[Another gurgle, victorious when he's able to notice Akira's reactions through his own gasping and gagging, before Gregor's fingers extend even more, beyond the reach of flesh and bone. If he can't grab, then he'll gouge more, and poke, whatever it takes to dissuade those bulbous, tacky-wet eyes from blocking his airway.
..............god he hopes the others don't find them, because he's about to do a real gamer move. Deep breath, as deep as he can manage with all of this shit in his throat at least, before his meat hand grips his throat and squeezes hard. Gregor Samsa, choking himself out just to spite this absolute babe/shithead/tease.]
[ Well that sure does it, sending his head careening back as far as his spine will allow, letting out a strangled cry of pain only muffled by the mask. One by one those malignant globes seep back into the lining of Gregor's throat until it's smooth and free to breathe again, all the while accompanied by the thief fervently tapping his hand against the floor as if this is some childhood wrestling match and he's finally calling uncle. ]
[And lo, Greg frees his hands, wiping the prosthetic on his overcoat as it clicks back into place. A man who was just choking himself has no right to look so pleased, and yet, he does.]
Let's not do that again, alright? I'm trying to have a real upfront conversation with you, man to man, and you go pullin' dirty tricks...Really wounded me, fella. Pissed me off a bit, actually; got half a mind to just drag you outta here and throw you to the others.
[And yet he sits, panting, grinning, patting himself down for cigs already.]
[ Give him a second, he needs to breathe and let some of the pain thrumming at the back of his eyes subside a little before he can get back to bantering. ]
Wouldn't...wouldn't have lasted long doing this if I just...gave out my secrets to every handsome stranger putting his hands all over me...
[ Handsome, huh? Sure his face is flushed but that could be from all the exertion just now. Effectively getting your eyeballs squeezed, picked at, and pulled twenty or so times over is going to do an awful lot to you.
Eventually, though, he'll have enough of his breath back to tilt his head up to look at this crazy son of a bitch with much less ire or fear than Gregor might be expecting after a stunt like that. In fact, he seems much more intrigued than anything. ]
Fair play, fair play. You acting alone? I'm guessing you are, since you haven't tried to call out to anyone instead of pissing me off, but it never hurts to be sure.
[While he natters away, he flicks a cigarette out of the pack and offers it to Akira with a wink, though that might be hard to see behind his transition lenses.] You're not that punk who's been stealing from rich assholes to give to the deserving, huh? Maaaan, if it wouldn't risk a few sections' reps, I'd let you have that damn thinger. Dunno what it does, but I'm sure there's way better it could be used for than sitting here.
[A contented hum, as Gregor pulls a cigarette out for himself and sits it on his bottom lip, before fishing for a lighter. Swt swt swt-- there, there's just enough fluid for a few more lights. Not that he's going to waste it. He's just going to pocket the lighter again, waiting for Akira to take that mask off and get the cigarette in his mouth.
Yeah, this stupid motherfucker's going for a homoerotic tip-to-tip light to save on lighter fluid, and because he just got called handsome and he plans on capitalising on that, thanks.]
[ He wasn't, but the friend he brought along just in case is absolutely not the type to stick around if things got dicey, Akira be damned. The moment all the other Zweis started moving as if they knew something was up he would've turned literal tail and been long gone by now.
The offered cigarette gets another pause as he's finally fully back upright, eyes flicking from it, to Gregor, and to various spots in the large room. He lingers on one in particular for just a second longer than the others before taking that offer.
Carefully the mask is lowered, revealing a perfectly normal nose and mouth accented by a beauty mark and a smile. With the same hand he holds it up as if to protect the cigarette from some kind of nonexistent wind as he puts it in his mouth, pointedly blocking the view of the direction he'd lingered on. ]
You make it sound like I'm some kind of Robin Hood. [ The smile quirks with a laugh, light and good natured. ]
Far as my research has told me, all it really does is look pretty. The advertisements try to work the angle of it being some kind of mysterious natural growth, but I've looked pretty damn deep into the most reputable sources I could find and there aren't any science journals or whatever talking about it. So either the owner's held it so tight he won't even let the pros look at it, or he's got a fancy paperweight and a good sense of drama.
[He notices that look, but also like. He's getting complacent again, knows that he at least has an advantage here in proximity. Speaking of which: time to go in for that light at last, lips quirked lopsidedly.]
...Knowing rich folks, probably the latter. If it did anything, a Wing woulda long purloined it for use, but this just did the rounds as something neat and mysterious, far as I was told.
[puff puff, right in Akira's face. Sorry, bro.]
Still. What makes you think folks wouldn't eventually rat you out, if you passed it off for money's sake? Someone down that supply chain's gonna get weak in the face of a beating, and you're done for. Helluva risk you're running. [Running, not ran. Hm.]
[ Oh, hello. He'll hold nice and still for the oh so kind light, eyes not leaving Gregor's saying that he very much likes what he sees this closely. That comment about him being handsome wasn't just idle chatter after all. ]
And what if I told you I do it for the thrill, and the altruism is an afterthought?
[ He'll puff right back in Gregor's face too, cheeky shit. Though it comes before a more sober look sneaks into his eyes, all that mischief taking a backseat as he considers those words before offering his own. ]
I try to do business with people I trust as much as I can, but I know you're right. All I can do is prep for that day to come, make it harder to follow the trail, that the people on the end of it can come out squeaky clean so those with more power than heart won't be able to legally touch them when all's said and done. There's what they can do illegally, yeah, but...
[ Another drag, slow and thoughtful. ]
If I eventually get snatched up, that's fine. I just don't want anyone else I pulled into my little games to suffer for it too.
[Oooughghhh, pardon him while he inhales Akira's smoke with clear relish, before finally finally sitting back just a little.]
That's pretty altruistic-soundin' to me, keeping noses clean even in your fun. Most folks who fuck around don't care about the blast radius so long as they get their kicks. Long as you know what's at stake, though, then I can't really go lecturing you, can I?
Say, fella.
[A smoke ring now, not quite far enough away to grow large enough to frame Akira's face, but it is what it is.] How about we get into a brawl, once our smokes are done? Then I letcha go. How's that sound?
[ Mm, there could be plenty lecturing about how it's morally wrong to steal, against the law, no matter how he wants to try and justify it, so on and so forth. Heaven knows he's already heard all of that and filed it away in the very back of 'Don't Care'.
What is worth caring about is this man in front of him with the same thing on the line, a paycheck, leveling with him over a leisurely smoke and then offering...that.
Once again he needs a moment to look Gregor up and down, a little more intently this time as he's searching for any kind of twitch, any kind of tell that this is all a ploy to get Akira to let his guard down even further so cuffs can get slapped on him with less of a fight. Once again he comes up empty-handed.
Leaning in, the smile on his face is suddenly much more intense. ]
Very much so. Make it look like we both tried even harder than we have, that we've been scrapping in here all along. I gave it my all, but I just couldn't nab you. Hard done by, me.
[And with that said and done, he gets up at last, gets to stretching and grunting
but not before puckering his lips up at that intense smile. Mwah.]
Don't know. Maybe I'll see you again, maybe I won't. But if we do meet again after this, I wanna know your name. Not gonna use it against you. Just for my old bones' sake, that's all. We got a deal or not?
Letting the big bad criminal go, and you just want my name. [ He still sounds a little incredulous, of course he does, but it shortly turns into another, more genuinely pleased laugh. ] Alright, we've got a deal.
[ Another thought strikes him as he goes to stand up as well, mask poised to go right back on his face once he's done with the very last bits of his cig. ]
I've got a tranquilizer in one of my pockets. Think that would help sell it better, or would it be too much?
Maybe I'm just getting my kicks from this. Most fun I've had in a while, this. That eye trick. You. I wanna hunt you down again. That's all. Want you to get even better at it and stretch me out even thinner.
Tranquiliser should be fine for now. Still gonna need some blows first, and I'd feel insulted if I didn't at least leave a calling card on you bar making you squirm some.
[He sucks on the filter; uncouth, unpleasant, but it makes the smoke burn faster. Now he's getting an itch for this, for battle again even if it's rigged.] At least the zweihander bein' discarded won't be against me, in here. Wise man, wise man.
Whenever you're ready, you get first blow. Try not to break the glasses, yeah?
[ It's a little chilly in here what with all the vents, prime art preservation temperature, yadda yadda, but would that be enough to reason away the shiver that gets out of him? Maybe, maybe not. ]
Kicks for kicks, then. I like it! I like you.
You don't have to tell me to keep getting better either--I won't stop doing my best just because there's a chance you'll be the one hot on my tail, hm? If you can't catch me fair and square then that takes out all the fun~
[ Gregor will get a good view at that wide, toothy grin before the butt's carelessly discarded and the mask is back up and secure. Now that he knows there's a lot less on the line this time around he can allow himself to enjoy it as much as he wants. ]
[And with that said and done, they proceed to beat the tar out of each other, with Greg positioning himself very sexily on the floor, sprawled on his back and winking at Akira before he slips out.
no, wait, first he grabs Akira's discarded butt, and then sprawls out. No point leaving evidence behind, and there's only cameras at the door to monitor who comes and goes, so doorway or vent, Akira's easy breezy. Never mind that Gregor gets his pay docked for a month straight, and reduced hours besides; totally worth it, for just the thought of more intense nights on the job and more kids getting a better start in life, a chance at beating the system.
Is it too much to hope that his next guarding gig might bring him close to the handsome thief again? Absolutely, but they don't just throw Zwei fixers around for pittances; that's money, that is, and money gets the best protection a chunk of mushroom could ever want.
Not just any mushroom, mind. And only a chunk, harvested from an infected employee, nurtured, cared for, and completely mundane bar its colouration. But it's still something that could inspire frenzy, could get quite a pretty penny, and so, here the Zwei are. Here Gregor is, lighting a cigarette, watching the walls with intensity. As if Faust hadn't given him a barebones lecture beforehand, warned him that he'd be booted out of the Association altogether if he let another threat slip away.]
[ It's both a blessing and a shame that Zwei is here tonight. A shame because this is one of those targets he'd really like to take his time with, to sit, admire, observe, learn everything about it that he can before the inevitable handoff so he isn't left wondering with that curious itch that always takes months to start fading. But no, no, with security like this he needs to get in and out as quickly as he can, just get his hands on the thing and bolt.
And yet, there's also the chance that handsome stranger will be here. Another curious opportunity that, were he a wiser man, he would ignore and just do what he came here to. He's had a number of successful jobs for lower stakes prizes since that night but this would be a big score, would no doubt pay him enough to let him take his time planning the next big score, and then maybe he could hope Zwei is there too along with his oh so intriguing swordsman to chase him down...
Ugh. A lot of maybes, hopes, and if's. Whatever happens tonight happens, he can daydream about dashing lawmen when he's not already crouched in a hallway shaded by night straining to hear the slightest sound of footsteps.
Unlike the museum this place hadn't been open to the public beforehand, so he had no chance to come in and touch everything he could to learn both the layout and security's positioning. He thinks he's starting to get a hang of how Zwei likes to spread themselves out, though, so it's time to test that theory by doing a few things the old fashioned way.
A ball bearing, small enough to be otherwise inconspicuous but heavy enough to make a noise, is getting carefully tossed around the nearby corner. The plan is, of course, to let any guards within earshot come investigate while he slips by and heads down where they had come from.
not coming. Approaching, certainly, but only a little; as much as he's intrigued by Akira, if this is just some schmuck trying the oldest trick in the book, then there's no point in wasting the job he's busted ass and lost an arm for.
Instead, Gregor yanks a golden button off his overcoat and flicks it in the direction the ball bearing came from, waiting patiently. It'll either scare off anyone without the stomach for actually being caught, or at least make shit more interesting. And while he waits those few seconds for his gesture to be registered, he's just going to light up and clear his throat. Just waiting, keen and sharp.]
[ Cheeky. Smart, respectable, but still cheeky. Now he knows for sure a guard is posted there, and this guard knows for sure someone is here, so there's little point in playing the waiting game hoping they'll think it was all just their imagination and go back to idling by the corner.
Trying to peek somewhere even newer than the museum is a risky move, one he'd been avoiding thus far. But maybe a quick look, low to the ground, just to see if he can get a better idea of exactly what kind of person he's dealing with--a real bruiser, someone built more for speed, that sort of thing. Might be worth it. A gloved hand slides carefully along the wall next to him and he lets his eyes slide shut, concentrating on finding a spot within his reach...
...And his eyes snap right back open when he feels something else very, very interesting.
Gregor will wait a few moments undisturbed in his watchful silence, when all of the sudden a strange feeling itches at his flesh and bone palm. Itch, itch, like something's moving across it, and then pulling open.
Should he investigate, he'll find a familiar red eye set in his skin, beaming right up at him. ]
[Oh, it is so, so fucking ridiculous, the way his heart skips a beat when he sees that vibrant red once more. A risky rendezvous, if one can even call it that, and yet Gregor's still grinning like an idiot, mechanical thumb rubbing at the skin right below the bottom eyelid.]
Ha. You owe me, bucko.
[His name and more besides, probably, but the name'll do. That can come later, after the game; already Gregor's mind is whirling about ways to start that won't completely render the pilfererrrrrr useless, but will get across his response, his chase beginning. Not jamming the cherry of his smoke into the eye, that's too much. The chase ends if the quarry's dead or rendered grievously injured.
Hm.
Depending on how sharp the senses shared between eye and origin are, Akira might feel something stinging in his eyes, but in the sort of way that hurts good, saliva in a scratch. A blunt sting, all over the surface of the eye, gently rough and wet for just a few seconds. And then Gregor's boots start echoing down the hallway, closer, clomp clomp clomp.]
[ Maybe just as ridiculous as the giggle he lets escape when he hears those boots approaching, jolted further into attention by that oh so intriguing stinging sensation. So eager, so excited, all thoughts of his original prize pushed firmly into the backburner as he's faced with the promise of a chase.
Out of the shadows darts an arm, all in black just as before, snatching up the discarded button before retreating back into the darkness with a soft tp-tp-tp headed in the opposite direction. ]
Before he really takes off, he gives one last cursory look behind him, in case Faust's there with that placid disapproval on her face. Nope, coast's clear. Fuck it. Fuck it, life is too short and he deserves a challenge. Gregor lets out a soft little chuff, before turning the corner very normally and politely and
proceeding to break into a sprint, even if his sight's a little hindered by all that shade for a man in black garb to hide within. He's even making a pointed effort to keep his weight in the balls of his feet and the toes of his boots, to try and keep his own sound down just to hear any Akira sounds.]
[ Thankfully backtracking, while not productive in getting where he should be, is productive enough in choosing routes to best keep this game to the two of them. This place isn't quite as large as the museum but it makes up for it in twists and turns in the comparatively narrow hallways, a mixture of rooms with doors that may or may not have already been open beforehand, filing cabinets, quietly humming vending machines, we may just deadass be imagining something like the stanley parable office don't worry about it.
One such vending machine sits in the middle of the first fork in the path that's been chosen, barring any of the doors Greg's already passed. Left goes down a hallway more cluttered with possible things to hide behind while the right is a cleaner, straighter shot forward. Straining to listen, there's no telltale sounds of shifting, stepping, or giggling here to go by.
He could go down an endless spiral of trying to predict what Akira would think his course of action would be when choosing his path, but he won't. Although the straighter path would be the smarter path for any other thief willing to end this quick, and perhaps for a thief who wanted to really challenge themselves alone, it simply isn't fun, is it?
The fun part is the clutter. The options, the sheer number of cover that he can destroy in search of his quarry. Like a simple little filing cabinet, which he skewers with the zweihander and lifts off the ground, as if he's checking for Akira within or behind it. Is. Is he really going to do this all the way down the hallway?
Yes he is. Though he's careful to aim that huge fucking sword away from anywhere his prey could actually hide, at least away from his vitals at worst.] Come out come out, wherever you are. I gotta get that name of yours, fella.
[ None of these poor office supplies stand a chance. There's no sign of his prey anywhere, though, even as he's getting close to the end of this particular hallway. Where on earth could that slippery little bugger have gone...?
Gregor might have an idea if he can feel long fingers sneaking into the pocket keeping his lighter from behind. ]
[Honestly, grabbing him almost anywhere else would've landed a much longer reaction time. The lighter, however? His precious, nigh-empty lighter? Oh no. Ohhhh no. Even if he has to drop his zweihander in order to grab the wrist hopefully attached to the hand those long fingers are sprouting from, Gregor will.
And he'll yank it forward and around, in an effort to come face to face with Akira, at least for a few seconds.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
..............god he hopes the others don't find them, because he's about to do a real gamer move. Deep breath, as deep as he can manage with all of this shit in his throat at least, before his meat hand grips his throat and squeezes hard. Gregor Samsa, choking himself out just to spite this absolute babe/shithead/tease.]
no subject
Okay! Okay, stop, stopstopstop, red! Red!
no subject
Let's not do that again, alright? I'm trying to have a real upfront conversation with you, man to man, and you go pullin' dirty tricks...Really wounded me, fella. Pissed me off a bit, actually; got half a mind to just drag you outta here and throw you to the others.
[And yet he sits, panting, grinning, patting himself down for cigs already.]
You smoke?
no subject
Wouldn't...wouldn't have lasted long doing this if I just...gave out my secrets to every handsome stranger putting his hands all over me...
[ Handsome, huh? Sure his face is flushed but that could be from all the exertion just now. Effectively getting your eyeballs squeezed, picked at, and pulled twenty or so times over is going to do an awful lot to you.
Eventually, though, he'll have enough of his breath back to tilt his head up to look at this crazy son of a bitch with much less ire or fear than Gregor might be expecting after a stunt like that. In fact, he seems much more intrigued than anything. ]
...Yeah. Yeah, I do.
no subject
[While he natters away, he flicks a cigarette out of the pack and offers it to Akira with a wink, though that might be hard to see behind his transition lenses.] You're not that punk who's been stealing from rich assholes to give to the deserving, huh? Maaaan, if it wouldn't risk a few sections' reps, I'd let you have that damn thinger. Dunno what it does, but I'm sure there's way better it could be used for than sitting here.
[A contented hum, as Gregor pulls a cigarette out for himself and sits it on his bottom lip, before fishing for a lighter. Swt swt swt-- there, there's just enough fluid for a few more lights. Not that he's going to waste it. He's just going to pocket the lighter again, waiting for Akira to take that mask off and get the cigarette in his mouth.
Yeah, this stupid motherfucker's going for a homoerotic tip-to-tip light to save on lighter fluid, and because he just got called handsome and he plans on capitalising on that, thanks.]
no subject
[ He wasn't, but the friend he brought along just in case is absolutely not the type to stick around if things got dicey, Akira be damned. The moment all the other Zweis started moving as if they knew something was up he would've turned literal tail and been long gone by now.
The offered cigarette gets another pause as he's finally fully back upright, eyes flicking from it, to Gregor, and to various spots in the large room. He lingers on one in particular for just a second longer than the others before taking that offer.
Carefully the mask is lowered, revealing a perfectly normal nose and mouth accented by a beauty mark and a smile. With the same hand he holds it up as if to protect the cigarette from some kind of nonexistent wind as he puts it in his mouth, pointedly blocking the view of the direction he'd lingered on. ]
You make it sound like I'm some kind of Robin Hood. [ The smile quirks with a laugh, light and good natured. ]
Far as my research has told me, all it really does is look pretty. The advertisements try to work the angle of it being some kind of mysterious natural growth, but I've looked pretty damn deep into the most reputable sources I could find and there aren't any science journals or whatever talking about it. So either the owner's held it so tight he won't even let the pros look at it, or he's got a fancy paperweight and a good sense of drama.
no subject
[He notices that look, but also like. He's getting complacent again, knows that he at least has an advantage here in proximity. Speaking of which: time to go in for that light at last, lips quirked lopsidedly.]
...Knowing rich folks, probably the latter. If it did anything, a Wing woulda long purloined it for use, but this just did the rounds as something neat and mysterious, far as I was told.
[puff puff, right in Akira's face. Sorry, bro.]
Still. What makes you think folks wouldn't eventually rat you out, if you passed it off for money's sake? Someone down that supply chain's gonna get weak in the face of a beating, and you're done for. Helluva risk you're running. [Running, not ran. Hm.]
no subject
And what if I told you I do it for the thrill, and the altruism is an afterthought?
[ He'll puff right back in Gregor's face too, cheeky shit. Though it comes before a more sober look sneaks into his eyes, all that mischief taking a backseat as he considers those words before offering his own. ]
I try to do business with people I trust as much as I can, but I know you're right. All I can do is prep for that day to come, make it harder to follow the trail, that the people on the end of it can come out squeaky clean so those with more power than heart won't be able to legally touch them when all's said and done. There's what they can do illegally, yeah, but...
[ Another drag, slow and thoughtful. ]
If I eventually get snatched up, that's fine. I just don't want anyone else I pulled into my little games to suffer for it too.
no subject
That's pretty altruistic-soundin' to me, keeping noses clean even in your fun. Most folks who fuck around don't care about the blast radius so long as they get their kicks. Long as you know what's at stake, though, then I can't really go lecturing you, can I?
Say, fella.
[A smoke ring now, not quite far enough away to grow large enough to frame Akira's face, but it is what it is.] How about we get into a brawl, once our smokes are done? Then I letcha go. How's that sound?
no subject
What is worth caring about is this man in front of him with the same thing on the line, a paycheck, leveling with him over a leisurely smoke and then offering...that.
Once again he needs a moment to look Gregor up and down, a little more intently this time as he's searching for any kind of twitch, any kind of tell that this is all a ploy to get Akira to let his guard down even further so cuffs can get slapped on him with less of a fight. Once again he comes up empty-handed.
Leaning in, the smile on his face is suddenly much more intense. ]
You're serious, aren't you?
no subject
[And with that said and done, he gets up at last, gets to stretching and grunting
but not before puckering his lips up at that intense smile. Mwah.]
Don't know. Maybe I'll see you again, maybe I won't. But if we do meet again after this, I wanna know your name. Not gonna use it against you. Just for my old bones' sake, that's all. We got a deal or not?
no subject
[ Another thought strikes him as he goes to stand up as well, mask poised to go right back on his face once he's done with the very last bits of his cig. ]
I've got a tranquilizer in one of my pockets. Think that would help sell it better, or would it be too much?
no subject
Tranquiliser should be fine for now. Still gonna need some blows first, and I'd feel insulted if I didn't at least leave a calling card on you bar making you squirm some.
[He sucks on the filter; uncouth, unpleasant, but it makes the smoke burn faster. Now he's getting an itch for this, for battle again even if it's rigged.] At least the zweihander bein' discarded won't be against me, in here. Wise man, wise man.
Whenever you're ready, you get first blow. Try not to break the glasses, yeah?
no subject
Kicks for kicks, then. I like it! I like you.
You don't have to tell me to keep getting better either--I won't stop doing my best just because there's a chance you'll be the one hot on my tail, hm? If you can't catch me fair and square then that takes out all the fun~
[ Gregor will get a good view at that wide, toothy grin before the butt's carelessly discarded and the mask is back up and secure. Now that he knows there's a lot less on the line this time around he can allow himself to enjoy it as much as he wants. ]
no subject
no, wait, first he grabs Akira's discarded butt, and then sprawls out. No point leaving evidence behind, and there's only cameras at the door to monitor who comes and goes, so doorway or vent, Akira's easy breezy. Never mind that Gregor gets his pay docked for a month straight, and reduced hours besides; totally worth it, for just the thought of more intense nights on the job and more kids getting a better start in life, a chance at beating the system.
Is it too much to hope that his next guarding gig might bring him close to the handsome thief again? Absolutely, but they don't just throw Zwei fixers around for pittances; that's money, that is, and money gets the best protection a chunk of mushroom could ever want.
Not just any mushroom, mind. And only a chunk, harvested from an infected employee, nurtured, cared for, and completely mundane bar its colouration. But it's still something that could inspire frenzy, could get quite a pretty penny, and so, here the Zwei are. Here Gregor is, lighting a cigarette, watching the walls with intensity. As if Faust hadn't given him a barebones lecture beforehand, warned him that he'd be booted out of the Association altogether if he let another threat slip away.]
no subject
And yet, there's also the chance that handsome stranger will be here. Another curious opportunity that, were he a wiser man, he would ignore and just do what he came here to. He's had a number of successful jobs for lower stakes prizes since that night but this would be a big score, would no doubt pay him enough to let him take his time planning the next big score, and then maybe he could hope Zwei is there too along with his oh so intriguing swordsman to chase him down...
Ugh. A lot of maybes, hopes, and if's. Whatever happens tonight happens, he can daydream about dashing lawmen when he's not already crouched in a hallway shaded by night straining to hear the slightest sound of footsteps.
Unlike the museum this place hadn't been open to the public beforehand, so he had no chance to come in and touch everything he could to learn both the layout and security's positioning. He thinks he's starting to get a hang of how Zwei likes to spread themselves out, though, so it's time to test that theory by doing a few things the old fashioned way.
A ball bearing, small enough to be otherwise inconspicuous but heavy enough to make a noise, is getting carefully tossed around the nearby corner. The plan is, of course, to let any guards within earshot come investigate while he slips by and heads down where they had come from.
But who all will come...? ]
no subject
or
not coming. Approaching, certainly, but only a little; as much as he's intrigued by Akira, if this is just some schmuck trying the oldest trick in the book, then there's no point in wasting the job he's busted ass and lost an arm for.
Instead, Gregor yanks a golden button off his overcoat and flicks it in the direction the ball bearing came from, waiting patiently. It'll either scare off anyone without the stomach for actually being caught, or at least make shit more interesting. And while he waits those few seconds for his gesture to be registered, he's just going to light up and clear his throat. Just waiting, keen and sharp.]
no subject
Trying to peek somewhere even newer than the museum is a risky move, one he'd been avoiding thus far. But maybe a quick look, low to the ground, just to see if he can get a better idea of exactly what kind of person he's dealing with--a real bruiser, someone built more for speed, that sort of thing. Might be worth it. A gloved hand slides carefully along the wall next to him and he lets his eyes slide shut, concentrating on finding a spot within his reach...
...And his eyes snap right back open when he feels something else very, very interesting.
Gregor will wait a few moments undisturbed in his watchful silence, when all of the sudden a strange feeling itches at his flesh and bone palm. Itch, itch, like something's moving across it, and then pulling open.
Should he investigate, he'll find a familiar red eye set in his skin, beaming right up at him. ]
no subject
Ha. You owe me, bucko.
[His name and more besides, probably, but the name'll do. That can come later, after the game; already Gregor's mind is whirling about ways to start that won't completely render the pilfererrrrrr useless, but will get across his response, his chase beginning. Not jamming the cherry of his smoke into the eye, that's too much. The chase ends if the quarry's dead or rendered grievously injured.
Hm.
Depending on how sharp the senses shared between eye and origin are, Akira might feel something stinging in his eyes, but in the sort of way that hurts good, saliva in a scratch. A blunt sting, all over the surface of the eye, gently rough and wet for just a few seconds. And then Gregor's boots start echoing down the hallway, closer, clomp clomp clomp.]
no subject
Out of the shadows darts an arm, all in black just as before, snatching up the discarded button before retreating back into the darkness with a soft tp-tp-tp headed in the opposite direction. ]
no subject
Before he really takes off, he gives one last cursory look behind him, in case Faust's there with that placid disapproval on her face. Nope, coast's clear. Fuck it. Fuck it, life is too short and he deserves a challenge. Gregor lets out a soft little chuff, before turning the corner very normally and politely and
proceeding to break into a sprint, even if his sight's a little hindered by all that shade for a man in black garb to hide within. He's even making a pointed effort to keep his weight in the balls of his feet and the toes of his boots, to try and keep his own sound down just to hear any Akira sounds.]
no subject
One such vending machine sits in the middle of the first fork in the path that's been chosen, barring any of the doors Greg's already passed. Left goes down a hallway more cluttered with possible things to hide behind while the right is a cleaner, straighter shot forward. Straining to listen, there's no telltale sounds of shifting, stepping, or giggling here to go by.
What will our handsome swordsman do...? ]
no subject
He could go down an endless spiral of trying to predict what Akira would think his course of action would be when choosing his path, but he won't. Although the straighter path would be the smarter path for any other thief willing to end this quick, and perhaps for a thief who wanted to really challenge themselves alone, it simply isn't fun, is it?
The fun part is the clutter. The options, the sheer number of cover that he can destroy in search of his quarry. Like a simple little filing cabinet, which he skewers with the zweihander and lifts off the ground, as if he's checking for Akira within or behind it. Is. Is he really going to do this all the way down the hallway?
Yes he is. Though he's careful to aim that huge fucking sword away from anywhere his prey could actually hide, at least away from his vitals at worst.] Come out come out, wherever you are. I gotta get that name of yours, fella.
no subject
Gregor might have an idea if he can feel long fingers sneaking into the pocket keeping his lighter from behind. ]
no subject
And he'll yank it forward and around, in an effort to come face to face with Akira, at least for a few seconds.]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)