by

Autumn Afternoons

koizumiakako:

image

“Not at all. Please,” she answered, gently patting the space to her left and sliding her bag out of the way. She carried it mostly because it was cute, but it was actually rather handy for holding her pencils. Much easier than explaining how she carried all of her items without a backpack. People had grown far too nosy for their own good.

In actuality, Hakuba had surprised her by being the first to initiate contact after their little… squabble. He was generally just as stubborn as she though perhaps he was changing in more ways than she had anticipated. She kind of liked the idea of that. It made it easier on her.

The detective nodded his thanks, then settled down next to her. Well, he was careful to leave at least fifteen inches between them, but that was close enough. Shifting his schoolbag into his lap, he kept his eyes on the contents while he rummaged, which made it easier for him to speak.

Only he couldn’t think of what to say. 

What could he say to her? Why had he thought it a good idea to approach her in the first place? Finally on decent terms, with at least a couple of pleasant interactions between them since their last fight… why was he daring to meddle with that?

“Are your studies going well?” The question, blurted out, was as generic and unsatisfying as it could possibly be – with the exception of discussing the weather, perhaps, but with a witch as the conversation partner even that might have been interesting.

by

A Tale of Rifles and Silver Bullets

okiya-subaru:

image

“…Hospital. May I ask why you’re asking me that?” He scratched an ear with a wing. If it was what he thought it was, then that could be useful. Wouldn’t have to go out attacking people, at least…

“I’d like to provide you with a ready supply in order to keep you from repeating your earlier faux pas. It could come in handy for myself, as well, depending…” He pulled the ice pack from his neck and set it aside, adjusting the collar of his dress shirt in an attempt to hide the bandage.

Said attempt was unsuccessful, so he turned his efforts to loosening his tie. "How long was it between your being bitten and having turned? All that I feel thus far is light-headed.“

by

Moan~

notallcatsaregood:

Three: Your muse owns mine for two days

“…Huh. Well. This ought to be interesting.” Smirk stretching across his lips, Sylwen tilted his head and winked, playfully holding up both of his hands. “You aren’t going to try turning me in to the police, are you? That would be such a waste of an opportunity, when there are such more interesting things we could do. I’m just saying~”

The detective considered for a moment, brow raising. 

“I’m certain that you’re right, but I’ll let you work on those implications a bit while I decide on my next step. I’m loathe to turn someone as interesting as you over to the police right away, regardless… not before I’ve been able to uncover your motive and moral character. I should like to build a profile.”

Thus, he gestured to one of the arm chairs in front of the fireplace, and withdrew the little black book from inside of his suit jacket’s pocket, followed by a pen. 

“I must confess that I’ve never owned a cat before; I think this would be a good opportunity to learn. Once you’ve properly settled there,” he said, cautiously moving to sit in the other chair, “I’d like you to tell me about yourself.”

by

+whiteknighthakuba

notallcatsaregood:

The thief kept moving, ears perked for any sign of movement from the neighboring rooms as he scanned the area. Hm. Looked like he’d entered one of the guest rooms. Clean. Tidy. Barely used, from what he could tell. And no valuables anywhere in sight.

Well. That was fine. He had the rest of the place to check out, after all, and plenty of time to do so.

Grin stretching wider as the familiar excitement of sneaking through someone’s home and trying not to get caught washed through him, he silently pushed the door open and peered out into the hall – only to freeze, body going perfectly still as his gaze locked onto one of the residents’ moving form.

Perhaps he’d been wrong.

It seemed not everyone was asleep, after all.

Unlike the other detectives in his circle, Hakuba did not possess some unearthly talent that allowed him to be ten or fifteen steps ahead of whatever perpetrator he happened to come across. However, as paranoid as he often was, he did have the sense to listen to his investigator’s instinct when something felt… off. 

Hakuba tilted his head, noting the vague shape of the side of the door in the dark. He slowed to a stop and studied it.  All doors were shut as part of the nightly rounds, yet this had been opened.  Its surface was not flat with the others and thus, was wrong. Someone had been about, and in one of the guest rooms, no less. 

The detective sighed. He had no weapons on him, no means of defense. The baseball bat was by the front door. The crowbar in his room. His gun in the lockbox under the window seat. Everything else was ornamental or hidden in the very secure bedroom of his father. 

“If you’re here,” he said quietly. “and not my special guest, I’m going to ask you, politely, to leave. There’s nothing here worth stealing, and if the breach alarm is tripped, it’ll bring the whole police force here startlingly fast." 

Then he waited, listening. Wondering, in the back of his mind, if he was yet again speaking to no one. It was an occurrence that happened more often than he’d like to admit.