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The spider had an odd way of playing games, Feitan especially.
The torture specialist was more interested in playing a game of Russian roulette today.
He saw Feitan holding a revolver.
“I thought this would be a normal fight?” The Kurta asked as that's why he thought he was meeting up with a phantom troupe member to begin with.
Feitan merely shrugged his shoulders, what was wrong with this?
"What is difference?" Feitan asked because either way there would be blood to be spilled—either Kurapika's or Feitan's.
"How are we supposed to do this?"
Oh, so Kurapika was down to try his game.
This would be fun.
He could bludgeon Kurapika with a sword and Kurapika could use his infamous chain jail, but Feitan is so glad he gets to play a game of chance with Kurapika.
"More interesting...?" Feitan suggested, huh, did Kurapika even know how to play?
"What are you suggesting?"
Feitan grinned, "Russian roulette, a game of chance."
This isn’t something Kurapika had expected when he had come over for an apparent “fight”.
Kurapika nodded, "and how do we play?"
Feitan explained the rules of how there were six chambers and one chamber had a bullet within it and spinning of the revolver's cylinder to move the bullet throughout the chambers.
"And what does this prove exactly...?" Kurapika asked and he might have been surprised had it been anyone but Feitan saying this "for fun."
After all the blond isn't surprised of what the torture specialist thinks is "fun.”
"Fine," Kurapika says and Feitan looks excited as he has the revolver ready, puts the bullet in, cycles it through and hands it to Kurapika.
"You first."
Ah?
Did he think he was going to die on the first try?
Was Kurapika worried?
Yes but would he show that to Feitan? No.
"We can position the revolver at any point, correct?" Kurapika asked for confirmation of the rules, Feitan shrugged, sure that seemed fine.
So this was a game of pure luck?
He assumed it would get more dangerous as it progressed until one of them died or got shot—he wondered if Feitan got a sick thrill out of this—he wonders what the torture specialist is even into?
Kurapika let's the revolver cycle through, switching the bullet through the six chambers.
Kurapika positions the revolver and points it at his thigh.
Kurapika pulls the trigger—no bang.
Feitan grins.
This would be an exciting game.
"Your turn?" Kurapika then handed the revolver to Feitan.
Feitan doesn’t even need a second to think after he cycles the bullet through the chambers, he places it against his neck, pulls the trigger.
No bang.
Kurapika isn’t impressed though, was the troupe member trying to make him commit a bold action in his own risk taking?
Kurapika feels it will end up happening at some point.
“Afraid?” Feitan asked.
Absolutely not, Kurapika cycled his round through and pointed the revolver at his foot.
Click.
Click, still no bang.
This game became a stalemate; so far no one had been shot.
“Can we position the same place twice?” Kurapika asked.
Feitan thought that would be boring apparently, so he said no.
Kurapika imagined the torture specialist had been keeping track of what places they both had shot blanks at.
So in the end it would become a more dangerous game that way.
“Your turn,” Kurapika said as he passed the revolver back to Feitan.
Feitan put the revolver to his head; Kurapika kind of hoped it would kill Feitan this time.
Click, click, nothing.
Kurapika was beginning to question if there was even really a bullet in there and if so why would Feitan not put a bullet?
What was there to gain?
Did he want him to have a fear of dying to an imaginary bullet that might not even be in the gun now?
Kurapika shook his head of such thoughts.
No, there had to be one right?
Kurapika took the revolver from Feitan.
Wait—what was the chain user doing because he was opening his mouth and—holy shit he was positioning the gun against his tongue—which was kind of hot and exciting.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Feitan asked.
“A game of chance?” Kurapika said as if Feitan had forgotten that what game they were playing.
There wasn’t a hint of fear in the Kurta’s eyes.
Kurapika tongued the inside of the gun barrel.
The phantom troupe member must have been surprised by such an action.
Well, that was Kurapika’s guess at least.
Kurapika pulls the trigger, click, click, nothing.
Kurapika isn’t sure why Feitan’s expression is so…?
He can’t believe that the phantom troupe member is actually shocked by such an action.
Or maybe it’s not exactly shock—maybe it was exciting to see, interesting maybe?
Kurapika pulls the gun out of his mouth, saliva coating the gun barrel.
“Your turn,” Kurapika says as if it was normal, as if he didn’t just lick a gun.
Feitan took the gun, touching the saliva that coated the tip of the gun and the gun barrel.
“Are we still playing this stupid game or?”
It really was stupid, why hadn’t anyone been shot yet?
Feitan was admiring the gun still, he opened the chamber, sure enough, there was a bullet in there—they both either had really good luck or really bad luck at being shot.
Feitan poured in five more bullets, filling the six chambers in total.
So the torture specialist was getting serious now?
“Better, more easier to inflict wound now,” Feitan said.
They didn’t even need to cycle through anymore—there was a hundred percent chance they were going to get shot now, well unless the gun ended up not firing by dumb luck.
“Considering it’s your turn, it’s your funeral,” Kurapika said but Feitan only laughed.
Kurapika was interested in seeing where Feitan would fire the bullet.
“Do you just want someone to be shot now? Did you change the rules?”
Feitan didn’t answer—he hadn’t expected both of them to not have some kind of wound by now.
Kurapika had a point; there was no point with six chambers full.
Feitan tossed the gun away completely.
“So, are we no longer playing this weird game of yours?”
Kurapika wasn’t sure what Feitan was trying to achieve to begin with, with this game.
“Different idea.”
Feitan handed the blond a knife, pulled off his hood like outfit, exposing his back to the Kurta.
“You want me to cut you?” Kurapika asked trying to confirm this.
Feitan nodded as if it was normal.
Kurapika wasn’t sure what was happening anymore—first not a fight, second a weird game of Russian roulette, then somehow gunplay had come into the game.
Kurapika wondered if they were even trying to kill each other anymore.
The blond could say he pegs Feitan to be a masochist and a sadist.
Well, he is a torture specialist.
The latter was at his mercy though; he could carve whatever he wanted into Feitan’s back.
Kurapika decided he would carve his name into Feitan’s back.
It was Feitan’s idea to begin with, his problem if he regretted it later.
Kurapika held the knife steady in his hand.
Kurapika carved not so carefully the letter ‘K’ as he admired it for a moment.
Feitan barely made a sound—he was likely use to such things.
The blond kept going as he carved the next few letters, a dazzling ‘Kurapika’ carved in and shining in red for all who happened to see.
Kurapika didn’t care if Feitan necessarily died of blood loss but that didn’t stop him from asking his question.
“What are you wanting to do about the excess blood leaking off your body?”
Kurapika wondered silently to himself if he had just given Feitan in a way, a tattoo.
“No, is fine,” Feitan said.
It didn’t seem fine.
Kurapika ran his finger along the carved name he had written, blood staining his fingers.
Kurapika had come here with the intention of murdering Feitan and he thought the phantom troupe member wanted to do the same but this.. this was different.
Very different from what he had thought would happen.
He was told the other members were out or were busy, so no one would disturb them.
Kurapika sighed.
“Mm?” Feitan must’ve wondered what was troubling the Kurta.
“Well, this was certainly different,” Kurapika said.
Kurapika asked him what exactly made him change his mind midway game and what was with the game to begin with.
“Thought would be interesting… was.”
Yeah, Kurapika was sure the gunplay was interesting, especially with how carried away he got with it.
The blond felt slightly embarrassed, god, he had licked the gun barrel as if he was dehydrated and needed water.
How embarrassing.
“Hm..?” Feitan was wondering why the Kurta’s face was reddening, and likely enough if Kurapika wasn’t wearing his contacts his red eyes would be showing.
Which was a beautiful sight to behold, honestly.
“Nothing, I got carried away.” Kurapika thought it was odd for them to be having a semi-normal conversation.
Oh, right, Feitan recalled when Kurapika had licked the gun—he thought it was hot, at that point in time he sort of hoped the bullet would’ve fired off and Kurapika’s blood would’ve been splattered but he also hoped against it happening.
Kurapika looked at the blood still oozing out—it was unsettling how calm Feitan was about it.
“You should do something about that, aren’t you worried about bleeding out?”
Feitan’s answer was concerning.
“Is fine.”
Ugh.
The blond sighed as if he hadn’t already embarrassed himself enough.
Kurapika stuck out his tongue, admired the carved letters of his name, pressed his tongue against Feitan’s back, sending a chill up Feitan’s spine.
Kurapika’s tongue was wet and warm; it stung against his cut wound.
Feitan didn’t mind it though, his breathing becoming a bit slower as Kurapika circled his tongue around the letters.
Running a finger over them each time he licked the oozing blood off.
Still the Kurta’s name was on Feitan’s back.
Very obvious and shining in red—at least Kurapika had been nice enough to stop the excess bleeding.
Kurapika stopped and looked at it, well that was better, Feitan turned around and he was staring at the blond’s mouth.
Kurapika then hastily tried to wipe the blood off his lips.
Feitan muttered something that Kurapika didn’t hear.
If the blond didn’t know better he could’ve swore he heard “I can help with that”.
Feitan put a hand to Kurapika’s face, tilted the blond’s chin upwards.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Kurapika didn’t really receive an answer in words; Feitan wasn’t very good with them anyway.
He preferred to act and show rather than anything else.
Feitan pressed his lips to Kurapika’s as he licked the blood still on the blond’s lips, tasting his own blood.
Kurapika’s body froze for a moment, his fist shaking slightly.
Feitan pulled away, licking his lips.
Kurapika sputtered as he whipped his mouth.
“What in gods name was that for?!”
The Kurta was irritated or maybe he was embarrassed—either way it was something.
“Cleaning blood off,” Feitan said simply.
Well, that actually made a lot of sense.
There were other ways of doing it, though Feitan likely didn’t care.
Kurapika wondered if the rest of the troupe members were back yet.
He should probably get going; after all he didn’t want to stay here longer than needed if their game was over.
Kurapika didn’t know what to say, what could be said?
Thank you for the interesting—weird, events that followed tonight? Is that what he could say?
Kurapika shrugs and makes his way to the door—Feitan doesn’t stop him.
It’s a casual thing.
Feitan likely won’t say anything.
Though hiding a carved name of “Kurapika” could prove to be a difficult task.
Kurapika leaves without another word.
Feitan traces the letter ‘K’ on his back and licks his own fingers afterwards.
“Hey, Feitan where were you today?” Phinks asked.
Oh had they had a meeting?
Feitan was doing something more important.
“Important business…” Feitan muttered.
Feitan was heading off to shower.
He hoped none of the other members would be using the shower, lest they see his back.
He needed to wash off the blood that still remained; Kurapika’s tongue didn’t do the job fully.
Feitan walked down the corridors and into the washroom.
They had separate showers for the troupe members, mainly in case any of them wanted privacy from the other.
Feitan didn’t think he had to worry about anyone coming in.
He turned on the shower, removed his cloak.
Stepped in the shower, water stinging against his still fresh wound, blood running down the drain.
The stinging sensation through out his body doesn’t bother him though.
Feitan sensed a presence approaching and then he heard a voice.
“Hey, Feitan what’s with all the blood did you kill someone while we were having a meeting?”
He turned around and at least it wasn’t Phinks.
It was Shalnark.
“Yes,” Feitan answered.
Shalnark observed the torture specialists wounds.
“Really because—“
It must have been rather obvious; the words were plain to see after all.
“Because what?” Feitan asked.
Shalnark’s had a smug look on his face.
“Wait, did you ditch a meeting to… have some fun with some girl?” Shalnark was completely off but Feitan wouldn’t tell him that.
Feitan didn’t answer.
“She must have been pretty rough, I guess that’s what you’re into though, didn’t know you had a girlfriend!” Shalnark said with a mocking tone.
Feitan just wanted to continue his shower in peace.
He groaned.
“Your back is really… mutilated,” Shalnark stated.
Shalnark looked a bit closer making out some words carved in Feitan’s back—wow; Feitan’s girlfriend was a property marker?
How possessive.
“Kurkipa?” Shalnark was trying to make it out still but it seemed a bit blurry do to the water running the blood away currently.
“No wait it says… Kura…” Shalnark was still trying to make it out when Feitan turned away.
“Hey! I’m just trying to read your girlfriend’s name.” Though Feitan had no “girlfriend” and Shalnark’s guessing was way off.
“It says none of your concern,” Feitan spat harshly.
“I just wanted to see what kind of name she had! Is she a permanent girlfriend or were you having one night stands?”
Shalnark’s questions were beginning to irritate Feitan because none of those things had happened and he didn’t have sex with Kurapika, they had some strange moments together yes but nothing further than that, nor were they dating.
Nor could Feitan see himself dating… Kurapika?
Dating.
The very concept seemed odd to Feitan.
Feitan explained that it was nothing like that.
“Then why is your back all messed up?” Shalnark pressed the subject.
Feitan didn’t want to have to answer these questions.
“Tch’ don’t make me go to Chrollo about this!” Shalnark mused because he could possibly get them to do a “tails or heads” flip a coin kind of deal to get Feitan to spill what he was hiding.
“Yes, fine, had a night with my girlfriend,” Feitan said if it would get Shalnark to drop this.
Shalnark’s smile still remained.
“What’s your girlfriend like?” Shalnark asked.
Feitan paused for a moment to think, how far was he going to dig into this lie.
“Blond, uses chains, almost killed me once.”
Shalnark nodded “Haha, yeah, girls do that.”
Feitan was surprised at how Shalnark actually thought this was a “girl” he was dating and had not put two and two together yet.
Feitan grabbed a towel and dried off.
Shalnark stared for a moment.
“Wait… I recognize that name…” Shalnark’s calm expression became one of shock.
“…Kura…Kurapika?!” Shalnark had finally recognized the name, the very chain user that had killed Uvogin?
Shalnark had a million questions, one was why was Kurapika, Feitan’s “girlfriend” and secondly, why was his name carved in Feitan’s back?
Even more than that what the hell did Feitan do with Kurapika while ditching their meeting?
“So, are you going to tell me what happened… or…”
Feitan sighed, he wanted to avoid this unnecessary talk, what he did with someone wasn’t anyone’s business, though he knows it is their business if it’s someone like Kurapika.
“We played a game of Russian roulette, no one shot though…” Feitan stated.
Shalnark was curious about the carved name and the excess bleeding then.
“Then why the…?”
Feitan finished Shalnark’s sentence for him “cuts?”
Feitan explained that there had been some form of knife play involved after his odd game of Russian roulette with the Kurta, which he explained about Kurapika’s “seductive way” of licking a gun.
“So… you didn’t have sex with him then?” Shalnark asked.
What kind of questions were these.
“No,” Feitan answered.
“Can I ask why Kurapika?” Shalnark was curious about Feitan’s decision with that.
“Didn’t expect things to happen.”
He really didn’t, things just sort of happened.
He had only gotten in contact with Kurapika because of Hisoka, the magician still had the Kurta’s number after all.
It wasn’t hard.
“So are you two dating or?” Honestly what kind of questions were these that Shalnark had?
“Made out, did some things, nothing more, not sure…”
Feitan couldn’t see himself dating someone like Kurapika because honestly they hated each other not just that, the troupe too.
“Has this happened before?” Shalnark asked.
What was he implying that he had done these kinds of things more than once?
No, this was the first time he had done anything with Kurapika.
Though he’s not sure if he would mind it happening again.
“Not answering anymore questions, bored,” Feitan said as he walked off as he put back on his cloak like outfit.
“Heh! All right just uh, be careful, use protection and—“ Feitan interrupted Shalnark with him hurling something at the blond.
“Jeez! I was just kidding around!” Shalnark yelled as he watched the torture specialist exit the room.
Shalnark thought it would be odd if Feitan did date Kurapika, that’d be weird for everyone, not just Feitan, especially with the whole “oh yeah tried to kill you and your group once and I sort of massacred your entire family, no big deal though.”
Shalnark assumed it was just a fling between the two.
Feitan wasn’t sure himself.
Would it happen again?
Oh most definitely if Kurapika ever wanted it too—Feitan hated to admit it but… the blond was… fun, interesting, exciting and he wanted to see those eyes show something other than hatred for once.
He wanted to see Kurapika’s eyes shining for him and only him.
Alas Feitan is sure that will never happen again, so he is content with his fantasies.
Feitan travels back down the corridors and into one of the rooms, he grabs one of his books.
Yes, reading to take his mind off these feelings he didn’t understand would be better.