InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Get off my lawn!"

Sherlock Holmes (deducingyou) wrote in marinasylum,
@ 2011-07-10 01:05:00

Entry tags:

:action, kisame hoshigaki, sherlock holmes

[ Action | Closed ]
[ It was getting dark when Sherlock left the coffee shop, and by the time he'd pushed through Sector Five's clothing shop (atrocious task, and of course nothing has sleeves) the hour was growing late. He was about to give up and just head back to the Shelter when a hard wave of vertigo sent him snatching at the racks and going down. Oh.

For a moment, he had sat among a swathe of brightly colored shirts, ringed by a metal trolly that held them up. He did not panic; did not think much at all, in fact, beyond the way the room swam, until he suddenly could. The inevitable was happening. His body was failing him. There was a brief debate as to whether or not he could possibly make it to the shelter before his motor skills began to fail him, all the while clambering out of the mess while the world stood still. Thoughts after that were fogged and unimportant.

What's important is that, for better or for worse, he's laid up on the bench of one of the fitting rooms. He's tall, so his torso fits and the rest spills off. Somewhat on his side, eyes shut, dead to the world. Patches - practically pale enough to blend in with his skin - line the underside of the visible arm. His instincts had the good sense to shut the door behind him to afford him some privacy. He didn't lock it, though. ]

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 06:17 am UTC (link)

[Only a few days in, and Kisame had realized that, for better or worse, he would probably need more clothing here than simply what he'd brought sealed up in his scrolls. It was fine for traveling, of course, but the Akatsuki wasn't here--he wasn't only restricted to his uniform anymore, and he could probably use something that wasn't so bulky. Most of these things weren't in styles he was used to at all, so he had just picked a few items at random to try on--including one garish and absolutely tasteless Hawaiian shirt, more for his own amusement than anything else.

It was the sound of breathing that had sparked his interest once he had gotten into the fitting rooms, though, and his caution. He couldn't see anyone, couldn't hear any movement, couldn't discern anything but that breathing..... It sounded deep and steady enough for unconsciousness, though. But nobody would choose to sleep in a store, would they? Had someone been knocked out?

Well, he guessed his new job included ensuring that people were okay, even if he wasn't officially on duty yet. Kisame dropped his clothing onto a chair and warily opened the door, moving to stand over Sherlock and inspect him. He was laid up neatly enough that he couldn't have just spontaneously passed out--he was either placed there, or had laid down himself. But the breathing was steady, and he couldn't see--or smell or sense, for that matter--any injuries, though those patches looked a little concerning.... Some medical thing or another, presumably. Most things beyond first aid on the field were beyond him.

Ultimately, it was better to be safe than sorry. (He really, really wished his abilities weren't so reduced. Even with an open, unshielded chakra system like this, it was hard to get a precise reading on the man, other than that while he didn't seem badly injured, he didn't feel entirely healthy, either.) Kisame sighed and moved to lift Sherlock; if this wasn't serious after all, he'd probably wake before he was moved much, and Kisame could just apologize and leave him be. And if it was.... well, the hospital wasn't too far, and the man's vitals seemed stable.]

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	deducingyou 2011-07-10 06:40 am UTC (link)
	[ He's dead weight and unconscious, but he's also incredibly lanky. Almost frightfully light. Other than a reflexive, low groan of protest, Kisame isn't getting much for his troubles. He's just a bad dream right now. ] (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 06:53 am UTC (link)

[Pretty deeply unconscious, isn't he? Sleeping through this much movement seems a little unnatural. The feather-weight only confirms his suspicions that he's not healthy, either. A man of this height should definitely not weigh so little. He feels like he hasn't eaten a good meal in days, or at least hasn't kept it down if he has. Kisame can't help the sudden chill as his mind flashes back to how incredibly light Itachi was, in the end.... Is this man sick?

The unwelcome connection is rather unnerving, to be honest. Kisame scowls to himself and pushes out of the fitting room, securely draping Sherlock over his shoulder and picking up into a brisk trot once he's back out on the street. Yes, he's definitely thinking a quick visit to the hospital is in order, even if he's just being paranoid.]

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 07:06 am UTC (link)

[ His eyes come open when there's an impact against his chest, but his blue gaze is bleary for a while. Even a great mind can be dulled by sleep deprivation, and all his does for a while is snag little bits of information about his current surroundings and churn them through like water through a sieve. Floors green. Marble, no, linoleum, no, tempura... He sleeps.

Whether Kisame intends to or not, he swings Sherlock when he jogs along. That's a little less hard to ignore, and after a while he can realize that this is not, not normal. Things should not be whizzing right by his face like this. Is that the edge of a sandal? Kisame will feel a splay of fingers across his back, one hand making it as far up as his high collar before it catches and falls limp from exertion. ]

Set me down.

[ He croaks a little ]

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 07:16 am UTC (link)

[Awake now, is he? The voice sounds hoarse, and the hand on his back feels unsteady and weak. But the heartbeat feels steady, and his temperature seems normal, so Kisame slows to a walk to allow Sherlock a gentler pace; if the man's not comatose, he supposes they can afford to wait a little longer. Possibly a lot longer, if he's going to be stubborn about this.]

If I thought you'd stay upright if I did, I might. Sorry, but I don't think it's happening.

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	deducingyou 2011-07-10 07:24 am UTC (link)
	Imbecile. [ The words hold no real bite to them, even if there is gravel in his throat. He can sense the slowed pace, though, and he tries to turn his head to see. In this lack of light, though, all he can really see is the high spike of the other's hair viewed from the back. ] Who are you? [ Now that's a demand. ] (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	seeingeyeshark 2011-07-10 07:30 am UTC (link)
	It's nice to meet you, too. [The sarcasm is obvious, but even so, Kisame is laughing; he's reminded of nothing so much as an overly-tired child raising a fuss.] My name's Kisame. Hoshigaki Kisame. And you would be? (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	deducingyou 2011-07-10 07:37 am UTC (link)
	[ That's about right. He's exhausted, he's annoyed at being woken, and there's a stranger toting him around like the day's shopping. ] Gary Bloody Contrary. Just where are you planning on taking me, Kisame? (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 07:58 am UTC (link)

[He only chuckles again at the offered name and tone. The concern is still there, lingering in the back of his mind, but for the moment he prefers not to address it. For the moment, this gentle prodding seems like a more effective means of assessment than asking outright. Gary seems spirited enough, if obviously weak and exhausted, and that's encouraging in and of itself. He smirks, baring a mouthful of unnaturally sharp teeth--and if it can't he seen, then it can probably at least be heard in his tone.]

What an interesting name.... You must have very imaginative parents, eh? But it's to the hospital with you, Contrary-dono; you don't seem to be feeling so well.

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	[1/2] deducingyou 2011-07-10 08:05 am UTC (link)
	[ There's a huff of a breath that twists into a bit of a growl as the voice warps his irony into an actual name. ] How original... (Reply to this) (Parent)

	deducingyou 2011-07-10 08:14 am UTC (link)
	[ But then he registers the word hospital and, look, there's still some life left in these limbs! The one hand attempts to paw and twist fingers none too sweetly in the hair at the base of the other man's neck, aiming to yank pointedly ] No. No hospital. I'm fine. Put me down. (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

	seeingeyeshark 2011-07-10 08:21 am UTC (link)
	Ow. [Certainly spirited, if he's fussing this much about a hospital visit. Kisame lets out a disgruntled growl of his own, and the hand that had been resting against Sherlock's back to hold him steady rises to take his wrist instead.] You were blacked out in a changing room, Contrary-dono; I'd hardly call that "fine". What's wrong with the hospital, anyway? (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

deducingyou
2011-07-10 08:37 am UTC (link)

[ Well, Kisame, his arms are full of caffeine patches, for one, and there's one or two nicotine patches around his midriff beneath the shirt. He doesn't dislike hospitals, but he abhors being a patient in one. The fussing, the tests, the needles in his arms that can't push anything through him but sugar. No thanks. He can't afford to be bedridden at this point unless he's missing some sort of limb. ]

Absolutely nothing, aside from the fact that I'm not injured.

If you were looking to play the good samaritan tonight, Kisame, then take me home.

[ He lets go of the hair on his own accord when the hand closes around his wrist, bones standing beneath the smooth skin. There's grit of some sort on the other's palm. He falls very quiet, brows cinching with some concentration and lips a taut line. The hand twists experimentally to get a further feel of the other palm. ]

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 08:50 am UTC (link)

Injured, no. Sick, very possibly. But something is wrong with you. When was the last time you slept, aside from passing out in that store? Have you even eaten anything in the past few days? What are those patches on your arm?

[The light, playful tone he's used until now is being replaced by a more serious one as he fires off the questions, stern and demanding and obviously disapproving. The sandpaper rasp of denticles against skin is almost audible as Sherlock twists his hand; Kisame only frowns more to feel just how sharply the bones stand out.]

You feel like you've been living on bread and water, if that. I don't even know where you live, you realize?

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 09:04 am UTC (link)

The Shelter.

[ That seems to be the only answer he's planning to give, but he's turned his head, curious, shifting to brush the tip of his nose across Kisame's wrist. The nose is a good sensor for temperature and some texture. Though lips were better for the latter, he's not that curious. ]

You're not human. What would you know about the health of one?

[ He thinks this a fair question, even though what Kisame says of him is mostly true. He eats enough to get by. He sleeps enough to keep from hallucinating. He's not just skin and bones, but he is an ectomorph, and that means every edge is a hard angle. ]

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 09:20 am UTC (link)

[His wrist is just as rough as his palm, perhaps not quite so warm as most people tended to be. Regardless, he's a big man with muscle to spare. The gesture is odd enough, but it's Sherlock's blunt question that makes him stop walking and arch his eyebrows at the lean man in his arms; he sounds supremely unimpressed, even as he lets go of the man's hand to re-settle on his back.]

Maybe not, but I'm close enough to know a little something about it, I'd wager, and I've taken care of one long enough to know when something's wrong. But let me guess--either you can't actually remember the answers to my questions, or you'd rather not say because they wouldn't help your case at all, right?

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 09:57 am UTC (link)

[ He has a good idea of the size of what he's dealing with. He's estimated the other's height by his perceived distance to the ground, and his weight by the sound of his shoes on the ground. He knows what the fabric of this coat is. He knows Kisame paints his fingernails purple. There are barbs on the strangers palms; his skin is cool, but rough. ]

Wrong. The simple answer is that it's none of your business. Would you like me to start asking questions about you?

I'll make you a deal. Take me to the Shelter and, if you really give a damn, I'll answer two of your questions. Any question.

[ He closes his eyes, breathing in slowly ]

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 10:25 am UTC (link)

Most people don't give a damn whether I'd like it or not; you can ask questions if you really want to, Contrary-dono. But if you get the right to refuse to answer, then so do I.

[Kisame's shoulders bob under Sherlock in a small shrug, voice fading back into mild, quiet politeness. But he's starting to walk again, turning to orient himself this time towards the shelter; he sounds almost like he's musing to himself, even if his voice remains at a conversational volume.]

Though really, I don't see why someone being concerned about your health should be such an issue. What a private person.....

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 10:40 am UTC (link)

Fair enough.

[ He grunts a little at the shrug, eyes sliding open in the most feline annoyance at being disturbed. He seems to have no problem using Kisame as a prop, rising up on his elbows by digging the sharp things into the other man's back. Patches fall off and flutter in a trail behind them as he pulls them off, one by one, from his arms. ]

You're a violent offender, probable age in the thirties. You've been inducted into the defense force, however, and you use... [ Glances down at the strap ] Some sort of oversized sword. You wrap it in bandages. Why?

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 10:56 am UTC (link)

Mmn.

[Kisame lets out his own noise of protest at how sharp Sherlock's elbows are, wincing as they dig in and glancing back to watch the patches drift to the ground behind them. Even Itachi was never quite so bony, he thinks--or at least, if he was, he was never so rough about it as this ingrate is. Geez....

Well, at least he supposes the conversation is interesting, when Sherlock isn't snapping. Kisame listens curiously, not bothering to offer an opinion one way or another.]

Why bandages? Tradition, I guess. But really, they do the job better than anything else I could use. A sheath would just be a bother. Why?

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 11:15 am UTC (link)

Is the sword not flat? Tedious work, I suppose, if it is. Tradition.

[ That's all he'll say about that. He doesn't feel like getting into a theological debate - they're boring. ]

You've all the build of a trained fighter. A guard, perhaps, or some form of mercenary. I can't see this cloak being practical for anything aside from helping to disguise appearance.

I suppose that's all I can say without seeing your face.

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	seeingeyeshark 2011-07-10 11:27 am UTC (link)
	It's not even close to flat. The cloak's got other uses, though. And for the right price, I can be nearly anything you want me to be. Not that the same rules apply here, eh? Heh. [He makes a vague, unseen gesture at that, tone somewhere between proud, rueful, and amused.] What's my face got to do with anything? (Reply to this) (Parent) (Thread)

deducingyou
2011-07-10 11:39 am UTC (link)

Everything is data. Since I haven't seen it, I couldn't tell you what it has to do with anything yet, now could I?

Are you ashamed, or do you think this is your little secret to keep?

[ Folds his arms over this perch he's been given, fairly consigned to his fate for now. The patches, expect for the ones unseen under his shirt, are gone. ]

I imagine your life has, or will, take a turn from that manner. There's no currency here to worry about funds, and everything is provided. Only real murderers will persist in a place like this.

How much longer?

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seeingeyeshark
2011-07-10 11:52 am UTC (link)

Is that what everything is, really? What do you do with it when you have it?

[Kisame doesn't bother to answer the questions; instead, he shifts and loosens his grip on Sherlock, turning his head towards him to make it easier to see his face. Black-rimmed grey eyes glitter in the poor light, to match the scratched headband and rows of shark teeth bared in a sharp grin for his passenger's inspection. If nothing else, it being this late at least makes his face suitably dramatic, if not downright ghastly.]

Like you said, Contrary-dono, I've been inducted into the Defense Force. That doesn't leave much room for murdering anymore, does it? But what do you think, see anything new?

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deducingyou
2011-07-10 12:08 pm UTC (link)

Yes. I utilize it.

[ The view is rather eerie in the dusty light, but he's seen worse, on men with skin as plain as his own. Those teeth are the most threatening thing about the view, but it's nothing to the mess that gnashed in his face the first day he came. He does not look away, though he tilts his head back to inspect with his pale eyes.

The next motion is purely for his own sake, a thumb that reaches up to curiously chase the line of one of those peculiar flaps of skin. If the stranger's intention had been to perform violence on him, he would have done it by now. Sherlock knew he had not been kind. The data didn't lie. There's no reason to be afraid, especially since he's a man who has smirked down more than one barrel of a gun that had every intention to undo him completely. And won despite it.

He smirks now. ]

I've confirmed that this is some form of shark skin, not a ray's. By the ridiculous logic of this place, I might also be able to comfortably deduce that you can breathe underwater, or perhaps even manipulate it to some extent.

How did I do?

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