#ddazzlingblds

He's been staring.

It's easy to forget that this can be... unsettling to a lot of people. Luckily for him, Sampo doesn't seem to be one of those particularly bothered by being subjected to his rather intense gaze. Even so, he does make something of an effort not to stare too hard or too long. He's... not always successful.

There's a familiar thread of humour in that honeyed voice, the same tone his unlikely companion uses when answering to the now empty threat he directs at him on a semi-regular basis. It's fond, and warm, and it settles a sense of ease upon the immortal.

"I cannot work you out, sometimes." His head tilts a fraction to the side, regarding Sampo with that heavy crimson gaze. "There is so much more to you than this surface level facade, yet no matter how deep I look, I cannot touch the depths beyond."

👫 The more time Gepard spends with Sampo, the more he learns to be selfish. He has always been for Belobog, for the people, but as a consequence he never learnt how to chase things he wants for himself. To recognise that it is okay to have things he wants for himself. Sampo doesn't let him run away from that, fills Gepard's space with his presence when it feels like he's slipping behind his job, pushes to question him as to whether that's what he really wants.

👫 Gepard and Sampo are both observant people so there's a lot of chance for finding out things about each other. However it also means a lot of their dynamic is unspoken at times, Gepard only has to lean towards Sampo to let him know he seeks a grounding touch which suits on the nights when his mind isn't kind to him. It also means that Gepard will pick up things Sampo is asking for without saying and will act accordingly.

👫 Gepard has to deal with a lot of guilt being with Sampo and that's excruciating at times. Sampo's career is everything he stands against and yet he recognises the need for it to protect the people of the Underworld. Still it takes him a long time to come to terms with it and moments when they are apart his mind is constantly questioning while he indulges and yet then there is another chase and a hidden moment again and he forgets. It is Serval he turns to eventually to talk it out and find clarity.

The corner of his mouth curves into a smile; the kind that promises trouble, though what kind of trouble yet remains to be seen. Many who have witnessed said smile have gone on to suffer beneath a manic and merciless gaze, others been forced to flee if they desired to cling onto their meagre lives.

Sampo... Sampo is solely privy to a much more entertaining kind of trouble.

The Hunter crowds in against the other, until broad shoulders are pressed firmly back against a solid wall, a more slender frame snug against him. Gloved fingers close around Sampo's throat, applying just enough pressure to be felt, but not yet to harm.

"No?" There's a low level of threat to his tone, but it is not an unfamiliar one between them. At this point, it is habit more than actual intent. "Mm..." He angles his head, leans in until teeth graze lightly along the line of Sampo's jaw. "I must be slipping, then."

He doesn't have time for this. That's the thought at the forefront of his mind as he stares down the man in front of him. This is a hindrance that must be dealt with; a temporary roadblock that he must charge through if he cannot simply go around.

His hand goes to his weapon, eyes narrowed, his expression one of bored irritation - the kind you might expect to see on someone facing a mild inconvenience. He'll take care of this quickly, he thinks, and be gone before anyone can trace him here.

As the other moves, he readies himself to parry an attack or to dodge, whichever will trap his foe into a quick end. But no attack comes, and the Hunter finds himself utterly at a loss for perhaps the first time in memory as a hand catches at his collar and lips close over his own.

His body tenses, muscles rigid as he processes what is happening. An assault he had been expecting, but certainly not one of this nature. And there, beneath the haze of bafflement, there's a snap of something else, something he can't quite place. He has... forgotten. Forgotten such a simple, human, touch.

"Yes." No.

Gepard opts to fall into silence after he speaks, letting Sampo come to his own conclusion, the howling wind in itself filling the space they share in this barren landscape. Being caught beyond the safety of the Restricted Zone is not ideal, it is enough to keep his shoulders tense and his attention on high alert, being trapped with Sampo Koski even more so. It had been easy to turn his frustration at the situation into accusations of abandonment, into being left to fend for himself against the storm and fragmentum than contemplate the notion the other may choose to stay.

What purpose would there be in it? Sampo owes him nothing and is well equipped in the arts of evasion and escape. Should he desire to he could be gone and back within the sanctuary of either Over- or Underworld before a creature dared near him. Yet he stays. Why?

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The words slip from his tongue before he can press on, his footsteps of departure falling still in the snow, head twisting so that he might look over his shoulder at the other. He scrutinises him, vivid blue hues searching for meaning in the statement but he cannot fathom why someone like Sampo Koski might care.

"My actions are all taken under my own duress. There is no one who controls me..." It is not true. They both know he is beholden to his duty, he knows that he is prisoner to the whims of his family and the laws they enforce. He'll never be free of that, not unless he wants to force Lynx to shoulder it instead. He chooses this, a poor comfort, but one that allows him to bear the atlantean weight on his shoulders a little easier, to fight a little longer.

@ddazzlingblds asked: ❛   fairness is for happy people.  ❜  

In the wake of soft words, he holds silent vigil. Cerulean hues stare ahead of him, across the vastness of the snow-kissed plains, to the endless stretches of white and Gepard resists the urge to grind his teeth in frustration. The soldier disagrees with the conman on many fronts, often quite vehemently on many matters, and yet, on this, he cannot refute it entirely.

If happiness spared its wealth for those that clutched desperately to the fragments they could scrounge rather than those that lived in abundance, then perhaps they might have had a different story to tell. If they were permitted to indulge in the just and fair, then there might be another outcome to their path.

But as it stands, Gepard knows they remain on borrowed time. He can feel the sands of it passing through his fingers like melted snow and while he wants to indulge in every moment until it comes to pass - because it will come to pass, there will be a time when he will have to chose between his wants and his work - his mind remains fixed on that sense of foreboding that chases him.

"I am surprised the concept of fairness is in your vocabulary..." he comments instead, eventually drawing his gaze to meet the emerald hues of the man who stands beside him, a tired smile lingering about his lips. He would like to think he has every righ to tease after numerous failed attempts at arresting the conman, due to smoke screens, trickery or other conniving actions.

The levity of his words eases the tension of the moment, the weight he carries casting a shadow over their meeting. Time has been short for their rendezvous as of late, the Fragmentum escalating and demanding more and more of him and his men, but there had finally been a lull in activity, one that lasted long enough for him to fire off a simple text and head to the snow plains.

"Is there any reason for the maudlin thoughts? I would have thought you'd be making jokes about sneaking around again..." It is easier to question than admit he feels the same. Despite that, he does stretch out a gloved hand, catching fingers against Sampo's own and slowly twisting them together until he can press palms together.