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damned_institute2007-07-08 09:45 am
whiteychan.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2007-07-08 09:45 am
Day 25: Sun Room (Fourth Shift)
The concept of gardening in the greenhouse was not one that Hitsugaya was particularly fond of. It was likely exceptionally warm inside, whereas the young captain had a preference for cold climates. He also needed to make himself available for anyone who happened to want to speak with him. The sun room overall seemed the best choice.
As a warm and cheerful nurse led him into the sunroom, he glanced around. At the moment he was the first one there, which was good, as it meant he could keep an eye out for one of the many individuals who had expressed curiosity about the 'arts and crafts' division. It also meant he could watch out for Omi or this Hellsing woman. He excused himself from the nurse and proceeded to a seat that gave him a good view of the entrance. If not for the fact that he was being held here against his will, he might have felt happy. Real rice. He hadn't had time to eat as much as he had hoped, what with his meeting with Mustang, but he still ate a lot more than he'd had the opportunity previously. Even Momo seemed to be acting more like normal.
As unpleasant as the day had begun, it was turning out to be a good day.
As a warm and cheerful nurse led him into the sunroom, he glanced around. At the moment he was the first one there, which was good, as it meant he could keep an eye out for one of the many individuals who had expressed curiosity about the 'arts and crafts' division. It also meant he could watch out for Omi or this Hellsing woman. He excused himself from the nurse and proceeded to a seat that gave him a good view of the entrance. If not for the fact that he was being held here against his will, he might have felt happy. Real rice. He hadn't had time to eat as much as he had hoped, what with his meeting with Mustang, but he still ate a lot more than he'd had the opportunity previously. Even Momo seemed to be acting more like normal.
As unpleasant as the day had begun, it was turning out to be a good day.
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Better late than never, the saying went. "Dean, I have no idea what a demon is. I don't know if I qualify or not. Which is why I need to know why you hate them." The simple truth.
Of course, given how the word was generally used, it was easy to guess why one would hate 'demons.' She was more interested in whether it was possible to earn an exception should she be so defined.
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Yeah, the idea of whispering Christo seemed inane. Call the error haphazard, excluding the gut feeling accompanying it, but she wasn't possessed. Inhaling and exhaling in a silence, he looked back at her as the initial doubt of judgment swelling within him started covering embarrassment entirely.
"Not just demons." He wasn't planning to lift his gaze from her again, if only to emphasise the truths he uttered. "There're creatures, abominations... all sorts o' things that exist to hurt people. They can be summoned. Hell, they can be watching your family and you wouldn't even know it." Leaning in closer, what followed was hushed. "I've been huntin' them my whole life. Let's say, I, uh... Well, there aren't many of us who've lost that innocence. But part of the few of us who have work to save the unfortunate lives these... things, these... these evil things enjoy preying on. Makes life bearable, knowin' you can help someone in those circumstances."
A smirk had appeared on his lips of its own accord. He was perfectly aware he hadn't answered the demon question.
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She was aware that even in the realm of practical morality her past did not put her on the most solid ground, but it beat him having some religious or otherwise absolute objection to nonhumans in human form.
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Rein didn't like that smirk much. This was, to her mind, the heaviest topic she could broach.
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He did not want to learn that this girl was cold-hearted enough to pretend she had no qualms concerning past sin. Lack of detail to support her position was merely leading him to envision the worst.
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She spoke under obvious strain, because this among all things mattered to her. She had been mended, she had been forgiven... but it had taken another to save her from herself. To be judged weak for that failure, to be reviled by those who could not forgive her sins, these she could accept. But for someone to make light of the change itself, the defining moment of her life, the work of the one she loved... to speak of that as some flippant whim, a tired lie...
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"Y'know, why bother telling me this?" The huntsman's grip was slipping; he and any witness could sense it. Unfortunately, when the man was furious, he wasn't apt in thinking before speaking.
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Which probably sounded more predatory than it needed to in the present context, but such dark moods tended to bring out that side of her.
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Dean wasn't aware a sentence of that nature would surface. Since his conduct thus far could've been likened to a train bound to crash, instead an impenetrable object currently stood in the way. Impossible for the fuming demeanor to instantly meld into peace, his expression subsequent to the answer followed a series of steps: first he blinked, brow no longer furrowed, then he straightened, and as his body was slowly showing evidence of astonishment he remembered speech was a skill.
An uncomfortable silence consumed him before he could finally manage something.
"Oh." Voice significantly soft now, his stare was nothing short of dumbstruck; not a clue what it was she meant by that. Was she a predator to shun, or a friend with unruly tendencies?
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And with that, she turned to leave.
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"... What." A magical weapon? Sounded a little too fantastical for his tastes. The hunter couldn't admit he was on the ball, made painfully apparent by fairly blank features.
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