Tag Archives: rp

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Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito let him have it, then headed back over to the couch, looking under it. Nemea was still there, her fur puffed out and eyes wide. When he tried reaching under, she took a swipe at him, spitting. Okay, leaving her be for now…

He straightened up and sat on the couch. “So, who’s the letter for?” Hakuba was analyzing him earlier, from the look in his eyes, but it was prudent not to comment on that. Detectives seemed to be inclined to do that a lot, anyway, so it’d be redundant.

Hakuba dried his face and hands before anything else, glancing toward Kaito on the couch when he started on his hair. The rough tousling muffled the sounds of the rain, the cat, and Kaito’s question – which he only caught as an after thought. 

“Hm? Oh! The letter… It’s for you, actually." 

He draped the towel around his neck and over his shoulders, reaching into his damp suit jacket for the envelope, crossing the room to approach the other teen. What he pulled out was, indeed, an envelope – but a damp, creased, and somewhat dog-eared one. Still, it was sealed, and he offered it to Kaito. 

"Ah.. sorry about that. It’s from my father. He’s been put in charge of planning another charity event and would like to know if you’d be interested in helping with the entertainment. Details of the event and payment are specified within." 

by

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

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Kaito was now curious. A letter? For who? “I really wasn’t doing anything. It’s not a problem, but you should probably dry yourself off before you catch a cold or something.”

Another boom of thunder pealed, much louder this time. Nemea bounded off the couch and hid under it. “And I’d be an inhospitable host to kick you out to run around outside in this weather. Nobody would even let their dog out in this weather.” (…Shit, his nights working as KID seemed to have started really messing around with his vocabulary.)

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Despite that, Hakuba had to admit that he was impressed by Kaito’s ability to keep up the act, even though he knew that they both knew that the detective knew the truth. It left him feeling just a little bit hurt, but he pushed that away. After all, Kaito was doing what he had to in order to survive, wasn’t he? And Hakuba could understand that. 

Besides, it was far more interesting to observe how Kaito now felt unnatural when compared to his caped alter-ego. The confidence and refinement was still there, but latent. He wondered if this was a conscious decision or if the thief had stolen a far more valuable prize, right under Kaito’s nose…

“I suppose you have a point there…”  Hakuba sniffed, then looked down at himself again, frown returning. “Well, if it’s not too much trouble, I’d very much appreciate the chance to dry off. Thank you, Kuroba-kun.”

The detective removed his shoes first, then socks, and stepped away from the door, reaching out for a towel.

by

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito got up, putting his phone away. Huh, who could be here at a time like this? He opened up the door to a drenched Hakuba. The sight was rather on the surprising and somewhat pathetic side. “Come in.

“Get caught by the rain? …Excuse me for a moment.” Kaito went to get a few towels. One of his detectives getting pneumonia wouldn’t do. He came back, several towels in his arms.

Pathetic, indeed. The normally so well-kept detective stepped in when invited, and made sure that the door was closed against the storm before moving further in. Hakuba stayed at the door, however, dripping, disheveled, and displeased. 

“Ah, thank you… I don’t want to track anything in through your home, I just came to deliver a letter.”  Hakuba inclined his head curiously when Kaito returned with the towels, managing a faint smile of gratitude. “I don’t want to waste too much of your time…”

But he really wanted a towel. Or two. And tea. But he wasn’t about to say that out loud.

by

Thunder

phantom-thief-kid:

Kaito frowned, looking outside. The rain wasn’t really a bad thing, he supposed, but it seemed like it would worsen and quickly at that. His mom was in Hiroshima on a trip, so he had the place to himself. 

Nemea, meanwhile, was curled up on the couch. He sprawled next to her, her only looking up at him for a second and going back to ignoring him. Nothing to do. Still, he could research some gems for the next few heists… He pulled out his phone and punched in a few key words.

Then, abruptly, a knock at the front door.

Hakuba brushed his matted, wet bangs from his face in frustration, huddling as close as he could manage to the door without touching it. The frame and entryway offered some protection from the inclement weather, but the detective was still well on his way to being soaked.

This was well and good for himself, albeit embarrassing,, but would absolutely ruin the envelope and subsequent contents that he carried. 

Thunder rolled overhead, which deepened Hakuba’s frown. He knocked again, much less gentlemanly this time. 

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osakansax:

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The lighter was, perhaps oddly, not quite the trigger that should’ve been lit in his head; rather, its silver glean set but brief sparks in its stead. A clap of thunder, a flash of lightning—light, that illuminated a cross upon the chest. A mumble of muffled words, a white-hot flame—and a feeling that made him sick to his stomach. They were large fragments of a puzzle that was nearly finished, but there was still one piece missing, and the lighter hadn’t led the detective to find it despite.

Still, the rush had left him feeling as if the wind swiftly escaped his breath, and Heiji chose to catch it lest he suffocated himself. His forehead sought the warmth of his hand and thus placed the palm of it gently there whilst he contemplated this still-incomplete storyline.

“… I s’pose it’s done th’ job a bit,” replied the Osakan with some truthful reluctance. “Th…anks, I guess.” 

Gaze averted—though perhaps if he stared at it a little more, that final part would make itself known? No; that would be too much of a wishful thought.

Hakuba hadn’t meant to cause Heiji any discomfort, and the display of such caused him to pause. Clearly, the lighter had triggered something, though the foreign detective wasn’t exactly sure what. Hesitating, Hakuba curled his fingers around the silver object, moving to put it back in its place within his suit jacket.

But then… the thank you. Reluctant or not, there was gratitude and recognition of such. Vulnerability. And that shift of the Osakan’s focus was inviting in a way that startled the halfer, who was only able to stare for a moment. 

“Ah… you’re welcome,” Hakuba managed eventually, blinking in confusion at himself. Expression softening, he smiled – warily, but a smile nonetheless. “Would… it be helpful if I left this with you for the time being?”

Instant regret threatened to flood him at the very idea of it, but Hakuba ignored it. If Hattori wanted it, he would oblige. He wasn’t familiar with this quiet and reasonably calm Osakan, and he wanted to learn more.

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Splash. That was the mental sound of her plans getting thrown out the window into the fountain outside. Oh outside, with its fresh night air without high society fuss and sharp, attractive detectives analyzing her every move. She admitted, he was someone she would not be opposed to spending time with.. The men around her weren’t being very interesting. And the thrill from this game of information exchanging under a veneer of flirting was rather tasty. Jeanne, darling, leave the fun after the job. Even if the job is fun.. especially if the job is fun. 

Yes, the job was fun. But a job still meant work had to be done. And hers was cut out with this calculating detective, who seemed to measure her every move. He was on the job, too. In fact, he was protecting the very painting she planned to steal the next night. And now he’d as much used a pair of cuffs on her with his proposal. The young detective found her suspicious, no question. 

But what if she strengthened that veneer? Why not flirt? The thief could deflect his suspicions if she played a harder flirting game. Granted, she’d look rather interested in him, but would that be so bad? There could be less palatable options.. And I do like my dancing and interesting men.

“I’ve caught your attention, you say? I’m honored,” she said, smiling coyly.

Playfully feigning deep thought at his proposal with her finger placed just under chain, she closed her eyes. When she opened them to look at him, there was a mischievous twinkle in them. 

“Well I suppose I shall have to take responsibility and ask you for a dance. It would be a service to my fellow ladies.” 

Jeanne placed her glass on the empty tray of a passing caterer and held a gloved hand to Hakuba with her eyes still twinkling.

“Shall we?”

With a pull of genuine regret, Hakuba set his own glass of cider on the tray without a single sip for himself. It was a bad idea to drink on the job, but worse to do so when luring a woman. At least, this early on in the game. His being a minor only further complicated things. 

So let go of the alcohol he did, and in turn took Jeanne’s hand with his own, touch gentle, but secure. 

“Of course, my lady." 

Hakuba bowed to her again, this time in a more western, theme-appropriate, and then turned to step out among the other dancers on the ballroom floor.

It was then that, as he moved into position to begin the dance step, that he began to regret wearing the sherlock getup. As flashy as it was for the media, it did add bulk and detracted from his form. A pity, that, when with such a beauty.

…but then, he was on a case. So it didn’t matter anyway. 

He waited until she was close, one of his hands moving for her side, the other keeping her hand, before leaning in to ask, quietly. "Pray tell, miss, how many of these lovely ladies and gentlemen do you know?" 

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Her eyes widened slightly. Detective. He’s so young though? Ahh, probably another police force kid. Just when you think getting a separate body got you away from one detective’s kid, you run into another. And this one is so composed and rather a bit too familiar with this sort of game. A pity about the detective part, he’s cute. Ah well, it’s best not to play the hunting game when I’m hunting for information. Let’s smooth this off.

“You may use my first name to address me,” she said with a smile as she allowed him to kiss her hand. After he had done so, she squeezed lightly, just barely keeping a grip on the hand that had just held hers. She looked up into his eyes with her violet ones as her smile turned up playfully at sandy-haired young man.

“That beautifully explains the outfit. But it doesn’t quite illuminate on  why you’re keeping away from the ‘joys’ of the party as you seem dressed for the occasion under it.”

She gestured with her other hand to the dance floor people seemed to be gravitating towards. 

“I’m sure the ladies would miss you on the dance floor, if your manners say anything about your dancing.”

Jeanne let go of his hand as gently as she had taken hold of it.

“Why don’t you prevent that sad happening now? I’ll even stay to behold such a noble feat.” 

 If he stays, I’ll observe him. Who knows what this young Sherlock has up his sleeve. Regular lasers and traps she could do, but having a sharp detective on her tail would complicate matters. If not, then it’s about time for me to retire shortly for a stroll — for some less high society air and to go over the mapping of the area. 

So much said in such a short interaction thus far. Hakuba looked from her hand to her face and noted her eyes, wondering if violet and mystery went hand in hand. But as alluring as this Jeanne was, she couldn’t possibly compare to one who wore a matching gaze. 

The informality said so much. Jeanne was friendly. Personable. Someone that he would likely select for companionship at a normal benefit or charity event. But here, on the case, everything about her rose red flags. She was observing him, studying him, just as he did of her. Her flattery and words were persuasive, carefully chosen to spur action. 

But he would not fall prey. He would use her first name, with proper honorifics, but would not extend the same courtesy. He would flirt, but only passively. And until he was certain that she was not a threat, he would use her to garner further information from those around them. 

“Alas, miss Jeanne,” Hakuba replied with a mix of amusement and false regret. “While I can, and do, on occasion, dance… I’m not here to entertain. It’s my duty to gather details and protect what my client has asked me to. And, currently, you’ve captured my attention. So the only way that I’ll move to the dance floor is if you accompany me. I’ll leave the choice to you." 

Yes, all professional. Not self-indulgent at all. 

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Raising an eyebrow slightly, she smiled at his answer. Seems like someone isn’t lacking in confidence. After coming closer, Jeanne could see he was dressed for the occasion as well as what under his cap. Or handsomeness. Impressive how he achieves that, while being Sherlock Holmes at a high society social function.

“I’m glad you always enjoy yourself. Life must be endlessly interesting for you,” she teased. “As for your question, my name is Jeanne, Jeanne d’Arc. And I’m sure the pleasure is all mine.”

This is definitely not his first high society function. Not with that manner. And the owner is glancing at him, every so often. And every so often, that expression gets more smug.

“May I inquire as to your name, young Sherlock?”

The tease went ignored, as did most of the lady’s more superfluous words as the detective picked through the dialogue, analyzing her tone, mannerism, and glances. Words were cheap in a place like this; body language told it all. 

Still, he bowed to her, opting for the more traditional Japanese style to keep it brief. When he rose, he reached out his hand for one of hers, if permitted.

“Certainly, Jeanne d’Arc. My name is Saguru Hakuba,” he said, moving to kiss her hand, if obtained, skipping over the formality of his middle name entirely. Then, raising his head, coy smirk in place on his lips, added: “Detective." 

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Yet Another Phantom Thief || closed: whiteknighthakuba

kaitouxjeanne:

Rays of moonlight peeked in through the arched windows of the grand ballroom. One could observe all the flowers, fancy dresses, waiters serving appetizers — all the makings of a grand party. Only one detail made it a special party. At the very end of the room, where a stage platform was set up, was a large painting of an idyllic lake scene. Curtains that had been covering it lay to the side after the revealing. One corner of the curtain was caught on the stand the owner used to reveal the painting. However, only one person had made this observation.

Our lone observer was a beautiful blonde with her long hair in an elegant updo and her slender figure emphasized in a floor-length white dress containing a revealing low back. Amidst her friends and admirers, she sipped her cider and gazed at the owner thoughtfully. 

This demon seems bolder than the usual. Having such a large scale party right before the night I announce the heist will be executed? There aren’t even an abnormal number of guards. 

The owner, a man, in addition to the usual characteristic coldness of the eyes of a possession, was looking awfully smug. 

He’s got something, some sort of trump or safety card. But what?

Jeanne scanned the rest of the room slowly. She saw no extra traps, lasers or the like. Her eyes stopped on a young man clad in what appeared to be from the book, “Sherlock Holmes”. 

Well, well. Who’s this? He’s got a competent feel to him and his eyes have a rather sharp expression for a painting-viewing party. He’s not at all dressed either. I suppose I should find out who this fellow is. Charm on~


The girl pardoned herself from the group and picked up another glass of cider from a passing waiter with a nod of thanks. Smoothly, she made her way over to the young Sherlock. When she got to him, Jeanne held out the cider to him with a smile that had charmed many.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Always,” came the answer, smooth and confident with a hint of amicable amusement in his tone. Hakuba took the cider gently, nodding his thanks, and offered a smile of his own in kind. 

Parties like this were something that he was used to. Indeed, it was rare that he went more than a couple of weeks without being dragged to one high society function or the other, particularly when home in London. Far less usual, but still not rare, was attending such a thing for work. He still wore his formals, but underneath the brown cloak and deerstalker cap which, while he acknowledged the impropriety of it, did make him stand apart from the other black suits and ties present. This is what his employer had wanted and, in truth, what he himself desired.

It was far easier to pick him out of a crowd for the lurking paparazzi that way. 

“And yourself, miss- ah, I don’t believe I caught your name. Who, may I ask, do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

She was beautiful, there was no question about that. Although he was on the case, Hakuba was not about to dismiss his own interest. 

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osakansax:

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“— H… Hold it.”

His mind fails to stop what his lips blurt out. The Osakan’s expression of confusion falters into a pained stumble and he sighs. The inward curses he was roaring at himself… “… Jus’ what exactly do ya mean ‘bout secrets?”

Heiji was bracing for it. Some misguided presumption that he was missing some gaps here and there—or perhaps the blond detective might divert away from the subject and actually leave? That would certainly be some good graces of luck in it for him there. Still, he couldn’t help the curiosity. If KID did believe that Hakuba knew something about this that could help… Well. There could certainly be a roundabout way to go about getting that information, right?

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Hakuba, who had turned to take his leave, reluctantly held his position at the Osakan’s request. At the question, he raised an incredulous brow and turned to glance back over his shoulder, chuckling in amusement. 

“If you’re joking, Hattori-san, it’s not funny,” he answered at first, then let his shoulders sag. “But, ah…”

Was the memory loss legitimate, then? If he’d forgotten, then it ought to stay forgotten. That would make things easier for the foreign detective – much easier. But then, how sincere would his apology stand if Hakuba refused the opportunity to play the part of the Good Samaritan? And more importantly, the foreign detective did not want to see how Kaitou might react. 

Hakuba sighed again. “The secret is what started the entire argument, Hattori-san. I’d prefer not to repeat it, but perhaps this would jog your memory?”

He reached into his suit jacket to dig for the lighter, which he pulled out and held up for the other detective to see.