tampered | Log; Complete

Log; Complete

When; Thursday, April 24th (late at night)
Rating; PG-13
Characters; Livio (

lohho)
Summary; Livio is on his way back from the range when the former Angel of Death decides the ex-assassin needs to be punished for past transgressions.
Log;

It's dark out, the City lights the only thing brightening his path as Livio finally leaves the gun range, a little tired, and more than a little ready to snag a couple hours of sleep. He hasn't been getting that much lately since things have been so busy. The last few days have been...interesting, to say the least, what with the curses and all, but really, when is the City ever not interesting? Of course, he can think of a few somewhat less charitable things to call it, but he's not really in the mood for that right now. Whatever excess frustration he went into the range having is no longer present. Honestly, it does almost feel like he's starting to live at the range now--in his free time, anyway. Planning the beach party has been taking up most of his time so he hasn't been keeping up with the Network much. It's better than the alternative, of course, so he can't really complain. Besides, he can't deny that he enjoys it, especially when he can spar with Nero or Elendira. Funny how things work out, really, considering he killed the latter back home. Just goes to show how bizarre the City really is.

He sighs, pushing the brim of his hat up a bit before sticking his hands in his pockets and beginning the not-so-long journey home--or rather, what he'd come to think of as home. Sort of. He likes No Man's Land well enough now, since the war ended, but there are things here that he'll never have back there. That's why he decided to organize a beach party. Livio knows he may never have a chance like this again so he might as well take advantage of it while he can. He wants it to be fun for everyone involved, and so far, he's gotten quite a bit of help. It's amazing how many friends he has here, really. But if they knew...

Livio shakes his head, pushing such thoughts away, not wanting to go there. Not tonight. He looks up, squinting a little at the clear night sky. Somewhere above, though obscured by the glare of the City streetlights, he thinks he can see a star or two twinkling overhead. He smiles a little, despite himself, before continuing on, oblivious to the danger that awaited just around the corner...

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Another murderer. It hadn't come as a surprise to him that it'd been one on the list of crimes Livio had committed. Most of those in the City seemed to be "the type", now. Whether by personal choice, or through the city's actions; the end result was the same. They'd taken another's life. And he seemed to hold no regret over most of his actions; blaming it on another side, of leaving it as nothing more than bad memories.

The rest that'd followed though had made the man stand out from the rest. Not only was he guilty of taking something that was not his, but he believed it right as part of his worship of "god". Emphasis on the non-capitalisation. It wasn't a name. It wasn't a title. It was something the man had called the manufactured creations that'd helped keep their world alive. Something they'd worshipped in His place.

"Murder in the name of a false idol." The figure stepped out of the shadows, seemingly unarmed as he made his way toward Livio. His gaze remained on the man alone, ignoring the other angel that'd informed him of Livio's crimes just a few moments ago. "Two sides of one whole; and neither one of you would stay your hand when the opportunity came." He stopped a short distance away, close enough to be seen despite the darkness. He could've just finished him off straight away; moved in without word nor warning. But that wasn't his way. It never had been. Being able to actually see the sinner he was passing the Lord's judgement for was part of his job. His former job. But that hadn't stopped him so far. This was who he was, no matter where he was doing it. "What gives you the right to take the very thing that He gives you? And under anothers name."

He stopped abruptly, a hand drifting towards one of his guns as a man appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, and started walking towards him. What the hell? However, as the stranger began to speak, something cold and hard settled in the pit of his stomach. This person, some guy he'd never seen before in his life, had just strolled up as if they'd known each other for years, saying things Livio had never told anyone--things he never would tell anyone, if he had any say in the matter. So what--how--why?

The words struck uncomfortably close to home, but he wasn't afraid of this guy, whoever he was. What he did want to know, though, was who the fuck had told him. He could get that information most likely, but was it really worth the trouble? In the long run, it probably wasn't.

"I don't know what you've heard or who told it to you, but you've been misinformed. I don't worship false idols, and I don't kill under another's name." He used the present tense on purpose, aware that anything less would be a lie. "Also, to be perfectly honest, sir, I don't see how my life is any of your goddamn business." He pulled the brim of his hat down shielding his eyes. "Good night."

And with that, Livio turned and began to walk away, his mood soured. So much for having a good end to a good night.

He was walking away? Livio was walking away from him. No one ever turned their back on him. Not unless they didn't value their life any longer. "Yet the blood is still on your hands. No matter how many times you'll wash them, it'll always be there, until the day that He casts His judgement on you." A hand disappeared behind his back momentarily, before a gun was produced, held loosely by his side.

"No matter what you say, to yourself or to anyone else, He will know the truth. You've been judged, and your penance must be paid, in blood." It was another who thought himself above the law. Man-made laws meant little, only His word. Nothing would ever change that. Even being sent to another Creation. "His law is the only that counts. And you have broken it, on more occasions than any would ever guess." A smirk. "But He knows, and that's all that matters." The gun was raised, aimed toward Livio's head for a single moment before being fired.

Livio kept walking, making a point of it now to ignore the asshole. True as the stranger's words might have been, that forgiveness was beyond the reach of someone like him, Livio had already hashed out the gruesome details of his sins with his own conscience. He didn't need someone else to do it for him, and this guy certainly didn't qualify. It only reminded him that much more why religion in general made his skin crawl.

His eyes widened suddenly, heightened senses kicking into high gear as he whirled, just in time to catch a bullet in the face, ripping out part of his jaw. The impact knocked him back, but he stayed on his feet, glaring now as the regeneration began to take effect, his hat fluttering to the ground at his feet.

OK. Now, he was pissed.

"Heh." His voice sounded thick, marred by the blood as bone and muscle tissues started to writhe and come together. "S'funny. Y'sound jus' like th'old man used to...when he'd get on a soapbox. He wasn' talkin' 'bout God, o'course, but sounds like you know that." He straightened, his jaw nearly mended already, his expression dark. "You can believe whatever you want to about me, or whatever it is you think you understand about my life and why I've done the things I've done, because, quite frankly, I don't give a shit. But if all you can do is wave that gun in my face because you think I deserve to be dead, then you'll be here a long time. I have no interest in fighting with some asshole I met on the street just because he thinks I should die." He stooped down and picked up his hat, shoving it firmly back on his head, his eyes never leaving the stranger's. "I'll only tell you once: Back the fuck off, and leave me alone."

Then, Livio very deliberately turned and began to walk away again, fingers closing around the grips of his guns. He'd give this guy one chance to do as he'd said, but if the guy kept pushing the issue, Livio would shoot the bastard and not think twice about it.

Edited 2008-04-22 03:48 (UTC)

The stare was returned with an unwavering ease. He'd faced bigger, meaner, and more blood-thirsty things during his tenure as the Angel of Death. One single human wasn't enough to shake him. Especially not one that had been placed onto his list. He broke His rules, and thus, he had no escape.

But that didn't keep a note of surprise from running through him as he realised one thing: He was still standing.

He'd not only been quick enough to turn around, but he'd also managed to survive a bullet to the head. How was something like that possible? He wasn't a divine creature. That much would've been obvious from the offset. So did that make him one of those manufactured creations that he'd been worshipping? No, that didn't make sense either.

He could only watch as his flesh began to knit back together, half his attention on the wound, and half on the mans words. It was quick; not unlike some of the characters he watched in those Saturday morning cartoons he used to be so fond of watching. Humans weren't meant to heal like that. Then again, humans also weren't meant to go around killing each other without reason. The very reason that none of them were qualified to put to use.

"It may've been that easy for you to turn your back on everything you've done. But He doesn't forget. He sees everything, and only He can decide when you're truly free to be left alone." Another round was fired, aiming yet again for his head. "Accept your fate and let His judgement come to pass." And again.

The bastard wouldn't quit. The moment he started talking, Livio knew it wasn't going to be that easy. It would've been nice if it had, but life wasn't that easy and never was. Goddammit, he grated, irritated more than anything else as he spun around, already moving as the bullets struck the wall beside him, peppering him with shrapnel, making him bleed. He ignored it, dead serious now and determined not to be hit again--not like that.

"I'll accept my fate when I'm damn well ready to accept it, not before, and when I do, it sure as hell won't be from the likes of you!"

With that, Livio raised the Doublefangs and returned fire, aiming for non-vital points on the stranger's body. Just because this bastard was willing to kill him (he had no idea he was actually dealing with an angel, not a human) didn't mean that Livio was willing to return the favor.

A miss. Perhaps a gun hadn't been the smartest choice in armament, but it was a little late to be rethinking his approach now. He had a job to do, and nothing was going to keep him from it. No matter what happened.

He watched in amusement as the oversized weapons were aimed in his direction. A cross; their shape was yet another reason he'd known that they'd been right to target this man. As their triggers were squeezed, Loki simply stood where he was, glancing briefly down to the "entry points" as each round struck him. One bonus of being what he was meant there was little more than a smudge on his flesh. But the tears in his clothing was proof that Livio's aim had been true.

Looking back up again, his smirk returned, arms outstretched either side. "That's all? He made me better than that, I'm afraid. How much use would an Angel of Death be if a few bullets were enough to stop him?" The switch back to seriousness was quick, and his gun was being levelled once more as he began heading closer.

He wasn't in a rush.

[ooc: I'm really sorry for both how slow-assed I am with replying, and how sucky my tags are. D= I've never been much good with fight scenes, so please bear with me?]

That...wasn't good. For a moment, Livio just stared. He'd hit the guy. He knew he had. The tears in his clothing where the bullets had penetrated were proof...

But nothing had happened.

Shit.

It was just his luck, too. The powers-that-be, whoever or whatever the were, really must've had it out for him. Honestly. What. The. Freaking. Hell. You'd think the fact that every person he hated most from home was here in the City, but no. He had to go piss of the Angel-of-freakin'-Death. Just perfect. Lovely. Exactly the way he wanted to spend his night, duking it out with a divine being.

His opponent was advancing, and Livio thought quickly, weighing his options. He had no idea what kind of abilities his foe had, but since he was immortal (apparently), this was obviously not a fight he could win. Of course, if the only weapon the guy had was a handgun, then it wasn't a fight he could lose, either, because hey, regeneration much? So...where did that leave him?

He had three choices: 1) He could keep fighting and probably get nowhere for it, 2) run away, or 3) try to convince said Angel-of-freakin'-Death to leave him the fuck alone. None of those options were very appealing. He refused to believe there was no way out of this, though. There was always a way, and consequences be damned, he'd find it.

Livio lowered his guns and slipped them back into their holsters. Guns were no use here, obviously, and he didn't want to have to spend the extra money to replace the bullets he wasted. He'd just have to play it smart, play it easy...and play it to get the fuck out of dodge. But first, he wanted to know just what he was up against here. Therefore...

"Good question. Though a better question would be why said Angel of Death needs a gun to kill a lowly human. And an even better question than that would be how said Angel of Death intends to kill the afore-mentioned lowly human who can not only dodge the bullets from said gun but also recover from being shot in the head." He folded his arms over his chest, eyebrows raised, the picture of confidence. "Care to share with the rest of the peanut gallery? We're dying to know."

Edited 2008-04-23 02:28 (UTC)

Livio's sudden switch caused Loki to almost double-take. He could tell the man was buying for time. Or information. Or something. Did he honestly think that it would make a difference? In the end, Loki would find a way to kill him, even if he had to remove the mans head from his body by hand. That was his purpose, afterall. He was made to kill those who deserved it. And Livio deserved it.

Completely.

The lowered guns, the confident stance; he'd seen it all before. But he'd play along. He always did. What was the point of having a job like his if you couldn't enjoy yourself every now and then? The gun was shifted away from Livio, that very same hand used to scratch at the side of his head. One similarity between the two of them. Neither had much to fear from a loaded gun being pointed to their head.

"You know, there are millions of ways to kill a person." A slight beat. "Well of course you'd know. You're a regular expert by now, aren't you?" A glance over to Livio's weapons and his smirk returned. "I think the better question is; how're you going to stop me with those?" His weapon was lowered once again, held loosely. It was out only for the sake of not being bothered to put it away. And why should he? If Livio decided to raise a weapon against him, then he's stop the man. If Loki decided to make a move of his own, well...the gun wouldn't break if he dropped it to the floor.

"Well?"

Livio didn't bat an eye, just watched his opponent calmly as Loki also lowered his gun. The tension didn't ease, though; if anything, Livio felt it more acutely. Still, it wasn't really anything new. He'd had assignments before that had made him feel this...not necessarily "unease," but definitely something like it. He was...waiting. Expecting a blow that would most likely come at an unexpected time that he would nonetheless have to be ready for. He had been trained for that purpose...and as much as Livio disliked agreeing with the one trying to kill him, Loki had a point. He was an expert on killing people--a tried and tested assassin with the Eye of Michael's stamp of approval.

Except, that wasn't who he was anymore. Loki kept trying to poke him with past sins, but Livio had already gone through a whole lot of shit to try to make up for the things he'd done. He doubted he would ever entirely make up for it all, but as long as he tried, Livio believed there was still hope, even for someone with hands as bloody as his. And that was really what it all came down to, in the end. Loki seemed to be stuck on the idea "once a sinner, always a sinner," but Livio didn't think that was true at all and resented the fact that Loki was trying to take that chance--that ability to do better--away from him. It was wrong. Angel of Death, he might have been, but he had a lot to fucking learn, as far as Livio was concerned, and the sentiment showed on his face.

"You're right. I do know. I was trained to be a killer. Apparently, you were made to be one." He pushed up the brim of his hat, looking down at Loki solemnly from his greater height. "I don't need to stop you. With these," he tapped a Doublefang, still eyeing Loki, "or anything else. You're the one who's trying to accomplish something here, not me. I'd be home in bed right now if it wasn't for you, and I can tell you right now I'd much rather be there than here." A small, humorless smile touched his lips. "I'm waiting for my lesson, executioner. Deliver it now, or go away. I haven't got all night."

His stance remained unchanged, still confident, his arms crossed over his chest. However, he was ready to move at a second's notice--less than that, in fact--and once Loki made his move, Livio would make his.

"Jesus Christ. A fucking executioner?" He was on the verge of laughing now, and wasn't anywhere close to wanting to stop himself. He'd been called a number of different names during his tenure. Angel. Demon. Horseman. A judge, jury, and executioner rolled in to one being. But that was far from what he really was. He was simply a tool, a weapon set to take care of those on the list Livio had managed to add himself to. If the man had made the right choices during his life, then neither of them would be in this situation right now.

He gave a brief glance down to his hand; to the weapon it held. "Was is the gun? I bet it was the gun." His amused expression just wouldn't leave him. "Everyone seems to be running around wielding guns these days. I tried to get Bartleby to let me use something more suitable. But nooo, a gun was neater. Not to mention it meant we were out of there quicker. Fucking guy wanted to be back around all of you again." He had no idea why he was bothering to hang back. Afterall, it was his job to kill this man, not to talk to him. Livio had already admitted, both to himself and out loud, that he was guilty of the crimes he was being punished for. So why hold back?

"You're probably like one of those fucking headless chickens. You know, running around for ages after, their body still not caught up to the fact they should be dead. I wonder how long you'll keep twitching when I try that out on you." Finally, the gun was raised as Loki took purposeful steps forward, closing the gap between them. It wasn't a run, yet it wasn't a stroll. The gun was shot, the series of bullets fired being nothing more than a distraction; a cover, as he tried to get closer.

[ooc: ALKSDFAKJDGSLA My net completely crapped out on me for the whole fricking day! >O I'm back around now though, so hopefully we can get this b*tch done u__uV]

Livio said nothing, watching without expression as Loki began to laugh. It was a nice touch, he supposed, more than a little wry. It would've been boring if the Angel-of-freakin'-Death had no sense of humor. Albeit, it was a distorted sense of humor, but a sense of humor nonetheless. Besides, he couldn't really talk about that, given that half of his psyche was sane and the other wasn't...

The only good thing about Loki's type, though, was that they apparently liked to talk. A lot. Therefore, while the angel was giving his spiel, Livio was alternating between keeping an eye on him and scanning his surroundings. It was about halfway through Loki's speech that Livio had one of those rare moments--those fleeting flashes of inspiration when everything falls into place. He almost smiled, but opted to refrain. That would be telling, after all. Instead, he waiting for Loki to finish, eyes bright (almost mischievous, really) as he replied.

"You'll never know."

He said it simply, the words matter-of-fact as Loki began his advance...but Livio was already moving. He didn't even try to dodge the bullets, letting them hit him, as he took a leaf out of Yoichi's book and basically slammed as hard as he could into Loki (the guy was immortal, he could stand to take a hit) in grand, tackle-football style. The momentum nearly caused him to topple over, but he regained his balance in moments before taking off like a shot, ignoring the multiple gunshot wounds as he ran, each breath paining his punctured lung. He'd make it, though. He swore it.

What'd he'd just done might not have been the bravest thing on the world, but there were times, he had come to learn, when discretion was the better part of valor.

That was why he was running--would keep on running, in fact--until he was sure he'd put enough distance between himself and his would-be executioner. Maybe he did deserve to die for all the things he'd done...but not like that.

Never like that.

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