POV: Trigger

Huffing at the sight of the marksman, I relaxed with my back leaning against the wall. He was calmly smoking from his pipe since I came in.

We have only exchanged greetings and a bit of smack talk with no weight to it. Weird, he is usually a very mouthy bastard.

"Trigger… your name is a bit too literal for your life." I quirked a brow when he suddenly spoke, as if he was trying to describe a particularly complex puzzle.

He looked up at me and gave me what I think was an 'eye smile', "It's almost like when you arrived, everything was set into motion. Almost as if someone pulled a trigger… and that shot just won't stop." He laughed softly right at the end before taking a whiff from his pipe.

Sounds like someone has been thinking about this for a while, "So, you are saying that me being here was a deliberate action done by someone else?" Seeing the facts, it was a pretty obvious conclusion.

"More than that, kid. You are a mean and finely bred killing machine… some can be born like this, but your natural ability to commit violence is something else, you learned to become a fighter in a matter of days. Don't try to trick me, I can tell when someone is being moved by the weapon or someone moves the weapon. You are a prodigy with a talent to dismantle your enemies." He explained to me with focused eyes, an intense stare that didn't fit his previous laid back attitude.

There was no way I could deny what he said, Primal Impulse was living proof that I was a natural at this. Still… the way he says it is a bit off, "What's up with you? Talking like all of this HAD to happen… it's a bit weird." Der hummed, and his eyes were reflecting amusement.

"Some things are just meant to happen, death is inevitable after all." I gave him a blank stare.

"Yes, water is wet and fire is hot. Your point?"

He laughed out loud, he found what I said to be hilarious, "Call it whatever you want, but I like to call it Fatalism, what is meant to happen will happen… your presence here feels like that of my bullets." I didn't appreciate the comparison.

He straightened his posture, "Once I pull the-hahaha… trigger, it flies and hits what it's meant to hit. I wonder where your particular 'shot' will land at?" I gave him a flat glare. It was only a matter of time for anyone to make that kind of joke.

"What are you getting at anyway?" I asked, having a pretty clear picture of what he was alluding to, but wanting to hear it from him anyway.

Der chuckled, "The day I picked up the Freikugel from the Devil was the first time I landed a shot. I thought of the only person I knew I would never hit… yet the shot still landed. No regret whatsoever, I saw her fall, and it felt good." Suddenly he was looming over me, eyes piercing me, while I simply gave him a look of annoyance.

"That single act cemented in my mind that I was not a good person, and that I didn't care if I was one… because I found my little piece of haven, just as you have." He leaned his face towards mine, centimeters apart, and I felt like knocking his head off.

I let him continue, "I will NEVER let the Freikugel go, and you? ...You would never let those around you go, they are your haven and reason to be so stubborn. That's what Fatalism is to me." Blinking in confusion at that, he seemed to catch on it.

"Those stubborn people that know what they want WILL make miracles happen. We do not let the perception of the world affect our choices, we only know what we want and who we are. The impossible is not a word that defines that kind of people." I frowned at his words and had to really mull them.

E.G.O fusion, fusing with an Abnormality… I wanted to say he was crazy, but there is truth to his words. I stuck to what I thought was right, and that took me to ridiculous places.

"So your view of Fatalism is… the complete focus and concentration to achieve a goal in spite of everything. I can at the very least agree with you on that, I'm a stubborn son of a bitch, and you are saying something is using that quality of mine for some grand purpose." After being silent for most of our talk, I finally spoke with a neutral tone.

Der nodded and backed off, "Indeed, there are some skilled workers in this 'prison' but even those are not comparable to you. They ended up here by chance… you are here because someone wants you here." Well, that last part was already on my mind for a long time.

And I THINK the only person that could give me an answer is a weird voice that talks to me at times, or 'C'... who I only spoke with once.

Sighing, I let my butterflies put my smoking pipe in my mouth. I have a feeling I'm going to need it, "Why tell me this?" He, for the first time ever, looked serious.

Der removed the pipe from his mouth, "The last bullet would hit whatever target the Devil chose… too bad 'he' was in the bullet's path." I frowned for a moment before blinking in realization.

He… wanted for me to get rid of whoever was pulling me around?

"I love freedom above all else. The only reason I don't attempt to leave this place is because it hardly feels like a prison." And with that, he put his pipe back in his mouth… I think. Does he even have one?

Not that it matters to me, guess this guy is more than just a bastard…

The room suddenly flashed green, "And here I thought you were only crazy… you are also passionate." That didn't remove the crazy.

He chuckled while I walked out of the room.

I wonder… if I could talk with 'C' again.

POV change: Justine

My eyes wandered around the hallways of the 'facility' with wonder, such a sad state and not one person seems to feel safe no matter what.

Less so around me. The… clerks, as I was told they are called, looked upon me with disgust, fear or a mixture of both. It didn't bother me at all, long ago I got used to such stares.

I looked down towards Bethany, she who looks up at my Companion with admiration… hers was a bit unique in comparison to what others showed. He was an example in her eyes.

Of what? I was not sure, but it certainly had to be interesting since it involves him. She was also my… caretaker for the next two days, to make sure I'm 'safe to be around' as the purple box said.

That poor man, he had such a brilliant soul, yet it seemed to have been scratched from all sides. He still stood strong even after such a rough experience.

I didn't hold any ill will towards him, even though my Companion and him had a clear quarrel with one another. Neither is a bad person, it was simply a clash of beliefs.

Yesod may have thought I would be offended by his actions, such as having Bethany keep an eye on me, but that only showed that he cared for his employees. It was all to minimize casualties if things went south.

"You seem awfully relaxed, Justine." I glanced down at her, she was focused on me for most of our time here.

She was also one of the few to use the name my Companion gave me, which I couldn't deny I found relaxing, "There is not much for me to fear. He trusts me to be able to interact with you and the others, then I should live up to such expectations." She instantly understood my explanation.

"Yeah… Trigger is that kind of guy. He really gets you going with the way he is." She spoke with not adoration, but appreciation. There is clearly a story between them.

"Did he perhaps help you too?" My inquiry was met with a short nod from her part.

He certainly seems to be himself no matter what, that sort of stubbornness is a talent on its own right.

It kind of reminds me of 'Love'… before it all went downhill. I would know if she were around, but I can't feel her. Yet, it seems like we were MEANT to meet him for some reason, so I feel like she will come here eventually.

What will happen if… WHEN she meets him? To some extent, it feels like me and Joy challenged a way he looked at the world.

And now that I think about it, isn't that too convenient? I held my meeting with him dearly… but the more I put thought into it, the more I was worried about someone using that as a chance to push my Companion into a certain direction.

There can't be a coincidence all three of us are here… if that were to happen, it would be all the proof I needed. Someone is setting up a path for my Companion.

Then the question would be, for what purpose?

...

My eyes snapped to the side, clowns? Small and little, they felt hollow and seemed to laugh… I also felt very uncomfortable while looking at it.

I… do not like this feeling. My swords appeared in a flash, one held already in my hand with a firm grip. With a simple mental command, they all moved to impale the clown. It was over in an instant.

Bethany stared at this whole spectacle with a surprised expression, "You… don't like clowns?" There was a moment of silence.

Is this how it feels to suddenly find something new about yourself? Cathartic, "It appears so..." From the left side, I managed to see Ryn come through.

She stared down at the swords that were making a pin cushion out of the clown, "No kill like overkill?" She sounded unsure and resigned.

"You are saying that like we don't do our own share of violence." Bethany said with a smirk, to which I noticed Ryn sighed.

"True enough… well, keep at it." She said while waving at us. I suppose that could be called a positive reaction in comparison to how that Gregor fellow sees me as.

I didn't know men could reach that pitch. A… unfortunate experience.

At the very least, I hope my Companion is ready for what's to come… if my feeling is correct, then there is no telling what kind of storm is approaching.

…

Perhaps teaching him a bit more swordsmanship could help with that… a thought for later. For now, I should focus on making a decent impression.

"Are you going to recall your swords or…?"

Ah, I felt like I was forgetting something…