06-12-2017, 12:35 AM
Dust seemed unfazed by the serious tone that the previously laughing man has turned to, his words were dark and his eyes were shining with both passion and fierce, honest truth. Takezo was a man to respect and possibly fear, but the contractor beside him only seemed to respect him despite the strong scent of blood and evidence of his recent conquest on the shirt the man wore and the medal of gore that flaked off his stuble as it dried further; loosing what physical grip this poor defeated enemy still had but not the ever lasting grip it had on the killer mere inches from Hokori. "Takezo it is, then." He confirmed out loud, then listened casually as the gruff man spoke, and met his eyes willingly when they met. While Dust was finally able to enjoy the company of people other than his commanders that treated him like a hunting dog, Dust never stopped being aware of the nature of this contest. This was a competition, and if the people sitting at this table thought they could win this event, they did not plan to show him any mercy on the battle field. The best he could hope for is what he gained from Takezo, respect. Enough respect that will allow him the chance to fight back, enough respect to earn him a proper challenge. As he planned to give anyone he came across.
But Takezo was not the only one at the table that has shed much blood in the name of something honorable or not. And Dawn was not the only person at the table with her past etched into her skin. With his clothing limited to a pair of shorts that pressed firmly to his body and dangerously tight enough to leave very little to the imagination, it was easy to see the markings of an abused solider. Many over lapped on another, most were partially healed but obviously older, some looked like they weren't older than a month or two. The story they told wasn't alwasy clear, but there were buns, cuts, and obciously lashes from a whip. And yet he managed to portray something that perhaps Dawn could not see herself being, smiles instead of a scowl, enjoying that very moment in life instead of looking at people and wondering what scar they would leave him with.
He turned from his oldest friend in this place, and looked over at Dawn while Takezo tried to meet the other's gaze. He was still looking playful in his manner as wet strands of his hair became too dry to hold their place across his crown and fell back into his face, three or so framing his temples but otherwise he could still make eye contact with her while she spoke up. When she translated his name into english, which Dust had good knowledge of before coming to the omniverse but now could say he was fluent in it, his chin tilted up in surprise. And his lips came came together to a softer smile, especially after hearing his suggestion of a name in his language. This little detail was interesting for meany reasons, without her knowing it - or perhaps she did - it formed the makings of a bridge between them. "Yuki?" He repeated, his tone soft and gentle as he spoke to her, instead of the not so subtle tones he'd used with the man beside him. "Would that be with the kaji that form the word 'snow'?" As that was the most common translation. "Or 'happiness?'" But if that did not get her wondering enough, he asked further. "Or do you break it up so that it means 'valuable reason'?"
From the outside it might seem he knew something, like maybe he was trying to teach her something, or more likely like he was suggesting something unconsciously to her. Like he could see through her clothes and read her life's story by her scars, and trying to tell her she should enjoy life. She shouldn't let her past leave her with tears on her cheeks, or dwell on the overwhelming pain, or tell her it was okay not to be depressed all the time. But it was all coiencidence if she took it that way, but Dust himself was merely making conversation. It might also look like he found the female of the group more interesting than the males for obvious reasons; and it wouldn't be entirely wrong, but in no way did he plan to ignore his company. He did hold his attention, but not only because she was pretty; Not only because she was talking to him. With he so close now, he could confirm his suspicion. If her guns were not the tip off before, the sour scent of gun powder hovering around her was his evidence. What little it meant, he could guess she was a specialist with fire arms.
But Takezo was not the only one at the table that has shed much blood in the name of something honorable or not. And Dawn was not the only person at the table with her past etched into her skin. With his clothing limited to a pair of shorts that pressed firmly to his body and dangerously tight enough to leave very little to the imagination, it was easy to see the markings of an abused solider. Many over lapped on another, most were partially healed but obviously older, some looked like they weren't older than a month or two. The story they told wasn't alwasy clear, but there were buns, cuts, and obciously lashes from a whip. And yet he managed to portray something that perhaps Dawn could not see herself being, smiles instead of a scowl, enjoying that very moment in life instead of looking at people and wondering what scar they would leave him with.
He turned from his oldest friend in this place, and looked over at Dawn while Takezo tried to meet the other's gaze. He was still looking playful in his manner as wet strands of his hair became too dry to hold their place across his crown and fell back into his face, three or so framing his temples but otherwise he could still make eye contact with her while she spoke up. When she translated his name into english, which Dust had good knowledge of before coming to the omniverse but now could say he was fluent in it, his chin tilted up in surprise. And his lips came came together to a softer smile, especially after hearing his suggestion of a name in his language. This little detail was interesting for meany reasons, without her knowing it - or perhaps she did - it formed the makings of a bridge between them. "Yuki?" He repeated, his tone soft and gentle as he spoke to her, instead of the not so subtle tones he'd used with the man beside him. "Would that be with the kaji that form the word 'snow'?" As that was the most common translation. "Or 'happiness?'" But if that did not get her wondering enough, he asked further. "Or do you break it up so that it means 'valuable reason'?"
From the outside it might seem he knew something, like maybe he was trying to teach her something, or more likely like he was suggesting something unconsciously to her. Like he could see through her clothes and read her life's story by her scars, and trying to tell her she should enjoy life. She shouldn't let her past leave her with tears on her cheeks, or dwell on the overwhelming pain, or tell her it was okay not to be depressed all the time. But it was all coiencidence if she took it that way, but Dust himself was merely making conversation. It might also look like he found the female of the group more interesting than the males for obvious reasons; and it wouldn't be entirely wrong, but in no way did he plan to ignore his company. He did hold his attention, but not only because she was pretty; Not only because she was talking to him. With he so close now, he could confirm his suspicion. If her guns were not the tip off before, the sour scent of gun powder hovering around her was his evidence. What little it meant, he could guess she was a specialist with fire arms.
![[Image: k7o36mrvhfvz.gif]](https://cdn.discordapp.com/attachments/373954940726673408/375611812068065307/k7o36mrvhfvz.gif)
"Centurion: I'll leave you to your work then Dust. Thanks for chatting!
Me: no problem. stay awesome!
Centurion: It's more of a passive ability"