#solarcobaleno

solarcobaleno

With a long sigh, Verde ordered another drink and pushed at his notes. There was a small bar that attracted discerning mafiosos not too far from Kokuyo Land and not too close to the main city. Usually a hiding grounds for yakuza members or lost travelers, this specific bar was owned by a family that Verde had a decent relationship with: no betrayal on either person’s part. They let Verde drink when he wanted and Verde would sell them specially discounted weapons.

Of course, being near Namimori meant the circus that the young Vongola attracted would be in the area. Verde rested his hand to his face the moment he spotted an all-too-familiar hitman walk in through the doors.

 solarcobaleno Is it safe to come back here?[drop...

“Ah, ribs heal over. You’ll live.” Thumps him repeatedly on the shoulder. Fall, you goddamn tree. So that he can yell ‘timber’.

“.....................”

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He always hated this part of the job. 

The stench of gunpowder and blood mixed together made the raven’s nose wrinkle at the odd, somewhat appalling scent. Hazel optics glanced forward, looking at the fallen body before him. They flickered over the crusty-white shirt, now caked with black and red. Tanned fingertips were loose and relaxed, as his weapon of choice dangled in between his palm. The sword gleamed, even when stained with blood. He felt his skin crawling with the realization of what he has done, but this wasn’t unusual from the other killings that he has done.

In fact, it was pretty mundane, considering the situation. 

Had he been younger, less experienced, Yamamoto Takeshi would have retched at the mere sight of it. 

His body seemed to tense up, however, as he felt a hot sensation on his back. Those eyes were watching him again. Dark, cool, uncalculated. Like a real killer. He smiled slightly at the thought. A real killer, but he could see through that exterior. A lot easier than he let on.  “Maa, Reborn, did you lose that much faith in my ability to get the job done?”  His voice sounded unusual, distant, even. The swordsman shifted his weight slightly, kicking the gravel underneath him. He felt like a child that got in trouble, for some reason. As though he was out of place. These kinds of things weren’t really his style, but it couldn’t be helped. Not really.

The mission was to inspect the local drug lord, mainly because there was talk of large-based weapons-- nuclear, even-- being tossed between rivals. He didn’t much like the politics, but they were hired for a job, and they had to complete it. It didn’t go as smoothly as planned, though. Things got ugly, him and Reborn-- his partner-- split up. He had no choice but to revert back to his killer instincts, the very instincts that got him into the underworld in the first. Him, starting off as an oblivious worker at his father’s sushi joint-- and now this. 

[I’m losing all of my threads so……. //goes to check. OMFG I NEED TO REPLY TO YOU WHOOPS. //but is so tired ;w;]