Day 42, Noon: The Twin Pine Restaurant

[thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com]

Yuffie took the long way around, practically making it a tour of the entire town. She collared--not literally, since the nurses would've thrown fits--a few random citizens along the way, asked as many inconspicuous sounding questions as possible, and then moved on. Wash, rinse, repeat. Sneaking a few covert glimpses into stores and windows confirmed what she'd been talking about with Sam earlier; no dates, no explicitly mentioned locations outside of the town itself… how weird was that? Even the most insular of towns back on Gaia would've coughed up some kind of connection with the outside world.

It was almost like a living ghost town.

Well, maybe she was just thinking too hard. Maybe she was throwing shuriken too hard at the wrong target. Back home, she had a concrete frame of reference. Here, she couldn't take anything for granted; she had no local or international knowledge whatsoever. All she could try to do was get a profile of the immediate area and build it up and out from there. Theories were already budding, popping up like weeds hit by Quadra-Haste, but without facts to back them up, theories were like sand in a desert.

Not that she didn't want to share those theories, sand or not. She did. A lot.

Once she'd developed a viable mental map of the place (as viable as she was gonna get given the time constraints), Yuffie swung back around and jogged back to North Street. From there, she took the alley; a quick right turn; slow to a trot, and there. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold winter air, and they stung as she poked her head in through the door.

Okay, so maybe she was a little early after all. That was cool. Very cool. She had some time to set things up, to pretend that she wasn't hideously under prepared for this lunch date. Stepping into the warmth, Yuffie surreptitiously cased the place out as she headed to a table. Homey, in a way that almost reminded her of some of the up-and-coming rural towns. Automatically seeking out one of the more strategic seats--one with a good view of the rest of the restaurant, and one that didn't leave her totally vulnerable to mutant chairs or murderous sandwiches--she made herself comfortable, whipped out a few crumpled pieces of paper and a pen, and began to jot down her findings.

[Closed to Edgeworth.]

Comments

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

"And if you believe that frightens me in the least, you haven't been paying attention. I suppose that means we are at an impasse." So it was going to be this way, was it? X shrugged, uninterested, before removing a card from his sleeve to idly play with. He watched its edges as the God spoke, not missing that twirling of the knife, but altogether not caring.

Grell could try to kill him if he wished. It would at least be a fun game, if nothing else. Besides, he could not say he would mind feeling just how sharp those teeth were once again.

Nod. "True enough. As my original plans for him had fallen apart as easily as a house of cards, perhaps misleading Ms. Chere's attention would be for the better. I do doubt Mr. Tim would be kind enough to not make it a fight to the death, so one can assume that, should Ms. Chere fail, it would at least cause you joy.

"If you do not mind my intrusion, however," he tilted his head, eying the other curiously, "who did attack you? Not another vigilante, I hope?"

[deadlyjuliet.livejournal.com]

Grell smirked when Luxord stood firm against the threat. Men were so very attractive when they were like this - uncaring, just a bit on the rough side, such piercing eyes... "I suppose we are." With one hand, Grell twirled the knife around and around in slow circles. "It's a shame, though." The knife slipped from his fingers and fell toward the floor - and just as it dropped beneath the table's edge, he caught it and slipped it into his sleeve. When no one immediately came to stop him, he straightened and shrugged. "I was so hoping to get a rise out of you. Ah~ It's no fun when no one plays along."

Leaning forward, Grell dropped his chin in his hand with a pout and let his eyes wander the restaurant. There were a lot of people in here, some whom he knew and some he didn't, but there was one thing they all had in common. He couldn't tell when their time was slated to come. It was frustrating for a death god to not be able to read a person's life and know their death. Next to his scythe, that was what he missed the most.

Sighing, the death god blew a strand of hair out of his face and tapped a finger against his cheek out of boredom. "Don't misunderstand me, love, I don't dislike her. She was just my rival for your attention. And, of course, nothing would cause me more joy than to see everyone here lying in a pool of their own blood, but she's not exactly top of the list."

When Luxord asked who attacked him, Grell slid his gaze over, peering at the Nobody over the edge of his frames. "No, merely the man who nearly killed me before I arrived here." Suddenly sitting up straight, Grell raised a hand, delicately touched his fingers to his forehead, closing his eyes, sighing in lament. "I could have loved him, if only he and I weren't born of different worlds! He, destined to devour the souls of the innocent. Me, to reap them and send them along to Heaven!"

The hand dropped and Grell shrugged, giving up the Juliet act. "...That and if he wasn't such a complete twat about that runt of his. Unfortunately, where the loyal dog goes, so does the master and that brat ordered my death; and he has this thing about following orders to the letter. So you, my dear, are safe, unless someone ratted you out as well and the Earl Phantomhive decides to be particularly vindictive."

[clockmongler.livejournal.com]

...Well. At least Grell was honest with his desires--that did have to count for something, did it not? X thought so.

Though the gesture with the knife did remind him that, yes, they were in a restaurant and, yes, they should perhaps order something. Luxord didn't particularly feel as if this diner would anything more substantial than the institute did (he would much rather cook his own food if he could, really. Why was that? Perhaps too much time spent with II...) though, so this processed, mundane business was not really rubbing him the right way. He had every right to be apprehensive of their meals.

In any case.

"I see," he said casually with a nod of his head, still toying with that card. It shouldn't surprise him that anyone from the God's world would also wish him dead, but it was a small comfort to know that Mr. Tim had not taken upon his offer to attack just yet. "Will you be alright?" Not that Luxord was offering to help.

[deadlyjuliet.livejournal.com]

[Busy at work ate me alive. DX Think we're probably pretty good, but will backthread a little faster from here on out if you want to continue]

Grell knew that Luxord held no love lost for him, or any love at all. A man without a heart had that little problem. Sometimes it was appealing and sometimes, Grell would like to at least pretend there was something deeper to Luxord's words. It was unfortunate, however, that he couldn't delude himself that much.

Such a shame.

Shrugging his shoulders again, Grell waved his hands dismissively and leaned back in his seat. Only to wince and sit forward again. Right. He'd nearly forgotten how Sebastian had driven his knee right into his back. He probably had an ugly bruise there to match the rest of them. "I won't die, if that's what you're worried about, love. It's a bit harder to kill me than that. But what of you? If my identity is revealed, won't it blow your cover as well with our lovely stalker? And unfortunately for you, you're a bit easier to kill than I am."