(no subject)
Aug. 8th, 2010 01:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kat8chaSanada disliked Atobe Keigo. He did not hate Atobe Keigo, although Yukimura did, with the power of a thousand stars, but there was no way he could like the man. Before Sanada had come to Yukimura he had met Atobe Keigo, who at that point had been a gifted empathy under the rather powerful thumb of his father, and been turned off immediately. There was something about people with that level of wealth and power being pretentious assholes that made Sanada feel unhappy.
Not that many things made Sanada feel happy. Generally he was neutral.
The false Church of St. Rudolph made Sanada unhappy as well. The thought of psychics preying on those less powerful, or just plain stupid, made Sanada’s stomach gurgle and his fists clench. Being in the same room as the man who was said to have founded the church made Sanada want to kill him.
Although some of that might have been Yukimura’s loathing of Atobe coloring Sanada’s thoughts and Renji’s justifiable rage at not being informed of Yukimura’s plan.
“Not all that bad?” Atobe asked, his eyes a fraction too wide, his smile a fraction too false. He had turned around to face them and had shifted slightly, blocking the somnapath with his body. As if that would save the other psychic should Yukimura or Sanada feel like using their powers.
Although, it might not be an easy fight. Sanada sensed a great deal of power coming from the angry young man next to Mizuki Hajime. While Sanada was unaffected by the powers of empaths (he was ‘dead’ to psychics who impacted on an emotional scale outside of Renji and Yukimura) he, like most psychics, could not attack a mind and protect his own at the same time, and the young man with the scar was powerful.
Not powerful enough to take Sanada on his own, however.
“He can get a little overenthusiastic.” Yukimura smiled brightly at Atobe, then shifted his smile to Mizuki. “Rather like some other people I know. Haven’t we told you that you are not to step foot on my territory?”
Mizuki, who was probably affecting the emotions of those in the room, sniffed and lazily ran his fingers through his curls. The young man with short hair and sharp eyes glanced at Yukimura, a strange slight smile flitting over his face before he glanced back to Mizuki. Sanada could feel the buzz of psychic communication escalate. Some of it was subliminal, Atobe’s connections from mind to mind to mind, some of it was obvious, the connect between Mizuki and his sneaky friend.
Yagyuu’s feet clang on the gangplank as he and Niou climb it to stand behind Sanada and Yukimura. It takes a split second, shorter time than it took for the idea to form in Kisarazu Atsushi’s head, for Yagyuu to pluck the information and pass it on.
“If you attempt to do that,” Sanada growls, sounding like the pre-curser to a thunderstorm. “I will break you all.”
Strike like lightening.
“No one was going to do anything.” Atobe slices his hand through the air, as useless as his authority is. Mizuki has paled slightly, and his bodyguards have stepped forward. The deadzone has moved suspiciously close to Mizuki, and the dark skinned psychic and scarred psychic have stepped in front. “I can’t imagine why you would think so, Sanada, your parents did a very poor job teaching you manners.”
Sanada snorts, and lets Yukimura handle this one. Yukimura’s mind feels like an ice cold lake, the pure kind that only exist if one goes far out on the settlement, to the underground lakes that feed Rikkai’s moon base.
Things must not be going too badly if you’re thinking of our next vacation, Genichirou. Yanagi’s voice was chilly. The scarred ‘brat’ is Fuji Yuuta, brother to Fuji Syuusuke. He joined the church some time ago. Watch out for the one with short hair, Kisarazu Atsushi is one of St. Rudolph’s ‘miracles’. He is quite possibly the reason Atobe is alive.
Sanada allowed Yanagi’s thoughts to ramble on, washing over him. He was sure that the others would get the information as well. Yanagi’s parting statement made Sanada take one step closer to Yukimura, his hand resting on Yukimura’s arm for reassurance as to the other’s wellbeing.
He could cause a relapse in Seiichi.
Not that many things made Sanada feel happy. Generally he was neutral.
The false Church of St. Rudolph made Sanada unhappy as well. The thought of psychics preying on those less powerful, or just plain stupid, made Sanada’s stomach gurgle and his fists clench. Being in the same room as the man who was said to have founded the church made Sanada want to kill him.
Although some of that might have been Yukimura’s loathing of Atobe coloring Sanada’s thoughts and Renji’s justifiable rage at not being informed of Yukimura’s plan.
“Not all that bad?” Atobe asked, his eyes a fraction too wide, his smile a fraction too false. He had turned around to face them and had shifted slightly, blocking the somnapath with his body. As if that would save the other psychic should Yukimura or Sanada feel like using their powers.
Although, it might not be an easy fight. Sanada sensed a great deal of power coming from the angry young man next to Mizuki Hajime. While Sanada was unaffected by the powers of empaths (he was ‘dead’ to psychics who impacted on an emotional scale outside of Renji and Yukimura) he, like most psychics, could not attack a mind and protect his own at the same time, and the young man with the scar was powerful.
Not powerful enough to take Sanada on his own, however.
“He can get a little overenthusiastic.” Yukimura smiled brightly at Atobe, then shifted his smile to Mizuki. “Rather like some other people I know. Haven’t we told you that you are not to step foot on my territory?”
Mizuki, who was probably affecting the emotions of those in the room, sniffed and lazily ran his fingers through his curls. The young man with short hair and sharp eyes glanced at Yukimura, a strange slight smile flitting over his face before he glanced back to Mizuki. Sanada could feel the buzz of psychic communication escalate. Some of it was subliminal, Atobe’s connections from mind to mind to mind, some of it was obvious, the connect between Mizuki and his sneaky friend.
Yagyuu’s feet clang on the gangplank as he and Niou climb it to stand behind Sanada and Yukimura. It takes a split second, shorter time than it took for the idea to form in Kisarazu Atsushi’s head, for Yagyuu to pluck the information and pass it on.
“If you attempt to do that,” Sanada growls, sounding like the pre-curser to a thunderstorm. “I will break you all.”
Strike like lightening.
“No one was going to do anything.” Atobe slices his hand through the air, as useless as his authority is. Mizuki has paled slightly, and his bodyguards have stepped forward. The deadzone has moved suspiciously close to Mizuki, and the dark skinned psychic and scarred psychic have stepped in front. “I can’t imagine why you would think so, Sanada, your parents did a very poor job teaching you manners.”
Sanada snorts, and lets Yukimura handle this one. Yukimura’s mind feels like an ice cold lake, the pure kind that only exist if one goes far out on the settlement, to the underground lakes that feed Rikkai’s moon base.
Things must not be going too badly if you’re thinking of our next vacation, Genichirou. Yanagi’s voice was chilly. The scarred ‘brat’ is Fuji Yuuta, brother to Fuji Syuusuke. He joined the church some time ago. Watch out for the one with short hair, Kisarazu Atsushi is one of St. Rudolph’s ‘miracles’. He is quite possibly the reason Atobe is alive.
Sanada allowed Yanagi’s thoughts to ramble on, washing over him. He was sure that the others would get the information as well. Yanagi’s parting statement made Sanada take one step closer to Yukimura, his hand resting on Yukimura’s arm for reassurance as to the other’s wellbeing.
He could cause a relapse in Seiichi.
