Things
Cephied Variable
"If you continue replacing your body parts with weapons and traps, Sasori-san," the san always sounds forced when used between Akatsuki memebers, "Soon your entire body will be a puppet. That seems a little ambitious, even for you."
"How is that any different from what you do, Orochimaru?" Sasori counters calmly, hunched over his work with his hair falling in his face and the blade carving deep lines into the carefully crafted container. It looks as if it's made of bone, but Orochimaru isn't about to ask- any of Sasori's secrets revealed means that Orochimaru will be at liberty to reveal one of his (although he's begun to doubt if Sasori cares about, or even sees, a world outside that of his puppets), "Those bodies of yours," the sand nin continues, "Nothing but toys and masks. You should understand that there are times when it is more convinient to fight with flesh that isn't your own Understand the freedom of not being bound to one body. Aren't you the one who wants to live forever?"
Sasori looks up and rests one palm against the ominous chest he is kneeling beside. Smooth, black and shaped vaguely like a coffin, this is where Sasori keeps his newly made puppets.
Orochimaru frowns darkly and toys with words on his lips. If you can even call that living, Sasori-san.
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He expects Sasori of the Red Sands- the lengendary Puppeteer who destroyed an entire county in one night with his monsterous creations- to be taller at least. He doesn't expect his new partner to be this- a delicate looking child with dark red hair falling in his face, a sleepy looking expression and too thin wrists. Deidara leans against the wall casually and watches the sand nin work for a few moments, twisting joints, turning screws, the puppet's limbs clacking and dragging hollowly across the floor. Deidara notes that Sasori doesn't blink.
"The shark man told me something interesting, huh." he comments lazily, flipping his pale bangs out of his eyes, "He said that we're all monsters, yeah, but you're the only one who's not human." Sasori doesn't look up and Deidara frowns, "That true?"
Sasori's hands are steady and swift with unnatural dexterity. "I'm an artist." he replies simply.
Deidara purses his lips and blinks a few times, uncertain as to how exactly to reply to that, "Oh." he says finally, "Yeah, me too."
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"There are several layers to the underworld," Sasori says, running his fingers over the kanji carved into the container. His eyes blink, wrinkled at the corners, "There are also several layers to the human life. The most superficial is that of the body- the way it moves, the way it interacts and feels. Below that are the vital organs which keep the body alive and moving. Next is conciousness, the essence of personality and lateral thinking, and then there is the most basic, most vital layer... which is chakra." he opens the coffin-shaped chest carefully and gently lifts the puppet inside, laying it across his lap like a mother would a baby. It's a deadly looking creature- blades and needles and trap doors at every joint- but it has the face of a child. Orochimaru recognizes the flawlessly rendered features, complete with wide, dispassionate eyes and straw like, desert-red hair. It is the face of Sasori when he left his village. The face he wore when he first joined the Akatsuki.
"These are the basics of puppeteering. As long as something possesses chakra, it is still considered alive. A thing, of course, but alive nevertheless. However-" and here, Sasori pauses to slide the container into the gap in the puppet's chest, "- as long as something has conciousness, it is considered a human no matter what kind of body it wears." Sasori loops an arm behind the puppet's neck and hoists it into a sitting position in his lap. He swivels around to fix Orochimaru with an uncharacteristically wry smile.
"How do you like my new body, Orochimaru-san?"
fin.