We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

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We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Anisen on Mon Aug 22, 2011 9:12 pm

Nighttime was his daylight, when the world became a playground of shadows and invisible whispers. The dark struck fear and unease into most, but it calmed his restless mind and made him feel at home. His slender form was reclined against a tree, obscured in shadow as he unconsciously unloaded and reloaded the revolver in his hands. It was a long-time habit that came as naturally as breathing, and he simply stared ahead, strikingly green eyes peering through unruly black locks while his deft fingers manipulated the metal and lead.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Aster on Mon Aug 22, 2011 10:11 pm

He had become fast friends with the night, since that one those many months ago. Or had it been a year, by now? Whatever the case, he had begun to take notice of the change in his movements over that time. His steps had become unconsciously quieted now, and he often found himself drifting thoughtlessly toward the sides of buildings as he walked. His amber eyes could see his surroundings almost perfectly clear now, even as the moon sat perched in the night's black sky.

His ears, too, had become adept at picking up faint sounds. One of which, a complicated clicking of metal, caused his brown, tattered cloak to flutter at his knees as his feet came to an abrupt stop. He stood motionless there, save for the hand gliding smoothly around the handle of the knife he'd kept concealed at his waist.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Anisen on Mon Aug 22, 2011 10:23 pm

The rustle of clothing, no matter how soft, never escaped his ears, and such a sound had wafted into the vicinity. A brief scan of the area confirmed he was no longer alone. A figure had stopped fairly close by. Given it's body language, it was aware of his presence. What better than to say hello to his new friend?

"It's rare that I find fellow night owls."

His voice was raspy, like a cat's deep purr. Reloading his gun a final time, he departed from the shadows, his movements somehow equally sharp and fluid as he made his unhurried approach. His clothing was black as the darkness that surrounded him, no tatters to be seen in his trench coat; his new companion didn't seem to believe in keeping his own quite so immaculate.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Aster on Mon Aug 22, 2011 10:49 pm

Male. Young adult at the minimum, or perhaps older. Not at all threatened by his presence. That's what he could tell from the voice that had suddenly punctured the tense air between the two silhouettes. Under normal circumstances, that would make for a fine situation. Likely it would have been a personable stranger out for a midnight stroll, comfortable enough with the blackness to not be off-put by the presence of another person at such a late hour.

But this particular stranger, whoever he was, carried an indescribable wickedness in his tone. His words had been peaceful enough; they were damn near friendly, in fact. Still, something invisible within them seemed... off. Off enough that when the figure began to move his way, red flags raised high within the young man's mind.

"Don't move."
Was he able to mask the pang of discomfort in his own voice, he wondered?
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Anisen on Mon Aug 22, 2011 11:07 pm

It was as if the other man's words never reached him, because he didn't stop moving. He wanted to survey his new friend, and what he wanted took precedence over the whims and desires of every other being on the planet. There were those he knew well. Sometimes he listened to them, if he knew their agendas often matched his own. Then there were those, like this lad, that he'd just met. Their words carried no more weight than the air around them, insubstantial and practically nonexistent in his mind. Currently it was a bit cold out, the faintest puffs of white billowing from his lips as he walked right up to the stranger and then walked right past him. He proceeded a couple more feet before stopping and turning, tilting his head and tapping the barrel of his gun on his chin. The emerald of his eyes blazed through the darkness and bore into this new object of interest, but not a word left him for all his curiosity.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Aster on Thu Oct 27, 2011 11:43 pm

Fear. Briefly, a fraction of his mind had questioned itself for abandoning the plan it had hurriedly scrapped together. If the ominous stranger were to take four more steps, he had told himself, the hilt of his dagger would collide with the man's skull, leaving him to wake hours later with an irritating headache. Why had he not followed through? As the foreboding figure stood behind him, the hairs on the back of his neck rising in alert to his analytic gaze, he could think of only two plausible answers. Perhaps the looming sense of peril about the man had been enough assurance to kill him then and there, and he simply failed to summon the courage to take his first human life. Or, more likely, everything about this character of the night had paralyzed his nerves on the spot. In either scenario, fear had allowed the individual to saunter right past him.

He spun on his heel, the old sheet of cloth whirling at his ankles. Before he could meet the man's curious stare, however, fear returned to rob him of his momentary bravura. It wrapped around his brain, freezing it and cutting off it's flow of clarity. In the stranger's hands, tapping his chin as he eyed him with unsettling intrigue, was a gun. A knot churned tightly in his chest. Where he was from, no one had ever heard of a gun. He had wandered for miles and miles before laying eyes on one. On the first occasion, he had stolen a bottle of rum from a liquor store. He had already been out the door when a bullet whizzed by inches from his head, drilling into a building to his right. He had studied guns since, in books and on shelves... and decided that he nor anyone should need possession of such terrifying power.

Yet this man stood before him, aiming one of these terrible weapons with leisure at his own head. He could think of no words to say over the prayer that his legs hadn't begun to tremble.
They had.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Anisen on Fri Oct 28, 2011 1:39 pm

"A man of few words, are you?"

Some people, like him, spoke with actions, but that couldn't be said for someone who did nothing. The man was like a statue, save for the breeze toying subtly with his clothing... and his legs. His legs were shaking. Tonight might be an interesting night after all. It was fun to watch a mouse run, but it was even more interesting to see one stand it's ground. The outcome was less predictable. Like a cat, he purred with satisfaction.

"What's that you have there?"

He tilted his head to the side, the same side the man's hand had been hovering over ever since they'd acknowledged each other's presence.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

Post  Aster on Tue Nov 08, 2011 2:46 am

The man's grating voice threw his scattered wits into a pile. There came a slight clarity with the feeling- no, rather the knowledge that if he didn't assemble himself quickly, he was likely to perish. He had traveled too far, made too much progress to allow that to happen. If he were to die here, so suddenly and by a stranger's hand, every step he'd taken since his departure would amount to nothing.

"It's nothing you should need to concern yourself with", he responded with as much composure as he could muster. "You seem like a reasonably intelligent man. Surely you can see there's no benefit in either of us shedding our blood."

A pacifistic quip, yet the look in his eyes was of steel and at his side, his fingers tightly squeezed the handle of his blade.
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Re: We're catching bullets with our heads and hearts and all the darkest parts of us

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