[He shifts uncomfortably at his words. They're true - so true, especially for Sanson. It wasn't because of his practice in medicine that he became a Heroic Spirit, after all.
At the sight of the fresh blood still trickling, Sanson reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a clean white handkerchief.]
And it looks like the story of the Skillful Star will continue on this strange planet. [As will the story of the man who never wanted to become Monsieur de Paris.] I'll just clean up the blood and the dirt and you're done.
[Yan Qing lets Sanson treat him, smiling as he is reminded of the renowned physician of Mount Liang. Brother An always had a knack for making these things heal fast and hurt less. He served the emperor in the end, too. Ain't he lucky?]
Thanks. [He snorts.] To be continued, huh? I didn't think Water Margin would get a sci-fi reboot, but I'll take it. It's like Abraham Lincoln with vampire hunting, right? With less historical revisionism.
Maybe you'll be like a, uh, male cyberpunk Nightingale!
[Unlike Nightingale, however, Sanson's care is so much more practiced and gentle as he dabs away the blood and the grime. Perhaps one of the first things he should buy here is this world's equivalent of a first-aid kit; he doesn't have another handkerchief to spoil with the blood of the injured right now.
The idea of being a male cyberpunk Nightingale gets a short laugh out of Sanson though. It's a terrible, cursed idea, but still.]
I doubt I would be able to match Nightingale's...zeal. [Madness Enhancement, more like.] Or inclination towards amputation as a cure-all.
[The wounds have just healed, but he's afraid he might strain himself. He can still feel the tug of skin and muscle on his face. It doesn't stop him from smiling.]
Maybe, maybe. I guess even you get tired of that, huh?
[Smiling is fine; he will permit it. Because at least it isn't done at his expense. Kind of.
Sanson's own smile fades, however, as he finally withdraws the handkerchief.]
Anyone would, if they experienced having to behead at least one person almost every day for years.
[Also known as the French Revolution, when people actually complained of the smell of blood and rotting corpses, and on some days the number of executions left Sanson exhausted.]
[Don't lose sight of what's in front of you...in more ways than one. When Yan Qing gives him a hearty clap on the shoulder and takes his leave, all Sanson can do is give a wan smile and raise a hand in a simple wave.]
Hopefully we catch each other in better circumstances.
[He watches the other Assassin make the leap and doesn't leave until he has disappeared from sight. Sanson unfortunately doesn't know what "goodbye" or "see ya later" is in Chinese.]
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At the sight of the fresh blood still trickling, Sanson reaches into the pocket of his coat and produces a clean white handkerchief.]
And it looks like the story of the Skillful Star will continue on this strange planet. [As will the story of the man who never wanted to become Monsieur de Paris.] I'll just clean up the blood and the dirt and you're done.
no subject
Thanks. [He snorts.] To be continued, huh? I didn't think Water Margin would get a sci-fi reboot, but I'll take it. It's like Abraham Lincoln with vampire hunting, right? With less historical revisionism.
Maybe you'll be like a, uh, male cyberpunk Nightingale!
[This is cursed.]
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The idea of being a male cyberpunk Nightingale gets a short laugh out of Sanson though. It's a terrible, cursed idea, but still.]
I doubt I would be able to match Nightingale's...zeal. [Madness Enhancement, more like.] Or inclination towards amputation as a cure-all.
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[The wounds have just healed, but he's afraid he might strain himself. He can still feel the tug of skin and muscle on his face. It doesn't stop him from smiling.]
Maybe, maybe. I guess even you get tired of that, huh?
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Sanson's own smile fades, however, as he finally withdraws the handkerchief.]
Anyone would, if they experienced having to behead at least one person almost every day for years.
[Also known as the French Revolution, when people actually complained of the smell of blood and rotting corpses, and on some days the number of executions left Sanson exhausted.]
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[ Crueler, too. What's it like to live with the guilt, he wonders?
Yan Qing thinks he can take it from here, so as he braces himself for the pain, he attempts to get up. ]
Well, I'll take Dr. Sanson over any other executioner any day! I owe ya one, doc.
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[A shake of the head, followed by a dismissive wave of his hand.]
I was only doing my duty. But you're right...reality has become much stranger lately.
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[Heroic Spirits forget the sins they commit after every summoning. Phantoms like the doppelganger, on the other hand...
He claps Sanson on the shoulder.]
I'll catch ya later, mon ami! Wahahahaha! [Then, as most Assassins are wont to do, he makes a huge leap and slips out of sight.]
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Hopefully we catch each other in better circumstances.
[He watches the other Assassin make the leap and doesn't leave until he has disappeared from sight. Sanson unfortunately doesn't know what "goodbye" or "see ya later" is in Chinese.]