[People in the trade of making weapons shouldn't bemoan their use, even if it brings about their end. What lay in those crates are tools of murder, beautiful sometimes in craft, but still meant for killing nonetheless.
These men may not have intended to die here, tonight, but they've given the means for the slaughter of so many others. Each blade could take countless lives.
No one is innocent.
Takasugi spares Cain his logic - not for his throbbing jaw, nor to spare his companion another slice taken.
The night is moving on without them, and they'll need the cover of darkness to slip into the city.]
Aa.
We'll have to split the profit, then. [Almost disappointed, if he sounded at all genuine. He considers dividing their payout in the proportion of weapons, more for him than for Cain.
But this has never been about money.
And he doubts Cain has his sights on silver, either.]
Take this one, and follow me. [Takasugi drags his hand across the edge of the crate he'd been lightening, peeling his fingers from it to toss the lid back on top. He lifts the other, a swath of linen placed over the top to obscure the contents in lieu of the shattered cover.
He drops the blade in the mud. The crate is lifted without duress, but it's certainly a job that requires two hands, and careful footing in the muck and blood; he traverses the corpses with more regard than he'd paid for their lives.]
no subject
These men may not have intended to die here, tonight, but they've given the means for the slaughter of so many others. Each blade could take countless lives.
No one is innocent.
Takasugi spares Cain his logic - not for his throbbing jaw, nor to spare his companion another slice taken.
The night is moving on without them, and they'll need the cover of darkness to slip into the city.]
Aa.
We'll have to split the profit, then. [Almost disappointed, if he sounded at all genuine. He considers dividing their payout in the proportion of weapons, more for him than for Cain.
But this has never been about money.
And he doubts Cain has his sights on silver, either.]
Take this one, and follow me. [Takasugi drags his hand across the edge of the crate he'd been lightening, peeling his fingers from it to toss the lid back on top. He lifts the other, a swath of linen placed over the top to obscure the contents in lieu of the shattered cover.
He drops the blade in the mud. The crate is lifted without duress, but it's certainly a job that requires two hands, and careful footing in the muck and blood; he traverses the corpses with more regard than he'd paid for their lives.]