(there are always those who will live in the shadows that the sun casts. manjiro sano, age 28, is one of those people. a visitor who lives in a neighboring town, one not as nice and as cheery as this one. it's a business venture he is looking for - this pristine town feels too immaculate for him not to exploit or devise its cracks.
for the first day, he walks unattended, a moment of tranquility and independence as his tired eyes take in the view of this place - the laugher fills the air and it nearly echoes in his brain, and he most likely has never seen a fairy before this place ever so gracefully offered him the experience. issue is, he's not fond of the stunts, or to be more transparent, manjiro's not fond of most things. the white of his hair attracts one that wants to employ the strands as a hiding spot after their shenanigans, which the man didn't quite enjoy. it's too effortless to hold them in a palm, and easier it is to close it. the remains are dumped behind him, his hand shaking to relieve it of the excess blood.
(the casino, while unexpected to him at first, it's where manjiro sets roots. perhaps, it's fair to say that the house always wins as long as he is around. extortion and blackmail bring an extra layer of reassurance that it will go as expected, his cut will be sitting on his desk by the end of the night. the house now cheats with loaded dice, false dealing of cards, machines that had been rigged and as a bonus, thanks to some men manjiro has hidden within the staff. on the tables, baggies with pills can be seen before they are discretely hidden, distributed as samples here and there for those who would like a taste.
if someone shows a good amount of money and achieves a level of trust of the staff that is definitely not from the casino, they will take them to the back, where manjiro sano counts the bills and coins that he has made this evening. the gun is held by him either way, regardless of how his hand comes and goes between writing and organizing the stacks.)
Quick, I'm busy. What do you want?
𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝
(you know what to do! if there is interest, i'll amp the crime lord plot and leave things for characters to play detective. find me at #sunshineinpockets or fullofsunshine!)
[Good amount of money, shows a level of trust-- or is a dumb enough asshole to bitch loud enough at one of Mikey's Muscle men, getting him dragged back behind the scenes. But it's not like Shinjiro's gonna keep quiet. Sure, he'd gotten some of the supply-- and had been bored enough to figure what the hell and give it.
But he'd choked trying to dry swallow the fucking pills, ended up vomiting, all the while with fucking scenes playing through his head: Chest pains, struggling to breathe, a massive pounding searing pain splitting across his head, soothed with the feeling of hard oblong tablets down his throat. The steely glint of a gun, the threat of going without. None of them have context, none of it means anything-- And then when he'd finally shaken himself out of it, trembling and lost and confused-- they were all fucking gone, anyway.]
Your shit's fucked, you know. [He spits the words as he's dragged in, despite the large man grabbing his arm like a vice to make sure he doesn't pull anything or keep causing further trouble in front of the boss.]
(his gaze is empty, almost as if his life has been taken away from them. his eyebags are so dark that they seem virtually black, a striking contrast with the white hair that surrounds his frail face. his eyebrow lifts, but the expression doesn't shift - it's hollow, the gun moving as his hands do to punctuate his own words.)
What the fuck do you mean?
(it's clean, his pills are refined and there is no adding of anything in them. the purer they are, the more faithful clients, the better for business.)
[Damn, this is their boss? or local boss? Dude looks like a corpse. Shinjiro stops for a moment, looking over him as though trying to decide how he feels about him-- from the relaxed, apathetic demeanor, to the casual motions of the gun. Nothing threatening (yet) but with all the potential to.
A curse, and he pulls his arm out of the guy's grip. (Likely, the guy just lets him. There's no way an unarmed, dumbass punk is a threat, after all.)]
What I said. Your shits fucked.
[Meaningful. But still, after a moment of settling his nerves, deciding that he's not about to get killed and thrown in a ditch:]
You might wanna look into your supply. Got sick as fuck and started having some-- [A frown, and he lifts a hand to gesture at his head.] Weird shit happen. Is that supposed to happen? 'Cause I ain't had trouble with anything before now.
(it's not uncommon, after all. bad trips, nausea, panic, paranoia. he knows it all too well, experienced, seen it, but before shinjiro can utter another sound, he sets one of the pills he's been distributing on the table. shinjiro is not a threat to anything other than manjiro's patience, and he doesn't feel like arguing back and forth with a child - probably took it wrong, so shall they put it to a test?
a loud BANG! echoes the room, unsettles some of the bills that were on top of the stacks, but the bullet wasn't aimed at shinjiro, just next to his foot. a warning shot, as to reinforce the motion of his spare hand's index finger tapping next to the pill.)
[Blam. The ear-shattering explosion of the gun discharging makes his eyes water and his ears ring, one hand moving to his midsection. The pain takes a moment to set in, but it's sharp like a burn. Delayed, but rapidly intensifying, and blood--
Except he's fine.
His vision come back into focus and his knees had given out, probably looking every bit of the crazed junky profile. One hand is at his stomach, as though he'd been shot (he hasn't-- though there's a brand new hole in the floorboards right at his foot), and he looks slightly lost as his mind returns to what's real, what's right in front of him.
...real?
Heart pounding, he tries to ignore that. Look, he's fine. He just came here to give the guy a heads up about his stock, and maybe get his cash back. Which requires getting his tongue to work in his dry mouth to answer the question he's been asked.]
Like-- like that just now. [A swallow, a shake of the head, and he'll work on trying to articulate it better.] I've had shit that makes you hallucinate before, alright? This wasn't that. I just figured you should know in case other people get the same shit happening.
(he had his eyes on the boy a second ago - he was not high, not that manjiro can tell, at least, but then suddenly, he looked-- well, like the zombies hiding in the alleys where he crawled out from.
can't blame that on manjiro, he doesn't think. he's allowing the freak out and explanation go on thus far, but his patience is running kind of thin already. don't put your blame on him without proof, so again, he taps the pill that he placed.)
[He has to bite back to urge to snarl that he's not a dog here to do some tricks-- But there's a splintered hole in the wood right at his feet, and since this guy's already got to replace a floorboard or two with it, he's sure he wouldn't care about getting some blood stains on it, too.
So instead he gives an aggravated noise, and moves to pick up the pill they're arguing over. He'll still keep that unflinching eye contact with the guy's dead stare, though.]
Guess I should be thanking you for the free merch, right?
[He can't help but slide in at least one shitty comment-- hopefully one less likely to get him shot since he's doing what the guy says. He'll bring the pill to his mouth and scarf it like a pro--
Or at least he would have, if the feeling of dry tablet hitting the back of his tongue hadn't keyed in that feeling again. He coughs it onto the floor, again getting that weird, glazed look for a moment.
A girl in sterile pale green and red, pressing the pills into her mouth. It's not gentle, she's making choking noises in the vision just like he did in reality. For a moment her eyes go wide--
And again it's over as quick as it happened, and Shinjiro slowly brings a hand up to his head, stumbling backwards.
Maybe he's losing it. He'd honestly think that, except for how that pill he'd choked on had just straight disappeared from where it had fallen on the floor between them.]
(definitely wouldn't. manjiro's watching each and every move, his attention making his gaze even more piercing.
and then that face happens again. there's very little attention to the boy's freak out, aside from the fact that manjiro shoots a look towards the men behind shinjiro to get their pieces ready, this could be a trap. while their eyes are on the boy, manjiro's eyes are on the pill, and then, just like that, it was no longer.)
... No, that wasn't supposed to happen. It doesn't.
[ Claude had been familiar with Manjiro long before he set his sights on Aldrip, his own trips having taken him to Manjiro's territory over and over again. The only difference between then and now is that then, Claude had been on the straight and narrow, shaking his head at the presence of ne'er-do-wells from abroad, wondering why his father had such frequent dealings with that town.
Now, some of the veil has been lifted from his eyes; he's more familiar now with the little corruptions of the rich, the fickleness with which they'll turn on someone, and he's found himself on the other side. He's not one of Manjiro's men. Far from it. But he will offer information from time to time, for the right price, against the right people, and he knows Manjiro well as one of his regulars by now.
As he sees a familiar blond head settle in at the end of the night, Manjiro will find a glass filled with strong amber liquid and a large, square ice cube set in front of him, Claude's shoulder brushing against his as he sets it down. ]
Here you are, boss. [ He winks. There's no heat to it. Claude has prided himself on being a safe place to fall for more than just Manjiro, and he knows how to keep it light and breezy. ] On the house.
(oh, his tiny little crush. perhaps the one reason why manjiro brought himself to work here, to be in this boring ass town, is to be around claude just for a day or two before he goes back to the hole he came from. it's a rare occasion, after all, and he notices just how the drink is made for his liking. it's great, just as is the company.)
Of course I do! How else can I convince you to stick around for more than a day? [ Claude says, giving Manjiro a quick wink. Manjiro... well, he's bad news, isn't he? But so is Claude, these days, and so long as it's only the bastards that are receiving the repercussions, he can't say that he minds much. ]
Not many people come to visit this place, you know. You're one of the few. Maybe when you're in the mood for it, you can regale me with a story or two before you have to get back on the road.
(to feel alive is a luxury he doesn't often indulge in. a lot within manjiro has died over the years, the brightness in his smile, the childish laughter and the burning desire to stand tall and rule. he's turned cold, ruthless, tired, although with claude, he remembers how smiling feels on his lips.
he takes a sip, setting his head almost demandingly against the other's shoulder.)
[ It feels like a rare treasure, to have Manjiro rest his head against his shoulder like this. He's underneath no illusions about the sort of person he is. It makes this a little scary, a little exciting; for all his reputation, sometimes Claude still feels like a lost little rich boy, sheltered and inexperienced, unused to the ways of the world. Manjiro is... something else.
But even if Manjiro's the dangerous one, he's trusting Claude enough to be at ease, just for a moment. How did that happen? ]
Anything and everything. I want to hear about the world outside of this place. The exciting things you've seen. Maybe... [ His brow creases. ] Something good.
[ No point dwelling on sadness. Drink and bad memories are a bad combination. ]
(he has no answer to the question claude poses in his mind. what he does know is that the warmth against his cheek is nice, and he can close his eyes for a second here to just be, just relax his sight for a little while before he takes another sip.
yet, unmoving from the contact.
and then, claude asks something good. something exciting. there has been decades since manjiro felt that one, but there's one thing that makes him happy lately.
so, he reaches for his pocket, turning so that claude can't see it, and sticks a taiyaki carefully between the man's lips so he can try.)
Candy? [ Claude flings his head back and lets out a bright laugh, almost more of a giggle, Mikey's chosen perch made unstable as his shoulders wobble in mirth. ] That's not much of a story, boss!
[ His words are garbled through a mouthful of taiyaki, so he does at least take a moment to chew and swallow a bitw. It's pretty sweet, to be fair. It just isn't anything like what he could have expected to be regaled with. He thought at least there would be, oh, he doesn't know... some tale of some real asshole getting what he deserves? A beautiful sunrise? Some money? ]
If I'd known you had such a sweet tooth, I would have mixed you up something better to drink. [ He takes the piece he didn't eat, then pops it into Manjiro's mouth for him with a smile. ] Don't let me hog all your joy.
(there's not enough laughter these days that it surprises him a little, and it makes the slightest smile bloom on the corners of his lips. if having manjiro feel safe enough to rest, imagine having him feel safe enough to smile.)
There are no good stories, this is much better, isn't it?
(his life is so sad, claude. please, accept the moment of happiness as is, don't think about it too much-- and please, nevermind the fact that he almost bites claude's finger when he takes the piece for himself.)
You can tell me the bad ones too, you know. But I don't want to ruin your buzz. Sometimes, instead of dwelling on the bad, it's better to look ahead, hm?
[ Not that he isn't curious -- but it's not his job to pry, not about things like this. Manjiro's in a good mood. He'd hate to ruin that for him. ]
All the more reason for you to stick around here a little longer. I can give you plenty to smile about. And plenty of sweets. [ He prods at Manjiro's cheek. ] If you don't mind missing your pillow, I can whip you up something good.
What about something interesting? A kid tried to do my pills, and it disappeared right before our eyes. Your shitty city owes me money.
(a lot of weird things happen here, he supposes. there's a sense of joy in every corner, normalcy, and that isn't exactly human nature. it's shadier than manjiro's own antics, and for the life of him, he can't think of a good enough reason to live here.
visit, yes. it's looking at him, and offering him his own joy... bless claude. the finger that touches his cheek meets his lips briefly, a little kiss to soften how he puts his next words.)
... Fine, you may try to impress me. I really love sweets, so don't be scared of sugar in it.
[ Is that a little butterfly kiss pressed to his finger? Cute. Manjiro is a strangely cute man, for what he is, for who he is. A sweet tooth and an affectionate streak. What could he have been, if he were in different circumstances? Maybe he'd be something entirely different, working at a bustling bakery instead of peddling drugs.
Oh, well. The same could be said for any number of them. He grins and presses a kiss to the crown of his head - feeling daring, not that he ever doesn't - before hopping clean over the bar. ]
Now that is interesting. [ He turns his back to Manjiro as he starts to scan the bottles at his disposal, fingers alighting on them one at a time as he starts to figure out what he wants to whip up. ]
It's not common here, you know. It only just started. And only to some -- bring that up to some of the locals here, and they'll look at you like you grew a second head. They'll treat you that way too.
[ Bottles chosen, he gets to mixing it together. ]
That happened to me too, the other day. I was out shopping, and this tapestry disappeared right out of my hands. It was the strangest thing. [ He pauses, grabbing a scoop of ice and eyeing it like he's terribly interested in the whole process. ] Did anything strange happen, once it disappeared? Or was it just... poof?
(it certainly was. manjiro's never hidden his affection for this one man, at least, and the funniest part is that touch has always been how he expresses it. therefore, there's not a lot of touching in manjiro's life lately, or, well, ever. it's just gloom and doom from where he stands - but this makes the entire trip worth it. his large eyes close to fully enjoy the gentle kiss that he receives, almost lifting his head a little to steal another... but then he would delay the cocktail. he'll steal one later, once claude is back to his side.)
To you, too? It hasn't happened to me yet. It's-- almost like he was reliving something before it did, but then, poof. What do you think that's about?
(his little hand even does a little motion, closing and opening for visualization purposes.)
Weird that it was spurred by your drugs, [ Claude says thoughtfully, reaching for a couple of bottles and staring pensively at them, though it's difficult to tell if he's thinking about the drugs, or if he's thinking about the drink he's about to make. ] I thought it would be spurred largely by things that weren't actively brought here. When I had a vision of my own, I asked the shopkeeper about the tapestry, and she said that she didn't recall stocking any such thing.
[ He gives the drink a hefty pour over ice in a shaker, and begins to shake it up, a steady ratta-tat-tat as he works. ]
My going theory is that they're visions of a past life. Did he tell you what he saw? [ Claude flutters his lashes at Manjiro. ] If he did, that tale is safe with your local barkeep.
Or maybe everyone here just has a bunch of weird memory shit going on. Who has a working memory and is that happy?
(bitch, his memory barely works and look at him?
but alas, manjiro does what he wants, and right now, what he does wish to do is to sit on the bar, legs dangling a little as he sets his elbows against his thighs, hands holding his chin as he watches.
it's mostly because he can see what he's doing better from a higher angle, there's no denying that a little light of life flashed through his eyes with curiosity about what claude might be making him.)
I didn't care to ask. That's not happening to me though, so perhaps I've just lived the one?
[Caitlyn shouldn't be here. She should be at home, studying for her entrance exam for the police academy. But here she is, all the same. She's had a bad feeling about the casino for a little bit, which is why she keeps coming back. She's trying to blend in, but she knows she's too tight laced to hang around here so often. It doesn't help, either, that she also has an actual government job.
But she feels like she's on to something, and she can't help herself.
She's back, again, tonight at the card table. Usually she's good at cards. She doesn't use it to her advantage, but she could if she wanted to-- but something isn't adding up. She knows what cards should come, but no matter what she does or plays, the house wins.
She's digging herself into a hole and she doesn't like it, but she feels so close to figuring out how the house is cheating. If she can just figure it out, she can take this back to the police and prove it, then maybe someone will finally listen to her about the sketchy stuff going on around town.]
Dammit. [Another loss. She sits back in her seat, taking a long gulp of her champagne. Does she play again? Or give up, and come back another night? She just feels so close, she knows she's on to something.]
(snoopy. he's been tipped about this kid - another night that she comes by, and she plays well, but of course, manjiro always wins. part of what he has to do is to pretend he's a normal customer, one that drinks at the bar, loses visibly, and blends, even when he looks like he does.
no worries in his brain when he sits next to the lady, clicking his glass of whiskey against her champagne.)
To losing all our fucking money in this fucking place.
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expiationlogs2024-03-09 08:37 am
manjiro sano "mikey" / tokyo revengers
𝐢'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐚𝐦𝐧 (cw blood, violence, fairy murder...)
𝐭𝐨𝐩 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥 (cw drugs)
𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐝
bro your supplies are wack
But he'd choked trying to dry swallow the fucking pills, ended up vomiting, all the while with fucking scenes playing through his head: Chest pains, struggling to breathe, a massive pounding searing pain splitting across his head, soothed with the feeling of hard oblong tablets down his throat. The steely glint of a gun, the threat of going without. None of them have context, none of it means anything-- And then when he'd finally shaken himself out of it, trembling and lost and confused-- they were all fucking gone, anyway.]
Your shit's fucked, you know. [He spits the words as he's dragged in, despite the large man grabbing his arm like a vice to make sure he doesn't pull anything or keep causing further trouble in front of the boss.]
The hell are you even trying to push here?
[also he wants a refund]
no subject
What the fuck do you mean?
(it's clean, his pills are refined and there is no adding of anything in them. the purer they are, the more faithful clients, the better for business.)
no subject
A curse, and he pulls his arm out of the guy's grip. (Likely, the guy just lets him. There's no way an unarmed, dumbass punk is a threat, after all.)]
What I said. Your shits fucked.
[Meaningful. But still, after a moment of settling his nerves, deciding that he's not about to get killed and thrown in a ditch:]
You might wanna look into your supply. Got sick as fuck and started having some-- [A frown, and he lifts a hand to gesture at his head.] Weird shit happen. Is that supposed to happen? 'Cause I ain't had trouble with anything before now.
no subject
(it's not uncommon, after all. bad trips, nausea, panic, paranoia. he knows it all too well, experienced, seen it, but before shinjiro can utter another sound, he sets one of the pills he's been distributing on the table. shinjiro is not a threat to anything other than manjiro's patience, and he doesn't feel like arguing back and forth with a child - probably took it wrong, so shall they put it to a test?
a loud BANG! echoes the room, unsettles some of the bills that were on top of the stacks, but the bullet wasn't aimed at shinjiro, just next to his foot. a warning shot, as to reinforce the motion of his spare hand's index finger tapping next to the pill.)
no subject
[Blam. The ear-shattering explosion of the gun discharging makes his eyes water and his ears ring, one hand moving to his midsection. The pain takes a moment to set in, but it's sharp like a burn. Delayed, but rapidly intensifying, and blood--
Except he's fine.
His vision come back into focus and his knees had given out, probably looking every bit of the crazed junky profile. One hand is at his stomach, as though he'd been shot (he hasn't-- though there's a brand new hole in the floorboards right at his foot), and he looks slightly lost as his mind returns to what's real, what's right in front of him.
...real?Heart pounding, he tries to ignore that. Look, he's fine. He just came here to give the guy a heads up about his stock, and maybe get his cash back. Which requires getting his tongue to work in his dry mouth to answer the question he's been asked.]
Like-- like that just now. [A swallow, a shake of the head, and he'll work on trying to articulate it better.] I've had shit that makes you hallucinate before, alright? This wasn't that. I just figured you should know in case other people get the same shit happening.
no subject
can't blame that on manjiro, he doesn't think. he's allowing the freak out and explanation go on thus far, but his patience is running kind of thin already. don't put your blame on him without proof, so again, he taps the pill that he placed.)
Do it in front of me. I want to see again.
no subject
So instead he gives an aggravated noise, and moves to pick up the pill they're arguing over. He'll still keep that unflinching eye contact with the guy's dead stare, though.]
Guess I should be thanking you for the free merch, right?
[He can't help but slide in at least one shitty comment-- hopefully one less likely to get him shot since he's doing what the guy says. He'll bring the pill to his mouth and scarf it like a pro--
Or at least he would have, if the feeling of dry tablet hitting the back of his tongue hadn't keyed in that feeling again. He coughs it onto the floor, again getting that weird, glazed look for a moment.
A girl in sterile pale green and red, pressing the pills into her mouth. It's not gentle, she's making choking noises in the vision just like he did in reality. For a moment her eyes go wide--
And again it's over as quick as it happened, and Shinjiro slowly brings a hand up to his head, stumbling backwards.
Maybe he's losing it. He'd honestly think that, except for how that pill he'd choked on had just straight disappeared from where it had fallen on the floor between them.]
no subject
and then that face happens again. there's very little attention to the boy's freak out, aside from the fact that manjiro shoots a look towards the men behind shinjiro to get their pieces ready, this could be a trap. while their eyes are on the boy, manjiro's eyes are on the pill, and then, just like that, it was no longer.)
... No, that wasn't supposed to happen. It doesn't.
wildcard!
Now, some of the veil has been lifted from his eyes; he's more familiar now with the little corruptions of the rich, the fickleness with which they'll turn on someone, and he's found himself on the other side. He's not one of Manjiro's men. Far from it. But he will offer information from time to time, for the right price, against the right people, and he knows Manjiro well as one of his regulars by now.
As he sees a familiar blond head settle in at the end of the night, Manjiro will find a glass filled with strong amber liquid and a large, square ice cube set in front of him, Claude's shoulder brushing against his as he sets it down. ]
Here you are, boss. [ He winks. There's no heat to it. Claude has prided himself on being a safe place to fall for more than just Manjiro, and he knows how to keep it light and breezy. ] On the house.
no subject
You spoil me, you know.
no subject
Not many people come to visit this place, you know. You're one of the few. Maybe when you're in the mood for it, you can regale me with a story or two before you have to get back on the road.
no subject
(to feel alive is a luxury he doesn't often indulge in. a lot within manjiro has died over the years, the brightness in his smile, the childish laughter and the burning desire to stand tall and rule. he's turned cold, ruthless, tired, although with claude, he remembers how smiling feels on his lips.
he takes a sip, setting his head almost demandingly against the other's shoulder.)
What kind of stories do you want to hear?
no subject
[ It feels like a rare treasure, to have Manjiro rest his head against his shoulder like this. He's underneath no illusions about the sort of person he is. It makes this a little scary, a little exciting; for all his reputation, sometimes Claude still feels like a lost little rich boy, sheltered and inexperienced, unused to the ways of the world. Manjiro is... something else.
But even if Manjiro's the dangerous one, he's trusting Claude enough to be at ease, just for a moment. How did that happen? ]
Anything and everything. I want to hear about the world outside of this place. The exciting things you've seen. Maybe... [ His brow creases. ] Something good.
[ No point dwelling on sadness. Drink and bad memories are a bad combination. ]
no subject
yet, unmoving from the contact.
and then, claude asks something good. something exciting. there has been decades since manjiro felt that one, but there's one thing that makes him happy lately.
so, he reaches for his pocket, turning so that claude can't see it, and sticks a taiyaki carefully between the man's lips so he can try.)
Candy.
no subject
[ His words are garbled through a mouthful of taiyaki, so he does at least take a moment to chew and swallow a bitw. It's pretty sweet, to be fair. It just isn't anything like what he could have expected to be regaled with. He thought at least there would be, oh, he doesn't know... some tale of some real asshole getting what he deserves? A beautiful sunrise? Some money? ]
If I'd known you had such a sweet tooth, I would have mixed you up something better to drink. [ He takes the piece he didn't eat, then pops it into Manjiro's mouth for him with a smile. ] Don't let me hog all your joy.
no subject
There are no good stories, this is much better, isn't it?
(his life is so sad, claude. please, accept the moment of happiness as is, don't think about it too much-- and please, nevermind the fact that he almost bites claude's finger when he takes the piece for himself.)
You didn't know? It's my favorite thing.
no subject
[ Not that he isn't curious -- but it's not his job to pry, not about things like this. Manjiro's in a good mood. He'd hate to ruin that for him. ]
All the more reason for you to stick around here a little longer. I can give you plenty to smile about. And plenty of sweets. [ He prods at Manjiro's cheek. ] If you don't mind missing your pillow, I can whip you up something good.
no subject
(a lot of weird things happen here, he supposes. there's a sense of joy in every corner, normalcy, and that isn't exactly human nature. it's shadier than manjiro's own antics, and for the life of him, he can't think of a good enough reason to live here.
visit, yes. it's looking at him, and offering him his own joy... bless claude. the finger that touches his cheek meets his lips briefly, a little kiss to soften how he puts his next words.)
... Fine, you may try to impress me. I really love sweets, so don't be scared of sugar in it.
no subject
Oh, well. The same could be said for any number of them. He grins and presses a kiss to the crown of his head - feeling daring, not that he ever doesn't - before hopping clean over the bar. ]
Now that is interesting. [ He turns his back to Manjiro as he starts to scan the bottles at his disposal, fingers alighting on them one at a time as he starts to figure out what he wants to whip up. ]
It's not common here, you know. It only just started. And only to some -- bring that up to some of the locals here, and they'll look at you like you grew a second head. They'll treat you that way too.
[ Bottles chosen, he gets to mixing it together. ]
That happened to me too, the other day. I was out shopping, and this tapestry disappeared right out of my hands. It was the strangest thing. [ He pauses, grabbing a scoop of ice and eyeing it like he's terribly interested in the whole process. ] Did anything strange happen, once it disappeared? Or was it just... poof?
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To you, too? It hasn't happened to me yet. It's-- almost like he was reliving something before it did, but then, poof. What do you think that's about?
(his little hand even does a little motion, closing and opening for visualization purposes.)
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[ He gives the drink a hefty pour over ice in a shaker, and begins to shake it up, a steady ratta-tat-tat as he works. ]
My going theory is that they're visions of a past life. Did he tell you what he saw? [ Claude flutters his lashes at Manjiro. ] If he did, that tale is safe with your local barkeep.
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(bitch, his memory barely works and look at him?
but alas, manjiro does what he wants, and right now, what he does wish to do is to sit on the bar, legs dangling a little as he sets his elbows against his thighs, hands holding his chin as he watches.
it's mostly because he can see what he's doing better from a higher angle, there's no denying that a little light of life flashed through his eyes with curiosity about what claude might be making him.)
I didn't care to ask. That's not happening to me though, so perhaps I've just lived the one?
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But she feels like she's on to something, and she can't help herself.
She's back, again, tonight at the card table. Usually she's good at cards. She doesn't use it to her advantage, but she could if she wanted to-- but something isn't adding up. She knows what cards should come, but no matter what she does or plays, the house wins.
She's digging herself into a hole and she doesn't like it, but she feels so close to figuring out how the house is cheating. If she can just figure it out, she can take this back to the police and prove it, then maybe someone will finally listen to her about the sketchy stuff going on around town.]
Dammit. [Another loss. She sits back in her seat, taking a long gulp of her champagne. Does she play again? Or give up, and come back another night? She just feels so close, she knows she's on to something.]
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no worries in his brain when he sits next to the lady, clicking his glass of whiskey against her champagne.)
To losing all our fucking money in this fucking place.