Dirk doesn't flinch. He doesn't curse. Internally or otherwise. He didn't plan for this, explicitly. At no point in the hundreds of hours he has spent knowing Ranboo, or being in danger for Ranboo, has he played this scenario out in his head. He hasn't scripted it, imagined it, or even fantasised about it.
Instead, he's planned, prepared, and plotted everything else around it. What little he hadn't established for his own security ahead of time, he set up--physically and mentally--before releasing Ranboo from his captivity on Dirk's bed, with only minor adjustments since then.
And now that it's here, he doesn't experience an oh, fuck moment. The only thing on his mind is which neighbours' security cameras actually caught him--his first instinct being to try and catch this woman in a lie.
Even as it occurs to him, he realises he has no chance. Ranboo did walk his way back up to Dirk's door after he ran out that one time, and Dirk did let him in. Even if he wasn't in visible camera range, the microphones that come attached to some cameras have some fucking range. Dirk can't jam them all the time. And even if he tried to catch her out, there's always the possibility of neighbours with cameras that he doesn't know about. So just as soon as that method is thought of, it's immediately discarded.
He hates that he doesn't know how much Ranboo can hear from their hiding place. That makes Ranboo the wild card now.
As for him?
Dirk has, on multiple levels, spent his entire life in preparation for this. In fact, more time was spent on preparing for what he's about to do than how to talk his way out of it.
What he does is this: he grabs the woman by the front of her insurance-adjustor bank-employee pantsuit and pulls her forward into him, where he claps his hand over her mouth and yanks her inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
No sooner has he slammed the door shut with his leg and hip than he's let go of her shirt and seized the katana hanging on the waall behind him. It's so fast, so practised and smooth, that he does it practically in between breaths. Hooking a leg inside of her knee, he trips her to the ground, and--letting her face go--grips the katana in both hands to decapitate her.
It's done in a single stroke; he puts every ounce of strength in his body behind the blow, and as a result, the sword comes down so hard that it embeds in the linoleum, and whatever else is under there. Presumably not concrete. But so focused is he on what he's doing that he barely acknowledges anything else happening from her or anything else, except to correct his swing.
no subject
Instead, he's planned, prepared, and plotted everything else around it. What little he hadn't established for his own security ahead of time, he set up--physically and mentally--before releasing Ranboo from his captivity on Dirk's bed, with only minor adjustments since then.
And now that it's here, he doesn't experience an oh, fuck moment. The only thing on his mind is which neighbours' security cameras actually caught him--his first instinct being to try and catch this woman in a lie.
Even as it occurs to him, he realises he has no chance. Ranboo did walk his way back up to Dirk's door after he ran out that one time, and Dirk did let him in. Even if he wasn't in visible camera range, the microphones that come attached to some cameras have some fucking range. Dirk can't jam them all the time. And even if he tried to catch her out, there's always the possibility of neighbours with cameras that he doesn't know about. So just as soon as that method is thought of, it's immediately discarded.
He hates that he doesn't know how much Ranboo can hear from their hiding place. That makes Ranboo the wild card now.
As for him?
Dirk has, on multiple levels, spent his entire life in preparation for this. In fact, more time was spent on preparing for what he's about to do than how to talk his way out of it.
What he does is this: he grabs the woman by the front of her insurance-adjustor bank-employee pantsuit and pulls her forward into him, where he claps his hand over her mouth and yanks her inside, slamming the door shut behind him.
No sooner has he slammed the door shut with his leg and hip than he's let go of her shirt and seized the katana hanging on the waall behind him. It's so fast, so practised and smooth, that he does it practically in between breaths. Hooking a leg inside of her knee, he trips her to the ground, and--letting her face go--grips the katana in both hands to decapitate her.
It's done in a single stroke; he puts every ounce of strength in his body behind the blow, and as a result, the sword comes down so hard that it embeds in the linoleum, and whatever else is under there. Presumably not concrete. But so focused is he on what he's doing that he barely acknowledges anything else happening from her or anything else, except to correct his swing.
And then, suddenly, it's over.