They were after the knives? Well, that made an awful lot of sense when you actually thought about it, even if it was odd that Suzaku apparently assumed he could take out that... boss zombie by himself. Then again, Haseo didn't know what the two may have been capable of before arriving as "patients" at Landel's, so perhaps it wasn't quite as nonsensical as it seemed at first. As for the fight itself, he guessed that some media had differences in their portrayal of the undead, which would explain why Suzaku hadn't thought to go for his opponent's head. He failed to acknowledge that he hadn't even been sure of the "suggestion" himself when he'd given it, and that everyone wasn't as chronically exposed to fiction like he was.
Haseo nodded again when provided an introduction, neglecting to let on that he'd partly known their identities from Suzaku's question to his very non-offensive Class friend. While he was glad they were both okay (aside from the rather impressive amount of zombie gunk all over one and weakened state of the other), he was at the same time deeply annoyed. Although he had managed to snap something "nicer" into place for Haseo's benefit, Lelouch's attitude really grated on the teen's already frayed nerves. Even so, he felt a tinge of relief when Suzaku said he could keep the bigger knife, and he was about to respond when...
There was a long pause, and once more Haseo lowered his head, an odd expression crossing his face. He couldn't help but think that the last time someone had used that sort of tone with him, they had ended up with a sword through their digital back. With the level of stress this night was putting on him, his sudden aversion was completely unrestrained.
A resounding thok rang out as the blade was slammed forcefully back into the counter, where it remained quivering with an odd hum as Haseo turned sharply and walked to the other knives behind the counter. "This shit's the only kind of thing I know how to use," he snapped, voice low as he snatched one knife and then another from their holders. They were shorter and didn't quite look as sharp, but they'd have to do. Even if he needed longer knives. He wasn't designed - literally - for combat involving hand-to-hand or fighting with a shank or whatever.
"Good luck then, Suzaku," he said, and in his a flat tone was the mild suggestion that he might feel sorry for him. Kibitoshin and Leon weren't really fighters either, but at least they weren't assholes as far as he could tell. Turning the two knives deftly in hand, he claimed back his makeshift battering-shelf from where he'd set it, climbed right over the counter, and disappeared in the direction he'd initially come from.
no subject
Haseo nodded again when provided an introduction, neglecting to let on that he'd partly known their identities from Suzaku's question to his very non-offensive Class friend. While he was glad they were both okay (aside from the rather impressive amount of zombie gunk all over one and weakened state of the other), he was at the same time deeply annoyed. Although he had managed to snap something "nicer" into place for Haseo's benefit, Lelouch's attitude really grated on the teen's already frayed nerves. Even so, he felt a tinge of relief when Suzaku said he could keep the bigger knife, and he was about to respond when...
There was a long pause, and once more Haseo lowered his head, an odd expression crossing his face. He couldn't help but think that the last time someone had used that sort of tone with him, they had ended up with a sword through their digital back. With the level of stress this night was putting on him, his sudden aversion was completely unrestrained.
A resounding thok rang out as the blade was slammed forcefully back into the counter, where it remained quivering with an odd hum as Haseo turned sharply and walked to the other knives behind the counter. "This shit's the only kind of thing I know how to use," he snapped, voice low as he snatched one knife and then another from their holders. They were shorter and didn't quite look as sharp, but they'd have to do. Even if he needed longer knives. He wasn't designed - literally - for combat involving hand-to-hand or fighting with a shank or whatever.
"Good luck then, Suzaku," he said, and in his a flat tone was the mild suggestion that he might feel sorry for him. Kibitoshin and Leon weren't really fighters either, but at least they weren't assholes as far as he could tell. Turning the two knives deftly in hand, he claimed back his makeshift battering-shelf from where he'd set it, climbed right over the counter, and disappeared in the direction he'd initially come from.