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baccano! (d1) firo porchainezo

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[Firo arranges a series of faka knives, flying knives and throwing spikes along a table, testing their weight, checking their balance. He finally chooses one of the faka knives, grasps it lightly by the point, and takes aim at a target get up against the side of the bar. He seems to be keeping up a quiet stream of talk, but it's too quiet to make out what he's saying.

He shifts his weight and the knife snaps from his fingers in a molten silver streak, burying itself in the center of the target.]

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[ Would you like to play with a creepy doll, Firo? Of course you would. A few black feathers also dig into the target with a bit of intensity. Suigintou's sitting over on the bar, smirking. ]

[He chooses another faka knife, aims, lets fly; it slashes through one of the feathers and thumps into stuffing. Firo looks up at her mildly.]

Not too shabby.

Unmoving targets pose no real challenge. [ She's inspecting a feather idly. ]

True enough, but I haven't practiced in a while. 'sides, moving targets would be a bit hard to set up here without slicing someone who wanders by at the wrong moment.

[ And Suigintou's oh-so-concerned about that. Really. ] And? Targets that don't fight back are a bore.

[And he's used to dealing with sociopaths, being in the mafia. :\ He shrugs.] The basics are dull at times. They're usually the most important bits, too.

[This time he selects a flying knife, gripping it between his fingers just around the hilt and throwing it like a miniature javelin. Thump. Another bullseye.]

Edited 2008-07-07 20:08 (UTC)

I suppose a medium would have to practice such things.

Suppose a medium would. [Smiles at her.]

Who are you planning on killing then?

No one that I know of. [He picks up another faka knife, flips it into the air, catches it as it comes down and rockets it toward the target. Another feather split in half.]

[ Have a fresh batch of black feathers, Firo. ] How disappointing. It has been so boring here.

[Why thank you. He starts plucking knives from the table almost at random and skinning through the feathers.] I dunno. I've found entertainment enough.

[ Suigintou smirks a little and vanishes. When she returns she has several stuffed toys and dolls with her. She sits amidst them, one bear in her arms. It would be a cute scene if not for it being, well, Suigintou. ]

[About to throw another, but he pauses, eyebrows raised.]

[ Suigintou simply looks back at him, impassive. ]

[He splits another feather.] Nice collection.

Oh my.

[Uhhhhh.] Miss. [He goes to remove his hat and remembers he isn't wearing it.] Something wrong?

[Blinks] No, nothing at all wrong...

Those are some lovely weapons.

[Selects a throwing spike and pricks his finger with the point, nodding as it draws a bit of blood.] They're keen, yeah.

[He grips the spike like a hammer and lets fly. The heavy weapon sends up a puff of dust when it hits the target.]

[Tilts head and watches] Hm...

[A bit distractedly as he looks over the rest of the weaponry.]

Hm?

They're wonderful.

Never really been near weaponry [edges a bit closer]

No? [He stands to one side a little so she can get a better look.] Grew up around them, myself. They're pretty and all, and I've got some care for them, but they're killing tools, first and always.

[Edges very close] Lovely...

[Picks up one of the flying knives carefully] I somehow don't think that'll be a problem.

[He leans his hip against the table and watches her.] These ones not so much. They're for betting, more for sport. But they serve in a pinch.

Ah... Well, if you aim it right.

Firo Prochainezo, by the way.

Juni Swan, a pleasure.

Remind me never to get you mad.

[Grin.] Don't get me feelin' evil.

[Stands back, watching for awhile before he speaks up.]

You're pretty good.

Edited 2008-07-07 22:39 (UTC)

Would hope so. Been doing this since I was nine.

That young? [Smirks a bit and picks up a faka knife.] Good quality, well balanced.

Started out hunting rabbits in Central Park. Love rabbit. I picked them out myself--they'd better be aces.

You hunted rabbits in Central Park? ...Well. I suppose it's good to be industrious.

[Lifts the knife up and down, testing its weight.]

Well. Yeah. I had to eat.

...Oh, right. Depression.

[Shrug.] That and my parents copped it.

[Is silent for a moment, turning the knife over in his hand.] We do what we can, I suppose.

And I learned something useful in the process. [Plucks a knife from the table and sends is zinging into the center of the target.]

[Smirks.] And I'm sure it comes in quite handy.

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