[ ♠ ] Bleeding Out « #killjoy »

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

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ｓｏ ｉ ｂａｒｅ ｍｙ ｓｋｉｎ
＆ ｉ ｃｏｕｎｔ ｍｙ ｓｉｎｓ
╭xxxxxxxxxxxxxx╮
welcome to import
and atoms' one on o
ne. in this roleplay
readers must be aw
are of intense feels,
twisted humor, we
apon fetishes, and
two characters tha
t could simultaneou
sly cause the world
to catch on fire an
d laugh while they
watch it burn to th
e ground. sounds lik
e fun, tbh. [xx|xx]
╰xxxxxxxxxxxxxx╯
＆ ｉ ｃｌｏｓｅ ｍｙ ｅｙｅｓ
ａｎｄ ｉ ｔａｋｅ ｉｔ ｉｎ

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

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ｉ'ｍ ｓｏｒｒｙ ｆｏｒ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ
ｏｈ, ｅｖｅｒｙｔｈｉｎｇ
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxｉ'ｖｅ ｄｏｎｅ

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meet the charming one of a kind playboy with one h
ell of a happy trigger finger. you'll hardly every catch
this guy w/o a genuine smile. when the world is goin
g to hell, he'll be the one grinning during the fall. ho
wever, his bipolar disorder splits his personality at th
e worst times into three very different moody ppl.
just jayce. overly jayce. and hardly jayce. oh, man...




avid drinker. sleeps with anything that walks. and ve
ry arguably insane. jayce is the modern example of
a one man train wreck just in time to make impact.
oh yeah, not to mention he killed his best mate...

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metal manipulating megalomaniac
mr. kiss and steal your identity

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◤xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◥

let me introduce myself. jayce holland
atkins porter. don't ask. yes, i'm taller t
han you. 6'3". no, if you want to kiss me
you'll have to reach. heads and tails are
my children. i have a thing against love
but won't hesitate to show you a good ti
me. if i do fall for you, we're both screwed.

◣xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx◢

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[important]

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━━━━ ( Ｉ　ＤＲＡＧ　ＭＹ - ) ━━━━━━━

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daichi akino is one heartless sob. his serious and emotionless attitude is wh
at drives most people to fear him, his gaze humourless and empty. akino
understands full well that you have to work to reach the end of a means, a
nd he's willing to do whatever it takes to reach their destined end. even if
it means destroying the rest of the world in the process. necessary sacrific
es, as he sees it. daichi doesn't hold many outside interests that don't invo
lve wielding a sword or loading a gun. his abilities revolve around his elem
ent, but seeing as he doesn't have a wide emotional vocabulary, controllin
g others emotions has proven to be vital for him
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━━━━━━━━━━━ ( ＣＨＥＳＴ - ) ━━━━━

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[important]

ＤＡＩＣＨＩ　ＡＫＩＮＯ
───────────────────────
element: fire • speciality: emotional manipulation
age: twenty-five • location: mikabuyama; fukushima


Maybe he shouldn’t have left his jacket in the bunker. Then, he wouldn’t be shuddering under the rush of air from the damn air conditioning unit. Would have been hells more comfortable, too. And the jacket would have given him a place to stow away items, push knives and other blades into the inside pockets of the thing. But, no -- now, he had to settle for… this. Daichi picked the bundle of fabric up, turning it in his hands with a frown. It was white, and more importantly, it was Shiro’s. Not his. Had no other jacket to mention, and this was the next best thing. Get the hell over yourself, Akino. So he pulled it on over his head, sticking with the rationality of the thought of I’m not longer cold rather than the it has lace on it. Pushed the hell of his hand against the wall whilst putting his boots on, taking care in lacing them. An odd turn for him -- taking out his usual dark outfit for this… jacket.

Daichi grabbed the knife set off of the end table, strapping it around his hips and tugging his shirt on over it. Turned to grab his dagger, that going in its sheath. His sword was next, the thing carefully propped against the footboard of the bed. Touched the hilt carefully before he grabbed the strap, slinging it over his shoulder. Loved the thing half to death, even though that wasn’t technically his, either. Another one of Shiro’s many things that still littered the place. She’d named the thing, too. Didn’t dare let it off of her person, and there was hardly a second where Daichi saw her without it. Shinigami. That’s what she’d named it. But the second the blade came to Daichi’s possession, he’d changed it to Otoko no ma no megami. Goddess among men.

Set off out the flat once he had everything else in order, shoving the door shut behind him. Had to slam his weight against the door several times in order for the lock to take, shoulder pressing against it for the longest time as he took the key to the top lock. Once finished, he checked the door several times to make damn good and sure that it was locked. After leaving the building, Daichi went straight for the tree line.

It wasn’t the law that Daichi was afraid of, nor the people who enforced the law. It was those who opposed it, those who worked directly against it. Law provided order and peace -- not that Daichi necessarily valued these things, mind you, but it helped him with his own personally charged cause. The presence of law and its enforcers meant that their attention was put elsewhere and as far away from Daichi as he could manage to be from it. Didn’t mean that he would follow the rules, though. Had his own set of them, scrawled across his mind to remind him every step he took that pushed him closer and closer to that damn mountain. But his rules were intended to be broken -- because they weren’t created by him. Rather, his late sister. Gods knew he always forced against any kind of binds that would hold him down from what he wanted to do, so this would prove to be no different here or anywhere else.

His dark eyes flicked from one tree to the next, taking two second intervals between each one before looking to the next. Could have sworn he’d passed this same stretch about fifteen minutes ago. Right? Tilting his head, Daichi reached out to touch the bark of the tree closest to him, eyes narrowing slowly. Should have left a breadcrumb trail, Akino. Should have, would have, could have. Scoffing, he shoved his hand against the trunk, synapses firing in his mind as he channeled that taut string of energy that rested right there, scorching the surface of tree that rested just beneath his hand. Slowly pulled it away, taking note of the shape it left before deciding that yes, this was what he was going to do from here on. Why hadn’t he thought of it sooner? Then, maybe he wouldn’t be half-way lost. Snapped the burst of flame off with a slow hiss, his fingers curling. Still wasn’t terribly accustomed to that part of it. Accessing it, sure, he could do that. But abandoning it? That was much harder.

Akino wasn’t going to the mountain to defy law or spill blood, no. A bit of a more... personally invested interest of his. And he was set on that one goal, didn’t dare bother to look over his shoulder or question anything that didn’t directly affect him. He’d get to where he was going, and he’d do so without causing trouble. Hopefully the rest of the world would respect that.

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: tba] - [element: metal]
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It was dark, and an unsettling breeze began to overtake the skeleton of what used to be a thriving bar deep in the confines of the Neighborhood. A man sat by himself, in the dust, with his elbows propped up against the counter and his fingers laced together impatiently. He'd been waiting in that spot and in that exact position for approximately the better part of an hour now. Oh, how he would have liked to just get up and walk away, never to step foot in this decrepit place again. However, he couldn't do that if he wanted to get paid for his efforts, if you could call sitting in an abandoned bar 'effort'. Well, Irvin Graves sure as hell thought it was. As he began to rock in annoyance, a flash of light caught his eye and his hollowed eyes swiveled so he could make out the silhouette of a man against the bright outside world. It was only when the door closed behind him that Irvin's frown only deepened, "I hope you're aware of how late you are, Atkins." The man who stepped in was all angles and weightlessness. He almost seemed to glide across the floor until he reached the empty bar, only to take his seat and beam at the angry man next to him. "You say that like you expected me to be on time, Graves. I don't work like that." His smile was contagious, and even Irvin's lips found themselves twitching as if they were considering betraying the owner's emotions. Eventually, Jayce heard the man sigh next to him and watched his shoulders relax. That was good. Jayce never wanted somebody to be tense around him as it only made a conversation less enjoyable.

Not that a conversation with Irvin was enjoyable, however. On the contrary, Jayce thought the man was a bit of a rat, and he knew that your hide wasn't safe if a few bucks were involved. You'd sooner wake up with a knife in your back than you would gain anything by trusting this man. However, where you had backstabbing snakes, you had a well paying job and information. And it was information that Jayce was after. Unfortunately, to get that specific information, he was to remain a borderline trained wolf in the hands of people like Irvin. "So," Jayce chirped, "You sure you want me all the way over in Japan? It'd be harder for you to keep your eyes on me. And you know that there's plenty of well rounded fire elementalists here in America. I can name twenty off the top of m-" Irvin wasted no time in stopping Jayce in his tracks, holding up a finger and causing the shadows in the bar to flicker threateningly. Yes. Threateningly. It was a well known fact that Irvin had the ability to strangle petty annoyances with his shadows. If anything, Jayce found the man's power interesting, but he didn't really feel like nursing a bruised neck so he hushed up obediently. "That is true, but this one is exceptionally powerful. Probably one of the most powerful fire users in the world. Townsend Industries (I'd messed up on who owned the weapons plant in drowsiness, not Porter.) wants him, which is a good enough reason for you to fetch him, no questions asked. Now, you'll be using Townsend's personal yaht-"

"YES!" Jayce threw his hands up in the air and cheered his excitement at the news. He may hate the company, or at the least, distrust it, but Jayce Atkins sure did love that man's yahts and other personal modes of transportation. Irvin opened his mouth in annoyance and closed it again, finally smiling with thin lips. They spent the rest of the afternoon briefing Jayce on where to go and what to do when they got there. Jayce certainly hadn't been on a job like this before, but it wasn't something he'd be unable to execute to the dime. He killed people. That's just what he did. And Jayce left the human trafficking to people who couldn't kill people the way he could. However, apparently Jayce matched this other man in skill. Oh, there was one more thing as well. This Daichi Akino fellow had been a soldier once upon a time. The sharpshooter was no longer in the bar as he scuffled along the streets of this old town he'd left behind. There was a dark storm hovering over the homes and business, and Jay could feel it settle in like a poison. He'd grown up here, and he always knew he'd come back despite wanting to be rid of it completely. He never could quit smoking, as the cigarette in his hands hinted quite obviously. He still slept with a new partner every other night to keep with the monotonous routine. His alcohol tolerance was unrivaled except for only a small few. He'd learned and picked up all of these bad habits when he was young enough to know what abandonment felt like. In a place like this, the bad things take seed early, and you had a lot of kids growing up broken. That's just the way it's always been. Jayce had been no exception to a crappy life, but he was different from other people. Happy. Jayce was pretty damn happy just being alive.

From the streets, Jayce moved to the docks. From the docks, the yaht. And from the coast of California, Jayce was taken to the coast of Japan. The job was estimated to take about two days at the most. It all came down to how quickly he was able to track his contract down and what happened when he found him. There was a man that came out, holding out a case which Jayce practically stole away with a hiss. There was one more briefing which Jayce had shut out for the time being. His main focus was on opening the case and melting at what lie inside. "Well, hello you two. Did you miss me? I missed you," he began to mutter as he trailed a finger over the black Beretta 92fs. There was a silver one settled right next to it, and together, they looked the most beautiful pair of twins this world would allow. The sharpshooter threw both Heads and Tails into the holsters at his hip and while the Townsend Industries man was still talking, Jayce was walking. Walking away, to be more specific. He was done with these people. He had his guns and he had his target. What else could possibly be said at this point?

Give or take a couple hours later, Jayce was moving based on what information he'd been given. When it came to these sorts of jobs, Jayce was simply the best there was, and he'd found the target's living spaces within a reasonable amount of time. All he had to do was wait for any sort of activity. The sun had been quite low in the sky when he picked his perching spot, about a quarter mile away from Daichi's residence. Daichi? Akino? He rolled his eyes, having no clue what he ought to call the man. For now, he figured that he should just name him what he was - Target. You wouldn't give a name to a dog if you weren't planning on keeping it now, would you? No. So Target became his name despite how amusing it was that he could also go ahead and say that he was naming this man after a large super store chain in America, who's mascot just so happened to be a dog. A flash of movement caught Jay's unrivaled attention, and his brown gaze cut into the man that was stepping out of his house. There seemed to be quite a struggle with the door, and Jay's small little smile betrayed the amusement he felt as he witnessed this. Also. What the hell is he wearing? That was not important, however. What was important was him staying far enough away so he could easily take this man out with. Because he wasn't killing the target, he didn't need his rifle or anything else of the matter. He'd need this shot to be up close and personal so he could go in and take custody as soon as possible.

Target began to take him away from civilization and Jayce couldn't believe his luck. Well, scratch that. He could most definitely believe his luck as Jayce was usually a very lucky man. Sure, bad things happen to him all the time, but if he were to focus on all the bad things, he'd have offed himself in high school. And Jayce was no good to anybody dead. So instead, he decided to just be happy and live a life where regrets were just an imaginary concept. No guilt? No pain. Simple. It was when the ventured into the woods that Jayce had a bit harder time tracking the fellow. The trees did an excellent job in obstructing the sharpshooter's view, and he had to revert to his skills in tracking just to keep up. However, somewhere along the way Jayce began to smell hints of burnt wood, and it took a minute to realize that Target was leaving him a trail to follow. "Awe, babe. That's so sweet of you," he smiled, his finger brushing against the charred bark. When enough distance had been made between them and civilization behind them, Jayce decided that it was time. He'd sped up his pace enough until he was able to make out the man's form against the thick foliage. Atkins had two options right now. He could either do this efficiently... or fun. Efficiency meant that he would take his shot from and not risk all that danger of talk and opposition. However, doing things the fun way would appeal to his boredom, which at the moment, was at an all time high. So, with his mind made up, he decided to go for a little bit of both. The man brought out his gun, keeping the embodiment of silence, raised the pistol, and sang a little song in his head. Head, shoulders, knees and toes. Knees and toes. On the second reiteration, he'd lined up his shot, aiming it at one of those body parts. When he came back around to the word 'shoulder', Jayce smirked as he pulled the trigger. "Oh no!" he shouted and raced forwards with a grin on his face. The American stepped out from the forest and stopped in front of the Japanese male, his lips curled into feigned guilt. As soon as he could Jayce pulled up Tails and aimed it directly at Target's forehead, "So sorry, but don't move a muscle and I won't either. I'm afraid you're going to have to come with me. Name's Jayce Atkins. Otherwise known as the guy who probably just wrecked your life. Nice to meet you."

[important]

ＤＡＩＣＨＩ　ＡＫＩＮＯ
───────────────────────
element: fire • speciality: emotional manipulation
age: twenty-five • location: mikabuyama; fukushima


Out of all of his years of experience and field training, Daichi should have known that he was being trailed. And it wasn't like whoever it was made it inconspicuous, either. Occasionally, the woods would fall silent when his follower finally decided to pick up their feet. Daichi applied every other field procedure he could think of -- save for the most vital one. Light steps? Check. Neutral shades? Got that. Taking advantage of the foliage present? Absolutely. But looking of his shoulder or confronting whoever was tailing him? Didn't bother. Mostly because Daichi had grown used to it with the law enforcement officers constantly on his ass to make sure no more bodies dropped at his feet, dead or otherwise. Akino long learnt to ignore them.

But this wasn't a law enforcement officer, no. It hit him, the realisation, the second he heard the not far-off click of a gun. Had grown used to that sound, but he still put himself on high alert. Touched the hilt of one of his many throwing blades, palming it.

Then the bullet.

He'd been shot before. Nothing new -- but gods be damned if it didn't hurt. His shoulder jerked in surprise -- they actually shot? -- which was a bad move on his part. The bullet didn't tear clean through, no; instead lodging itself in his flesh, clinking against his bone as he stumbled. Nearly hit the ground, too, taking a brief knee before righting himself and slowly turning. He'd taken to hiding the knife behind his back -- until he saw the barrel of the gun pointed right between his eyes, at least. Daichi's gaze flicked up, the man's jaw clenching as he winced. Ignored the stabs of pain that radiated out from his shoulder. Skin had been pushed back, muscle ripped, torn, and shredded. Could still feel the heat of the bullet as blood welled, flooding to the wound and staining Shiro's jacket. A bloom against white. Blood on snow. And Daichi growled, low, threatening, in his throat.

Akino dropped the knife, likely against all better judgement, but he didn't need to give this man another reason to shoot him. He quite liked all of his body parts and extremities intact, thank you.

Nothing. If the eyes were the windows to the soul, then his gave a clear picture of the thoughts that circled him. Deadpan, emotionless, calculating, dangerous. All of death's potential locked behind even darker lashes. He snapped his eyes up -- hated having to do that, looking up -- and bared his teeth at the newly introduced Jayce Atkins. Akino knew that he shouldn't give people like that his name, but he'd been shot for a reason, right? This Atkins guy likely already knew his name.

"Akino Daichi." He paused, letting his eyelashes flutter as pain kept striking through his system. Could have grabbed his sword, slain the man -- Jayce, was it? -- where he stood. But that would require twisting his arm back to retrieve it. And luckily enough for Mister Jayce, he'd taken out Daichi's dominant hand's corresponding shoulder. Which ultimately meant no sword; no anything. "The pleasure is all mine." Oh, Daichi even kept his niceties intact! You're welcome, stranger. "May I ask where you'll be taking me, Mister Atkins?" Maintained politeness and civility, even with a bullet in his shoulder. Maybe if he was good enough, Jayce would bind the wound he'd made! Where another man would have sneered, Daichi snarled instead, flames rippling over his hands and across the bullet wound in some vain effort to staunch the blood flow.

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: tba] - [element: metal]
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Jayce's smile twitched, and he narrowed his eyes a bit as he took this human in. Christ, he was small. Or maybe Jayce was just freakishly tall. Julian would go ahead and testify the latter, and the thought almost made Jayce laugh. Almost. He was way too busy judging his dear Target to do anything other than smile. Jayce didn't have to be a medical expert to understand that Target was in quite a lot of pain. Should Jayce even call him Target anymore? From the looks of it, this pitiful specimen was more of a Cargo sort of guy, now. Jay 'tsked' and took a careless one or two steps forward, pressing the cold barrel of Tails into the pale skin of the other's forehead. He leaned in a bit and smirked, then, "Oh come on, I shot you in the shoulder little woofer. You can't honestly be down for the count, can you? Where's that spark I read about?" He was aware that getting closer to your opponent was a careless thing to do, but Jayce had always been a careless man. There was no head of authority here, yelling orders in his direction. So Jayce did things his own way. Naturally. However, Jayce felt that he didn't want to be surprise attacked by a burst of flames so he did himself a favor and stepped back an inch. He was wondering why Townsend would want this power holder of all people. Japan. Atkins had taken a yaht all the way to Japan, and the trip had not been as luxurious as he would have liked. He'd suffered from motion sickness since he was a little kid.

This guy had better be worth the countless lunches spewed gracelessly into the ocean.

Jayce cleared his throat and held up a finger as a gesture for the man to hold on for a second. He winked as the hand not holding a pistol shuffled around for a cell phone. The hand with the gun was still pointing at Cargo's chest, ready to go off at a second's notice. Hey, this guy could completely go in peacefully and everybody would be happy. Well, to be honest, Jayce would have been happier if this contract had been a challenge. But the sharpshooter with the devil's grin wasn't ruling out that the Japanese male could end up being a struggle somewhere along the line. His eyes shifted lazily over the phone but sighed when there showed to be no service. That was quite a disappointment. He hoped that Townsend's men didn't mind the silent treatment. To be perfectly honest, Jayce was relieved that he didn't have to report his current standing with the target. Following these orders were nothing like following orders in the military. I mean, sure, he didn't have to kill as many people now as he used to. And yeah, the pay was pretty impressive if Jayce was a guy that gave a damn about money. But nothing compared to knowing that you'd killed somebody to save somebody. Contrary to popular belief, Jay didn't actually like killing people as a hit man. He didn't even like killing people in general. It was just something he was able to do as easily as he could end up in bed with another warm body.

Jayce slipped his phone back into his pocket and finally acknowledged the man standing in front of him. His golden brown gaze was tilted down at the smaller male, studying the jacket that he was wearing. He hoped it belonged to a girl, otherwise, Jayce would be pleasantly adding insult to injury by teasing the whole way back. Was he allowed to tease the other? Oh, Jesus. Jayce had no idea what to do with this guy. His natural impulse was to befriend anybody he stood next to for more than a couple minutes. Getting to know others had always been a hobby of Jay's, even in high school. He'd always had to be careful because his powers, but there was something fantastic about getting into the heads of every person you meet. Why? Because it was the broken bits on the insides that Jayce thought were beautiful. Habitual curiosity picked at the edges of Jay's desires, but he discarded them for the sake of the job. The job at the moment was getting Cargo from point A to point B with minimal difficulties. The identity thief rubbed his thumb rather thoughtfully against the silver Beretta. "Well, I could lie to you and say I'm taking you out for a night on the town. Or I could go the more honest route and tell you that you'll find out when we get there! Yay! Adventure!"

Jay's smirk danced on his lips and he risked the distance, closing it a bit to get a better look at the shoulder. In the end, he rolled his eyes. It could have been a cleaner shot if his gun had been maintenanced like he'd asked. "Were they not taking care of you, darling?" The man muttered, glancing down at the gun that was pressed, now, into Daichi's side. The bullet had done much more of a number on the man's shoulder than he'd have liked. However, he wasn't about to do anything to stop the bleeding. Not yet, anyways. He poked the area around it, ignoring the fact that Daichi looked like he'd fancy pulling out Jay's heart to eat it angrily. Honestly, such harsh eyes on this guy. It wouldn't do at all if Townsend was planning on selling him off to some military. Cargo would never be bought if he looked as defiant as he looked right now. And trust me, if Townsend Industries wanted you sold, you best not disappoint them. It would be pointless to tell this to the man, however. Jayce probably wouldn't be too happy to have some stranger poking, prodding, and studying him like a prized cow. In the end, he could only look up and regard Daichi with a cocked brow, "Last chance to put up a fight, man. I'll even let you land a free blow if you're feeling it. That's an order."

//yas. okie. im pretty sure its vv short. but i also cant tell because im on mobile. so im sorry if it is short~

[important]

ＤＡＩＣＨＩ　ＡＫＩＮＯ
───────────────────────
element: fire • speciality: emotional manipulation
age: twenty-five • location: mikabuyama; fukushima


Daichi's head was tilted to the side, eyes burning a hole straight through Jayce's torso. If looks could kill and he'd been gifted with that power rather than this useless one, oh... Snapped his head down this time, concentrating on trying to flesh out and piece together emotions. It was hard -- picking up on emotions that you didn't own yourself. Ones that didn't belong to you and ones that you had no right holding. And Akino saw every last one of them, like a whole bloody dictionary. A-Z. A is for anger... The corners of his lips curled upwards into a smirk, but it was far from good natured. Ill-will and ill-intent, that was who he was. Thumbed through the index, finally flicking his eyes shut when he found it. At ease, soldier. And Daichi implemented the feeling into the man, forcing a sense of satisfaction, relaxation, and ease over the man. Because if Jayce wasn't hyper aware, then the easier it would be for Daichi to do his thing. And that may or may not integrate his sword. My choice.

Until Jayce took a step closer to Daichi, the man slamming that metaphorical dictionary shut and lifting his head, eyes narrowed and chin up in defiance. Go on. It wouldn't hurt to come closer. But, oh, before he could even make up his mind as to what to do to the man, Jayce had decided against it and taken a step back. Out of reach. Not if he used the breeze to his advantage, but what fun was instantaneous destruction? Ultimate destruction -- yes, that was what he was after. But he didn't want it to be a rush of all at once. Pieces at a time, slowly, one by one. In, push, out, push. Work each individual out and tear them apart from inside out. Beautiful.

But, but. Read about? That one kept playing over and over in his mind, Daichi unable to let that go. So that put the finger on it, decided just about everything right down to the bone. Jayce had been sent here, after him by name. How long had this Atkins guy been tracking him, tracing him, getting used to Daichi's routine? "You knew I'd come here," he murmured, then furrowed his eyebrows. That, or... "You watched me leave." Lifted his head, shoulder twitching as his fingers flexed, causing a flash of pain to bring that spark of rage to die down. Don't lash out. You have a gun to your head, Daichi. Oh, but they needed him alive. And if Daichi were to die, then Jayce would fail. Right? Right. So Daichi tapped into that well of energy, that well of power -- flicking out his (non-dominant) wrist, flames erupting from the tips of his fingers as the thoughts kept striking him, one after another. Yes yes yes.

Snarled when Jayce had the audacity to touch him, especially slow close to his wound, Daichi yanking his body back as fire curled around the proximity area of his body, fists clenched. Hated it, hated the pain, but most of all, hated the fact that he'd let this man take him down. It never should have been able to come down to that. Never should have happened because Daichi should have looked over his god damned shoulder for once in his life and check to see. But he didn't, and now look where he was. He placed his hand on the wound, pressing his palm against it and tipping his head back. Wanted to kill the man in front of him for leaving him like thi-- His thoughts snapped off almost immediately at the last part of Jayce's sentence, Daichi's posture straightening automatically. Shoulders back, chin up, soldier. Took him a considerably long time to realise that, no, he wasn't on the field, and this man was a stranger and absolutely nobody. He wanted Daichi to lash out against him? Wanted him to hurt him?

And the gods know you can't say no to orders, Akino. So just kneel and follow them. Let his eyelashes flutter before he loosened his hold on the wound, hissing at the growing tacky blood that now stained his hands. See, if he'd had his own jacket, he wouldn't be in this mess. He would have had everything necessary to save his own ass with. Speaking of jackets. Akino dipped his chin, slowly taking the white piece of clothing off, careful in peeling it away from his wounded shoulder. Dropped it to the ground (after much hesitation), turning his eyes back to Atkins. "You want me to hurt you." Wasn't a question. Just confirmation. That way, when Daichi would follow through and Jayce decided to be a little b**** about it, Daichi could only throw a 'you asked for it' in his direction. Daichi stretched out his wounded arm, making sure that its rotation was at least somewhat okay before taking another blade into his hands, lifting his head but not his eyes. Wouldn't use flames against him. Not because he didn't want to kill him (because he did), but because he considered that low. Cheating, almost. Then, he smiled.

But Daichi's smile wasn't warm, no.

The fire element took a step back before drawing his arm back (just enough to where he'd wince but not cry out in pain), then flicked his wrist forward, letting the knife fly. Its target? Jayce's shoulder. An eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, life for a life.

[ omg no no no you're perfect it's perfect ]

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Jay watched Daichi with a certain amount of vigilance that he wouldn't spare on anybody. See, the longer he interacted with the other, the easier it was to see the monster that curled and writhed beneath his skin. He could feel this creature's enmity directed at him... while... while Jayce sort of just relaxed. You would think that he would be bouncing off the walls, right now. After all, Jayce always got jittery and felt his blood spin at miles per minutes whenever he shot somebody. Was that weird? He imagined that many people experienced some sort of similar reaction. Maybe they weren't so openly ecstatic about bullets tearing into their targets, but there was a rush that came with shooting a gun. He'd known this rush ever since he was old enough to have his father hold a gun in his hand. Alright, maybe the rush had been more prominent the first time he was able to hold the gun himself and pull the trigger. His father had cheered. And Jayce had started crying because the noise had hurt his ears. However, each day he held the gun, he grew more thirsty for that bone-rattling eruption of sound. The shock of getting pushed back against pure force into a father's watchful grip. He would grow up to be the master of a rifle and a slave to the trigger. If only his daddy could have seen him now. Jayce had to blink the distraction of old memories out of his head. He had no reason to know why he was so docile and distracted. But when he became aware of the way Daichi was looking at him, gaze dark and calculating, Jayce understood.

The shooter scoffed, "You should really get that door lock fixed. It would be a bit of a shame if somebody were to come after you and you were unable to lock it in time." He offered that as an answer to the allegation that Jayce had been watching him, dipping his head respectively. His eyes flicked over the charge, and he neglected to say anything for a while. He could see the man's mind twitching like clockwork. He could feel the resentment. He could taste the hatred in the air that swallowed the two of them. Just.. what goes on in that head of yours, I wonder? Man, if he didn't have to take this man in, he'd love to get into his mind instead. Who knows, he could have spent a night with him in some universe and get all he needed to know in one encounter. It would have been just as simple as shooting him in the shoulder had been. But no. He had to stop sleeping with the people he was charged to kill. I mean, sure, if he'd been allowed to put the bullet through his head instead of his shoulder, he would have already been trying to get him in bed. He liked to know the people he killed, and the faces of those who'd fallen by his hand were fresh in his mind. His power gave him a photographic memory so he could call on the tiniest of details when assuming somebody's identity. Sure, he could catch glimpses of who his victims were after they were dead, but they were only surface memories. Names. Ages. Maybe the occasional face of a family member. But he also had a chance of receiving twisted memories, inaccurate figments of a brain gone inoperable. No. He didn't rely on the identities he picked up when the heart had gone still. But when the heart was racing... Oh, that was a different story, entirely. A story not fit to relay in the ears of children.

However, Daichi was his first victim to be taken back with a still-beating heart. So, unfortunately, Jayce could only imagine what he could find in the man's head. No matter. It seemed that Jayce was correct in assuming that Daichi still had the blood of a soldier coursing through his veins. It was the same blood that Jayce had in his own veins. It was the same blood that had been spilled for a country he was slowly turning his back on. He wouldn't be Jayce Atkins if he wasn't turning his back on something, right? Family. Exes. An entire town of people that would have directly benefited from him taking over his stepfather's pharmaceutical company instead of running off to join the military. What can I say, he was an expert in his trade. Jayce's lips picked up in a challenging manner when Daichi confirmed his side handed order. Trained, Jayce was. Trained to make out even the slightest flick of movement his opponent made. Years of combat training had honed his observatory skills, and Jay's brows flicked upwards, matching Daichi's cold smile with one of his own. And what was Jay's smile like? He liked to think that it was careless - effortless. It was equal amounts warm and indifferent as he waited for this man to make his move. But what, oh what, would Daichi choose to do? Looking down at his hand, Atkins caught the chilling flash of metal. Mistake.

As the knife flicked through the air, Jayce brought up his hand and seemed to follow the path of the blade with his a sniper's watch. It cut through the air in slow motion to the man who stood, dauntlessly, it its path. When Jayce pulled control of the metallic blade, its path halted less than a milometer away from his shoulder and simply hung there, suspended in mid air with nothing but Jay's mind holding it. Slowly, it spun around like an object rolling through zero gravity space. Jayce held out his free hand, just beneath Daichi's knife. With a quick thought, the weapon dropped into Jay's hand and he smoothed his finger over the cold metal. "Sorry, that was my bad. I forgot to warn you about my uncanny affinity for metal. That throw looked like it hurt that arm of yours, yeah? Well," he grinned like the Cheshire Cat and shook his head, "I'd hate for you to be embarrassed. If it were anybody but me, you'd have shot that straight through my shoulder. Beautiful, that throw. But it's not about the knife throw. You could have used those flames, but didn't. I guess I owe you." Jay's expression turned almost manic as he plunged the knife into his own shoulder as if he'd never stopped the blade in the first place. His smile fell off his face as he grit his teeth in pain. Yes, Jayce didn't find pain something to smile about, no matter how crazy he was. But when he pulled the knife back out, Jayce controlled his breath and examined the crimson of his blood against the metal. And just like that, he lifted it with his powers and sent it flying away through the forest with the speed of a bullet. "I hope you didn't have a fondness for that blade. But I would be a pretty awful hit man if I let you carry around weapons. They could hurt somebody..."

Now that Jay's shoulder was also bleeding, he figured that now would be an excellent time to take this show on the road. The grimace on his face said this well enough. At least his wound was clean and would be easy to stitch... that is, if he didn't get slowed by the loss of blood. He wasn't entirely concerned though. If his own wound got too bad, he could alter his biological make up with his other set of powers. Just one of the many perks of being able to completely manipulate your identity. He couldn't heal his wounds completely, but he could speed up and alter his own genetic code. Sooner than later, his own wound would patch itself up as long as he focused on his own identity. "Enough playing, it's time to go," despite having just stabbed himself on purpose, Jayce wore a smug grin. It didn't matter that Jayce was wounded. He'd won that interaction fair and square, and by catching that knife and turning over complete control to himself, he'd delivered a very powerful message to his little hiking buddy. And the sharpshooter was convinced that Daichi understood it completely. Jayce was in control, with no intentions of losing it. With his healthy shoulder, he lifted Tails' aim and flicked it in the direction they'd come, "After you. If you'll be so kind as to take me to the coast? I need you alive, so if you're cooperative, I'll see what I can do about that shoulder of yours. And if you're not a team player... I'll see what I can do about your other shoulder."

[important]

ＤＡＩＣＨＩ　ＡＫＩＮＯ
───────────────────────
element: fire • speciality: emotional manipulation
age: twenty-five • location: mikabuyama; fukushima


Daichi turned his eyes back in the direction where he'd initially came from, towards his home. It was the only thing he had left, really, was that little room. Relics from another life, another time, another person littered the place, Daichi occasionally taking one up and trying to remember the story behind it. The still full luggage bag propped against the wall beside the door, waiting for someone to grab it before they left. The pictures, featuring two women laughing together. The closet in the main and only bedroom that was full of weapons -- guns, knives, and ammunition. The missing door that led from that same bedroom to the main hall, it discarded in the other room, against the wall. Each misplaced and irregular item held something, a memory. And Daichi wasn't about to fix a lock in fear of altering the memory. "The door's fine," he responded, shooting a glare of warning to the taller male. Wouldn't dare change it for the world. Grinned, though, when Jayce's head dipped to him. Progress. However small. And maybe he shouldn't have done that, altered Jayce's perceptiveness. But, well. In this world, you live or you die. And Daichi wasn't going to allow himself to be affiliated with the latter of the two groups.

Maybe it was unfair to Jayce, but the man had told him to do it. One free shot, those were his words. And, well, who was Daichi if he wasn't to comply? Despite everything that touched upon his personality -- Daichi was a slave to orders. Looked to them, followed them. And if he didn't match them to a T, then he wouldn't stop until he did. And the fire element had put his target straight, despite his shoulder screaming at him and begging with him to stop, stop, stop and to just let it go. But, no. Orders. And he threw right. But it stopped. Right there, right above Jayce's shoulder. A muscle feathered in his jaw as anger coursed through his tired and in-pain mind, wanting answers. "You told me--" he cut himself off, fists curling as rage stormed through his mind. Who the hell did he think he was? An affinity for metal, Jayce called it. So it seemed not only had he been gifted a personal hitman who had a target right between Daichi's eyes, but now he had a man who could stop his own blades in their tracks. Great.

His uninjured arm pulled back, hand knocking against the scabbard of his sword. Otoko no ma no megami. The blade of it was black, and forged out of folded spring steel. Hard, fast, flexible, strong. The tsuba, perhaps his most favourite piece, was copper -- in the shape of snakes writhing around each other. The kashira, menuki, and habaki were also copper, bearing the same designs. Left the seppa plain copper. The tsuka wrap was leather for grip, wrapped in black leather with an equally black samegawa in the katate-maki wrap manner. Even held a blood groove running along the length of the blade. And Daichi loved that sword -- mostly because it wasn't his. And he pulled it with his non-dominant hand, twirling the handle between his fingers before narrowing his eyes.

"I don't need them," he told him, slow. Punctuated each word in regards to Jayce's suggestion of Daichi sticking to his fire rather than traditional weapons. I don't need them to win. But before Daichi had a chance to strike, Jayce had shoved the dagger into his own damn shoulder. Daichi angled backwards as he watched Jayce's expression, carefully assessing it. Was hurt an emotion? No? Guess it was more of a physical thing. But it did trigger something in the brain, a chemical of some sorts. Whatever. He'd figure it out one day. But not for this guy, his own shoulder throbbing and occasionally pushing blood out when he'd move a certain way. Daichi watched the blade exit the wound, then proceed to fly off into the trees. No, no, no. He still had five others, mind you, but he didn't dare tell Jayce that. Instead, stared at the trees where his blade had just disappeared. Oh, no. That was his baby. Daichi turned to face Jayce, his expression showing his anger and hurt over the loss of his weapon. "You take my sword and I'll make you suffer." Wouldn't give him the pleasure of death if he did. promptly pushed the sword back into its scabbard, glancing back to the trees. Oh, oh, oh...

Daichi pointed to Jayce's two guns, lifting his eyes. "Get rid of them. Put them away." If Jayce wanted to threaten Daichi, he could at least do so in a more conventional manner. You're going to need more than a gun to control me, his thoughts snarled, trying to bite and lash out from the back of his mind. But the more reasonable piece of him knew that Jayce didn't need a gun to take control. Daichi let his eyes flick to the wound, a brief flicker of a grin gracing his face as he examined Atkin's matching wound. Snapped his eyes back up and to Jayce when told that it was time to get a move on. No more superficial wounds to pass around the table? Ah, come on, Mister Atkins. You're no fun. Daichi pulled back to where he was behind the taller male, eyes watching that damn gun as he pointed with it. "The coast is the other way." Turned on his heel, pointing east. "East side." Turned west. "West." Judging from Jayce's accent, he'd want to go east. Back to his precious United States of America. The promise of having his shoulder looked at was what made him comply this far, Daichi stooping to pick up the jacket. Tore off the sleeve and tore it again at the seam, tying it around his own shoulder in some hopes that it would stop the blood flow until they got to where ever Jayce was taking them. Tied it tightly enough, to where it would stop blood. Couldn't feel his arm, now. But necessarily sacrifices.

Daichi turned his head, holding out the jacket to Jayce in case he wanted to make use of the other sleeve. Daichi took the one that already had his own blood on it, now -- didn't want to stick Jayce with the blunt end of the sword, so to speak. How nice of me. Kept his eyes turned east, not looking at Jayce. Wasn't terribly dependent on the man, now, so he began walking -- not bothering to look over his shoulder to make sure that he was following. If Atkins wanted to get to the coast so bad, he'd follow and he'd catch up.