cephalothorax | Contact✥

Really. I'm guessing you weren't much younger than I am now. And I think about my reasoning all the time.

[Of course, he's also not the sort of person who would sell his soul, so they're probably just different.]

I was twenty five when I died. But I think you are a very different person than I was.

Well, most likely.

[In fact he's quite different than most people, he supposes.]

Nature and environment... two forces that shape one another.

What's your environment? Back home.

Hmm.

Well. There are multiple ways to answer such a question.

The environment which shaped me is called Meteor City. It is a city of abandoned things, in which people and nations and organizations dump their unwanted objects, from literal garbage, to weapons, to children. The residents have no legal existence, so they can't be traced if they go into the world. And we are... insular. We take care of one another. We kill for one another.

[He takes a drink, closes his eyes.]

"Thicker than blood and thinner than water." That's what's said about the bond of those in Meteor City. An odd place, to the rest of the world.

And as for the rest of the world... I suppose it would be, to this place, rather odd as well. A world where one can acquire a license that permits them to murder without consequence. A world where a family of assassins can be known and renown, their home even attracts tourists.

Oh yes, and magical beasts. And giant, carnivorous fauna.

[He pauses in drinking to listen, fascinated. He'd never really asked Hisoka, in part because he'd just assumed the man would be coyly secretive about it. He looks more intent and attentive than he otherwise has in their interactions, in a way acting more like a regular person having a conversation than like a seedy demon trying to probe for weak spots.]

So your parents just left you there?

[License to murder, renowned assassins, Meteor City. What a place.]

I'd love to see this place.

[He shrugs a bit, sips the appletini.]

It seems so. I don't remember it, personally. But yes, that's the way it often goes.

Ahh, but as you may guess, the adjustment to a place like his has been odd.

No wonder Hisoka landed himself in prison, coming from a world of different rules.

The rules are different here than where I come from, too, but I expected it. I was meant to return to the mortal realm exactly when I did. I just... ended up in the wrong mortal realm. You can imagine my confusion.

You told me before that you aren't an assassin, but you come from a world that celebrates them. What are you, then?

Hisoka is a rather special case. But I suppose you'd need to ask him about that... if he were present to ask.

[Because, while Chrollo is open enough about his own story, he doesn't necessarily want to go around spilling other people's. Especially not Hisoka's. Just in case.

Sigh.

As for that question, he finishes off the appletini and you know what, maybe he shouldn't drink that other one. Ugh.]

What am I...

I don't like putting direct words to things like that. It's like questioning a person's motivation. How to sum what a person is, what they do, who they are... an occupation isn't enough information for that.

[...]

Hisoka worked for me, for a time. Actually, that's how we met. Although, even then, he was working for himself.

Yes, what a shame he isn't.

[He raises his glass to cheers with Chrollo, as if a tribute to a fallen comrade. Takes a drink then, whether Chrollo responds favourably or not.]

You're so particular. What was your occupation, then? I'll make sure to remember it doesn't define you.

Did you sleep with many of your employees?

[His response is, while brief, more like melancholic. And that's a good enough reason to sip the other drink. But seriously no more of that.]

Mm. I've never slept with any of them. He doesn't work for me anymore.

As for my former occupation... [Well. The most honest answer would be 'the spider's head.' But that won't make any sense to anyone who isn't familiar with the Spiders. Which may be good, really, except then he'd probably ask what that is, too, so in the end he just goes with...] Let's say "bandit."

Edited 2015-06-02 00:41 (UTC)

Technicalities. It's still frowned upon, isn't it. A power imbalance, and all of that.

[He's obviously not being serious. As for Chrollo being a bandit:]

I'm not sure what I expected you to say, but it wasn't that. I imagine you were very good at it, if you're so powerful.

Do you really think I care about that?

[And thats an obviously rhetorical question. Neither of them is likely to mistake Chrollo for someone with a sense of appropriateness in relationships.]

Besides, as I said, he was working for himself. Serving under me was just a convenient way to get close enough to slit my throat.

[SO PLEASANTLY STATED, TOO.]

...and yes. I was indeed very good at it.

Personally, I don't believe in occupational definitions, but my friends liked the word.

[He just smiles at the first question.]

He's close enough now, isn't he. Or - he was, I mean.

[Just pointing out the obvious. Not that he expects Hisoka's love for Chrollo to be an act; he felt it himself, he knows just how real it is.]

Teleporting must be very handy for a bandit. Not something I ever became skilled at. Summoning isn't quite so efficient, unfortunately.

Mm.

[He was. And in fairness, one could say his intentions never changed. Just the... time frame. But in fairness that's not even clear, so he'll just shrug it off. Besides, admittedly the other subject is less depressing.]

I didn't use that ability in the context of my work. As it happens, I prefer doing things by hand. It's more interesting that way.