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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 11:57:24 GMT -8
Mac glanced somewhat sharply over at the other. "I'm fine," he said, voice barely above a growl. "Just wet. I hate bein' wet." He sighed though, glancing up at the sky through the broken roof. "How... how lon' should we stay here?"
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 12:57:05 GMT -8
"A little before sunset. We could leave earlier, since we don't know if the blues saw us or not, but we also may not want to take that risk. I still recommend circling back around to the car mostly under the cover of night." He reached into his pocket to find nothing but a pack of cigarettes that had dissolved in the river run. Frowning, with perhaps an element of pout, he shoved the ruined pack back into his pocket and banged his head against the wall. This place did not possess the comforts of home.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 13:06:47 GMT -8
Mac jumped at the sound of the bang, glancing over at the other tom in worry. "You okay over there?" he asked, fishing around for his own cigarettes and finding them in slightly better condition, since he'd stuck them in his inner shirt pocket, so they had gotten a lot less wet. The matches though... damn, would have to wait for them to dry out.
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 13:53:05 GMT -8
"I'm fine," Brachen sang back, "just wish there was something to pass the time. It'll be another three hours before sunset."
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 14:01:49 GMT -8
Nodding, Mac slid down the wall to sit, tossing the packet of cigarettes and the matches out in front of him, hoping the air would dry them faster and wishing he had something like a blanket to use to dry himself off as well. It was starting to get warmer, but there was still a chill in the air, especially when soaking wet. He drew his legs a little farther up toward his chest.
"Had a deck of cards off Henry, but I don't think they survived the plunge worth hell," he said, moving his coat around and trying to remember which pocket he had stuck the deck in. His ears flickered as well, having lost the hat he'd been wearing in the run.
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 14:11:45 GMT -8
Brachen took off his coat and laid it out on the ground, looking for the knives that he kept on him just to make sure they hadn't gotten wet- you needed to take good care of your tools of the trade. He pulled out his favorite, unsheathed it and placed it on the dry part of the jacket. Then he pulled out the smaller one from his shoe. Another one. One he kept just because it looked pretty.
Well, he pulled out a few.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 14:14:42 GMT -8
Mac stopped what he was doing to watch the other, taking note of the number of knifes he was pulling out. "You keep that many on you?" he asked after a moment, going back to patting down his pockets... ah yes, there was the deck, and yes it was completely ruined. He dropped it on the floor in slight disgust, pulling his coat closer around him.
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 14:45:01 GMT -8
"I like variety," Brachen replied as he pulled out the last of them, a curved Indian blade with serrated edges. "Which one I use depends on what mood I'm in."
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 14:48:05 GMT -8
Mac's eyebrows shot up at the last blade. "No kiddin'? Quite the collection there." His straight razor felt a little insecure around all those other blades, but Mac knew his strengths and stuck with them. Honestly, he still preferred just to shoot the other cats then get so close to them to kill them.
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 14:51:50 GMT -8
"A lot of people like guns," Brachen went on. "But guns jam, they backfire, they get their barrels clogged and they turn on their handlers. Knives now, knives are reliable. They don't turn on you unless you ask them to, or you're not strong enough to handle them."
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 14:56:36 GMT -8
Mac leaned back against the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him as he considered that. "Just means they're not takin' care of their guns right," he said. "Though, I understand the point." He sat for a moment, absorbing it.
((Mac's latest favorite song is "Would you be Impressed" by Streetlight Manifesto... please never give me a band again >.< They've moved into my brain and characters have been picking out songs.))
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 15:13:52 GMT -8
Brachen chuckled. "True, and knives don't work right if you don't take care of him." And goodness, did he take care of them. "I suppose I'm biased because I have a strong affinity for the close and personal. Something about how I feel I need to lock eyes with them." The eyes were the windows to the soul, after all, and he wanted them to know who took it from them.
(("Would You Be Impressed" is one of my favorite Streetlight Manifesto songs. "One Foot on the Gas, One Foot on the Grave" now belongs to Brachen.))
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 15:32:54 GMT -8
((Oh mein Gott...))
Mac hunched his shoulders slightly. "See, I'm perfectly happy ta not do that but..." He shrugged a little before hunching down again. "To each cat their own. Knives certainly have their advantages ta though."
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Post by qualapec on Jan 22, 2011 15:38:13 GMT -8
Brachen's grin sharpened. "There's something to be said for privacy, too - if you know their soul they know yours and so on." He didn't mind letting the cats he killed know his soul, his chaos...but Hollister was more private. It made sense, but Brachen didn't think he'd ever stop appreciating the non-judgmental way Hollister reacted, even if he couldn't understand.
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Post by victoriousscarf on Jan 22, 2011 15:44:48 GMT -8
Sighing, Mac let his head rest back against the wall he was sitting against. "Don't think I would want anycat knowin' my soul, dead or not," he mumbled.
((... Brachen, you are *not helping* with thoughts like that.))
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