Monthly Archives: August 2013

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5,12,36,39

5: Talk about the best birthday you’ve had.

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“The best birthday… I suppose this is a question of relevant interest, time-wise, as my birthday is next week. Ah, let’s see. I got to drive my car for the first time on my 16th birthday… Ridiculous that I had to wait in the first place, since I bought it outright with my own money, but I suppose parents were never purported to be logical, rational human beings…

"Ah, but no. The best birthday was probably my 5th. My parents were still together then, and took me to Scotland for the weekend so that we could explore castles and – the best part – visit Loch Ness to look for Nessie. We didn’t find her, of course, but my mum and dad humored me the entire time and kept the film rolls readily supplied while I searched for evidence. God, as intolerable as they both are, they can be quite thoughtful sometimes." 

12: Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had.

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"Oh, God, I’ve had so many nightmares in my life… Hm. The worst dream… I think it might be the one in which I went back to London on an ex-lover’s request, reconciled, and then found out that he was working for Father Ramson… God, I’d never…”

36: Talk about your guilty pleasures.

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“Guilty pleasures, hm? Do the scotch and cigarettes count? Actually, I’m going to go with the alcohol. I take great pride and pleasure in persuading bartenders to serve me as their customer, even though I’m underage. I know it’s wrong and it’s a little bit cruel, too… Most of them know by now that I’m affiliated with the police force, and yet… Aha, I sometimes go into it thinking of it as my own little ‘heist’ of sorts. Shameful, isn’t it?” 

39: Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier.

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"Oh, so many things. The older I get and the more that I learn, the more I realize just how much I don’t know. Ah, I wish that I’d known that I’d be falling for my quarry, because then I would have planned my career and education goals out a little better.

"As it is, I have no idea when I’m going back to London at this point. Some days I want to toss my hands up and leave straight away. Other days, I consider trying to make it work here in Japan… find a good university, ignore the nationalistic attitude, and come to accept a less than stellar pay grade and rank despite my exemplary work. 

"I really don’t know how it’s going to turn out, but it’s left me in a precarious position. I have the rest of high school to consider, as well as my bachelor’s and master’s degrees to earn, which I’d hoped to do back home. Cambridge and Oxford. A paid internship with Scotland Yard. And here I am, going to some nothing public high school in Ekoda, Japan, chasing after a thief that may or may not feel anything for me but contempt.  

"…All right, that was a little unfair, I know. But I still wonder what I’m doing with my life. I suppose I wish I’d known that it was going to be so complicated so that I could have tried to prepare for it more adequately.”

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osakansax:

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“…”

Sazerac had been in the area for business purposes. That restlessness he sought to be rid of had come useful as it was when going about his profession; a healthy dosage of paranoia for one with a more or less undercover role, but certainly too much for a teen. The Osakan did offer a hand at the very least, or a shoulder to be leaned upon, or what-have-you. Nevertheless he wasn’t used to it, if his tautness upon contact was any indication. ”I should hope that, whatever it was, your intent wasn’t on following me…”

Clothing was relatively semi-formal, erring more on the casual than formal, but he had nothing to hide—well, save his tools of the trade, though the only sharp glints would come from his gaze alone. The flavor of tonight’s murder weapon was that slackened noose around his neck; a gaudy set of old mauve and antique white stripes that saw nights worse than this and was ready to be tossed into the fire. The Kansai agent was relatively confident of his hiding it—he had to be, of course, such expertise called for that brazen confidence—but surely it wouldn’t escape the meticulous hawk eyes of any detective worth their gluttonous salt. “This way, then.”

No sign of a strangled corpse as he did what was told and made a beeline for the way out in leisurely haste. His work was done elsewhere, perhaps some yards away in another room or another building, but either way it’d been close enough that he’d heard the the bang and tumble of something heavy falling down the stairs.

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Fortunately for Janus, Hakuba was somewhat distracted by the pounding in his head. Having been disarmed in this way, and by that glorious voice – which seemed to be the only thing to take the edge off the pain – the detective wasn’t even thinking about things in terms of suspicion and detail.

At least, until Janus mentioned following him. 

The half-brit, leaned awkwardly against the Osakan, paused and lifted his head to look at the other’s face, brows raising in a sort of cautious and curious quizzical expression. 

“No…” Hakuba said, shaking his head with another grimace. “I wasn’t following you. Should I have been?" 

He wanted to look Janus over. Pick out the details, compare notes, riddle out what he might have been doing out here. But his vision doubled and got progressively worse the longer he stood. To that effect, he shuddered and grasped his arms around the other man to prevent himself from stumbling. 

"Gnn… maybe I do need a moment… just, need to clear my head. My apologies. All of them.”

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Omfg “talk about” is a lot cuter than ask me

1: Talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie.
2: Talk about your first kiss.
3: Talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for.
4: Talk about the thing you regret most so far.
5: Talk about the best birthday you’ve had.
6: Talk about the worst birthday you’ve had.
7: Talk about your biggest insecurity.
8: Talk about the thing you are most proud of.
9: Talk about little things on your body that you like the most.
10: Talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had.
11: Talk about the best dream you’ve ever had.
12: Talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had.
13: Talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time.
14: Talk about a vacation.
15: Talk about the time you were most content in life.
16: Talk about the best party you’ve ever been to.
17: Talk about someone you want to be friends with.
18: Talk about something that happened in elementary school.
19: Talk about something that happened in middle school.
20: Talk about something that happened in high school.
21: Talk about a time you had to turn someone down.
22: Talk about your worst fear.
23: Talk about a time someone turned you down.
24: Talk about something someone told you that meant a lot.
25: Talk about an ex-best friend.
26: Talk about things you do when you’re sick.
27: Talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body.
28: Talk about your fetishes.
29: Talk about what turns you on.
30: Talk about what turns you off.
31: Talk about what you think death is like.
32: Talk about a place you remember from your childhood.
33: Talk about what you do when you are sad.
34: Talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured.
35: Talk about things you wish you could stop doing.
36: Talk about your guilty pleasures.
37: Talk about someone you thought you were in love with.
38: Talk about songs that remind you of certain people.
39: Talk about things you wish you’d known earlier.
40: Talk about the end of something in your life.

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((Eclairs + plotting happy things + discussing dreams with wonderful people + Ouran High School Host Club = a happy Hakubby! What a good Friday night, even though we are so, so, SO far behind on replies… all of the gomens from muse and mun – we’ll keep at it!)) 

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osakansax:

“…If you say so.”

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Bladed gaze hovered back to the phone with a grimace of realization. He slipped it back into his pocket and glanced about, nerves stopping cold as his tongue refused to form that intoned syllabic language—an ambulance wouldn’t help if they couldn’t understand a lick of English. He’d have to assist the halfer to the nearest hospital and hope someone there would be able to help. “Get up. The nearest hospital is going to be a healthy walk away from this place.”

The agent liked to secretly pride himself on keeping that buffoon-ish visage on his face when it was needed, but when the time came to let that cold mask slide onto his face—the one most members of this ebon wolf pack seemed to carry—he would let it without hesitation. This time around was no different, even if he’d drawn the life that was asked of him.

Ah, so it was Janus. The terse orders made that abundantly clear. Hakuba pulled the handkerchief away only to grimace, reapplying it to the bleeding wound which, really, seemed only superficial. As he moved to stand, using the wall and whatever Janus was willing to offer for support, Hakuba realized that the real pain was at the back of his head.

He looked at the stairs, remembering, vaguely, the surprise of banging his head against the overhang. He must have fallen back after that and hit his head against the step. The detective frowned. He could have broken his neck that way, and for what? Exploring the sights?  No- surely, he’d had another motive for coming here… But what was it?

"Thank you,” Hakuba offered lamely, lifting his other hand to the back of his head with a grimace. “I’m certain that I’ll be all right after a brief rest is all…”  No, that wasn’t right. He shook his head, brows furrowed. “There was something that I needed to do… No, this is ridiculous. Please, if you could lead the way, I’d appreciate it so much, Janus."