childe | tartaglia | a̶j̶a̶x (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
narbrawl) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
jigokulogs2022-04-01 03:04 pm
narbrawl) wrote in jigokulogs2022-04-01 03:04 pm
[open] april catch-all
Who Childe and You!
What April Catch-all
When Throughout April
Where Various
Content Warnings n/a
i. because i like you [closed to shuten clan members]
[Bacon hisses in a pan, fluffy pancakes brown and rise, coffee bubbles away… Childe is the picture of morning industry as he puts together a hearty breakfast. Flour dusts his freckled forearms where his sleeves are rolled up and, as he works, he sips from a glass of orange juice.
Trouble is, this is not his kitchen.
Just the evening before, he had been called to the office of one of the lower ranking families within the Shuten clan. In that smoky room, a highly-strung oni whose name he’s already forgotten had given him an assignment, the name of his partner for the job and the kind of look that only comes in tandem with multiple ulcers and high blood pressure. He’d reassured him that his accomplice would be informed the next afternoon and sent on his way- but that’s not nearly soon enough for Childe. It made perfect sense to deliver the message himself.
Getting in was never going to be an issue; security had clearly been given as much consideration when building these apartment blocks as comfort, space and utility, which is to say none at all. Expecting more from hell seems like wishful thinking. Regardless, it served Childe well in this instance. Whether he slipped in through a slightly open window, casually jimmied a lock or talked a spare key out of a bored maintenance worker, he’s currently inside his partner-to-be’s apartment and making himself at home.
Only when he’s put the finishing touches on breakfast does he attempt to wake the real occupant, assuming the noise hasn’t done so already.
And, obviously, he does this by nudging them with his toe, ringing an empty mug with a spoon and, in a voice far too cheery for this time of day, chirping-]
Rise and shine, comrade! Busy day ahead of us!
[Don’t make him drag you out of bed.]
[ooc: lmk if you had anything specifically in mind for their assignment/job or if you want me to just throw whatever at them!]
ii. every dog has his day [open]
[Technology really is marvelous.
After spending his first weeks hand-washing all of his clothes, Childe had finally learned of something unique to this era in the form of a machine that does all the work for you- and a place full of them. The owner of the laundromat explained- in that jaded way that suggests they’ve had this conversation far too many times lately- how everything worked and- in that despairing way that suggests they’ve also had this conversation far too many times lately- warned him not to break anything.
Childe sits cross-legged on the bench at the centre of the room, flipping idly through a magazine as he waits for his first load to finish up. With most of his clothes currently being washed, he’s left in some of the pieces he’d picked up dirt cheap in his first few days here with very little regard for size- which is why he’s had to roll the cuffs of his jeans right up and his t-shirt gapes where he’s leaning forward. It makes for a strange sight; the way the fabric swamps him is far too boyish for his otherwise broad, long-limbed frame and the scars on display only add to the effect.
Not that he seems to care particularly. With a yawn, Childe leans back onto one hand and holds the magazine out to the only other person waiting with him.]
I’m done with this one, if you want it. [The cover depicts a kasa-okabe in sunglasses in a vibrant, graffiti-covered street during a downpour with the words DRIPPED OUT printed along the top. He still doesn’t entirely understand the pun but that’s fine.] There’s a fascinating article about energy drinks on page twenty.
What April Catch-all
When Throughout April
Where Various
Content Warnings n/a
i. because i like you [closed to shuten clan members]
[Bacon hisses in a pan, fluffy pancakes brown and rise, coffee bubbles away… Childe is the picture of morning industry as he puts together a hearty breakfast. Flour dusts his freckled forearms where his sleeves are rolled up and, as he works, he sips from a glass of orange juice.
Trouble is, this is not his kitchen.
Just the evening before, he had been called to the office of one of the lower ranking families within the Shuten clan. In that smoky room, a highly-strung oni whose name he’s already forgotten had given him an assignment, the name of his partner for the job and the kind of look that only comes in tandem with multiple ulcers and high blood pressure. He’d reassured him that his accomplice would be informed the next afternoon and sent on his way- but that’s not nearly soon enough for Childe. It made perfect sense to deliver the message himself.
Getting in was never going to be an issue; security had clearly been given as much consideration when building these apartment blocks as comfort, space and utility, which is to say none at all. Expecting more from hell seems like wishful thinking. Regardless, it served Childe well in this instance. Whether he slipped in through a slightly open window, casually jimmied a lock or talked a spare key out of a bored maintenance worker, he’s currently inside his partner-to-be’s apartment and making himself at home.
Only when he’s put the finishing touches on breakfast does he attempt to wake the real occupant, assuming the noise hasn’t done so already.
And, obviously, he does this by nudging them with his toe, ringing an empty mug with a spoon and, in a voice far too cheery for this time of day, chirping-]
Rise and shine, comrade! Busy day ahead of us!
[Don’t make him drag you out of bed.]
[ooc: lmk if you had anything specifically in mind for their assignment/job or if you want me to just throw whatever at them!]
ii. every dog has his day [open]
[Technology really is marvelous.
After spending his first weeks hand-washing all of his clothes, Childe had finally learned of something unique to this era in the form of a machine that does all the work for you- and a place full of them. The owner of the laundromat explained- in that jaded way that suggests they’ve had this conversation far too many times lately- how everything worked and- in that despairing way that suggests they’ve also had this conversation far too many times lately- warned him not to break anything.
Childe sits cross-legged on the bench at the centre of the room, flipping idly through a magazine as he waits for his first load to finish up. With most of his clothes currently being washed, he’s left in some of the pieces he’d picked up dirt cheap in his first few days here with very little regard for size- which is why he’s had to roll the cuffs of his jeans right up and his t-shirt gapes where he’s leaning forward. It makes for a strange sight; the way the fabric swamps him is far too boyish for his otherwise broad, long-limbed frame and the scars on display only add to the effect.
Not that he seems to care particularly. With a yawn, Childe leans back onto one hand and holds the magazine out to the only other person waiting with him.]
I’m done with this one, if you want it. [The cover depicts a kasa-okabe in sunglasses in a vibrant, graffiti-covered street during a downpour with the words DRIPPED OUT printed along the top. He still doesn’t entirely understand the pun but that’s fine.] There’s a fascinating article about energy drinks on page twenty.
no subject
You should try the kind that's pooped out by cats!
[That's a terrible description no matter how you look at it... but not entirely incorrect, either. Does hell really have some of the finest coffees in the world, though... That would make it more like heaven, surely?]
As it happens, I wasn't throwing it around. [Don't fish against a fisherman, young grass-chopper! But Dazai will throw you a bone anyway, because whatever. He'll even resist the urge to go with some crazy fake name, just because that would be effort to maintain, and he'll be waiting for his laundry for a while longer.] But it's Dazai Osamu. And yourself?
no subject
[Did he just say what he thought he said? By cats? He can't decide if he's put off or overwhelmed with the need to try it- which is a surprisingly common mixture of feelings for him, it has to be said.]
Childe.
[Not his real name, obviously, but there's nothing duplicitous behind it; "Tartaglia" feels too formal, like they're sitting across a negotiating table rather than a rickety bench, and "Ajax" rarely gets to introduce himself these days. The only people who know him by that name are a long, long way away. Regardless, he skips to a new topic before Dazai has a chance to comment on it.]
Did you just strip off as soon as you got in here?
no subject
... Well, perhaps fighting a visceral feeling of repulsion isn't quite what people mean by that... but Dazai wouldn't know. He'd rather not do the fight thing in general.
"Childe" is normally followed by an actual name, in Dazai's admittedly largely theoretical experience, but if that's what the (former?) stranger is going with, then Dazai will play along. If he wants the truth, he might be able to find out, but he doesn't currently care enough, and saying otherwise out loud can only damage his case regardless. So "Childe, just Childe" it is!]
It would be hard to wash them otherwise, wouldn't it?
[So of course he took off his clothes! Logic, he has it. Multitasking, Dazai flicks through the magazine in the meantime, sometimes finishing a page in one second flat, sometimes taking longer and... apparently reading it bottom to top after finishing it top to bottom? Who knows what mind games he's playing with himself for entertainment, really.]
I did consider getting into the machine with my clothes on, but I already took a shower yesterday.
[That is not how washing machines work... but then, Dazai would have found a way. Just put a machine on its side, open the lid to make it a tiny one-person circular bath tub... Add some soap...... It would be so much fun to be spun around like that while bubbles slowly consume the entire laundromat.]