pullmeoutalive | RO > call me out; a forever open RP post, version 2

[ For his own part, the Hornfreak is looking much better. A shower and a haircut and a fresh change of clothes will do wonders for a guy- especially one that's spent his last few months imprisoned and tortured. He'd taken to wandering around the ship, too fascinated to sleep, when he found the piano.

It's been a damn long time since Midvalley has seen a piano. He couldn't help himself- he sat down and started tinkering away, improvising around snippets of an old, old song from Earth he could barely remember the name of anymore.

Even when Wolfwood wanders in, he keeps playing for a bit, before finally letting the song taper off. ]

Enjoy the show, preacher?

Eh. It was alright.

[ what a troll.

Hands in his pockets, he finally pads further into the room, his usual suit swapped for something loose-fitting to sleep in with a cardigan thrown over his shirt (because living most of his life in a desert means the ship is basically freezing). ]

Havin' a late night, Player?

[ Wow. Still no respect for the arts.

Midvalley is dressed in a similar manner- loose-fitting clothes and a sweater. He continues to idly tinker away on the piano was Wolfwood enters the room ]

I could ask you the same question. [ but he gives sort of a half-shrug as he's playing ] Too much stuff happening, I guess. Couldn't really sleep.

[ A grunt is his only reply for a while, but then he comes to lean a hip against the piano. (He wonders if the people aboard the ship scavenged it from the dust, or if it had been here all along? Someone's luggage, maybe. Someone who thought it important enough to bring on an interstellar journey.)

He gives Midvalley a once over, notes that he's looking a lot less shitty since their escape. Better. More like the man he knew, who once nearly killed him, blinded him, pointed a gun at his face.

Happy memories. Good times. ]

You doin' okay? [ Not that he cares. Because of course he doesn't. Not really. He's only asking because-- ] Haven't had time to babysit you. Make sure you're keepin' outta trouble.

I don't think anybody here's happy to have me around, but I don't particularly blame 'em. Been keeping to myself, mostly.

[ Another grunt, and he doesn't bother disguising the way he examines Modvalley, like he's looking for tells. ]

You gonna stick around here? Or are you headin' out as soon as you're well enough?

[ He quirks a brow ]

What's that look for? You think I'm gonna turn on everybody first chance I get?

Edited 2015-06-03 22:27 (UTC)

[ Wolfwood shrugs a shoulder, his free hand taking the cigarette from his lips to tap the spent ash onto the floor. ]

What can I say, Hornfreak? You got a history of betrayal.

[ says the double reverse quadruple agent. ]

That's rich, coming from you.

[ yeah, he's not unaware of the irony here ] What makes you think that psychopath had my loyalty any more than he had yours?

[ He shrugs a shoulder again, though his gaze doesn't lose any of its intensity. ]

Don't know where your loyalties lie, Player, except with yourself. Just tryin' to see which way you might swing if no one's keepin' you in check.

[ It's a this point that he stops playing the piano, closing the fall over the keys and turning to fully face the preacher ]

If this would have happened about six months ago, I would have been long gone. I'll admit that. I never asked to be a part of any of this.

But right now, where have I got to go? There's no living in those ruined places the Ark left behind, and anything up ahead is just Knives' next target. I don't have a whole lot of choices here, and if it's between dying alone out there somewhere or dying while giving that freak one final "fuck you", I'll take the latter, thanks. I'm on borrowed time as it is. Might as well make the best of it.

And what about after that? Say the idiot manages to take down Knives, and the world is slightly less shitty. What're you plannin' on doin' then?

[ He very nearly makes a smartass remark, but he figures he should just level with the other man. ]

I'm gonna quietly disappear, and you and your buddies are never gonna hear from me again.

[ Wolfwood lets those words sink in, observing the Player all the while, as though trying to see through him. Paranoid, maybe; but the Hornfreak was an assassin, recruited by Knives just like the Eye of Michael was. No telling what kind of fucked up shit the guy did to garner Knives' attention.

Didn't matter now, though. Couldn't turn down help, regardless of the form it came in.

It helped that the Player wasn't as much of a shitstain as he used to think he was. So at length, he nods, takes the cigarette to tap out more ash. ]

You willin' to do me another favor?

I guess that depends on the favor.

Think you can stomach babysittin' the spiky-headed idiot?

Why? You got a date or something?

[ He exhales a plume of smoke up toward the ceiling. ]

Somethin' like that. Got some shit I need to take care of.

Such as? Or is that a secret?

Need to know basis, Player. Top secret.

Call me a cynic, but I've got a sinking feeling you're about to run off and do something phenomenally stupid.

Alright then. You're a cynic.

[ He considers stubbing the cigarette out on the piano, by decides against it at the last moment. The Hornfreak would certainly have his head for that. Instead, he drops it to the ground, grinds it out with his heel. ]

It's just a thing I gotta take care of. Need you to make sure Spiky doesn't do anythin' suicidal without me.

Fine, but if he wants to come after you, I sure as hell ain't gonna stop him.

[ He makes a buzzer noise. ] Wrong.

Keep him focused on what he's gotta do. Bad enough he's gotta take down a psychopath with almost godly powers.

Just cover for me.

What makes you think he'll listen to anything I have to say?

(no subject)

propitiate - 2015-06-21 22:41 (UTC) - Expand