Muraki Kazutaka (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
letsplaysurgeon) wrote2011-05-26 03:25 am
letsplaysurgeon) wrote2011-05-26 03:25 am
Case 004 [Voice/Action]
[Due to the recent disclosure from the last experiment, Muraki no longer feels the need to hide his voice--even from the ones who know about him. His tone is warm and casual, as if he didn't realize there isn’t a filter over his post. Or that he was the type of gent who didn't need a filter because he was a good banana, through and through.]
It's difficult not to notice the recent stream of newcomers over the journal system and in the village. Salutations are in order, as you will be staying here for quite some time. And don't be offended if I don't refer to you collectively as "New Feathers." [As it sounds like something a four-year old came up with.] ...But I will welcome you. I'm Muraki Kazutaka, a doctor that has settled into the local clinic. It is always open if you ever need anything. And of course I offer my own services in any way that I can.
[He stops for a moment, and noise can be heard in the background: a sharp metallic click, and then a steady release of breath. He lights a cigarette and proceeds to smoke while he talks.] If this place has anything going for it, it's the variety of medicine that different people bring with them. I've seen practices similar to my own, and some that my colleagues back home would consider crude, if not primitive.
I have to wonder, with this irrefutable evidence of other universes, if perhaps there is a world where medicine has advanced to the level that I had always dreamed of: one that is past sickness and death. [A offhanded chuckle.] Or perhaps that would only cause sickness to evolve the way a mouse finds a way to outsmart the updated mouse trap.
[Despite the nature of his journal entry, Muraki spends very little time at the clinic that day. He leaves after a few hours and goes by the flower shop, picking up a bouquet of light pink roses and brings them back to his apartment. They are arranged with care in a vase next to his bed, on the side that he rarely sleeps on.
He doesn't care much for the heat wave, or the sensation of his clothes sticking to his skin like an envelope. He stays inside until the late evening, when it cools--and it's more likely he'll run into the one he is most interested in seeing.
Muraki was more of a night owl, anyway.]
It's difficult not to notice the recent stream of newcomers over the journal system and in the village. Salutations are in order, as you will be staying here for quite some time. And don't be offended if I don't refer to you collectively as "New Feathers." [As it sounds like something a four-year old came up with.] ...But I will welcome you. I'm Muraki Kazutaka, a doctor that has settled into the local clinic. It is always open if you ever need anything. And of course I offer my own services in any way that I can.
[He stops for a moment, and noise can be heard in the background: a sharp metallic click, and then a steady release of breath. He lights a cigarette and proceeds to smoke while he talks.] If this place has anything going for it, it's the variety of medicine that different people bring with them. I've seen practices similar to my own, and some that my colleagues back home would consider crude, if not primitive.
I have to wonder, with this irrefutable evidence of other universes, if perhaps there is a world where medicine has advanced to the level that I had always dreamed of: one that is past sickness and death. [A offhanded chuckle.] Or perhaps that would only cause sickness to evolve the way a mouse finds a way to outsmart the updated mouse trap.
[Despite the nature of his journal entry, Muraki spends very little time at the clinic that day. He leaves after a few hours and goes by the flower shop, picking up a bouquet of light pink roses and brings them back to his apartment. They are arranged with care in a vase next to his bed, on the side that he rarely sleeps on.
He doesn't care much for the heat wave, or the sensation of his clothes sticking to his skin like an envelope. He stays inside until the late evening, when it cools--and it's more likely he'll run into the one he is most interested in seeing.
Muraki was more of a night owl, anyway.]
[action]
So he catches the shift of Haine's shoulder and follows the line of his arm curiously to the gun at his hip. And he stares at it for a while, face still vacant of emotion, because he doesn't know what to think of it. He knows for a fact that neither Tsuzuki nor the boy would send someone else to take care of him, both knowing what he was capable of...but he can't think of anyone else that would have a grudge against him. He hasn't even killed a patient in Luceti by mistake.
Then he just feels exhausted. That much is suggested by his flat tone of voice when he answers.] I'm not sure what there is to understand.
[action]
There's some pretty nasty rumors going around.
[He doesn't go for the gun, not yet, but he doesn't back off either. Besides, the safety is still on.]
If they're bullshit? You've got nothing to worry about. Fuck, I don't even care if half of them are true as long as you leave me and mine alone.
[action]
...I'm in no position to prove or disprove what you've heard, Haine, as I could care less about rumors.
[Then his visible eye becomes a little thinner, though the line of his mouth remains lax--showing that he doesn't have anything to worry about.] But I've never seen you before in my life, and I'm not sure what mutual company we keep. I'm perfectly content to keep it that way, if you are. [And that was the truth. At the moment, Haine strikes him as kind of obnoxious, and doesn't fascinate him enough to make him a target. As for what was 'his,' as long as he wasn't counting Tsuzuki in that ambiguous circle, Muraki doesn't care about that either.
And if Haine was, well...he was going to need something bigger than a gun to make him stop.
He shrugs his shoulders and turns his face away.] Make of that what you will.
[action]
Nill. She's dealt with enough shit here already. Every few weeks there's a new experiment and- She doesn't need anyone trying to fix her, get it?
[At that, he finally does let his hand slip from his gun to move nervously to rub the side of his neck. A sign of weakness maybe, but an unconscious one. His expression never slips though, never says any less.]
[action]
To imply that he would lay a finger on her, or force her to see what he was, implies he would do the same to the only woman he's ever been capable of caring about.
Tension flickers under his skin, down his arms to his fingertips. He flexes them and tightens his lips before he turns to Haine again with practiced composure.]
Who said that I would do anything to her?
[His voice is not hurt, or even accusatory: he still has no interest in Haine. He's just the messenger telling him about a piece of misshapen, offensive gossip. If he answers his question, he might even be thankful.]
[action]
But when it came right down to it, he would keep her safe. He would see that none of these creeps, doctors, or other bastards put their hands on her. She was special, different, and she, out of all the others, actually understood him.]
No one I trust any more than I trust you. Why else would I come to the source?
[Rumors can be a bitch, but nothing is as good as seeing with his own eyes. He hasn't known Draco any longer than he's known this one. And he doesn't trust either one in the slightest.]
If you don't know yourself, just how many enemies do you have doctor?
[action]
Though he doesn't give a crap about the boy, he knows him well. He has trouble believing that the boy would tattle on him like this. Now Muraki was morbidly intrigued. It seems someone is running around Luceti who not only knew him, they were under the idiotic assumption that they had a right to interfere with him.]
...No one of any substance. [He answers in a bland tone of voice.] Though now I can guarantee that we'll never have to see each other again.
Do you have anything else to slander me with falsely? Or are we finished now?
Re: [action]
[The guy is so quick to be defensive and Haine's uncertain if it's because he's guilty or because he's actually offended by the claims. Either way, it sounds like he won't be a problem. And if he wants to think badly of Haine for it, Haine couldn't give a shit either way. Still, the whole situation makes him uncomfortable. Like he's being made to be the bad one here. But it's better to make a pre-emptive strike than end up like last time, stuck in a warehouse and surrounded by 50 pricks with guns that wanted to take Nill away.]
That's it.