healingbonds (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
healingbonds) wrote2020-06-23 04:51 pm
healingbonds) wrote2020-06-23 04:51 pm
Etude of the Solitary Bandit | Chapter 5
Chapter 4 << | index | >> Chapter 6
Owen: You’re the one suffering through your punishment, but they all get to play innocent: both Oz and Figaro who dominated the world, and the twins who did whatever they wanted in ancient times.
On top of that, they pretend to be righteous and play at being heroes by keeping you captive. They’ve forced the disadvantaged role on you here — how pitiful.
Bradley: ............
Snow in the portrait: Stop it, Owen.
White in the portrait: Don’t listen to him, Bradley.
Owen: And why should I listen to you? Hey...... You can ignore them. How about you take revenge, Bradley?
You, who stole treasures from the people; those countries that manufactured war in order to plunder resources; Oz, who sought to subdue us with his strength.
Teach the world that each and every one of their true forms are the very same. Or do you mean to be a dog kept on a leash for the rest of your life?
Bradley doesn’t fly into a rage; he just tucks in his chin and glares at Owen.
The low hum of Owen’s voice raises the prickly tension in the room.
Bradley: What about you, Owen? You couldn’t even intimidate that young wannabe knight; don’t go around talking big just because you stole his damn eyeball.
Owen’s smile deepens, his mismatched eyes still freezing.
Owen: Do you want me to kill you?
Bradley: You’re the pitiable one. I feel sorry for you.
(Clinking) (Gun cocking)
The next moment, Owen’s trunk materializes by his side, and Bradley’s rifle appears in his hands.
Shylock smiles, without missing a beat.
Shylock: The bar is now closed. Please take this outside.
(Footsteps)
At that moment, lively footsteps approach the bar.
Murr: Hey, there are so many customers!
Chloe: Woah, it’s the Northern wizards......
Rustica: I see Sir Sage is here as well. Good evening. What a lovely night.
The Western wizards have arrived. Bradley and Owen sit back down in their seats, the wind knocked out of their sails.
Bradley: ......The wizards from the West, huh......
Chloe looks slightly nervous at the sight of the Northern wizards.
But Murr and Rustica continue to smile, taking it all in stride.
Rustica: All of you gathered together like this. Is it someone’s birthday party tonight?
Owen: There’s no birthday.
Murr: It must be somebody’s birthday out there! There are as many wizards and people as there are stars in the sky! Happy birthday!
(Bang!)
Bradley: Woah......! Don’t go setting off fireworks in such a cramped place! Are you looking for trouble!?
At Bradley’s threat, the Western wizards draw back like frightened cats.
But the fear in their expressions is immediately coloured with curiosity.
Chloe: Tr......Trouble? I’ve heard rumours about the Northern wizards, but what kind of terrible things do you do? Can you give me an example?
Murr: What do you dislike about fireworks? The sound? The sparks? Do you think fireworks are still fireworks without their sound and sparkle?
Rustica: If this isn’t a birthday celebration, what kind of gathering is it? Can we join in? If needed, I’ll provide musical accompaniment.
The Northern wizards simultaneously make exasperated faces.
Owen: The Western wizards are so annoying......
Bradley: They really throw me off...... Even if you threaten them, they only react by going, "And then? And then?"
Mithra: They haven’t been taught real pain. Shall I teach you?
Mithra says to the Western wizards, his languid gaze mixed with terrifying intensity.
The Western wizards turn pale in unison. Then, they grow excited.
Chloe: Scary......!
Murr: Sca~ry!
Rustica: Scary! As expected!
Mithra: How irritating......
Mithra’s magical object, a crystal skull, materializes in the palm of his hand. Bradley holds it down with one hand.
Bradley: Leave it, Mithra.
Rustica: What a lovely crystal skull. Oh right, Bradley. I hear you used to be a bandit?
Bradley: So what if I was. Don’t get all familiar with me.
Rustica: Did you find rare treasures? My hobby is collecting art pieces, so I’d love to hear stories about wonderful treasures.
Chloe: Stop it, Rustica......
Chloe meekly tugs at Rustica’s sleeve as he makes to sit down next to Bradley.
Bradley snorts, waving a hand as if to brush him off.
Bradley: Don’t liken being a bandit to the hobbies of a noble. I plundered and collected treasures with my own damn power.
Rustica: Why did you become a bandit?
Bradley: Because I didn’t want to work. Just like you, Mister Unhinged Bridegroom.
Rustica turns to look at Chloe in surprise.
Rustica: Did I not want to work?
Chloe: I, I don’t know, but...... I’ve never seen you work before, Rustica. You did earn a bit from your performances though.
Shylock: Rustica has a naturally aristocratic air; it’s as if he was born to be a noble. Though the same goes for Bradley as well.
Bradley: Huh? What are you saying?
Chapter 4 << | index | >> Chapter 6
Owen: You’re the one suffering through your punishment, but they all get to play innocent: both Oz and Figaro who dominated the world, and the twins who did whatever they wanted in ancient times.
On top of that, they pretend to be righteous and play at being heroes by keeping you captive. They’ve forced the disadvantaged role on you here — how pitiful.
Bradley: ............
Snow in the portrait: Stop it, Owen.
White in the portrait: Don’t listen to him, Bradley.
Owen: And why should I listen to you? Hey...... You can ignore them. How about you take revenge, Bradley?
You, who stole treasures from the people; those countries that manufactured war in order to plunder resources; Oz, who sought to subdue us with his strength.
Teach the world that each and every one of their true forms are the very same. Or do you mean to be a dog kept on a leash for the rest of your life?
Bradley doesn’t fly into a rage; he just tucks in his chin and glares at Owen.
The low hum of Owen’s voice raises the prickly tension in the room.
Bradley: What about you, Owen? You couldn’t even intimidate that young wannabe knight; don’t go around talking big just because you stole his damn eyeball.
Owen’s smile deepens, his mismatched eyes still freezing.
Owen: Do you want me to kill you?
Bradley: You’re the pitiable one. I feel sorry for you.
(Clinking) (Gun cocking)
The next moment, Owen’s trunk materializes by his side, and Bradley’s rifle appears in his hands.
Shylock smiles, without missing a beat.
Shylock: The bar is now closed. Please take this outside.
(Footsteps)
At that moment, lively footsteps approach the bar.
Murr: Hey, there are so many customers!
Chloe: Woah, it’s the Northern wizards......
Rustica: I see Sir Sage is here as well. Good evening. What a lovely night.
The Western wizards have arrived. Bradley and Owen sit back down in their seats, the wind knocked out of their sails.
Bradley: ......The wizards from the West, huh......
Chloe looks slightly nervous at the sight of the Northern wizards.
But Murr and Rustica continue to smile, taking it all in stride.
Rustica: All of you gathered together like this. Is it someone’s birthday party tonight?
Owen: There’s no birthday.
Murr: It must be somebody’s birthday out there! There are as many wizards and people as there are stars in the sky! Happy birthday!
(Bang!)
Bradley: Woah......! Don’t go setting off fireworks in such a cramped place! Are you looking for trouble!?
At Bradley’s threat, the Western wizards draw back like frightened cats.
But the fear in their expressions is immediately coloured with curiosity.
Chloe: Tr......Trouble? I’ve heard rumours about the Northern wizards, but what kind of terrible things do you do? Can you give me an example?
Murr: What do you dislike about fireworks? The sound? The sparks? Do you think fireworks are still fireworks without their sound and sparkle?
Rustica: If this isn’t a birthday celebration, what kind of gathering is it? Can we join in? If needed, I’ll provide musical accompaniment.
The Northern wizards simultaneously make exasperated faces.
Owen: The Western wizards are so annoying......
Bradley: They really throw me off...... Even if you threaten them, they only react by going, "And then? And then?"
Mithra: They haven’t been taught real pain. Shall I teach you?
Mithra says to the Western wizards, his languid gaze mixed with terrifying intensity.
The Western wizards turn pale in unison. Then, they grow excited.
Chloe: Scary......!
Murr: Sca~ry!
Rustica: Scary! As expected!
Mithra: How irritating......
Mithra’s magical object, a crystal skull, materializes in the palm of his hand. Bradley holds it down with one hand.
Bradley: Leave it, Mithra.
Rustica: What a lovely crystal skull. Oh right, Bradley. I hear you used to be a bandit?
Bradley: So what if I was. Don’t get all familiar with me.
Rustica: Did you find rare treasures? My hobby is collecting art pieces, so I’d love to hear stories about wonderful treasures.
Chloe: Stop it, Rustica......
Chloe meekly tugs at Rustica’s sleeve as he makes to sit down next to Bradley.
Bradley snorts, waving a hand as if to brush him off.
Bradley: Don’t liken being a bandit to the hobbies of a noble. I plundered and collected treasures with my own damn power.
Rustica: Why did you become a bandit?
Bradley: Because I didn’t want to work. Just like you, Mister Unhinged Bridegroom.
Rustica turns to look at Chloe in surprise.
Rustica: Did I not want to work?
Chloe: I, I don’t know, but...... I’ve never seen you work before, Rustica. You did earn a bit from your performances though.
Shylock: Rustica has a naturally aristocratic air; it’s as if he was born to be a noble. Though the same goes for Bradley as well.
Bradley: Huh? What are you saying?
Chapter 4 << | index | >> Chapter 6