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i write sins, not tragedies.
[ London, 2063.
The fog is thick tonight. It paints the world a particular shade of gray that blends streets and buildings together, so much that the glow of the street lamps seem to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
A curious thing that you see though, is the sight of a young man in his mid-twenties, dressed in a deep crimson suit as he comes to a stop at one corner. There's a distinct click as he lights up a cigarette, the same hand that stows the gunmetal Zippo back in his pocket fishing out a phone that he brings to his ear. ]
All quiet on my end.
The fog is thick tonight. It paints the world a particular shade of gray that blends streets and buildings together, so much that the glow of the street lamps seem to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
A curious thing that you see though, is the sight of a young man in his mid-twenties, dressed in a deep crimson suit as he comes to a stop at one corner. There's a distinct click as he lights up a cigarette, the same hand that stows the gunmetal Zippo back in his pocket fishing out a phone that he brings to his ear. ]
All quiet on my end.
no subject
[ But he knows what you mean, Kaz. It's too quiet -- quieter than it should be on a night when there are patrols going about. This... this is a silence that weighs down his bones.
At the mention of 'chessboard' though, a grin tugs on the corner of his mouth. ]
Giving your blade leader orders, huh, little brother? [ And right on cue, he does just that, spreading his influence across this side of the city just to get a feel of things.
He's not going to set up completely. Not just yet. There are other Rhiannon agents in the area, other Sin-Eaters wandering about. The last thing he needs is someone jumping the gun and thinking that he's challenging their Boneyard radius with his own. ]
no subject
[I-it's not like I feel safer knowing the Chessboard's on the field, baka-nii!
Kaz doesn't say it out loud, not wanting to sound like a petulant child (or like the worrywart he tends to be). He lets it sit, and finds himself a perch, eyes scanning the mist. He's wearing the Brotherhood tonight, so he blends into the shadows easily.]