of course), and props his jaw up onto a bony hand. the noise he makes is disgruntled at best, something akin to indignation. ] Ugh - I was supposed to get you a gift?
[ what the fuck don't be this way this concept is barely known to him.
the date was offhandedly mentioned by rin's sister. or was it one of the other two? in the long run, it doesn't matter. and when rin had been barely active all day today, albino freak here decided to take a walk and see what was what. ] - What're you gonna do, grandpa? Shake your fist at me?