I have a post in my drafts that I keep trying to delete and nothing I do will get rid of it. I can’t even post it. The little gear just does NOTHING.
Why is this draft forever here? Why???
Monthly Archives: November 2014
Alice was used to strange things happening in her life,but she never expected she would end up in being a suspect in a murder case.
It all stared when she sensed an ominous presence in an old temple. She went to investigate it out of curiosity and found at least five violent ghosts. All of the ghost were murdered in same way. She decided to inform the police about the bodies. she never expect them to track her down and arrest her.
She sat in the interrogation room with the detective who arrested her. They have been asking her all sort of questions and she remained silence. Her Japanese was crappy but she was able to tell that the detective was getting frustrated with her.
” Tell me the truth” The detective asked her in heavily accented English but she didn’t reply. There was no use telling him the truth.He wouldn’t believe her anyway. She was so sure they had nothing solid against her so she decided to wait for her release. The detective mumbled something to his partner about calling for help of a high school detective or something. Did she hear that right ? or was her Japanese really that bad ?
Fortunately for the hapless girl, she was absolutely correct. Also fortunate was the fact that said teenager was in the station at that very moment. True, he was just dropping off reports on his way to rummage through the cold case files again to stave off post-exam boredom, but Hakuba found that those moments were invaluable for networking. There was always some sort of problem that could he shoved off on him by the senior officers, and the blond was happy to help.
…mostly because it let him show his superiority through action, proving that he belonged just as much as any of the rest of them, nepotism be damned. So he didn’t have his degree yet, let alone the full academy training. It was only a matter of time, and he had proved his salt again and again through the cases he’d solved. Still, there was no end of satisfaction when they crawled to him for help, and likewise no end of frustration when they forgot all about it moments later.
He wondered what the result would be for the particular case that he was approached with just as he was getting the filing cabinet open in the cold archive room.
“Come on, Hakuba-kun…” The officer pleaded with no disguise for his reluctance. “We need you to translate.”
There was a period of 4.332 seconds in which Hakuba bit his lip, considering the option to torture the policeman, but in the end he decided that it wasn’t worth it. Clearly, having to ask him had been torture enough. So the half-brit put on a polite smile and closed the filing drawer with a satisfying click. “Fine, fine, lead the way.”
Unfortunately, there wasn’t really time to read over the file that was thrust into his hands on the way, but Hakuba did his best to at least glance over it. At the door to the interrogation room, he adjusted his tie, nodded to the other officer, and stepped in with a much more charming grin, stepping over to the girl with an extended hand.
“Good afternoon,” the teenager said in English with a cheerful British accent. “My name is Detective Hakuba. Apologies for the confusion; I’d be happy to assist in getting your statements. Would you like some water or anything like that before I get started?”
Quiet Me [Lashing out] //lol lets see how this goes
Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]
“You HAVE to back down!”
The detective yelled, uncertain how he was going to contain him, culprit or whatever he was, from doing any more harm. There wasn’t enough evidence to convict, but if Hakuba didn’t get control of Saphir soon, there would be no choice but to use lethal force…. and he could already hear the sirens approaching. How had he even got into this mess?
There wasn’t much that he could do but try to throw his arms around the other, hoping, praying, that he could get him to stop the assault. Nevermind that this was incredibly dangerous, the detective, foolishly or not, believed that this was the best way to calm what he believed to be an emotional outburst.
Whisper~
It really wasn’t proving to be a good night so far for Devin.
He tried to console himself by pointing out that things could have gone far, far worse. His thoughts weren’t wandering into that familiar numbness which never ended well, and he’d been able to snag some wine with relative ease, considering he didn’t really belong in this sort of high-class gathering. He supposed that it was common enough for teens at this sort of thing, though Devin didn’t really know.
No, that wasn’t the part that had Devin testing his theory that nobody cared how drunk he got and snaking wine glasses all evening. That would be the fact that, even though he and Hakuba had arrived together, the detective had been spending the evening flirting with several women. Fairly attractive women too, if Devin was any judge.
Devin kept emptying wine glasses, hoping that eventually he’d come to his senses and forget the reasons why Hakuba would even pay attention to him. And remind himself that he really should ignore his crush on his straight best friend.
That’s what he was telling himself when he was leaning against a marble column, draining yet another wine glass, as Devin watched Hakuba slip out of sight with a giggling girl following right behind him. “You’re perfect,” he whispered. “So much better than that.”
Quiet Me (from crying) //｡◕‿◕｡ immacurious
Leave a “Quiet Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character trying to calm yours down [be it from crying, from lashing out, feel free to specify.]
“Hey, hey… it’s all right,” Hakuba said, offering what he thought was a charming, crooked smile to the other detective. It had been a very, very long night, and the two had worked together on the case for three days straight with so very little rest. Despite having caught the kidnapper, they hadn’t managed to get the victim out completely unscathed, but she would be all right. With time. Even so, he could understand why she’d suddenly burst into tears as the ambulance pulled away.
The male sighed, lips pursing as the crying didn’t cease, and attempted to casually put his arm around her shoulders. “Chin up, detective! We caught the culprit… things will turn out fine. Really. We did the best we could, and we did a fine job… hush, hush.”
Haunt me.
Leave a “Haunt Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character watching over yours[as a ghost, watching from a distance, or otherwise, feel free to specify.]
It was highly unlikely, Hakuba thought, that anyone knew that he was still around. But so many things had become clear to him now that he was dead that the once-detective was not, in any way, surprised. He hadn’t been a fool to believe in ghosts while he’d lived, and now, trapped in this miserable existence, he only wished he could tell them how wrong they had been.
Not that it would have mattered. It certainly didn’t for Janus, he thought, observing the killer’s actions day-to-day, lurking from whatever shadows he found most comfortable. The man lived like he’d been haunted all his life, why would adding another spectral spectator be any different at all? It wasn’t as if Hakuba could talk to the others, anyway… so many spirits, drifting uselessly behind the Osakan, trailing after what tastes of energy they could scrounge up, latently trying to survive.
That’s really all that they did… survive. No one had enjoyed being killed, but the damned assassin had been so good that most, Hakuba thought, hadn’t even known it was coming. Hadn’t even had enough time to be upset at being murdered, much less at whoever had done it.
He, though… he knew exactly who had done it, though the reason still baffled him. Hadn’t they been in love? That’s what the other had said, anyway. That’s what he’d thought that ring had meant. But all of those promises meant nothing once his own blood had been washed down the drain, hadn’t it?
Miserable… they were both miserable, caught in a constant spiral of hate and regret. Hate for themselves, hate for others. Regret for what they’d done, regret for what they hadn’t. Did it even matter? Had it all been pointless?
Some days he thought of nothing but revenge… trying to cause his former lover pain. Perhaps, if he had, it would somehow make up for ending his life. But no… no, it really was useless. Janus was nothing but pain already, and even though he hated him with every immaterial piece of his being, he knew that, deep down, he should have seen it coming… that he’d known it would happen…
…and that he loved him, still, anyway.
Break me
Leave a “Break Me” in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.
Hakuba hefted a sigh, chin supported by his hand, elbow on the window ledge. Emi was gone. They’d done everything to save her. Everything. Risking life and limb to rescue her, tapping out all of their resources and contacts, exhausting every avenue, but they’d been too late. She was dead. Completely, utterly, inescapably lifeless and broken.
It was hard for the detective, trying to hold back the tears and the emotions that broiled in his heart, but he had to. Akira was left having to deal with that silence, now, and though he didn’t entirely understand all of the complicated implications of this, he knew that she was hurting. He could feel that much. It was why he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. God, it hurt.
It hurt, it hurt, and he wondered if his heart would ever mend. He wondered if he even wanted it to. How could someone like her integrate herself into their lives only to leave? Did she know that it would tear through them with such violence? That it would do so much damage?
He put his arm around Akira, pulling her close in an attempt to quell those little choking sobs that she was trying so hard to hold in. They still had a lot of work to do. So much to hide. So much to talk about and sort through and deal with, but neither of them wanted to move. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It’s not as though any of them were particularly new to death, even, but… but the pain had never been this personal, this fresh before.
It didn’t feel real.
When she responded to his touch, curling into him instead of away, Hakuba turned to her, too. He wrapped his other arm around her and rested his chin on the top of her head, like he always did with Emi, eyes closing to shut out the sterile hallway in front of the coroner’s office.
“…what are we going to do?” he asked, voice breaking through his hoarse whisper.
Get Me
Leave a “Get Me” in my ask, and I will write a drabble about my character saving yours.
“No, really, he didn’t mean it like that at all, m’am.” Hakuba patted the Osakan’s back with a pleasant – if not completely smug – smile, head tilting in an effort to appear even more harmless and charming. “My associate here is just… well, a little bit… how to say it… Hot-blooded?"
He knew that Heiji was fuming and probably only barely holding back a string of curses and insults, but that hardly mattered at the moment. It was far too important to save his ass, and far too amusing to get him into his debt in this way, so he wasn’t about to waste the opportunity. Not in a situation like this, where the offended party just happened to be a fan of the half-british detective. Ah, sweet revenge.
"At any rate, it was a simple misunderstanding, and he’s very sorry… aren’t you, Hattori-kun?"
Offer me
Leave a “Offer Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about my character giving yours a gift.
It wasn’t much, but Hakuba found that Occam’s Razor was often just as applicable to gifts as it was to everything else, so he didn’t feel too worried about it as he set the basket down on the step on front of the bakery. He knew that the baker in question wouldn’t be around for another half hour at least, early as it was, but he hoped that she would find it before anyone else did.
Tulips, a thank-you card, and a tiny stuffed rabbit were nestled in quite comfortably in the tissue paper, only the flowers peeking out of the top. He didn’t dare give her anything edible, not when her own confections were quite simply the best around, but the rest was something she might enjoy.
Mischief managed, the detective snuck off back toward his car, enjoying the pre-dawn light with a crooked smile.
“W-well, you’re pretty handsome, yourself.” She stammered, looking at the detective with a sudden blush on her cheeks. “I could say the same for you.”
“This pleases me a great deal to hear, Mouri-chan… thank you very much."