Post by Dobu on Oct 15, 2024 0:57:31 GMT
Her ears perked up as she finished the first cigarette. A part of her had hoped that one would be enough for the caramel-tone Testua to be done and ready to go, but apparently that was hoping for too much. That was when she retrieved the phone from her pocket and eyed the screen for several seconds. Her reflection displaying a pair of glowing red eyes staring directly back at her; an unacceptable compromise in her book of rules for public exposure. The last thing she needed was anyone taking a photo of her with evidence as a claimant and showing it to the world. She’d almost immediately have to no doubt worry about other claimants attempting to approach her in any capacity… and every single one of them would die.
One blink and she’d be staring at black orbs. Another and she’d be met with the vibrant blue her family was known for. She could recall her mother and father arguing for a substantial period of time over whose eyes she inherited, but she could never understand. Both of their eyes were naturally blue so it didn’t really matter, but in the end Gahbreal still folded and let Cyva win the argument. The very thought made her sigh in disappointment. With as often as their opinions differed from one another she could not, for a single moment, recall a moment in which the two of them actually ever physically fought. Meanwhile, she had caused substantial harm to several one night stands in the past. Then again, she could only conclude marriage was a different story.
Maybe I should update grandmother, but if I do that she’ll only worry… Grandpa probably wouldn’t care, but he’d tell grandmother… Who could I inform of this that wouldn’t care enough to get in my way and yet will also keep tabs and give me information?
She placed another cigarette between her lips, the lighter flinging embers onto her lap which were quickly swept away before she lit the the edge and took a deep breathe. A tap on the screen and a scan of her face would allow her to comb through the applications until reaching her messages. There was only one name she was looking for when dealing with Ballafex. That was why she stopped scrolling through her contacts upon reaching Zorelle. She didn’t plan to say much, but she would say enough. A stream of smoke flowing from her lips as her fingers tapped the keyboard.
‘Hey. I may have found a potential doll who can lead me to Ballafex. Don’t be surprised if he dies soon.’
Several seconds passed before a response arrived.
‘Seeing a message from you I thought this would be important. Yet here I am seeing more of your bullshit. I don’t care what you do. In fact, it'll be better for me if you get rid of him. But at least try not to get yourself killed.’
‘You think that bum would kill me?’
‘If you don’t take things seriously like you should. There’s a reason he’s lived as long as he has, and a reason the other claimants want nothing to do with him. Just remember that.’
‘I’ll keep that in mind, if he manages to survive the first hit.’
Gabi turned off the screen before tossing the phone into the center console. With that out of the way all she could do now was think about how she would hang up her newest trophy. Maybe she’d personally have his skull hollowed out and made into a pen holder for her office? But that only made her feel as if it were too normal. She’d much rather have his entire skeleton embedded in the wall of her trophy room with all the other bones she had collected. Bones of such high quality should certainly be displayed in full, after all.
Her pleasurable ideas were interrupted however by the sound of the passenger side door opening and shutting with a casual thud. Her head turning to see Jaffe now sitting in the truck along with her. For a moment she was surprised. Pleasantly surprised, but surprised nonetheless. She couldn’t recall the last time casual clothing looked so good on someone… well, someone other than herself… and her mother… but that was besides the point! What did matter was how she could dive on the woman right now if she wanted, but then she fell into her most prominent habit. Her nose sniffed the air, all it took was one, and she could smell two distinct things. Her showering supplies still fresh on the water claimant, and the scent of another person clinging to her clothes. Another claimant she could not identify.
Interesting. Maybe a roommate? Possibly a romantic partner? I don’t know many other reasons to keep your clothes so close to someone else… As if I fucking care.
“Nice truck. Compensating for something?” She couldn’t place her finger okay why, but hearing her chuckle was pissing her off. Cute… but still pissing her off.
“You say that as if I need to compensate for anything, but I’m already perfect.”
"Is it uncomfortable to hide them like that? Where do they go? I sure hope you aren't hiding them because of me. I thought you were stronger than losing a couple of feathers, little bird."
“Are you always this nosy?” She asked as her brow furrowed. Another sigh as she rolled down her window and shifted the truck into drive. “Yes it’s uncomfortable. The wings are a part of me, but they are still darkness. That’s why they can grow back if damaged. All I’ve done is condense them.” Her eyes were then focused onto the road itself. Leaving the farm was always annoying, and if she didn’t keep her eyes on the road there was always a chance she’d run down some animal that decided the road was a proper place to be. But she still made sure to say, “And don’t get full of yourself. Those feathers are worth a lot, and anymore unnecessary instances of their removal will cost you limbs.”
She grabbed her phone and quickly swiped through the apps before connecting it to the vehicle itself. She hated driving without music, and she wasn’t going to. Before long she settle on what she wanted to hear, Father Said by Red Handed Denial. A band she had only come to know when performing in the same venue. This song was specifically one of her favorites, and one she had once accepted to duet at one of their concerts when she had shown up as an unexpected guest. For now, however, it served as a means to drown out the sounds of the truck navigating the bumpy dirt roads.
“Butter Doll’s isn’t far from here. It should only take us about fifteen minutes once we hit the main road. So, tell me something,” she started while looking at the cows roaming through the vast fields. “Your occupation. What is it?”
The question wasn’t entirely necessary. It wasn’t like she couldn't tell Jaffe was skilled in some capacity. Specifically in the same realm as herself… murder… No matter how hard a lot of people tried, it was difficult to hide the subtle nuances. The way you choose to walk, sit, breathe. The way your fingers navigate the things they touch, the people they touch. Not to mention how well you can hide a weapon on your person. Every single one of them reminded her of one person. Kikana. That woman could hide a weapon on herself even if she were completely naked. Jaffe was no doubt a sneak of some sort.
“There’s no point in trying to hide it. You’ve already proven you know more about me than you truly have any business knowing. Enough to warrant a death in most cases, but I’d rather it not come to that. Or, well… at least not before you give me what I want.”
A part of her spoke entirely playfully with a smirk plastered on her face, but she was also entirely serious with every word. There were a handful of small details which gave away Jaffe knowing personal information about her. Especially how this woman she had only met the night prior knew of her favorite place to eat, and one which was nearby her family home nonetheless. If this were a normal interaction she’d have already taken her to her grandmother’s and promptly had her brought to the Chisuke family estate. There she could be properly interrogated by masters in the craft, but she wanted to solve this without the extra work that would involve.
There was also a part of her which wanted to keep her alive for the most part, although she had no idea why.
It took a few minutes, and her chosen song had come to an end, but they finally hit the main road the farm connected to and the road which would lead them to her favorite bakery. The playlist shuffled to yet another of her favorite songs, and the upbeat melody contrasted the first song entirely. Not The Same by Bodyjar. More of a favorite than the last and one she had been introduced to by none other than her father, as ironic as it had managed to be. He introduced her to the song for the rhythm, she held onto the song for the lyrics in the future. She couldn’t help but bob her head to the beat and sing along as she always had. But she did not smile. The song brought equal parts pleasure that it did displeasure.