Being pulled from his home and his work out into the late-morning sun, being faced with this bizarre wreck of a man wasn't part of the agreement. Beholding a letter written in blood wasn't part of the agreement (though really, that's the least surprising part of Mitsuhide's arrival; of course the man would write in blood; of course he fucking would). Dealing face-to-face with Mitsuhide wasn't part of the agreement.
Then again, there'd been a substantial part of Daud that doubted any piece of their agreement would garner adherence. And at least the man's here, and not out hounding Xu Shu. With that in mind, Daud thinks he can tolerate this visit. Keep it brief, keep it basic, and get the bastard out of here with clearer instructions for the next letter. Tell him to mail it, or for fuck's sake even send it through one of those blooding-speaking birds he's so fond of.
Leaving the matter of the letter aside for a moment, he looks over Mitsuhide - the paleness, the near-unreadable set of his body - and sighs internally. He should let the bastard stay standing. Only Daud doesn't have any interest in managing a collapsed Mitsuhide, and he doesn't doubt this man would stand and stands and chatter away as if nothing were awry, right up to the point of passing out. ]
no subject
Being pulled from his home and his work out into the late-morning sun, being faced with this bizarre wreck of a man wasn't part of the agreement. Beholding a letter written in blood wasn't part of the agreement (though really, that's the least surprising part of Mitsuhide's arrival; of course the man would write in blood; of course he fucking would). Dealing face-to-face with Mitsuhide wasn't part of the agreement.
Then again, there'd been a substantial part of Daud that doubted any piece of their agreement would garner adherence. And at least the man's here, and not out hounding Xu Shu. With that in mind, Daud thinks he can tolerate this visit. Keep it brief, keep it basic, and get the bastard out of here with clearer instructions for the next letter. Tell him to mail it, or for fuck's sake even send it through one of those blooding-speaking birds he's so fond of.
Leaving the matter of the letter aside for a moment, he looks over Mitsuhide - the paleness, the near-unreadable set of his body - and sighs internally. He should let the bastard stay standing. Only Daud doesn't have any interest in managing a collapsed Mitsuhide, and he doesn't doubt this man would stand and stands and chatter away as if nothing were awry, right up to the point of passing out. ]
Are you bleeding right now.