[ ♠ ] Bleeding Out « #killjoy »

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
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Jayce ended up poking his own shoulder and frowned when the surrounding area stung at the touch. He could almost hear Carmen now, her exasperated disposition she adopted whenever he did impulsively stupid things. He really did feel a bit bad for stopping Daichi's blade like he did. Not that he'd show it, but he felt even worse for discarding it somewhere in the forest. Jayce wasn't really a bad guy, but he was efficient when it came to following orders and contracts. The less weapons his cargo had on him, the better this transition would be. So, with an easy disposition, he regarded Daichi cautiously and shrugged, "Don't use your sword, and I won't have to take it." Then he smiled again, calm despite the fact that he wasn't fond of the venom in his contract's eyes. Who would be? However, he did look down at the subject of Daichi's command. Proposition? Why would Jayce put them away? He certainly didn't hear a please after that statement. The sharpshooter narrowed his eyes playfully, and a softer laugh escaped his lips. Daichi was definitely going to be one hell of a handful for Atkins. That was alright, though. He liked a challenge, even if most of the challenge remained to be seen. However, because he didn't see the use for Tails any longer, he whispered a goodbye to the girl and slipped her back into the holster at his hip.

After he started walking, all confidence and carelessness, Jay stopped when Daichi corrected his directions. Directions. Those were something Jayce were awful at complying with. When he wasn't getting drunk, getting laid, or getting off on killing some poor b**t**d, Jay was getting lost. Sure, he used the sun in the morning and the evening, but he never bothered when it was high enough in the sky that he actually had to work to figure out East and West. So, the man dipped his head gratefully and turned to head the direction that Daichi had so generously pointed out. One step. Two steps. Three- Oh for Christ's sake... what now? The man sighed and turned around as soon as he realized Daichi wasn't following. "Listen... I'll take Tails back ou- Oh..." Atkins fell silent and his gaze turned thoughtful when Daichi held out the other sleeve for him. Why? If I'm the worst mercenary, you must be the worst prisoner. With no answer to the question in his head, he was left majorly confused. Small gestures. Small gestures said a lot about people whether they wanted them to, or not. He held the white jacket in his hands, brows furrowed as he looked at the feminine article of clothing. He almost felt like he shouldn't be touching it, but since Daichi had offered - he copied the other and wrapped it around his arm to staunch the blood flow. Numb. Just as numb as ever.

With no clue what to do with the rest of the jacket, he simply held onto it as his long strides caught up to the stranger ahead of him. "Question," he announced, matching the other's pace and finding once again that it was difficult to keep alongside other people. His legs were abnormally long and Daichi... was small. Pretty damn small. "Does this belong to your girlfriend? Wife, perhaps? The file didn't mention any other immediate family. But sometimes they just neglect to add the information to make it easier on the conscience for people like me. If so, would you like to say goodbye?" He was being completely serious, here. He knew it was unconventional, and he was being his idiotic self by suggesting it. However, he also had a feeling that Daichi didn't have somebody back home in that house with the mangled lock. Either way, Jayce would be able to get something from this question. Even if his contact chose to remain silent. Because, as Jayce knew from experience, silence was very often quite telling.

The forest was quiet, and if you paid little attention to the shoulders of the two males walking through it, you'd have thought they were on a casual stroll. You'd have especially thought this if you looked at Jay's expression. He was very close to whistling a small little tune of a song he couldn't recognize. However, the silence of the forest warranted that he keep quiet and let Daichi do some of the talking for once. He rather doubted this was the sort of man who'd be doing a lot of talking, though. That was a shame as they'd be stuck together for quite some time on the ship. Three days if all things went well. Six if they didn't. They were taking a ship for the sole purpose to transport Dai easier. Planes, while obviously faster, are much more of a hassle to get people through customs. "You know," Atkins finally spoke up, voice strangely optimistic despite the knife wound in his shoulder, "I've been to a lot of places. Never Japan though. Which is a shame, because this forest is beautiful. Er- do you want this back?" He lifted a brow and gestured to the white jacket that was still in his hand. Yes. He wasn't entirely sure what to do with it. He already felt a hint of empathetic guilt for getting rid of the knife. Jayce knew what it felt like, losing a weapon and he had to assume that Daichi's knives were irreplaceable. "Sorry. About your knife. And... you know, this whole awkward situation." Jayce rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish grin, rolling his eyes as they walked. Yes, he was sunshine walking next to a storm cloud.

[important]

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


Was still nursing the hurt of the loss of that blade. Let his fingers brush against the belt of the other five, covered by his shirt. Wasn't going to let those go so easily. He needed to get some different blades, especially if he was going to be staying in the company of this Atkins guy for an extended period of time. Metal. Huh. Who would've thought? Almost all of his weapons -- metal. Gods, this sucked. Which meant that Jayce could easily turn all of his own weapons on him, and... he'd be left with nothing but that damnable fire. And he didn't want to be left with just that. Because, again. cheating. It wasn't fair to anyone that he faced, and he didn't want to have to rely on that to make his enemies understand that he could own them. And what better way to strike fear into someone by showing them that you didn't need an auxiliary power to own them? There was nothing better, that's what.

His head was tilted, observing the woods around him to make sure that no other mercenary would be jumping out of the woods here soon. When Jayce made his voice present again, Daichi didn't speed up, instead letting Jayce linger alongside him in their walk. A girlfriend? He pulled his lip back, eyes flicking away. He'd only ever been with one woman before -- Khitam. But he would never consider her his girlfriend, no. Never exactly loved her. But she'd been taken by Shiro's bullet, and, and... "They wouldn't." Wouldn't mention the dead. But, no. The jacket wasn't Khitam's. It was his sister's. But, he was given the choice of going back. Daichi lifted his head, stopping in his walking altogether to turn to look behind him. "Can I?" There was no-one to say goodbye to. No-one there, no-one left. His sister died almost two years ago. But he wanted the picture, the one that was sitting on the end table next to the bed. Wanted it, and he wouldn't let Jayce tell him no in regards to it. "But, to answer your question," he turned to Jayce, expression oddly unreadable, "it's my sister's, the jacket is." Not was. Maybe his alteration of tense would help him get his argument across, trick Jayce into thinking that Shiro was still alive and that he still had someone to bid farewell.

It was Jayce's tone of voice that made Daichi's eyes snap back to him, flicking over his person for a brief moment before leaving again, going back to the trees. "Would you like a formal welcome? A tour?" Only stopped at the last part of Jayce's words, turning back and holding up his hand when the jacket was mentioned. Stopped, head turning slowly before he finally shook it. "No. Just throw it." Like you did with the knife. What's stopping you now? Sneered a bit at that one, waving the jacket away to further show that he didn't want it. Just that picture. And his knife. Jayce had the audacity to smile, even if it was apologetic and and a 'whoops, sorry i botched up' kind of smile. That caused Daichi to exhale rather loudly, but otherwise, didn't against it. Despite every thought screaming at him to shove the guy against the nearest tree and make sure that he knew who would be in charge from here on out. But, no. "You shot me, Atkins." How did you forgive that? Touched the fabric that was around the room, it now stained red. "The knife," he finally grated out, jabbing his finger out towards the woods, "inexcusable." Wouldn't let it go. Wouldn't. "You could have let me off with a warning, Atkins. You did not have to throw it out." Because, dammit, those were his knives -- not Jayce's! He had no right to do away with them.

[ look at how short this is i'm so sorry ]

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
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Jay watched Daichi carefully - watched him trail his finger over the remaining knives in his belt. He was a master of metal. He could easily sense the weapons concealed by the man's shirt. Jules would have bit Jay's ear off if he knew how careless his partner was being when it came to this job. Julian would always get annoyed by all the small things Jayce did and didn't do. But he had to figure that Mr. Julian Denmark was annoyed the most by the fact that Jay would always come out on top. It was an inexplicable talent of his, getting what he wanted with little to no consequences. Jules luck had never been as great. So Jayce did careless things all the time. He raced cars across the street. He jumped off cliffs before knowing if the water was deep enough. He flicked his fingers through fire just to see if it would hurt. And now, it seemed, he stabbed himself in shoulders with his enemy's knives. How careless could you get? However, he figured that he didn't have to worry too much. Daichi used his knives and his metal. Jayce would use that against him for as long as he knew the other. If everything went well, he wouldn't know this man for much longer. It made him wonder what Townsend Industries wanted with power users. Atkins still wasn't entirely sure why they'd want one like this fire user. He wasn't an expert, but Daichi didn't seem the cooperative type. He'd bet that the other was only being so docile because Jayce had Daichi in a bind, and he knew it.

Jayce had been staring at the ground for quite a while now. He didn't feel like watching Daichi pout and glare at the world. Jayce couldn't afford giving a crap all of a sudden. He would just give a consistent amount of crap throughout this entire deal. Not too much. Not too little. He would stay where he was comfortable, and by no means, would he allow his troublesome compassion for the human race win him over on this one. This stranger wouldn't mean more to him in the end as what he would gain by giving Townsend what he wanted. That was a simple thought to harbor and fall back against. It was all about the end game, and he wouldn't allow himself to care about all the lives he'd ended to get there. That would be silly. And just absolutely counter productive. When the person next to him stopped and spoke up, Jay stopped as well. He eyed the man carefully, finding Daichi's expression to be unreadable. It was strange but Jayce had to wonder what such a stony expression could mean, especially, from somebody who was undeniably his enemy. In the end, the sharpshooter shrugged, rolling his eyes. "You know, they say that making yourself unreadable only allows your partner read you however they'd like. I'm not your partner, but I'll go ahead and claim the pages say 'I'm not being completely honest.'" He sighed and waved his hand dismissively, "And just so you know. Nobody actually says that. But I do. I'll humor you, though. There's no chance you're getting away from me. Not until daddy drops you off at daycare. Come on, take me where you wish."

He was so ready to start walking again. In fact, he'd even gone as far as taking a few progressive steps. It seemed, however, that Cargo had more plans to keep them where they were standing. He almost laughed. At this rate, they'd be lucky to make it to the coast by the time the sun was down completely. The mercenary humored Daichi, but his expression faltered a bit when he was told to toss the jacket. "Well, alright. It's not like I have any attachment to the thing." Almost hesitantly, he just let the clothing fall to the ground. Well, he sure hoped that nature didn't mind being littered with bloody jackets. He then eyed his contract, trying to pick him apart when he was rewarded by quite a few accusations. Yes. Yes, he knew that he didn't have to throw the knife away. He didn't have to do anything. That's what made being himself so great. He didn't ever do anything if he didn't want to do it. And if he wanted to do something, he would. Right now, he'd shut out this man's words as he began to do something that would end up taking a large amount of focus to do. As to not give away the fact that he wasn't paying attention, Jayce kept his eyes open. However, his mind was closed as he began to sense the metal in the forest, picking it all apart by type and quality. If this knife was special enough... which..... he had a feeling it was.. Jayce would be able to... Yes. There. Fido, come.

"I would duck. Just in cas-" his eyes widened as a flash of metal came ripping through the air, cutting straight through a tree (and probably countless more) to get to them. Before it could run through his opponent, Jayce slowed the velocity and a knife halted in the air in front of him. Just like before, he reached out a hand and the blade obediently dropped into it. "Let you off with a warning?" he asked, his head hurting a little after that, "And expect you to just accept that warning? It's your own fault for not knowing your enemy before you attacked them with a throwing knife. No, don't get your hopes up. You'll get this back when I'm through with you." Jayce slipped the knife into his belt, and he smiled just a couple seconds after that. He sort of looked like a dog that just remembered he'd been given a treat earlier, "Heh. I did shoot you, didn't I? You should be honored, getting shot by me. I'm somewhat of a legend back home. Well, don't you have a sister to say goodbye to? And mate, while we're in town, to anybody we meet on the way - I'm just an old friend. Got it? Otherwise you can kiss this knife goodbye forever." After he started walking again, he only spoke to ask a quick question, "It's a nice blade. What sort of metal is it made from?"

[important]

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


It was like a leash, being torn and tied down and at the mercy of this man. Daichi was hurt, and his only hope of life and salvation rested right in Jayce's fingertips. Self-reliance, huh? Right. Collared and chain by something that he couldn't tug against without getting a warning shot to another body part that he valued. Jayce, right now, had control. Owned him. And gods knew what it meant for anyone that tried to cage and box Daichi in. Akino fought back, and he fought back hard. But not now. Not here, not yet. But the thought, that little idea that Jayce needed him alive was enough to keep that spark there, slowly fanned by the growing need for revolting. If you think for one second that this is winning... Bit back the thoughts, head turning away for a second before returning. Daichi lifted his chin finally, allowing the anger to drain from his eyes. Softened them, almost.

Then turned to look at Jayce. Trap, trap, trap. "What would you like to hear, then, Atkins?" Let his lips pull up into a slow grin, not tipping his head up to look at him -- only his eyes. "Yes, thank you so much for asking into my personal affairs," paused, raising a hand, holding up one finger, "let me start by being completely honest with the man who shot me." But, oh! Jayce was agreeing to let them go back! Grit his teeth at the way Jayce put it, though. You don't own me, you don't own me, you don't own me. "Thank you kindly." Spat out that last word, as if it stung him to say it. "And neither do I," Daichi finally snapped, in regards to the jacket that was just dropped. Had to hide his wince, masking it with a hiss instead. What's done is done. Buried. Daichi needed that.

The fire element was just about to turn around and start heading back south, where his house was, before Jayce told him to duck. Didn't waste time dropping when he saw the flash of metal, Daichi's sword drawing in an instant. There were more? Was Jayce striking against him? Ambush, maybe? Then, the knife stopped, right in front of Jayce. And Daichi remembered, but didn't put his sword back, no. Instead, kept watching him, wary, eyes narrowed. "How the hell do you expect me to know an ene-" he was just starting to argue back, but then cut himself off with widened eyes, glaring at Jayce when he told him he couldn't have the blade back. The count is off! Snapped off with a snarl, raising the tip of his sword level with Jayce's face. "If I don't see my blade by the time we get to where we're going, you're going to wish I killed you right here." Not a threat. Daichi didn't threaten. He promised. How the hell was that fair? Jayce had told him that he could have a free shot against him, only for Daichi to take said shot and have his knife taken from him. Clicked his teeth together and scoffed, turning his chin up. "You are not home, Atkins, therefore you are nothing to me and my people." Careful reality check, just to knock Jayce down a couple of steps. Get off that high horse of yours.

"You're an old friend of mine," Daichi repeated, turning away from Jayce and pushing the sword back into its scabbard, grinning, "that will get anyone to believe me." Daichi didn't have friends, and the whole damn town knew that. He began walking again, mind on that knife that had been tucked away into Jayce's belt. Like separating a bear from her cubs. It didn't end well for the one in between the mess. "Steel. Stainless steel. And it's not yours, so don't even think about it." None of them were. If he got his blade back dull or chipped, oh... gods help Jayce. Didn't take him long to hit the tree line again, looking out to that small flat building, pressing a hand to the fabric around his shoulder. "And what if they notice that we're bleeding? Then what?" Improv, genius. Just improv it. You don't want a bullet through your head, now do you? Didn't stop walking, though, continuing out into the road before crossing it to get to the building, quickening his pace to a jog. Akino didn't bother looking behind him before moving up the steps, taking them two at a time before going to his door.

It was yet another ordeal to get it open. Daichi pushed his key into the lock, yanking at the handle to get the old thing to align just right before turning the key. About halfway through the turn, the handle clicked right, Akino cursing and shoving his hip against the door and turning the knob the rest of the way. The lock finally gave, door jerking open. Before the door had a chance to smash against the back wall, Daichi reached out, catching the door and propping it open. Glanced over his shoulder, briefly, before disappearing inside. Didn't care if Jayce followed him in, and knowing him? He probably would. Daichi went straight to the bedroom, tapping the doorway on his way in before picking up the little frame, touching the glass that covered the picture. Two women. Shiro, his sister. The other was Daire. That was Shiro -- and Daichi's -- friend. Shiro was older than Daichi was, her and Daire having been friends before the two girls could even speak. Daichi remembered that Daire had been his first (and, so far? only) friend, both he and Shiro finding it far easier to interact around her. And there was no way in hell he would leave either of them behind to be forgotten. Walked back out into the main room, tucking the picture in his pocket. "I'm ready."

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
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Of course, Jayce hardly acknowledged Daichi's threat, even going so far as laughing. Slowly, the man shook his head, "You think I'll go down easy? No, Daichi, let's get one thing very clear so you don't waste any more of my precious oxygen. You will not be the judge in how I die or lose to the world. Only I get to decide that, got it?" His voice was serious, almost dark. Jayce was easy in quite a few areas. He was easy to get into bed. Easy to influence and imprint your will upon. Easy enough to make him fall in love on multiple occasions. But God, he was not easy to kill. He was not easy to win against. When Jayce had a gun in his hands, he was the devil behind the mask of his never-fading smile. And Daichi would learn this soon enough, especially if he felt the need to threaten him every five seconds. "Now, you'll get the knife if I believe you've earned the knife. It won't do you much good where we're going anyways. And right now, that sword in my face isn't doing you any favors, love. I'd put it away soon." Eventually, Daichi did put the sword away, but Jayce doubted it was because he'd suggested him to. There was a certain amount of exhaustion in Jay's gaze when they started to move again. He rarely slept on solid ground. Putting him on a boat was like begging for a 24/7 Jayce is Awake show. This job wasn't one he'd put up there on his wall of favorites.

"Well, obviously I'm not home. If I were home, I'd be drinking and nobody would know about me then, either," he grinned, his eyes knowing. He said this because Jayce was rarely ever in his own home. I mean, if you spoke about the physical shelter a home entitled. Even still, Jayce was in America for simply months at a time. It was harder to find him in his own city than it would be to find him in South Korea or Mexico. Just... some other country. And when he was in his home town, you'd bet he would be anywhere but that mansion on the top of the hill. He was a constant moving force. His life was too short to be spent doing nothing. When he wasn't sleeping, he was pacing. When he wasn't pacing, he was walking - usually to a bar. When he was walking, well, he was either shooting, gambling, or sleeping with somebody. He was always doing things. That was a fact that had followed him around like a shadow since high achool. To be honest, lots of things followed him out of high school. He'd done his growing up earlier, and now, all he could do was coast through the rest of his life. He chuckled quietly, the thought of them being friends might seem very far off to Daichi, but it was only a matter of time. Jayce was just sort of contagiously easy to get along with. It sure would be interesting, and even he had to admit that a friendship between the two of them was pure fantasy.

So, he didn't say anything as they walked. He sure did think. He thought about a lot of things. He was stuck in his head, wondering again how much more of these soul crushing jobs he could take. He wondered time and time again if Townsend was simply pushing his limits. Seeing how far they could go before Atkins broke and just begged Irvin to spill the beans on where Zeveran was. Every day, the sun rose and fell while Jayce stood just as far away from his goal, now, as he did when he became a mercenary. It wasn't easy. But Jay would hardly find anything worth his time if things were easy. No, no. Life was messy. His was no exception. "Steel? That would explain why it was so easy to find. And, relax, I may be good at manipulting metal but what would I do with a knife. Can you honestly see me dancing with knives? That's your gig, man." Again, Jay's tone was dismissive and tired. He didn't care for knives. It was too quiet of a kill. You could feel the power in a gun. You had to work to find the power in a knife because it was all internal and not in the blade itself. Jayce could respect Daichi for his weapons of choice. But he would never pick close range combat over a simple shot to the head with a pistol. Jay's fighting style was anything but elegant. Instantaneous and nonhesitant. Not to be hindered by conscience.

They eventually made it to the contract's home, and Jayce shifted his gaze this way and that. He smiled in amusement as Daichi struggled with the door. He really ought to have fixed that a long time ago. Man like him? He'd do well to have reliable locks in place. Or maybe the contract was just a man who knew how to deal with twisted and broken things. Perhaps he'd rather live with them than fix them. Jay's smile faltered. That definitely sounded familiar in relations to somebody else he knew. He picked up his brows when the other glanced back at him. Was he supposed to be doing somethin- Then the other disappeared inside and Jay simply smiled, following after silently. There was a sort of silence in this home that weighed heavily on the sharpshooter's shoulders. He knew the feeling well enough. His own home had the same feel to it. The unmistakable feel of death. He was very certain that he wouldn't be saying hi to any sister of Daichi's - not that he'd want to. The mercenary didn't explore the house or follow Daichi around. The only reason he was in here was the simple fact that he didn't feel like waiting outside. Atkins was curious though. And when Daichi came back out, he watched the man slip a photograph into his pocket. The simple gesture left Jayce staring at the man. You came back here for that? With his perpetually leaning frame pressed against the wall, he crossed his arms, "You could have told me it was a memory you were after. I'm a sucker for a good memory. Gotta say, little Thorn in My Side, I didn't take you as the sentimental type." He smirked, pushed himself off the wall, and tipped his head as if to say 'after you'.

//lol, again, mobile life. pretty sure its fine though c:

[important]

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


Knives. His lips twitched upwards in an almost affectionate manner. Bloody loved his blades -- between the knives, the daggers, and the sword, he could live along with these items and be happy for the rest of his life. Didn’t need a gun to take a man down. Guns were too quick. Too easy. You lifted them, you aimed, and you squeezed the trigger. That was it. Done, gone, dead. But with a blade? You were in control of how they died. You moved with the weapon, and you worked with it to deliver the death. The energy that connected Daichi to his blades was one that was entirely unmatched to anything else he’d ever felt. Far different from that burst of flames that stung the back of his eyes, screaming at him to just let go and destroy everything. Far different. This was gave him power, gave him the ability to push himself across his playing field in order to execute. "Guns," he muttered, waving a hand rather dismissively, "They’re unhonourable. Too fast." Mimed holding up a gun, aiming at Jayce’s forehead, and cocking his hand back to symbolise shooting it. "With a blade, this is different," he explained carefully, twisting his body and pushing his fingers out to create a flat hand, like a makeshift blade. Gently pressed the side of his hand against Jayce’s arm, drawing it over before twirling behind him, sliding the edge of his hand then over his captor’s neck before pulling away, head turned. "More personal." And if the death wasn’t personal, then it meant absolutely nothing.

After he’d retrieved his picture, he slid it back out of his pocket, sliding it out from the frame and setting the frame and glass aside, taking the picture back to his pocket. Lifted his head at Jayce’s voice, lips curling back as he let a low growl form, only to cut off at the word sentimental. "I’m not." Nostrils flared, Daichi shoved past Jayce, moving out of his house. Waited for Jayce to leave before struggling with the door again, eventually locking it (about five minutes later) and checking (and double checking) the lock to make sure it would hold. Didn’t need anything missing, even if Daichi wasn’t going to be returning here. Dismissed the thought, though, moving down the stairs quickly, hitting the ground and pausing. Lifted his head, staring east with his mouth pushed to the side. Fooling Jayce would be easy enough -- the man was in unfamiliar territory. Hell, Daichi could likely drag Atkins all the way to Aokigahara without any questions of are you sure this is the way? Jayce was a stranger on enemy territory. Didn’t know which way was up.

Despite this thought that begged him to do it, do it, do it, he still headed east. Maybe it was out of his own personal preservation, because the sooner they got to wherever the hell Jayce looked to take him, the sooner he could get medical assistance. Speaking of that shoulder. The blood flow was starting to ebb, but it still hadn’t stopped. Felt it throb with each twist and movement, occasionally spilling more and more blood out against the torn jacket. Daichi sighed, pushing his hair out of his eyes and glancing west for a brief second. No. Then turned over his shoulder, looking to Jayce. "Who sent you?" He finally asked the man who had apparently been looking to kill him for some time now. Been sent, by name and by file. Daichi had a file? How sweet. Could have smiled at that sentiment. So, so, sweet. Shook his head and scoffed, continuing on, except away from the trees this time. Didn’t want to take the long way, so he kept the trees to his left side as he headed straight. It would be hells easier if they took a car, a transit, or, hell, even a bus. At this point, anything was better than walking. Walking took longer, and right now, time was neither of their friends.

"So, Mister Atkins," he began, fingers tapping a carefully composed beat against his blades, little smiles twitching on the corner of his lips at each down tap, relieving on the upward movements. "The United States of America. This is where you’re taking me?" Phrased it as a question, even though he had already deduced the answer for himself. It was their first encounter that blew it -- Jayce was loud. Smiled too much, and wasn’t serious enough to be anything but American. Plus, he was white. Clearly not from Japan. Out of place. "When in Rome, do as the Romans do, Mister Atkins. Are you familiar with this?" Obviously not, seeing as how Jayce had treated the situation that they’d been thrown into.

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
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Jayce cocked a brow all of a sudden as Daichi began to speak of his blades. He almost moved back and away from Daichi, but wasn't fast enough. He touched his hand against Jay's arm and the man's gaze fluttered shut, his eyes moving rapidly behind his lids. Daichi Akino. Twenty-five years old. Of Japanese decent. No immediate family. Element: Fire. Influences emotions of others. Weapon of choice: Blades. And then the man's face flashed into Jay's mind in a way that offered more detail than his human gaze could ever pick apart. Just like that, Daichi's identity was stored away in the sharpshooter's mind and he internally cursed. He hadn't wanted this face in his catalog of faces. The man pulled his arm away and Jayce opened his eyes reluctantly only to find that hand against his neck a second later. This time, he kept his gaze open as new information swept through his mind. Short and sweet, but full of emotion. Shiro and Daire: Deceased. These were the surface memories that he could receive from anybody as soon as skin contact was made. If the contact was simple and short, he would collect the freshest memories that were on the surface. Here, it seemed that two girls had just been swimming around in the Japanese man's head. Immediately, he thought of the photograph and kept quiet. He had no way of turning it off or controlling it. Jayce used to wear gloves, but at some point he stopped caring. He became numb to the people he slept with and grew to know, only to leave them the following morning. It was quite an adventure, the troublesome and invasive power.

He took a moment to compose himself, before answering the other. Blades. Right, that whole contact was about blades in the first place. Sometimes it was hard to keep his mind focused on what was happening around him. As soon as somebody touched him, the other person became the only thing his mind cared about. What had he said about guns? They were unhonorable? Jayce looked at him and shrugged, "Well, I'm an dishonorable man. Would you honor somebody that goes about killing others for only themselves? Neither would I." He did quite the same thing that Daichi had done, his fingers forming a pistol as his head fell to one side, an eye closed. He was aiming at nothing. It even took him a while to respond as he thought about his own killing style. The smile on his lips was docile and while it was there, it was easy to overlook. Personal. Why... why would he want his kills to be personal? That was the last thing a guy like Jayce wanted. He did like to know who it was he was killing before he took the life. But God, he held no desire to make the killing blow personal to him. "Personal," he rolled the word off his tongue this time, "Why should death be personal? Death just means the person that meant something to somebody is dead now. Gone. There's nothing personal about it. Not to me, anyways. So a distant kill is how I'll keep things. But..." he trailed off, thinking hard about his words. He was usually an open book in a conversation, and it wouldn't be any different with this man. He figured, that if he had the power to creep and spy into people's minds, he could repay the world by giving himself away like candy. "Either way, I don't even believe the weapon matters. It's the distance between you and the person you kill. There's something very personal about staring into somebody's eyes as you put a bullet into their heart, believe me. It's not as fast as you would love to imagine." Jayce knew where to shoot to make the death as quick as possible. But he also knew where to shoot to make the death slow, painful, and borderline torturous. There was nothing fast about it other than the gunshot itself. And God no, nothing honorable.

His smile had fallen into the serious conversation. But there was something thoughtful about his expression as he stepped out of the house. He wondered if he had an ounce of care left in the world to want his kills to be personal. Sometimes, he'd even joke about his kills and often said things like, 'It's nothing personal but...' And then he'd pull the trigger. He would smile as the corpse before him spit its blood on his face. His brow would twitch as he wiped the blood off his skin. But he would never bring himself to care as he cleaned up the rest of the mess. If Jayce allowed every kill to be personal, he'd never be able to live with himself. He liked the human race too much to care about it. His brow picked up, unconvinced as Daichi claimed that he hadn't a sentimental bone in his body. Jayce didn't believe that for a second. Anybody that wanted a kill to be personal had to have deeper parts about them. In a way, Jayce was shallow. He wouldn't deny it. They stood outside, the sharpshooter watching for five minutes as his contract tried to lock the door. When he finally held the click, he let out a breathy laugh. He watched carefully, pulling this man apart from his stance as they began to walk again. There was definitely a tilt in the way that Daichi was walking, and Jayce had to believe that the man's shoulder was starting to take its toll. Jayce, on the other hand, was doing quite fine. His own wound was already beginning to fix itself, cells working together to assume Jay's identity as it was. He imagined them all having a conference. Are you sure this wound is supposed to be here? I don't remember Mr. Jayce Holland Atkins Porter having a hole in his shoulder. I concur, this simply won't do. I see, what shall we do about it, then? Send some workers over to patch up the mistake, and Mr. Hemoglobin, get me a cup of oxygen while you're at it! Yes, sir!

Jayce chuckled for no other reason than the thoughts in his head had amused him. Daichi would have no context, and Jay wouldn't share. His shoulder just did what it did, and he was fine with that. Instead, he simply fell in step beside his contract and tilted his head. "The name wouldn't be familiar. They've never dealt weapons to Japan. I belong to Townsend Industries and have belonged there ever since I graduated high school. Believe me, my taking you to America is nothing personal. What use would I have of an angry emotionless man such as yourself. Very little beyond the bedroom." He laughed at this, finding no reason to be shameful when he spoke about his extracurricular tendencies. He was joking, though. And his grin should hopefully let Daichi know this, but he also wouldn't put it past the other to take the joke completely serious. His contract didn't really seem to have a very prominent humor bone. Jayce would have to try to fix that on the boat ride back. If Townsend was going to make Daichi's life a living hell, it might be nice to have a sense of humor to go along the way. He fell silent once again, his thumb brushing tenderly against Tails. It took him a while, but he smirked at the man, "When in Rome, I'll so as I do, Mister Daichi. And help the poor b**t**d that tries to change me."

[important]

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


"No honour?" Now, why didn't that surprise him? Daichi snorted, his head tilting just a bit at his question, nostrils flaring. "It is not dishonourable to them, it is dishonourable to you. You chose the weapon. You made it quick. You never bothered to take the time to move in close," he murmured, twisting his body to where he was only a few steps away from Jayce, "feeling their breath against your skin, the fear in their eyes. And it's not over in one," made a sound not unlike the soft pop of a sniper rifle, head tipping downwards as his head shook. "You can take your time. Take out answers. You get to personally push and shove the piece into their skin -- not have something else do that for you." Shot a glare to those guns of his, resting in their respective holsters. Scoffed, even. "Honour can be found in death, but if a man takes a life with no honour, then he deserves a death with no honour." Eye for an eye. Daichi sucked in a breath, pacing out his words in his mind before letting himself answer. "When death is personal, it gives you reason. Meaning. Intent. You have to know why you're taking the life -- and you cannot take the life by the orders of another man." He learnt that one hard through his service in the military. "And everything circles back to honour." Because that was the only thing his sister valued when she was alive. Every single one of her kills were honourable and with reason -- even Khitam's. The bullet that was pushed through Daire's skull wasn't without reason, either. None of them were. Shiro had racked up an impressive death toll -- but Daichi had quickly beat it with the time that he'd stolen from her. But it wasn't Daichi who had killed his sister, no, gods forbid. "You hold a gun to their head and they know they're going to die. You hold a knife to their throat and you give them the thought that maybe they won't die. It's that hope, that small speck of human hope." Daichi needed it to move on to the next target.

Honour and discipline. It wasn't uncommon, especially in this town. Most of the residents were wealthy descendents of the shogunate, but not Daichi's family. The Akino name held a long line of samurai who served the wealthier shogunates and military lords, bending their knee to the will of the generals and the shoguns and the kings. But now that the need for samurai had exhausted over the past centuries, the former samurai took up places in the military. Soldiers, some of them were. Others were more specialised -- trained to kill from an earlier age. They had a blade in their hands before they could go to school, their lessons vigorous and far from merciful. Age wasn't even taken into consideration for the parents. And that was their father, bearing down on Shiro, then after her, Daichi. Perfect little weapons, forged in the fires of destruction. Akino's fingers twitched at that small scratch of a memory, though it was hardly any more than the silver of a bullet and the flash of long white hair. Namesakes.

Every time Jayce chuckled or laughed, Daichi ahd this overwhelming desire to snatch out a blade and shove it through the man's neck. Nothing personal, his thoughts sneered, causing the fire element to draw his lip back. And it seemed like Jayce wasn't looking to stop with his own personal parade of jokes and laughter any time soon, either. Just seemed to be another quirk of this man that Daichi wouldn't be able to rid himself of. "Townsend Industries," he repeated back, though a slight bit differently than Jayce had. The 'n' in Townsend almost blended into the 's', and in the word Industries, the 'r' was pushed out awkwardly next to the 't', sounding more like a d than an 'st' sound. His nose scrunched up in his brief bought of disgust at the pronunciation, but, well. Angry? Emotionless? Daichi could beg to differ. There was a whole catalogue of emotions that rested just beneath his fingertips, all disposable to his access. But they weren't his, they were all borrowed and all feigned. It was the last part of Jayce's quip that pulled Daichi into a brief hit of shock, yet another throwing blade out in an instant. "Mister Atkins," he said slowly, pushing each syllable out enough clearly as he slowly turned to face the man, knife twirling in his fingers. Then he remembered. Metal. That, that one sparked a large flare of anger in him, tearing through his system as he dropped the blade, letting it hit the fallen leaves underfoot. Held out his uninjured arm to where his forearm was parrarel to his body, fire taking to his other hand as some sort of defence mechanism in case Jayce tried to use that against him -- he'd get burnt to all hell. Shoved his arm against Jayce's chest, pushing him back against the nearest tree. His knee pressed into Jayce's legs, the shorter male yanking the hit man down to where he was eye level with the bastard. "Whatever it is you wish to imply, insinuate, or rashly pin against me," he grated out, right hand shoved against Jayce's chest as his left one braced the tree, flames tearing out and stripping bark, the scent of burnt wood invading his senses. Took a moment to exhale, slowly, collecting himself. Composure. "I suggest you keep it to yourself." Because in this Rome, words like that would not be tolerated, especially by this Roman.

[Aᴛᴏᴍɪᴄ.]

⚖ Ｊａｙｃｅ
[age: twenty-four // nname: blue, jay] - [location: mikabuyama; fukushima] - [element: metal]
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"It must be nice," Jayce began, his expression almost dark, "honor. Having honor. But as I've told you, I have none to spare. I don't get to feel honored, Contact." He kept walking, his eyes were trained on the path ahead, and this subject was one that hit Jayce a little hard. He should have been arrested, as that would be easier to live with than guilt. Fortunately, Jay didn't like to hold onto the past in any meaningful way. But like always, it had a way of clinging to you whether you wanted it to not. Besides, he had to counter one thing. "Who's to say I don't move in close at some point? Feel their breath on my face? Their eyes, though--sometimes it's fear," he shrugged, "Other times it's just hunger. And, man, it's never over in one. We have very different ways of getting up close and personal to the people we're about to kill, you and I." He left it at that, however, feeling as if Daichi didn't really need to hear the specifics of what happened. Honestly, this man should just be lucky Jayce wasn't planning on killing the other. Otherwise, he would definitely be trying to make it personal, beforehand. Who's to say he wasn't trying right now? Just... in a more inconspicuous matter that had a lot more to do with talking than it did with sex. Despite thinking about one thing or another, his main focus was still on the idea of honor. Daichi had been so kind to bring it up again. "...if a man takes life with no honor, then he deserves a death with no honor." Jay laughed. Short, sharp, and spiteful. "Well then, you must try to make my death as dishonorable as you can. There's nobody who could deserve it more than I, at this point. Unless.. killing a man with no honor would bring you no honor. And then where would you be?" Honor. Please. Jayce was a hop and a skip from dropping a dog over a cliff if somebody with a shiny name placard told him to.

He glanced over briefly when Daichi pronounced the name of the American company. His lip twitched in amusement but he hardly commented. He was far too busy watching the wound in the other's shoulder to be bothered with the pronunciations of American words and what not. Well, it sure was looking painful. Time didn't seem to travel in a straight line when he heard the man then pronounce his name. He raised a brow, eyes catching the flash of metal in the man's hand. Again? Apparently not. When Daichi dropped the knife, Jayce didn't move just to see what the other was planning. Once more, this was a careless move but a man like him wasn't worried. Without much of a warning, he was being shoved against a tree by the much smaller man. Jay could appreciate the hidden strength that the other wielded. This was more like it. This was that anger that he'd wanted to see and Jay's lips curved up into a smile. He grunted uncomfortably though, the knee pressed into his legs wasn't really the most amazing feeling in the universe. Heat from the flames dancing around Daichi's hand fell on the side of Jay's head, and it cast a glow on his contract's face. Quite a scene, this was. Jayce stared at him for a while, eyes undaunted by the position he was in. He wondered how dishonorable of a death it would be for Daichi to be stabbed in the back with his own knife. Jay's gaze flicked past the other man's shoulder for the briefest moment, making out the blade in the leaves behind the two of them. How easy it would be to lift that weapon and send it spiraling into this man's flesh. A kill from behind was just as impersonal as a kill with a gun. It would suit Jayce just fine. But Jayce didn't do that and he had absolutely no intention to do that. Heaven knows he'd want to reward Daichi's carelessness - especially not when he was close enough to the man to feel his breath against his face.

"Is this the part where you make it personal?" he smirked finally, shifting beneath the other's hand. He didn't want to touch the other, not feeling like having another bout of invasive thoughts rush through his mind. "I must admit, this is rather forward of you, mate. Here? In the woods? Surely there's a bed somewhere along the way. Why be so impatient?" He quieted up again, and without any warning of his own, he brought up the palm of his hand and slammed it against the wound in Daichi's shoulder. With the moment over between the two of them, Jayce decided to make a new one, grabbing the man and spinning them so the other was pressed into the tree and their positions were changed. The movement was so fast and so chaotic, that it might just come to a shock to see the face that was staring at Daichi. Jayce's own features were no more. He'd assumed Daichi's identity complete and it must have been like looking into a mirror. However, the impostor Daichi was smiling like a mad man, pressing his weight against the other to keep him pinned like a dog. His shoulder was in a large amount of pain and it was simply because he'd adopted the wound by adopting the identity. Lifting his brows, Atkins didn't say anything for a long time. "It's a good sight, isn't it? I wonder what sorts of insinuations I could give with this face," Jayce smirked, even Daichi's thick Japanese accent slipped out of his lips. As if to prove himself, Jay brought up his one free hand to touch his own lips - or in this case, Daichi's. And while he did this, Jay fell back into himself. Daichi's hair shortened and was replaced by Jay's mess of light brown hair. His eyes also changed again. From a dark brown that was almost black, he adopted his brighter, but yes, insanely warm brown eyes. And it was Jayce pinning Daichi against the tree now, enthused to witness the anger less than a foot away from him. He brought his hand away from his own lips, then sighing, he pushed himself away from the other. Jayce walked over to the knife on the ground, and without bending down, he brought it up to his hand with his mind. "That makes.... two. Two knives you'll have to work for," Jayce muttered, moving back over to the man. However, instead of putting the knife with the other, he simply held it out to Daichi cordially, "Kidding. You dropped this. It'd be a shame if somebody took it. Now, your shoulder must be in quite a lot of pain. I'd like to look at it for you, but I cant do that here. Take me home, Mister Daichi Akino."

[important]

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


Jayce's smile only infuriated Daichi even more, a growl ripping through his throat as he shoved more against his chest, nostrils flaring. How dare you. Did Jayce think this was a joke? A game? He could have killed him. Could have shoved his hands, fire blazing, into Jayce's skin. Could have over-stimulated pain inside of the man's brain, making his body react accordingly and shut down. Could have pulled a dagger (obsidian, thank gods) and stripped Jayce's life away with a single tug across his exposed neck. Could have, could have, could have. Daichi shoved his chin up, emulating the idea that he was above Jayce. And it almost felt like he was, too. He leant forward a bit, enough to pick apart the colour of Jayce's eyes, his own snapped and harsh. I could kill you. Right here. Do you not realise that?

His head tilted at the others question, lips parting a bit before letting his teeth click. Did Jayce really have that sort of audacity? "I'm not going to kill you," he told him. But I could. Snapped his thoughts off at the next comment of Jayce's, just... passed off as if it was nothing. Daichi's hold on the other loosened as he stared at him, unable to formulate a proper response to that. But it seemed like he wasn't going to have much time to think it over, pain tearing through his system when force was shoved against his wound. His knees nearly buckled, vision blackening. Had it not been for the hands that spun him to push him against the tree, he'd likely be on the ground right now. Daichi's held tilted up, shoved against the bark behind his head as he tried to shove through the pain. His shoulder jerked roughly, skin shuddering and muscles spasming. Tried to regain himself, tried to show his assailant that it was nothing, but by the time his eyes snapped open, he wasn't looking at Jayce.

It was a mirror.

His eyes immediately snapped down, a snarl ripping through him. Daichi avoided mirrors, always. His home held absolutely none, torn away from the walls by him the day after Shiro died. All of them, gone. Jayce couldn't have known. So then why did he have a mirror? But, oh, no. Mirrors couldn't talk. They couldn't move, and they certainly couldn't grin like that when Daichi knew there wasn't a trace of a smile on his face. His eyes kept flicking everyone but on the face that was across from him, even if that meant baring his throat to the other. He couldn't look. His voice. Jayce's words. Jayce, right. Jayce. What had he done? Pain was still throbbing and tearing through his shoulder, Daichi's head rolling back against the tree yet again. That entire arm was numb, cold, the fabric that he'd tied around it soaked with the blood that was pouring out of it. Finally grasped the words, eyes squeezing shut. "You wouldn't dare." The words were whispered, soft, Daichi struggling to pump his signature venom behind the words. By the time his eyes opened again, he caught sight of Jayce out of the corner of his eye -- and no longer himself.

He was furious. In pain, yes, but furious. Fire tore over him, spreading through his arms, his hands, curling around his fingers. Only let it drop once Jayce let him go, Daichi dropping to his knees in front of the tree, facing Jayce. Stayed there for a second, Jayce taking a step away to pick up the blade he'd dropped. Growled when Jayce told him he'd take that one, too, the man about to snap about how that wasn't fair, only for Atkins to tell him he didn't mean it. Snapped his hand out to take the blade, tucking it back into its home. Five. Still wasn't very happy about the missing sixth that Jayce had, but, well. Daichi finally dropped himself from his knees to the ground, but it wasn't out of pain or exhaustion or otherwise. He was apologising. Not something Daichi usually did. But for the first time in years, he finally had an opponent -- one he was matched with. Well, maybe, maybe... Daichi could destroy him, but not in a fair manner. Not in a manner that he'd be willing to do. So, yes. Fair. Matched. Equal. After mumbling his apology (which would likely fly over Jayce's head -- as the words weren't of Jayce's language), Daichi forced himself back to his feet. His other hand clutched his shoulder, eyes narrowed. "It's only bleeding," he replied, slowly, "not hurting." But it was the presence of his last name that caused his head to tilt forward and listen to Jayce's request, Daichi dipping his head and pushing forward, resuming their walk. "Do you happen to have a vehicle? A car? This would be easier. Quicker." And Daichi could be his MapQuest, pointing directions to the east coast of the country.