vatheon | (no subject)

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(no subject)

who: henry cooldown & whoever wants to play
when: mid-afternoon
where: outside the yutopil apartments
style: doesn't matter
status: open

He could hear his neighbor, who was also his brother, stomping around next door and nobody can get any sort of peace and quiet like that. Without as so much a grumble, Henry had gotten washed up, gotten dressed, and grabbed his newly fixed cross saber to take for another spin. It was fixed a long while ago by Darkleer, but it never hurts to try it out again and see if it's still in tip-top condition. He never went to another mechanic before for a reason back in Santa Destroy. It's hard to trust new people, especially as you grow older. Too cynical.

Outside, he finds an open area and starts working on some forms. He's sorely tempted to try out the homing orbs, but he'd have to find a better place and a proper target for that. He reaches into his pocket to pull out a small wiping cloth he had tucked away and starts polishing the handle, humming under his breath.

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Travis was, of course, the loudest person to ever live by. Between the anime marathons with Kotona and the video games and just being a general loud bastard, Henry probably got little peace. Now if he had gotten laid too, that would be even more noise to deal with.

But today, Travis was out and about. He had finished working for the locals and was covered in grass clippings and dirt, since they asked him to garden. Not that Travis was any good at gardening. he had such a brown thumb that chances were, those flowers would die within a day. But who cared? He was now in possession of more tokens.

He was heading back "home" to change when he spotted a familiar gray-clad douche nearby. "Polishing your junk in public, brother?"

The ever so familiar voice causes Henry to look up, but not to cease or pause in his polishing. He tries not to make a displeased look at the crass joke, narrowing his eyes and offering a dry smile.

"My sword is most certainly not junk, brother," he says in a clipped tone. "Finished crawling around on your hands and knees in the dirt?"

Travis frowned, picking dirt out of his ears. "Oh fuck you. I need cash." Well technically, it was tokens, but it was the cash of this weird Atlantis of a world... bubble... thing. Travis needed his anime and game fix. This place was boring without them. No rank battles, no douchebags to fight. Boring boring boring.

And so that lead him back to anime and games.

"Cash, eh? Thinking of getting yourself a trinket from the Nostalgia Nook then?"

Henry had been thinking of taking a look around there himself and see if he could earn some tokens to get something back. But the sad part is that he couldn't think of anything he wanted to bring over.

"Trinkets? Fuck that," Travis frowned. "They have video games. Fucking video games~! Better than the lame ass ones that came with the room!" He was like an addict. But then again, the fish games that came with the room were really really lame and boring.

"The room came with games? It's like they knew you were coming," he says in a distinctively uninterested tone, going back to buffing a bit of metal. "But nevermind, it seems you're adjusting quite well, despite the circumstances."

Henry finds himself at a loss to do sometimes. He was more of a working man, and now that has no work here (death being non-permanent and all), he finds himself with a lot more time on his hands than usual. He'd have to go out and look for something to occupy his time with someday.

"Not that they left anything sweet in the room," Travis frowned. Damn fish games. He was so tired of the fish motifs. It was so overdone. Yes, they were in a world under the water. Yes, there were lots of fish. But that didn't mean they needed to overplay it.

"I'm sure they'll be willing to fall head over heels to please you," he replies with a chuckle, then brandishes his saber, swinging it as it hums and surges. "Did you at least bring your other toys with you?"

He swings his sword down again, a small cloud of dust swirling around him.

Travis rolled his eyes. The locals would fall head over heals to please the 'outsiders' except when it involved anything from that dumb Nostalgia Nook. Then they wanted tokens. God damn tokens!

"I wouldn't leave home without 'em," Travis replied. He wouldn't be caught dead without them. He probably slept with them in case some low-ranked n00b tried to get the better of him at night.

Come now, Travis. It's just a few measly tokens. Nothing to get your knickers in a twist over!

"Good to hear," he says, turning away to do a few forms, swinging the sword gently. It's mostly about poise and finesse at the moment. "We should definitely get ourselves warmed up with a bit of sparring now and then, don't you think?"

Of course it was! Stupid working. Stupid jobs. Blah.

Travis picked an old favorite off his belt, a remastered TsubakiIII, and prepared dramatically for a spar. "We have unfinished business." Still unfinished, or something.

"Ooh, getting right down to it," Henry coos, pulling his foot back into a more defensive stance, not quite as dramatically but with more grace, of course. "Don't ever change, baby brother."

A light tease, as he gives his saber a quick spin.

Travis frowned sharply. This patronizing attitude was grating on his nerves. AGAIN.

"oh fuck you!" Travis spat back. "You're, what, 4 minutes older? Pffft." He was ready for battle, holding his beam katana in a rather questionable position.

"Sometimes, four minutes is all it takes," Henry snickers, eyeing Travis's odd pose. "But I'm sure you'd know all about that."

Then with a twist of his foot, he lunges forward, sword extended out to the side.

"Oh fuck off," Travis frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what he meant but it was an insult. Everything out of his mouth lately was an insult. That bastard. 4 minutes could change everything.

Travis also charged forward, katana in hand, ready to finally beat the crap out of his brother. Bastard kept stealing kills and was just a total douche.

It was a poorly executed sex joke, but given the context, it was sort of hard to pick up on anyway. He didn't blame his brother at all for that. As long as he felt insulted by it, he felt he had done his job as a big brother.

But now as a fellow rival assassin, he steels his heart like usual and swings the saber in a horizontal slash, aiming to keep Travis off balance.

It annoyed him more than anything else. He wasn't sure if he should be insulted or not but whatever. He didn't care. It was fighting time!

Travis moved quickly, shifting the saber to almost vertical to block tin incoming slash. No way was he about to let Henry have the first move.

Their swords clash, sparking and humming loudly in protest. Henry smiles easily, though he makes a lowly grunting sound as he tries to force Travis back with a push or two against his saber.

"Nothing like a good contest to the death in morning, wouldn't you say?"

Travis wasn't going to give in. He worked to try to thwart Henry's attempt and turn the battle to his favor. He smirked. This was rather enjoyable

"Fucking right it is, best way to start the morning," Travis agreed. "Better than eating Wheaties."

"You think so highly of your breakfast cereal," Henry said with an observant tone, mocking him slightly. "You must be an utter mess of excitement when doing something more exciting!"

Blow after blow, their weapons continue to clash. Henry executes a series of quick slashes, flips and lunges like he did in their first fight together. It's rapid and strong, riddled with unblockable moves.

"Fuck the Wheaties!" Travis shot back. He kept up with Henry, dodging moves and sidestepping as much as he could when blocking wasn't enough. This was thoroughly enjoyable. It felt like forever since he'd had a good fight.

Henry just chuckles at him, doing a graceful flip backwards when Travis's slash gets dangerously close. He's not sure how damage and whatnot works outside of their usual environment, but it's best to be safe than sorry.

"Ohh, one minute you love your Wheaties and then the next moment you don't care? How fickle, Travis! I always considered you the loyal type, you know?"

Bastard moved. Oh well, that made this more fun. The consequences weren't exactly the most prevalent thing on Travis's mind.

Travis frowned. "They're just fucking Wheaties! Shit!" Why was he going on about Wheaties anyway? It was just a stupid reference. Why did he bring them up anyway?

"You brought it up, Travis! Don't take out your confusion and frustrations out on your dear brother, you hear now?" It's unfortunate that he does not understand a lot of American references.

Henry uses the most patronizing voice he can muster, blocking and parrying as he went, then steps back to charge his katana with a push of a button, then swings three orbs of crackling energy in his direction. And yes, they are homing in on him.

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