Post by Leon Silverblood on Feb 24, 2007 8:23:42 GMT -5
Leon wakes up slowly. He comes to and immediately smashes a window, flashback to his former life as an aparently insane man, but finds only two-by-fours will meet his fist. He withdraws it stoically, eyes resting on the one he broke. He knows he is a stupid man for injuring the barricades, and he prays their forgiveness as he hammers another into place.
When he turns back to the bar, his former quietly insane animosity returns and a predatory, demeaning eye finds Magatsu, then Melody, then Vito. He sneers, but sobers himself, shaking away the growls and snarls he'd love to display publicly. His breathing slows instantly, and Leon appears disturbingly calm, having shucked his insanity in under a tenth of a second.
"Vito, with your means, you surely could have escaped already. A bazooka could free you, though you would spread plague to the outside, and the military would kill you as the first to breach. Surely a don, famous for contempting contemptible enemies, would find a way to win even that war, though. Why are you so mortalized, a king become a peasant?"
Leon moves his eyes to Taito, curiously. He wants to know why this man is a loner, and why such a loner would ever have found family.
"Magatsu!! You are familiar with hand-me-downs. He says "Magatsu!" with the proper intonation, knowing he is addressing his friend by his family name, and provoking him to admit his shaming independent streak, as well as his over-compensation.
Leon means no harm by these comments, he simply searches, his eyes, words, and instincts feeling far into the given responses. He pierces them, each one, as he meets their eyes, as only the insane can do, and with cool, clear, wide waiting eyes he provokes each one. Every action is for a purpose, and the most keen, even the most keenly obvious, are designed to give Leon more insight than the host cares to deliver.
As if addressing a thousand or a hundred thousand, Leon's voice expands, his body remaining prone despite the disrespect this would provoke from true enemies. He knows these men are not his enemies. He knows they will recognize a sanity from afar, whatever it's quirks.
"My friends, high and low, we are all equal here. Some of you are hurt by it. Overcome this, for your leadership finds it's best use in these years of desperation. Build your empires coming. As for those of you who have no will except to break cliches and trends, let me tell you that all are broken, and all that is left to you is the most piteous task of training the world to be wiser than the market that would have consumed it, did consume it, even, until recently." Piteous is uttered with great sarcasm, Leon nearly spitting the word.
He knows that everyone here is passion, fire, ice, hate, and a deepest love, than many outside these Malton walls will never know unless they all live. Leon seeks only to provoke the great to greater heights, and most are great. They just never know it.
"Melody, on the other hand," he grins hungrily, not without a sinister touch as his head turns toward her and black pupils rest on hers, "is quite the waitress. Melody, would you please bring us all a steak? I won't ask where mine is from, and perhaps they won't either, if it's seasoned and prepared right-proper. The bartender knows my tab, and if he wants more," he pauses as he glances to the burly assh**** that "forgot" to properly taint his drink. "tell him I have other things of value. He will be compensated"
The Silverblood's eyes turn curiously to Don Vito's, knowing the don could and would pay his own way, but knowing also that any man so wise will accept a courtesy, as it is a courtesty. His eyes also meet Magatsu's, to say "Thank you for your unbidden hospitality. Choose a drink instead, if you are not hungry." Finally, he turns to Melody, his eyes lowering involuntarily as he feels his tongue move around inside his mouth, licking his teeth, his lips from behind, and he swallows, then moves them back to the bartender.
When he turns back to the bar, his former quietly insane animosity returns and a predatory, demeaning eye finds Magatsu, then Melody, then Vito. He sneers, but sobers himself, shaking away the growls and snarls he'd love to display publicly. His breathing slows instantly, and Leon appears disturbingly calm, having shucked his insanity in under a tenth of a second.
"Vito, with your means, you surely could have escaped already. A bazooka could free you, though you would spread plague to the outside, and the military would kill you as the first to breach. Surely a don, famous for contempting contemptible enemies, would find a way to win even that war, though. Why are you so mortalized, a king become a peasant?"
Leon moves his eyes to Taito, curiously. He wants to know why this man is a loner, and why such a loner would ever have found family.
"Magatsu!! You are familiar with hand-me-downs. He says "Magatsu!" with the proper intonation, knowing he is addressing his friend by his family name, and provoking him to admit his shaming independent streak, as well as his over-compensation.
Leon means no harm by these comments, he simply searches, his eyes, words, and instincts feeling far into the given responses. He pierces them, each one, as he meets their eyes, as only the insane can do, and with cool, clear, wide waiting eyes he provokes each one. Every action is for a purpose, and the most keen, even the most keenly obvious, are designed to give Leon more insight than the host cares to deliver.
As if addressing a thousand or a hundred thousand, Leon's voice expands, his body remaining prone despite the disrespect this would provoke from true enemies. He knows these men are not his enemies. He knows they will recognize a sanity from afar, whatever it's quirks.
"My friends, high and low, we are all equal here. Some of you are hurt by it. Overcome this, for your leadership finds it's best use in these years of desperation. Build your empires coming. As for those of you who have no will except to break cliches and trends, let me tell you that all are broken, and all that is left to you is the most piteous task of training the world to be wiser than the market that would have consumed it, did consume it, even, until recently." Piteous is uttered with great sarcasm, Leon nearly spitting the word.
He knows that everyone here is passion, fire, ice, hate, and a deepest love, than many outside these Malton walls will never know unless they all live. Leon seeks only to provoke the great to greater heights, and most are great. They just never know it.
"Melody, on the other hand," he grins hungrily, not without a sinister touch as his head turns toward her and black pupils rest on hers, "is quite the waitress. Melody, would you please bring us all a steak? I won't ask where mine is from, and perhaps they won't either, if it's seasoned and prepared right-proper. The bartender knows my tab, and if he wants more," he pauses as he glances to the burly assh**** that "forgot" to properly taint his drink. "tell him I have other things of value. He will be compensated"
The Silverblood's eyes turn curiously to Don Vito's, knowing the don could and would pay his own way, but knowing also that any man so wise will accept a courtesy, as it is a courtesty. His eyes also meet Magatsu's, to say "Thank you for your unbidden hospitality. Choose a drink instead, if you are not hungry." Finally, he turns to Melody, his eyes lowering involuntarily as he feels his tongue move around inside his mouth, licking his teeth, his lips from behind, and he swallows, then moves them back to the bartender.
