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.
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