vengeance

“It’s nice to meet you, Kurapika. I’m Karin.” She replied. She cocked a fine brow at him. He seemed to probe her, much like she probed the odd specimens that haunted her hometown. 

Kurapika, though he felt like a kettle over a burner, was just curious, just like her.

It always gave her mixed feelings when her initial impression wasn’t totally correct. She liked when she was wrong because it meant people couldn’t be chipped down to a core value, but she wondered if the people who felt like mothers or meadows hid something even worse than the evils she could sense.

“Is there something you need from me?” She asked carefully.

Karin, he repeated in his head, memorizing her face. Though she seemed not an explicit threat, she housed some similar rage, some strength. She was hardly dull, hardly blank in her countenance. 

If that boy only realize what’s going on behind the mask she wears on her face, the rage he feels is the same rage that is bubbling up in her system. But between the two, she isn’t going to be the one losing control–the boss is in danger as well, her life between his doesn’t matter. She decided to keep her mouth shut (besides, what can she say to him?).

Damn her, her resolve. It was not often Kurapika was faced with an adversary whose intelligence he felt even remotely rivaled his own. Arrogant, yes, but without that confidence his vengeance would have no backbone. Like him, perhaps, this woman had faced some loss...

But he could not allow himself to harbor any sympathy for a leg of the dreadful spider.

"Phinks would be my immediate guess," he muses aloud, "Even though he isn't a founding member, he commands authority. Nobunaga may be a contender, though." After a moment's thought, though, he adds, "As important as that is, shouldn't you instead be figuring out who to eliminate next? ♣️️"

Whoever he was, she thought, he gave off a lot of mixed messages. He was… human, but he wasn’t human like herself or that Vorarlberna kid. There was a boil in him, hot and acidic. 

It was best to tread carefully. He may not be a hollow, but she wasn’t about to get into a fight with someone whose abilities she couldn’t decipher.

“… you should know better than to ask about a lady before introducing yourself.” She said.

“I beg your pardon,” Kurapika said, slow and false. A lady. She was no less a child than him. “My name is Kurapika.” That ought to have been enough to sate her. He approached then, keeping his hands politely folded before his slender form, showing himself unarmed and nonthreatening. “Again. Who are you?”

“Yep, I will! Let’s go before it’s too late, Kurapika!”

Gon’s grin doesn’t reveal anything but he does plan on making sure the blond eats enough. He may not be smart, but Kurapika has been looking paler and more tired these days. And food is always a good solution!

He nods, following after him, posture upright though it certainly threatens to slouch. He might be hungrier than he let on, but too full a stomach won’t do him any favors.

“My treat, okay? I have a steady income these days, Gon.” People often laughed, at first glance. This waif of a boy, a bodyguard. He needn’t prove himself to strangers.

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Tagging: @wildmountainkid @reversedcross @hisohhka & errbody

Muse:

name: kurapika nickname/titles: pika zodiac sign: aries gender: trans boy favourite colour: blue, scarlet average hours of sleep: 5 last thing you googled: fabric store near me height: 5′7″

Mun:

With a grin replacing the concerned frown, he nods. "A few hours is a lot! We could go for a buffet!"

five word prompts (accepting)

It’s fairly obvious to Kurapika that even the vaguest request for his opinion should be a ruse, a tactic. Like hell Hisoka should ever want his suggestions. This is a give-and-take, not a meeting of minds. And, dammit, he hates to admit how much of a match Hisoka is for his wits. 

But not a match in power. He’s seen what the man can do, so he stills his beating heart and with the fingers of his right hand he makes a fist against his chin. Hisoka knows of the chains, how they are but an apparition along Kurapika’s fingers. He’ll show he’s unarmed.

“We’re both disappointed by how things turned out, I know.” He’ll not take that bait. “But…” Even if the spider’s head wouldn’t be worthwhile for him… “The next person to step into that role, the leader…wouldn’t they be just as strong? With a little time…”

Kurapika has been waiting years, why not make it a little bit longer? By any means necessary, he’s told himself over and over. Even this. Even making deals with this devil, always such blatant hunger in his painted eyes. A cruel man and a showboat, and yet…here they are. Meeting in a back alley like they’re truly star-crossed.

The stars were cruel to Kurapika, he thinks. They aligned to give him this fate. He has to wonder how they played with Hisoka’s life as well.