who can reply: Anyone, otherwise I'll just make it into a solo
Rating: Low.... er, ok perhaps to begin with. Who knows, with Shadow?
He'd left again.
Shadow stood, leaning casually against the side of a building in Jidoor, waiting in the darkness of an alley, eyes scanning the area. Waiting. Shadow had spent a long time waiting.
He'd left again. Not that it mattered much to him. It was always easier to take off than to stay put, especially if there wasn't any money involved. He'd gone as far as joining the rest of the group, meeting with them and then... he'd left, even after claiming that he wanted to help in the big war against the other worlds. He'd claimed such, and maybe believed such after seeing the devastation that the "enemies" could do, after the storm in South Figaro.
The only problem was, whose "enemies" were they? Did he really care all that much to fight some other person's battle? No. He didn't. Not unless there was some damn good payment involved, and he'd gotten none of that. He was tired of the foolish notion that everyone was so ready to save the world. A noble thought, sure, but Shadow wasn't one to care for noble thoughts.
Shadow again decided that he would answer to no one. Syegora, Alcarin, he didn't care anymore which side was which: it was all the same to him.
After a moment of hesitation, indecision, didn't matter how it was described- Shadow had left the preparatory group, his intentions unclear to everyone, even to himself. It was far too easy to sneak away, to take off again on his own.
The first thing he did was to look for Relm, or at least some hint that she was alive and well. Interceptor was still with the girl, who was as lively and happy as ever, and luckily not in harm's way. There was nothing he could say or do, so he left soon after, taking off to find whatever work he could. Now, here he was, waiting. It was like old times.
Jobs were usually easy enough to come by. Shadow always made a point of earning his way honestly... or, at least, as honest as assassination could be. His nightly dreams of the botched train robbery might have been part of what had thrown him off of thievery as a way of life. No, Shadow earned his way, no matter what it took.
Now, waiting for his target to walk past, sitting in the gathering evening darkness, the assassin wondered what in hell he was really doing. He idly held a shuriken in one hand as he watched and waited, watched and waited.
After this job was over, he wasn't sure where he was heading, but he'd have to find a new direction after this was over. He could seek out others, he could let himself be drawn into the war once and for all... It was difficult to say what, but he would soon have to make a choice. One could only leave so many times.