[ again, the recurring pattern of people in his life who give answers to questions that aren't actually answers, is increasingly apparent. 704 isn't sure what that says about him or them and fortunately or unfortunately he's not the type to care too much about it. still, that he notices at all equates to minute annoyance. his gaze drops briefly to rune's pockets as he slides his hands inside, then smooth back up to his face. he could further discuss out here, which would almost definitely end the way their last conversation did as far as the reaper is concerned; he could.
but for his own reasons he decides it's better to do whatever talking they might inside. sighing, he moves to enter the passcode and let both himself and rune in. a catalog reminiscent one bedroom style, the space is still considerably more ample than most and the modern interior matches the equally up-to-date minimalist design of the exterior with its matte finished bells and whistles (read: various lighting, the kitchen -- never used of course, etc.)
shoes off at the door, he indicates that rune can do the same. though he does almost everything in his power to avoid their existence being justified, there is a pair of guest slippers he tugs out for him. there's politeness in 704 despite everything, but it's almost habitual rather than considerate; some give and take that.
the few steps in bring them to the living room -- though one can see both the bedroom and kitchen from where they're standing -- and 704 figures that's far enough. he sets both the phone still in hand and the one he dropped into his pocket, down on the coffee table next to his closed laptop -- a reminder of reports to finish. then he turns to face rune again, supposing he's followed him this far since he came this far in the first place to try to give 704 who knows what, something 704 almost certainly intends to reject.
as he absently pushes the hood back, inside now and all, he tilts his head and might, for some, put one in mind, however shortly, of a grey eyed black cat. ]
I told you I didn't need anything.
[ he's not even asking; he knows he did, but unlike the terseness of his texts, even 704 has some softening tells: the way his mild tone sounds just tired not outright rude (yet), the way he waits for rune's reply oddly remnant of patience he's not especially known for. ]
[ he tries to remember the layout of his place this time.
before, rune hadn't had much energy to really focus on anything beyond the slightest details of 704 himself, and he notes the real lack of personal touch throughout even despite its nicety. of course, he'd probably be the same way aside from his work space and generally is; if anyone saw the state of his room – of which consists a bed, a nightstand, and a place to store his clothes – they would wonder what he spends his time doing given how disastrous it all is. he's only meticulous with his spells, and that, unfortunately, is simply out of obsession. but 704's apartment seems fitting for someone like him, wondering if he would pick up and leave it all behind if he had to.
it's a thought he entertains while he slips out of his shoes and nods his thanks for his hospitality, not bothering to sit or anything else when 704 throws out that particular statement. given their last exchange, he supposes he should have suspected it. perhaps 704 never wanted to see him again unless he was some name to collect (and highly doubtful because rune won't die until he says he will, an opinion no one can change), or perhaps he'd needed more time. whatever it is, rune only crosses his arms and looks at him almost a bit too sharply before his own expression eases. ]
It doesn't matter what you told me. [ he pauses, disliking how harsh that sounds. ] Anyway – it's nothing anyone else can give you. I'm not entirely sure what it will do for you, but I wanted to try something different .
[ rune reaches back into his pocket for the bottle and offers it to 704 without further explanation. ]
[ to say 704 eyes the bottle warily would be accurate. to say that 704's 'wary expression' doesn't vary much from his default expression would also be true; but it does vary, just a little, the brief pinch to his brow that smooths away fast and the way his lips thin. rune doesn't himself remind him of his boss, but something about the way he proffers the item to him does and it raises his subtle but very real hackles all the more. ]
"Something different"? What is it?
[ something only rune can give him? not sure what it will do? these are not words that fill 704 with confidence -- not that he supposes that matters. it hasn't occurred to him yet that this is a thing he has to drink, presuming he wants what it has to offer. maybe it's because he genuinely hasn't considered it like that -- too tired and honestly confused -- that he almost reaches out to take it; almost. his hand pauses, an awkward hover above rune's open palm before he quickly retracts it and turns away. the slope of the hood and the shirt underneath are such that the markings on his nape are visible for the second it takes 704 to turn forward again. then he peers up at rune's face rather than the gift.
but there's no point in it really; he can't read a thing off of rune and almost laughs at himself for thinking he could. it's really not his forte even on his better days and this has, decidedly, not been one of those. to a point, he can understand wanting to repay what one considers a debt; he hates owing people himself and avoids it at all costs. it's hypocritical of him to refuse rune so staunchly, but refusal is 704's knee-jerk response to most things; like he's forgotten how to say 'yes' to anyone for one reason or another.
his gaze falls to the bottle again after all. the way it catches light and shadow or perhaps almost seems to be like light and shadow is, on a purely surface level, captivating. 704 wonders distantly what it's made of even though that's not what he meant, exactly, when he asked. ]
[ some part of him should feel offended that he doesn't take it, even just to hold it. but rune knows his explanation is vague, allowing more questions than answers, and for a brief second, he entertains the idea of grabbing 704's wrist and forcing it into his hand. then, it would be out of his control. but he's not so dissuaded that he pauses to take it and then ultimately rescind his offer, instead taking the opportunity to set it on the counter near the kitchen. the soft lighting of the room reflects through the glass and the contents of the bottle, causing it to shimmer, and rune wonders, not for the first time, if that was a side effect of using 704's own blood or something else.
he leaves it alone and settles his hands back in the pockets of his coat. ]
Something different than I usually do. [ he writes spells, but he's never been particularly keen on potions. honestly, he should have asked ciro for help in that department. ] If you want the specifics of its contents, I can send it to you later. Essentially, it's magic – like a spell.
[ rune hesitates then, gaze drawn back to the small jar and torn. he's never anything but truthful—to a fault, most would say. and really, he sees no point in lying to 704 about what it might do, which is why he said he wasn't certain. there had been plenty of intentions with it, hours spent pouring over old texts and trying to uncover as much information as there had possibly been written about reapers, but in the end, he had to guess at a lot of it. he's already working on something else that will be much more stable; he just needs to interrogate a few people before finalizing it.
until then... well, 704 would just have to deal with the aftermath as it came. ]
I can't give you any sort of freedom. [ yet. ] But it might help you in other ways.
[ this time his sigh is audible. there isn't, academically, a risk-oriented bone in 704's tired body. that said, he's taken plenty of risks simply not viewing them as such; more often: what had to be done, or what should have been done, so on and so forth. but the nature of that kind of behavior is that it goes unnoticed by the one doing it. he knows, on a very basic level, just accepting what rune gives him and trying something even the creator himself isn't a hundred percent sure of, is just foolish. some would see it as a sign of trust, but that's a moot point; it doesn't feel like either of them is asking for that. rune simply wants things to be even -- as far as 704 can tell, and perhaps to learn something about the nature of the magic he's written inside that jar. and 704 just wants him to leave done as done and not bother.
but it would be a lie to say he isn't curious.
lies aren't something he excels at, though he tells them -- usually by omission -- from time to time, smaller and greater. rune says 'freedom' and 704 can only stare at him like he's perhaps slightly out of his mind in that it would have even been on the docket for consideration. this look smooths in favor of something dryer at the follow-up though. well, sure. something is likely to do Something, rather than Nothing. but what?
suppose, 704 considers silently, gaze slipping from the magic to rune and back again, it 'works' in whatever capacity rune expects or half-expects? what? to him there is no notion of partial liberation; and probably there should not be. if this is due to his own sin then it's his responsibility to carry it out, and it doesn't matter that he can't remember because that's just the nature of becoming a reaper. one might call it a blessing.
inwardly, he flinches. outwardly, he walks to the counter and rests one hesitant hand atop it, near enough to the jar it's not accidental. part of him, a part he tries very hard to keep crushed under his own heel and quiet quiet quiet, poses the not unrealistic likelihood: even if he drinks it, nothing will happen...so why not?
704 is really not a 'why not' person.
he wonders, vaguely, if maybe, when he was alive, he used to be.
it doesn't feel within the realm of possibility, but most things don't. ]
'In other ways'.
[ at this point 704 might as well take up part-time as a parrot. but he pinches the jar between his fingers and lifts it against the artificial light, watching the sway and shift of the liquid inside, thoughtful. it's only now that he's touching the tiny vessel that he feels it. there's no other way to say it really; it's almost a physical kind of pull. he blinks. for some reason, it gives him the feeling of something trying to return, which would make more sense to him (in a weird, nonsensical way), if he knew his blood was in it. if he was to compare it to another feeling, it would be the gradual hazy fall into drug induced slumber; except he's quite awake. he lowers it back to the counter but doesn't let go of it; strangely feeling like he can't. ]
When you made this, did you really consider my 'freedom' as a possible result? [ he shakes his head. ] You shouldn't waste your time.
[ it's a levelheaded gaze and a levelheaded tone neither meant to be rude nor considerate; quiet. he surprises himself by asking at all, and the follow-up feels more his usual speed. magic that can effect the contract of a reaper would be beyond...well, he can't even figure it out actually. yama comes to mind but even he...
...
but you're curious.
he is. and there's that pull. the pinch of his fingers against the jar is taut, paler than even usual. the words 'I won't drink it' or the like, have not actually left him. somehow it feels like they would be a lie if he said them now, and he dislikes the compulsion as much as the indecision. ]
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no subject
but for his own reasons he decides it's better to do whatever talking they might inside. sighing, he moves to enter the passcode and let both himself and rune in. a catalog reminiscent one bedroom style, the space is still considerably more ample than most and the modern interior matches the equally up-to-date minimalist design of the exterior with its matte finished bells and whistles (read: various lighting, the kitchen -- never used of course, etc.)
shoes off at the door, he indicates that rune can do the same. though he does almost everything in his power to avoid their existence being justified, there is a pair of guest slippers he tugs out for him. there's politeness in 704 despite everything, but it's almost habitual rather than considerate; some give and take that.
the few steps in bring them to the living room -- though one can see both the bedroom and kitchen from where they're standing -- and 704 figures that's far enough. he sets both the phone still in hand and the one he dropped into his pocket, down on the coffee table next to his closed laptop -- a reminder of reports to finish. then he turns to face rune again, supposing he's followed him this far since he came this far in the first place to try to give 704 who knows what, something 704 almost certainly intends to reject.
as he absently pushes the hood back, inside now and all, he tilts his head and might, for some, put one in mind, however shortly, of a grey eyed black cat. ]
I told you I didn't need anything.
[ he's not even asking; he knows he did, but unlike the terseness of his texts, even 704 has some softening tells: the way his mild tone sounds just tired not outright rude (yet), the way he waits for rune's reply oddly remnant of patience he's not especially known for. ]
no subject
before, rune hadn't had much energy to really focus on anything beyond the slightest details of 704 himself, and he notes the real lack of personal touch throughout even despite its nicety. of course, he'd probably be the same way aside from his work space and generally is; if anyone saw the state of his room – of which consists a bed, a nightstand, and a place to store his clothes – they would wonder what he spends his time doing given how disastrous it all is. he's only meticulous with his spells, and that, unfortunately, is simply out of obsession. but 704's apartment seems fitting for someone like him, wondering if he would pick up and leave it all behind if he had to.
it's a thought he entertains while he slips out of his shoes and nods his thanks for his hospitality, not bothering to sit or anything else when 704 throws out that particular statement. given their last exchange, he supposes he should have suspected it. perhaps 704 never wanted to see him again unless he was some name to collect (and highly doubtful because rune won't die until he says he will, an opinion no one can change), or perhaps he'd needed more time. whatever it is, rune only crosses his arms and looks at him almost a bit too sharply before his own expression eases. ]
It doesn't matter what you told me. [ he pauses, disliking how harsh that sounds. ] Anyway – it's nothing anyone else can give you. I'm not entirely sure what it will do for you, but I wanted to try something different .
[ rune reaches back into his pocket for the bottle and offers it to 704 without further explanation. ]
no subject
"Something different"? What is it?
[ something only rune can give him? not sure what it will do? these are not words that fill 704 with confidence -- not that he supposes that matters. it hasn't occurred to him yet that this is a thing he has to drink, presuming he wants what it has to offer. maybe it's because he genuinely hasn't considered it like that -- too tired and honestly confused -- that he almost reaches out to take it; almost. his hand pauses, an awkward hover above rune's open palm before he quickly retracts it and turns away. the slope of the hood and the shirt underneath are such that the markings on his nape are visible for the second it takes 704 to turn forward again. then he peers up at rune's face rather than the gift.
but there's no point in it really; he can't read a thing off of rune and almost laughs at himself for thinking he could. it's really not his forte even on his better days and this has, decidedly, not been one of those. to a point, he can understand wanting to repay what one considers a debt; he hates owing people himself and avoids it at all costs. it's hypocritical of him to refuse rune so staunchly, but refusal is 704's knee-jerk response to most things; like he's forgotten how to say 'yes' to anyone for one reason or another.
his gaze falls to the bottle again after all. the way it catches light and shadow or perhaps almost seems to be like light and shadow is, on a purely surface level, captivating. 704 wonders distantly what it's made of even though that's not what he meant, exactly, when he asked. ]
no subject
he leaves it alone and settles his hands back in the pockets of his coat. ]
Something different than I usually do. [ he writes spells, but he's never been particularly keen on potions. honestly, he should have asked ciro for help in that department. ] If you want the specifics of its contents, I can send it to you later. Essentially, it's magic – like a spell.
[ rune hesitates then, gaze drawn back to the small jar and torn. he's never anything but truthful—to a fault, most would say. and really, he sees no point in lying to 704 about what it might do, which is why he said he wasn't certain. there had been plenty of intentions with it, hours spent pouring over old texts and trying to uncover as much information as there had possibly been written about reapers, but in the end, he had to guess at a lot of it. he's already working on something else that will be much more stable; he just needs to interrogate a few people before finalizing it.
until then... well, 704 would just have to deal with the aftermath as it came. ]
I can't give you any sort of freedom. [ yet. ] But it might help you in other ways.
no subject
but it would be a lie to say he isn't curious.
lies aren't something he excels at, though he tells them -- usually by omission -- from time to time, smaller and greater. rune says 'freedom' and 704 can only stare at him like he's perhaps slightly out of his mind in that it would have even been on the docket for consideration. this look smooths in favor of something dryer at the follow-up though. well, sure. something is likely to do Something, rather than Nothing. but what?
suppose, 704 considers silently, gaze slipping from the magic to rune and back again, it 'works' in whatever capacity rune expects or half-expects? what? to him there is no notion of partial liberation; and probably there should not be. if this is due to his own sin then it's his responsibility to carry it out, and it doesn't matter that he can't remember because that's just the nature of becoming a reaper. one might call it a blessing.
inwardly, he flinches. outwardly, he walks to the counter and rests one hesitant hand atop it, near enough to the jar it's not accidental. part of him, a part he tries very hard to keep crushed under his own heel and quiet quiet quiet, poses the not unrealistic likelihood: even if he drinks it, nothing will happen...so why not?
704 is really not a 'why not' person.
he wonders, vaguely, if maybe, when he was alive, he used to be.
it doesn't feel within the realm of possibility, but most things don't. ]
'In other ways'.
[ at this point 704 might as well take up part-time as a parrot. but he pinches the jar between his fingers and lifts it against the artificial light, watching the sway and shift of the liquid inside, thoughtful. it's only now that he's touching the tiny vessel that he feels it. there's no other way to say it really; it's almost a physical kind of pull. he blinks. for some reason, it gives him the feeling of something trying to return, which would make more sense to him (in a weird, nonsensical way), if he knew his blood was in it. if he was to compare it to another feeling, it would be the gradual hazy fall into drug induced slumber; except he's quite awake. he lowers it back to the counter but doesn't let go of it; strangely feeling like he can't. ]
When you made this, did you really consider my 'freedom' as a possible result? [ he shakes his head. ] You shouldn't waste your time.
[ it's a levelheaded gaze and a levelheaded tone neither meant to be rude nor considerate; quiet. he surprises himself by asking at all, and the follow-up feels more his usual speed. magic that can effect the contract of a reaper would be beyond...well, he can't even figure it out actually. yama comes to mind but even he...
...
but you're curious.
he is. and there's that pull. the pinch of his fingers against the jar is taut, paler than even usual. the words 'I won't drink it' or the like, have not actually left him. somehow it feels like they would be a lie if he said them now, and he dislikes the compulsion as much as the indecision. ]