middaeg | . summer's play

[It's easy to discriminate between those who call the outer city their home - for many their final resting place - and those who reap it for profit. The faster someone walks, the more color in their face, their response to muddy patches in the road...

The people who are alert, free of illness, are either here to help or here to take what they can for themselves.

Dimitri has been walking after one such individual for a while now. Perhaps they've noticed him, he isn't exactly stealthy, but a philanthropist would have stopped to give aid by now. This man... is simply waiting for an opportunity to lose his pursuer.

Which isn't a crime, so Dimitri hasn't intervened.

It seems he won't need to-

After taking an abrupt turn around a corner, the man turns and raises a knife.] Leave me alone, you hear!?

Or I'll cut your hands off!

[Dimitri startles, only for a moment, and then presses a shoddy smile onto his lips.] I'm sorry for disturbing you...

I was simply curious as to your purpose in this area. It isn't safe to wander.

It's none of your business, bastard! [With that the man attempts to charge, knife held forward with intent to force Dimitri to dodge and allow him the chance to sprint away.

Dimitri does side step, but he quickly trips the man, who stumbles, and eventually loses his footing.

Right in front of a specific passerby.]

Edited 2020-04-05 23:10 (UTC)

[The man falls in a crash of momentum directly in front of Itachi, who is little more than a shadow off the street, dressed head to toe in unassuming black. His eyes slant down at the groaning body. One foot lifts, and for a moment gives the impression it's going to kick—but instead nudges the man's shoulder in order to roll him upright.

Mud is smeared over the man's crude features, and there clutched in his hands is the knife. Itachi presses the same foot across the assailant's throat, eliciting a gurgling sound of protest, that blade once more upraised in a glint of silver.]

Release it.

[The man's voice chokes off, knife falling loose of bloody fingers and thunking to the ground. In the effort to catch his own fall, he had sliced open his own hands. A hazard of inexperienced handling.

Impassive eyes drift back up as Itachi maintains the pressure of his heel. He surveys the younger man, and reflects on the polite words of just a moment ago.]

He may be more amenable to questions now.

[Was he stalking this whole interaction? Yes, maybe.]

Edited 2020-04-07 02:03 (UTC)

[Dimitri possesses no sense of the shadow that had followed him - he'd been focused solely on the man now laying bloodied on the street. Idly, he wonders how close to breaking the thug's throat that heel has come.

And he has no opposition.

He hadn't even considered truly interrogating him until this newcomer suggested it.

With a sure stride, Dimitri approaches. He crouches at the pinned man's side, eyeing the knife and opting to leave it where it lay - just out of arm's reach.]

I'll ask again.

What are you doing here? [What had began as a simple tactic to imply he had caught this man red-handed escalates easily. Very few thieves work alone.

The brute wheezes, lacerated fingers curling and uncurling in the direction of his weapon. With a cough, he sputters-] Makin. A livin.

[Dimitri's eyes narrow, and he bends closer.] At the expense of others?

[To that, the man is - predictably - silent.]

[While Itachi hadn't intended to intervene, events failed to play out as expected, and so he adapts. Dark eyes remain level with the man on the ground lying prone beneath the heel of his foot. He exerts only enough pressure to be felt without cutting off the supply of the oxygen. There is, however, always the existing threat. It's enough to quell any fight.

Itachi's voice comes calmly in the face of that weighted silence.]

The population of the Outer City is vulnerable to those who would prey on the weak. It seems there exists little jurisdiction here. Due to their affliction and vulnerable location, they are considered a hopeless cause.

[He lifts his foot up, stepping back.]

It is likely that no authority would intervene in the case of one minor criminal. It's possible, if he is not working alone, we could discover the rest with some effort... [This is said to the stranger across from him, a young man with bright eyes, who evidently set out with good cause.] I have another suggestion.

[There's an implicit threat that Dimitri doesn't hear in his new companion's words. All he recognizes is that this slum is as written-off as the rest. The good and the bad die without discretion - and the people in the city proper will know nothing of it.

They do not care.

A spark of anger rises in his chest, catches in his throat, and for a moment he thinks of replacing the man's foot with his own and crunching that neck into a pulp on the stone.

He looks up quickly when addressed, stepping slowly between the now released man and the knife. With a nudge, he kicks it farther out of reach. The man doesn't make a move to scamper off, but Dimitri keeps him in his periphery.]

Please, go on.

[Uprooting a small group of thieves isn't the worst way Dimitri can think to spend his evening, but he'll hear this man out.

He'd been helpful so far, after all.]

[Itachi's eyes survey the man before him, attempting to glean something there in what he sees. A task that has become much harder without the tells of chakra and the red-tinged view of Sharingan. He can only seem to make guesses now, easier done with some knowledge of the individual in question.

As the knife scrapes across the ground, he maintains eye contact, waiting and patient for acceptance.]

Allow him to go loose.

[Itachi's head turns, gaze pointed out toward the fringe of dark trees away from Aefenglom's boundary and the tall, gleaming Bright Wall around its edge.]

That way. If he sees it fit to belittle those most at risk of dying by the infection of the Cwyld, perhaps it's because he does not understand their world. The danger of their lives.

[That's a reasonable and sane conclusion, right?]

[It's a punishment that fits the crime, Dimitri thinks.

There's something sadistic in him that's riled up by the idea, as well. He hesitates only because he won't see the end of this with his own eyes; it's a bit disappointing to leave a man for dead, no matter horrible the death, without a show of blood and bone.

His composure must be slipping, because the smile on his face has grown severe.

Dimitri chokes back a laugh and attempts to bite his excitement back, as if there's any taming such a carnal thing.]

You will know their peril, then. Perhaps, if you live through it without becoming infected, you'll amend your ways.

Though I believe- [He crouches and lifts the man by a handful of neck and hair and collar, his grip tight.] -you are most likely to serve as a warning to others.

[Dimitri's of the political alignment that mounting heads on pikes - both metaphorically AND literally - is a great move.]

Wait, wait wait!! You can't throw me out there! What the hell is wrong with you!?

[Fully ignoring the man's protests and struggles, Dimitri drags him in the direction of the Outer City's edge. It's a bit of a walk, but if he cannot have guts strewn through the streets, he will at least hear the despair set into this man's pleas.]

Edited 2020-04-19 22:52 (UTC)

[For his own part, Itachi's motivations are more complicated than fair and brutal judgment. He knows better than to play executioner on his own whims, simply by what is deemed right or wrong for petty criminals, no matter how his suggestion may be interpreted. It isn't his place to make those decisions. Looking out at the dark fringe of trees ahead, he is instead driven by the desire to understand this world.

The Wilde, the Cwyld's infections... it isn't impossible this man will survive an excursion into that black territory, from what little information he's gathered. He may wander back entirely unaffected.

He watches passively as the man is dragged up by the younger boy and steered out toward the woods, then follows at a slower pace. His gaze hangs heavy over them both.]

I can accompany him from here, unless you oppose. [Itachi addresses his companion, pulling a sharp blade from his own pocket--a kunai, its point triangled.] We will need to walk further in.

[The true intent is to act as an observer, to watch over what happens just past the boundary of safety... he can determine then whether to protect the criminal's life or not. A test. Though this he keeps to himself.]

I won't ask you to come, if you are concerned by the risk of infection. It will be much greater past this area.

Edited 2020-04-20 06:27 (UTC)

[Y-you're crazy! If you go out there, we'll all get infected!

Dimitri trudges forward silently, carrying the man as if he weighs nothing. Because he is nothing, and his death won't stop crimes inflicted upon the people of the Outer City. But it will feed the hungry thing in Dimitri's chest-

You're murderers! Both of you!

Ignoring the man's attempts to thrash, Dimitri crosses over the last bit of gravel that demarcates the edge of the city. From there, the grass is nearly knee high and quickly gives way to wet ground and gnarled thorn bushes. Beyond them rise age old trees, many of their trunks warped with shadow.]

You want me to let go? [Dimitri turns to his accomplice, eyeing the strange dagger but not releasing the man yet.

If he runs, they'll have to kill him here, which defeats the purpose of coming in the first place...

But Dimitri isn't terribly opposed.]

Yes.

[Itachi is alert, a silent and still statue posed as the edge of that boundary between wild terrain and the Outer City. He watches this exchange — the thrashing, the wailing protest — as someone who has endured pleads for mercy all his life.]

If he chooses to run, he'll only be struck down. If he enters the Wilde, he has the opportunity to live however slim it may be.

[This he says with a look toward the criminal in question, the cowardly man eying them both, face screwed up in a red look of fear.]

He should know which choice is wiser.

[The thief opens his mouth to protest, but Dimitri releases him. Stumbling to catch his footing, the man raises his unscathed hand to the back of his neck and hisses.

How do you two murderers get off, throwing a petty thief to the Wilde? Muttered, while he takes his first hesitant steps through the marshy grass and towards the blackened trees.

Dimitri follows, silent as before, footfalls heavy in the muck.

The man stops, looks over his shoulder - Dimitri pushes him between the shoulders.] Turn around again and I'll cut you down.

[The man complies, and soon the sky is entirely consumed by dark, still leaves and what little light the glowing wall cast has been completely consumed by the forest.

Each step the thief takes is shakier than the last, but he doesn't dare dart away. They've crossed fully into the outer lands now, and impossibly black shadow speckles the ground and foliage alike - a sign of infection.

One Dimitri only barely cares to step around.

Y-you guys gonna leave me here or not? The man asks, still facing away. Dimitri turns to look at his companion, ready to comply with whatever his response may be.]

[Itachi is more careful as he picks his way through the underbrush, eyes alert on their surroundings for the slightest signs of disturbance. Whatever he feels for his own risk of death, it isn't his goal to be infected; that slow, rotting illness takes on a more abstract interest to him. And perhaps to some end, his shinobi instincts bent toward survival make this behavior automatic.

The world around them becomes darker, last threads of daylight blotted out. The bases of trees are gnarled and black and spiderwebbed by signs of the Cwyld, and he notices how it seems to spread from centralized spots over the wilderness — a creeping, hungry, mindless plague. His companion has an eye on their captive, which is more than enough. Itachi commits this first sight of the Wilde to memory.

At the man's trembling question and the look from his companion, Itachi remains silent, still watching their surroundings. The quiet stretches long enough (eerie out here, not even a hiss of insects to show that anything is alive) that it becomes uncomfortable.

Then, out of the dark, a noise comes. It's the telltale fluttering of wings; what looks like a bat swoops down directly on top of the man, who cries out and covers his face as he collapses to his knees. Itachi acts next. He throws the kunai in his hand with precise and deadly aim, hitting true. The creature is struck midair and falls limp to the ground, its breast embedded with the knife. The man remains in the same bent-over position as his voice devolves into low moans.

To the one at his side,] Be careful. The Cwyld likely touched him, if it was infecting that animal. [Itachi steps forward. On the ground, the animal — perhaps once a songbird, though now bloated and distended with disease — is clearly dead.

Black eyes find the individual who has chosen to follow him this far into the woods. Reasonably,] Have you ever killed another person?

[In the heavy silence, Dimitri can hear his gauntlet's metal clinking when his fingers brush together. They ache to feel the weight of his spear, the tremble of its haft when he forces the weapon through bone.

For a moment, he's alone in this lifeless wilderness with only a sense of yearning...

A simple, bestial desire to dye his teeth with blood. A hunger.

From between the twisted trees, there's a whisper. Dimitri recognizes the voice, parts his lips to respond-

The sudden commotion shakes him; Dimitri only manages to fall one step forward before his companion has felled the small creature. His boot brushes a line of splintering black, and he continues his advance.]

Yes. [It is reasonable.

A necessary thing.]

He cannot return now, or he may spread the infection. [Right?

Reaching the man's collapsed body, Dimitri draws and readies his spear.

Waiting for one final note of confirmation.]

[Itachi's attention fixates more fully on his companion, interested more in that response than he is the fate of the man on hands and knees a short distance away. The certainty in that response...

It's as though there was never going to be another outcome but this one.]

Your reasoning is correct. Kill him now and he'll have no opportunity to harm anyone else. Even if he does return, he'll be infected, living out the remainder of his life as one of those he once preyed upon.

It's your decision.

[He takes a step away, black silhouette almost lost in the surrounding gloom.]

After you make it, tell me your name.

[Dimitri understands the value of a punishment that fits a crime, of karmic comeuppance and what lessons it can teach. There's some notes of satisfaction to be gained in finding the perfect end for a rat like this-

But his hunger isn't sated without blood.

He offers no pretense when he drives his spear forward, through the man's shoulder and down into his chest. The thief's cry is wet, strangled, and Dimitri cuts it off when he removes his weapon and severs the man's head from his neck.

It's a bloody, meaningless death.

One he steps away from without a word, red splattered across his cloak, speckling his face. With a smile toying on his lips, he returns to the darkness his companion inhabits.

His smile falls.] Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.

And you? [His title means nothing here, and there's no need for formality now - no handshakes or bows. Only a beast learning the identity of another in its territory.]

[He watches, stone-faced and unsurprised, when the choice becomes death. It fits into the image Itachi has already begun to etch of a polite young man with palpable bloodlust; it seems to roll off in waves, all too familiar. He's seen it in others and he's known it in himself.

The man's gurgles are silenced as his head is separated from his body, a clean and efficient finish. Well-practiced, too, which cements Dimitri's claim that he has done this before.

Dimitri Alexandra Blaiddyd. A name so utterly foreign that he nearly asks to have it repeated, to get the enunciation correct.

Instead:] ... Uchiha Itachi. 'Itachi' is the given name. [That's out of the way.]

I suggest we leave the body, where it will likely be lost to the creatures of the Wilde. Unless you are interested in explaining to the Coven what has happened here. [Let's logically run from the crime scene!] Also, you should clean off before returning.

Edited 2020-05-03 23:16 (UTC)

[With their titles from home carrying no meaning here, first name basis is common. Dimitri has always preferred it, and he nods in silent thanks for the clarification. Then, mechanically, he begins to do as bidden -

Wading back into the tall grass that separates this small mouth of the Wilde from the Outer City, Dimitri stops to unfasten his cloak from his shoulders. Balling it up quickly, he wipes the blood from his face and weapon. More care taken to clean the weapon than his skin, he drops the bloodied garment to the underbrush.

Almost immediately, it curls, strains of black spidering over the fabric until it becomes a veil of impossibly black shadow. An effective way to hide evidence, he thinks...]

Done.

It'd be best if we return separately, as well. [He's simply following through with the note of caution planted in his mind.] I'll set a slower pace. [No need for either of them to dwell in this infectious place, he'll simply trudge through the underbrush with a heavier foot.]

[With one last surveying look over the other man - interested despite himself, from all he's seen in this encounter, to know more - Itachi turns and faces the direction of civilization.]

Very well, then.

[He has plenty to think on. The solitude is preferred in this moment, so Itachi begins the walk back without further warning or farewell, hastening his step to create distance between them. And he's soon gone from sight.]

. summer's play

. itachi

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i love it

:}

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wow these two will be great for each other

SO HEALTHY

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feel free to end us here if you want \o/

C'EST FINI