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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


1:15 AM Tokyo, Japan

October 13 flexed the fingers of his injured hand, watching Selas pick up his clothing, how the scars on his back pulled and the muscles moved under his porcelain skin as he stooped for them. He was beautiful, scars and all. Wait, what? October tried to shove the thought away, trying to focus on what Selas was saying, about how he was the strange one. He stood up, mumbling, "Perhaps," as he tucked his loose hair behind his ears, glancing at his watch. No wonder he was exhausted - he'd been awake for nearly twenty one hours now. He looked back at Selas, whose dark eyes glowed with red, rimmed with dark circles of exhaustion, as his thin hands drew crimson out of the white fabric of his shirt like a thread that dissolved in air. Incredible. 'He'd be the best dry cleaner in the world,' he thought, and realized what a dumb thought it was. Thank goodness he didn't say it out loud. He missed the start of Selas's sentence as his dimmed eyes snapped to his face. October had lost his train of thought watching Selas's hands.

"Of course," he agreed, picking up his .22 and tucking it into the back of his jeans again. If they were caught in a scuffle again, he'd really rather rely on his marksmanship skills than his knife or even his contractor skills. October was too tired for it. Tucking his other armaments and medical things back into his black duffel bag, he reached over and picked up the hotel phone, pressing it to his ear and phone down to the front desk to request a cab. Placing the phone back in its cradle, he picked up his jacket and shrugged it on. "Of course, you're right. Let's go," he said, starting to repeat himself without realizing it. But he was fine with moving hotels - Selas had been at this longer than October had and October conceded that he probably knew how better to handle this. Not that October wasn't proficient at his job, but he also had a degree of immunity because he worked for a government. But Selas did not, and October could not do this alone.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖1:20AM Tokyo Japan〗----

When he had retrieved his clothes Selas felt as if the young man was staring at him, he could almost feel his eyes boring into his back and it made Selas shiver slightly, though hopefully not visibly and could just blame it on the cold. When he had sat back down and began cleaning his clothes the young man began straightening himself out for public.
Really as a contractor one would completely remake their entire look in the hopes of deceiving anyone that was watching. At least that was always his look on it. As for BK-201, well, that was a given since the man had been running around with a mask on for the last several years.
Selas had a mask too if he wanted, but he rarely brought it out, and it wasn't a possession like BK-201 was known for.

A heavy sigh fell from his lips and his eyes finally returned to their dim black depth. Slowly he looked down at his clothes, wondering how he even got them off in the first place. Again an shuddered sigh and he laid them out on the bed before standing up and placing his beads in his pocket. "Of course," The young man agreed, and Selas glanced over his shoulder to see Charles putting away all of his items and then calling for a cab. He looked tired and probably would end up passing out as soon as they got into the car, or possibly even once they were in his room. He returned to his clothes, managing the white shirt which looked as good as new now, then the frock coat- though it proved more difficult than the first-, then he just stared at the jacket, it was so thick and heavy that he knew it would prove difficult, and most likely painful.
"Of course, you're right. Let's go," Charles had said, and Selas rolled his eyes as his weakness, sucked in a breath and quickly slipped his arms through. Once they were through however his arms fell to his sides and one hand clasped over his torso, he knew hadn't ripped the stitches but it was damned painful for sure. He hissed violently and slowly lowered himself to his knees to catch his breath. His raven hair cascaded around his face, creating a curtain for the pain on his features, he didn't enjoy it one bit. He was a bitter, stubborn old man and he couldn't stand being vulnerable or weak. Even around his previous partners who had lived with him knew that he was a difficult man. Terou had been the only one who had been accommodating to his dour partner.

He wanted to say "Yes. Lets get moving." But unfortunately the throbbing pain in his side was preventing him from moving his legs on his own. They needed to leave now, and he knew that the longer they waited, the more danger they would be in staying in this hotel.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


1:25 AM London, England

Selas looked like he was in pain as he redressed, pulling on his white shirt, then his frock, and his jacket. The effort was too much though, and he dropped to his knees, raven hair curtaining his face, hand going to his stitches. While his hair may hide his face, October could see the pain in the tightness across his shoulders and up his neck. The young man stepped over and crouched next to him, putting an arm around his shoulders, hands under Selas's arms. He was careful to keep his hands off of the gash or the bruised area around it as he pulled Selas upright, forcing him to sit on the edge of the bed with firm but careful hands.

They couldn't move like this, not with Selas in this much pain, not with them both so exhausted. It would put them in more jeopardy than they were in, staying at this hotel. "Lay down. We'll move in the morning. You're in no shape to go anywhere right now," he said firmly, standing and calling down to cancel the cab. The clerk was annoyed with him now. He didn't care. Turning back around he said, "It's not negotiable." October strode across to the door, locking all the locks on the door, then making sure the window was locked behind the closed curtains. The room was secure enough.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖1:30AM Tokyo Japan〗----

His heavy breathing was the only sound for quite some time till the young man helped him to his feet and onto the edge of the bed. He hadn't really expected the help honestly, but he was certainly grateful for it. He mumbled his thanks before he hunched back over his hand pressed to his side, they would leave soon and he could put on that emotionless mask he was so easily schooled into using till they got to the hotel and he could rest properly.

"Lay down. We'll move in the morning. You're in no shape to go anywhere right now," Charles had said suddenly and Selas head whipped up to face him. His dark depths following his every move from the door to the window. Did he just say they would wait till morning? Had he been overruled in his decision to move to his hotel? Camui gave a slow prolonged blink as he focused his eyes on the red-head. He didn't realize it till now but it was slowly becoming more difficult to focus. His eyes snapped shut and he shook his head. He couldn't allow them to stay here, it was too dangerous.

"Despite my condition we have to keep moving, it's too dangerous to stay here and you know that. Our position has been compromised and if they want to keep looking for us they will do everything in their power to make sure we are dead. Including checking hotels." It was a long string of words but he realized then that whatever he said wasn't going to matter. Charles was right and there was no way he was going to be able to make it back to the hotel in one piece. A heavy sigh fell from his lips and his hair curtained his face once again, hiding the disappointment in his features.
He wouldn't sleep anyway, at least he hoped not. The last thing he needed to do was to show more weakness because of his nightmares.
Wonderful. This partnership was going to be dandy. He could already tell.
A hiss left his lips at the pain that thrummed in his side and he knew the evening would continue to be like this sleep or no sleep.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


1:35 AM Tokyo, Japan

"Which is why it's more rational to stay exactly where we are, and you would realize that if you stopped to think about it," October returned, almost a snap. He was beyond exhausted and was not in the mood to negotiate. Because it was rational to try and get as far from the place of incident as possible, it was far more logical to stay close to avoid detection. Whoever was looking for them would start looking farther from the tower. When they did not find them, then they would either get closer or even farther, and by then, the two would have already moved to a safer location. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he added, "I'm sorry for snapping. It's been a extraorinarily long day." October shucked off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the desk chair. There was only one bed in this hotel room, only a double. It wasn't even as long as either of them were tall. Suppressing a sigh, he set his gun aside again and pulled a pillow from the bed. He'd normally not give a s**t about sharing the bed, but the idea of sleeping next to an injured Selas Ashford was not something he thought particularly wise.

"Get some sleep, Mr Ashford," October said wearily, tossing the pillow down on the floor at the end of the bed and flicked off the main lights. He didn't think they'd keep awake, but they attracted attention. "Tomorrow will be just as long." He sat down at the end of the bed with a soft sigh. Morning was going to be unpleasant. He layed down, laying his head on the pillow, eyes closing. He couldn't keep them open anymore. Too tired. Utterly exhausted. In the few moments of quiet, he fell asleep, passed out entirely.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖1:35 AM Tokyo Japan〗----


"Which is why it's more rational to stay exactly where we are, and you would realize that if you stopped to think about it," A sneer began to form on Selas' lips. He hadn't been expecting such a snap and slowly he rose his head to meet narrowed black eyes with a frustrated face. He was indeed tired, and Selas would not hold that against the man. He sighed lightly and nodded, taking the young mans word, Charles was right, they couldn't move tonight not with the condition Camui was in and if there was anyone searching they would be out and about this moment looking for them. It was probably best to stay indoors. A sigh fell from his own lips before he heard the apology. Again, something else he hadn't been expecting. With slightly wider eyes and narrow brows he watched the young man toss his jacket onto the chair before grabbing a pillow and taking his spot at the end of the bed.

He was about to make a biting remark but the sound of heavy sleeping soon made way to his ears. The man was dead asleep for sure. With a heavy sigh Selas rolled his eyes and stood up, wobbling his way over to top of the bed and pulling the blanket off the end allowing it to drape over his new partner. Selas may have been a cold hearted b*****d at one point, but he wasn't like that all the time. The man had given him his bed for crying out loud, and even though years ago Selas wouldn't have cared at all, he couldn't bring himself to allow the man to sleep without the warmth of a blanket. Selas on the other hand... well, his large wool jacket would most definitely be enough.

Slowly he shucked off his own jacket, thankfully able to suppress the small hiss that threatened to leave his lips, and lowered himself to the bed then rested back against the headboard. Thankfully the bed had a sleigh design and he was able to comfortably prop himself against it and drape the coat over his lanky form. With another heavy sigh he ran his hand through his hair and began to relax. Surprisingly enough able to drift off in a matter of minutes.

〖4:35 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

He woke up in a relatively cold sweat, though thankfully not screaming. He blinked idly forgetting for a moment where he was, the jacket was on the floor now and his chest was slightly damp but he didn't care in the least. Turning to look over at the dimly glowing clock Selas realized that he had gotten at least three hours of sleep, a new record he supposed. Slowly he swung his legs over the bed and sat up, realizing at the heavy sting of pain in his side that he was in no way on his way to recovery yet.

"s**t" He whispered with a hiss and stumbled his way to the bathroom for his morning ablutions. He was mostly silent as he walked but once he managed to get all of his clothes off after locking the door biting his own lips was all he could do from screaming in frustration.
His bandages had already been bled through, it was no surprise to him but it was painful as hell. Once he managed to turn on the shower and get inside he quickly found that he would need to sit on the edge of the tub, there was absolutely no way he could stand there and clean himself without falling to his knees. With a frustrated sigh he managed to take off his bandages and clean himself carefully before drying off and getting back into his clothes, though this time forgetting the shirt and allowing his body to breathe. He stared at his dour complexion in the mirror for several moments before gathering his shirts from the counter top and stepping quietly into the room.

Sound asleep still. Well so much for keep your friends close and your enemies closer. The man was most certainly asleep with how heavy his breathing was, and Camui took the opportunity to silently observe him. Though he didn't do it of course without his notebook. Pale hands dove into his small bag and grabbed out the journal and his fountain pen. 'Old school' as he was so commonly refereed to, but he had a very unique way of doing so. He became lost in his thoughts for a few minutes before he realized that he was subconsciously running his fingers over the beads in his hand. Obsidian eyes stared at his hand as if it had accosted him, as far as he was aware Selas had not been using his contract in the slightest, yet here he was, elegant fingers tracing over each individual bead and a Buddhist prayer on the tip of his tongue. Another sigh fell from his lips and he continued his notes trying desperately to forget his mindless obeisance.

〖9:35 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

Despite not wearing any shoes Selas had very narrow feet. Those feet were currently prodding Charles side mercilessly. When there was finally a groan of recognition Selas stepped away, his shirt finally over his shoulders and tucked into his trousers, but the frock coat and jacket still hung on the back of the chair.
"Though you may be able to sleep for ungodly hours at a time, and- while I do envy you to some extent- I do believe we need to make a move today, or, at the very least, eat something before discussing said move." His voice was sharp and biting almost like that of a teacher, perhaps the night alone had given him time to collect the vulnerability and he stood there with an impatient face and one that had been patient for far too long. Black eyes narrowed at the man waiting for a reply, and when he didn't think he would get one he prodded the man again.
"I hear a cold bucket of water is always the best sort of remedy for such childish behavior." A smirk could practically heard in his voice and slowly he backed up once the man began stirring from his sleep.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


9:35 AM Tokyo, Japan

October was a man who slept like a preverbial log or child or whatever it is that slept so soundly as to be unwakeable. This was probably not a good trait for a contractor with an entirely intelligence related contract, but it wasn't something to be helped. He was still only twenty five after all - still prone to sleep in more than he should. After the day he'd had, he probably could have slept until his empty stomach awoke him, even lying on the floor. It was reasonably comfy floor, he thought, but it was probably the exhaustion talking. After passing out, he hadn't woken once, hadn't stirred, had barely moved.

Until, of course, the prodding started. It was only the incessant poking that even mildly roused him. Who was poking him? Why was he being poked? October's eyebrows contracted together as he became aware of someone talking. Something about food and cold water and children, he thought dimly, groaning and reaching up to cover his face from the sunlight. "Ten more minutes," he grumbled, covering his face with his arms and rolling away from that annoying prodding. It never occured to him that Selas might actually douse him with cold water, or to kick him awake, as he lay there on the floor, still wearing his jeans, his red hair an outrageous mess.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖9:40 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

Selas not once in his life had ever met someone who slept so soundly. Even his own partner and himself at such an age were never heavy sleepers, especially if one were being prodded to wake up. He heavy sigh rolled over his lips and he rolled his yes. Had the man just told him ten more minutes? Selas didn't care how old Charles was, this most certainly wasn't a game. He huffed lightly and stormed off to the bathroom a wobble in his step.
A moment later he emerged with a glass of ice, cold, water.

"You can't tell me I didn't warn you Mr. Valentine." A grin spread across his features and the contents of the cup went pouring onto the mans face below him. Once he was done swearing and spluttering himself awake Selas stood there with a straight face as if he hadn't done anything wrong.
"Its nine fourty in the morning Mr. Valentine, we really must get started. I insist you get showered so we can start our day." He announced turning on his heal before heading back to the table and sitting down to resume whatever writing he had been doing before. He shoved the cup aside as if it burned him and picked up his fountain pen.
He looked somewhat healthier for someone who had pallid skin like his own. The raven tresses of his hair spilling over his shoulders as he looked down at his book, eyes boring into the journal as if t concentrating on something important. Though they both knew that he was deliberately ignoring whatever crude words Charles was spouting at him for having splashed water over his face.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


9:40 AM Tokyo, Japan

He'd begun to drift back to sleep again when he was suddenly being drenched with icy cold water - in his ear, over his arms, in his face - and he jerked awake bolting upright with a loud and uncouth, "******** son of a b***h!" Normally, he wasn't so vulgar, but there were times. This was one of them. Holding his wet arms out, shoulders hunched, water drops running down his face, he glared daggers at Selas. In his mind, the cold water was entirely unnecessary. But then again, he was somehow under a blanket which had not been there when he fell asleep. October could not be totally mad at the Welsh man. His head was swimming with the sudden wake-up and bolting upright so fast. But he nodded stiffly in response to the being commanded to shower, and got unsteadily to his feet. His whole body felt stiff from the floor and his stomach growled loudly, demanding to be fed immediately. He retrieved clean pants from his bag and borderline staggered into the bathroom.

He showered in, ironically, cold water quickly, drying and dressing to realize in his haste that he had failed to grab a shirt from his bag. He towel dried his hair as best he could before tying his hair back in a pony tail. He didn't bother to look in the mirror very long before he left the bathroom without his shirt. October was a very athletic and strong young man and he had the muscle definition to show. He also had the scars to show his lifestyle. His pale skin bore nearly as many marks as Selas's, permanent marks of a life of fighting. A short, straight scar over his heart, as though he'd been stabbed; spots like gun fire; scratches like those on his hands. He was a sort of Batman among the Justice League of contractors - a relatively mundane creature among the superpowered. Without a word about them, he crouched and yanked out a black t-shirt, pulling it on over his red hair, jarring against his pale, english complexion and his fire red hair. He stood up, looking at Selas. "Shall we?" He was really, really hungry.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖9:55 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

The older man sighed heavily and shook his head almost glaring at him with an 'I told you so' type of look. His obsidian eyes watched from the corner as the young man made his way into the bathroom. Once behind closed doors Selas had managed to re-bandage himself when quite carefully and dumped the already bloodied bandages in the trash, covering it with a newspaper from the previous day. He really didn't need the man prodding at him after having stitched him up, it was unnecessary and Selas would eventually heal on his own. Once that was finished he tucked his white shirt into his trousers and placed the sheets and pillow back on the bed, not caring whether they were soaked or not. He then picked his bag up from the floor and placed it on the same table before returning to his journal.

Selas had been scribbling away his lasts thoughts for the evening when the bathroom door opened and no steam pored into the room, it was surprisingly cold actually and Selas briefly wondered if the young man had even showered properly. Tucking the journal away into his bag Selas grabbed his beaded chain from the table and placed it in his pocket after wrapping it in a black silk cloth. Onyx eyes glanced over his shoulder at the young man, his own fare share of scares marring what would be a perfect body. But no, Selas saw it as beautiful just the way it was. His lightly tanned skin, athletic toned muscles and-
What?
No he wasn't thinking such obscene things.
Tearing his eyes away Selas turned around as Charles got dressed, only then did he hesitantly turn towards him once he spoke. With a slow nod Selas pulled his frock coat very gently over his shoulders thin fingers working efficiently at the small black buttons that lined his chest and his sleeves. Only once his coat was on did he manage to do the same with his jacket, this time able to suppress the hiss that threatened to leave his lips.

"Here or my hotel?"
Selas inquired, picking up his bag and following Charles where ever he were to lead. Honestly he didn't care where they ate knowing he would hardly do so, but for the young mans sake of passing out as he did last night, it didn't matter.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


10:00 AM Tokyo, Japan

October stuffed the rest of his items into his bag, tucked a knife into the side of his shoe and stuck a couple candies into his pocket, glancing at Selas as he pulled on his frock and jacket. The bloke was so old fashioned. October couldn't imagine trying to fight dressed like that, or see the rational of it, but decided he didn't particularly care at the moment. He reached back past Selas to retrieve his jacket, thinking he faintly smelled blood, eyes sliding to Selas's torso, then to his face, an unspoken question as he slid his arms into his sleeves. He knew well enough even after only a few hours that Selas would always be too proud to tell October if the stitches tore. He wasn't a medical expert - he was man who dealt with a lot of injuries and had enough basic skills to get by reasonably well and on the fly. If his sutres didn't hold well enough, then they needed to do something better.

He shouldered his duffel bag as Selas asked, "Here or my hotel?" Still annoyed by his rude awakening, he responded with, "We'll eat here," trying to keep his tone civil. He was starving - his stomach growled and complained every few minutes, adamantly demanding to be fulfilled with painful little cramps. October usually consumed a lot of food in a day; he had a metabolism any young woman would kill for - it never stopped. In the last two days, October had barely eaten - a quick breakfast on his way to meet Charlotte, a few cheap snacks in the airport and nothing since. He was also still annoyed by the cold water. October really hoped it did not become a pattern (considering he uttered the phrase "ten more minutes" nearly every morning). He tucked his phone into his pocket and left his room key on the table before heading to the door.
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖10:10 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

Dark eyes regarded him slowly as the young man silently and deftly returned all of his weapons to their rightful places. Selas remembered a day long ago that he did the same, but he no longer had that burden thankfully. When Charles had turned towards him to reach for his coat Selas tensed, not sure at first what he had been reaching for before he withdrew with his coat, those icy eyes had assessed him carefully and Selas could almost hear the question he wanted to ask.
He never answered.

"Then we will eat here and return to my own reservation so we can continue this...discussion." His low baritone voice trailed off as he glanced at the young man, picking his bag up and allowing it to rest against his good side before he made for the door. Yes, Charles was probably angry at him for that wake up call, but unfortunately they had no choice but to keep moving. Eventually someone would check into this hotel to look for them and Selas didn't want to be here when that happened.
They moved to the elevator and on the main floor was a large eatery which they were guided through to a secluded place in the back which Selas had kindly inquired to for a 'business' conversation. The woman kindly accepted and now there they were sitting in a dimly lit corner with no windows and tea. Setting his bag on the ground Selas groaned softly tilting his head away towards the wall as if hiding the mildly pained expression. He had tried very hard to make it down here with out once showing any signs of the wound, but that proved difficult when he sat down and removed the bag.

The waitress unfortunately chose then to approach speaking in a fluent English.
"What can I get for you gentlemen today?" She had kindly asked and Selas only asked for a small bowl of their daily soup and more tea. She nodded before looking to the red-head, almost in awe at his beautiful hair and striking eyes. Selas couldn't stop his eyes from rolling before turning to stare an a seemingly interesting knot in the wood of the table, his hands curling delicately around the porcelain cup. He was very intent on disregarding Charles' appealing looks outwardly, though that certainly didn't keep his mind wandering from time to time.
"And for you sir?"
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


10:15 AM Tokyo, Japan

October kept vigilante on Selas as they made their way down to the ground floor. He wanted to make sure he was starting to recover. They didn't have a long time to get this done. As they took their seats, his eyes assessed the movements in the man's face. He had better colour in his face, but there was pain too. Before he could say anything though, the waitress appeared, speaking clear english and paying him a little more attention than he'd like. October was used to it, though. He knew what he looked like and how he was percieved - a proverbial pretty boy. If he was to be honest, he greatly disliked the attention, but there was little he could do about it. So he smiled brightly for her. "Two of your favourite, my dear," he said, leaning onto his elbows , fingers laced together, blue eyes locked with hers. You don't get to an expert about personal space without certain skills. She smiled, blushing slightly, as she gathered up their menus and shooting a smile to the suddenly uninterested Selas before bowing and leaving them be.

October sighed audibly, leaning back in his seat and taking a drink of his tea. "So our first job is to get inside the wall, Mr Ashford," he said, fingers absent mindedly tracing the edge of his cups handle. "A relative easy task, actually. The trouble lays in finding and obtaining the shard." October had rapport inside PANDORA - friends in reasonably influencial places. He was a foreign gate scientist who had been present at the Southern American Gate when it vanished. Even he himself had no idea how he survived and everybody - especially the Japanese - wanted to know how. He didn't spare a thought for it now. After all, he'd been a mere seventeen. "How familiar are you with Hell's Gate?"
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Selas Ashford AKA White Knight
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〖10:15 AM Tokyo Japan〗----

Selas didn't have to be a mind reader to know that Charles wasn't enjoying himself. The man didn't seem to like being adored over, it came as slightly weird for a young man like himself to be bothered with such trivial things. Selas looked like every single one of them, dark hair, dark eyes, and only stood taller than most. In a nut shell he was nothing to look at, grant it he wouldn't allow you to look in the first place.
A thin brow raised in question when Charles had mentioned 'two of your favorite'. The boy was that hungry that he needed two dishes? A light sigh rolled from his lips before raising the tea to them and sipping softly, it wasn't his money so he didn't care.
The cup clinked on the table as Selas regarded him his eyes never leaving the icy blue ones that stared in return. His mask had returned and all emotion had been wiped clean from his face, when it came to talking about missions Selas would not allow anything to get in his way of his mental concentration. He knew they were supposed to get passed the wall, the only question was how to infiltrate Pandora undetected and obtain the shard without being noticed. The latter easier than the former but Selas had a feeling that they were expecting them already, especially since the welcome wagon that had greeted them last night.

"How familiar are you with Hell's Gate?"
The words seemed distant to him, and for a moment he thought they were coming from across the room. But no one was there, it was just Selas and Charles sitting there in the dining room. Hells Gate....

"So you're going in there? Is that even a safe thing to do?"
"No. But we need to find Terou, I have a feeling hes ******** with Pandora again."
"He does have a mission for them you know."
"Yeah and I'm his partner, one would think it makes sense for me to tag along."
"You know why you couldn't go."

The shatter of glass
"Do you honestly think I care?! I told him that I would not leave his side, and now look, he's running off to get himself killed. I can... I can tell."

The words alone froze him to his very core and it was suddenly very obvious that he was staring at Charles, his black eyes distant but bore straight through the man across from him. Though he didn't look like he was in any shock, he just sat there with a blank ominous stare at the young man, waiting for him to continue. Selas was in his early thirties had had lived as a contractor his entire life, at least... from what he remembered. The waitress brought more tea and his soup, but he didn't bother touch it, he just sat there staring levelly at his current partner wondering if the young man would figure it out the question for himself.
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OCTOBER 13. AKA CHARLES VALENTINE.


10:20 AM Tokyo, Japan

Selas remained silent, but his dark eyes became distant, as though he was remembering something he'd rather not, and October sensed his tension. It was the Gate - the source of their nature at contractors. It was a horrible experience to get near one, to stay near one. Every contractor and doll reacted differently to it, with reactions that varied as much their payments and mediums. October 13 understood entirely - he'd been inside Heaven's Gate. He'd stayed within the wall around Hell's Gate. It was hell. But there were some that had no problems, who co-existed easily with the Gate. October wasn't one of them. He dropped his gaze to his tea for a moment, thanking the waitress as she brought about Selas's soup and refilled their tea, before looking back at Selas. "It's not necessary for you to accompany me into wall. Retrieving the object will only take a few days," he said quietly, raising his tea to his lips, unreadable eyes fixed on his face.

October had never handled the meteor shard, but he had heard many rumours about its supposed effect - unexplained syncotron radiation fields, power intensification, even some as bizarre as hallucinations and wish granting. The wall was filled with ghosts, and he couldn't imagine what the meteor shard would do to exasperate those. But he was young and resilient. He could handle it - he had to. "I'm a published Gate scientist - getting in and out will not be a problem for me," he expanded, glancing about the room briefly. Selas hadn't touched his soup yet. It was beginning to seem apparent to October that his new partner was not a man of particularly healthy habits.

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