B1, Day 2 [ public ]

[sarcaskick]

So... ripped from my homeworld, semi-brainwashed by some prince guy, now I work in a circus, blah blah blah. I can roll with it. So, what now? We just sit around and wait for the next show, or disaster, or whatever?

[ There's a long, weary, blatantly over-dramatic sigh, as though the thought is the single most painful thing in the world for him. As if some major event hadn't just come to a close that people might still be reeling from. Not his problem, he's bored now. ]

I hate waiting. How's a guy supposed to get his kicks around here? Someone, be my knight in shining armor and save me from the shackles of boredom. I'm dying, here!

[ You would think someone trying to make a good first impression might offer to help, or present himself politely, or at least you know say his freaking name, but.

Well.

He ain't much on making good impressions. ]

Don't keep me waiting.

Comments

[sarcaskick]

My word, my word...

[ He paces back and forth for a moment, obviously making a show of pretending to think. ]

Remind me, what exactly were my words? I just want to make sure we're on the same page.

[disjunct]

Why, you asserted that you didn't take orders from anybody, so despite the fact that you truly didn't care, you claimed this bunk as your own!

And we asserted "go fuck thineself!" And we presumed you waited an hour to come back to build a punchline or aggravate us, whichever!

1/2

[sarcaskick]

Ooooh, you're real close! But you're focused on the wrong words, princess. The key phrase you should have worried about was, "you're not getting that bunk, period".

2/2

[sarcaskick]

[ This is the part where he swings his leg so it crashes through two of the bedposts.

You know, the ones keeping the bunkbed upright.

So.

Geronimo. ]

1/???

[disjunct]

[ The thunk doesn't hurt that badly, but she is in shock. I literally had to edit Mukuro's shocked face to get an icon that was nearly as close-- she just looks up at him, wide eyed... ]

I didn't predict it.

...

[ Like she's struck with a fever ] I didn't predict it--

[disjunct]

WHAT'S THE DEAL? ARE YOU TRYING TO SEDUCE ME OR SOMETHING?!

[disjunct]

It's working a little bit.

BUT.

done

[disjunct]

That was my bunk and you ruined it. I don't care how despairingly happy I am--

[ Analysis analysis analysis-- don't go for anything he can counter simply by lifting a leg and kicking, including projectiles and face to face combat. There's less he can do from behind, aura or not, if she acts fasts.

She gently strokes the sides of his shirt, as if pleased, then immediately uses it as grip to try and whip herself behind him and lock both arms around his waist.

If she succeeds, she's going to suplex him as hard as she can. ]

[sarcaskick]

[ He could, as she's grabbing him from behind, fire blasts from both feet to send them rocketing backward into the wall. It's an option, but one that would probably break her ribs if not her spine, and while he wouldn't necessarily lose any sleep over it he'd also probably get in more trouble than he already might for destroying their bed, so... maybe plan B is better.

Plan B: Let it happen!

Her grip is secure, her form is flawless and the maneuver is executed perfectly. The sound of the impact is solid, but not quite right for the weight of a body being slammed to the ground. His hands, as it turns out, shot out to catch himself at the last moment, pushing back hard enough to just barely keep his head from making contact with the floor. He's used to catching himself on his hands, anyway - in a fight, he spends almost as much time on them as he does on his feet. Hell, he could have been an acrobat.

Though the floor is slightly dented from where his hands caught himself. She's no slouch, that's for sure. ]

That makes two of us that don't care, then.

[ He doesn't even try to escape her grip. He's still upside-down in her arms.

He yawns. ]

Is that all?

[disjunct]

[ She grabs his neck and maneuvers herself around to put both hands around them as she twists to sit up on his chest. She's squeezing with all the force she has, but she's looking rather contemplative as she does it. ]

Hm, hm, this might be too nice...

[ She takes a breath and wipes her lips while keeping the other hand steady.

Before letting go entirely. She hasn't moved yet, however. ]

It's all useless! Useless! Useless! You've got a superpower and I don't, that means this fight is over before it started. [ She folds her arms. ]

Let me grade you. B+ for destroying our beds, didn't see it coming, but now we're both screwed. A nice A- for arrogance knowing that a chick without physical superpowers can't beat you in a fight. A failing grade for underestimating me.

[ Something's ticking now that she's done talking.

Tick tick tick tick ticktickticktickticktickticktick--

It's coming from beneath her broken bed. ]

[sarcaskick]

Hey, I can sleep wherever I need to. Beds are optional. Besides, I don't see how I under--

[ ...

Huh.

Huh.

The logical side of his brain says there's no way she actually put a bomb under their beds ahead of time to plan for this specific occasion, but then again she's been anything but logical from the first time he spoke to her. He should really expect anything to be possible when she's on the scene, which is exciting but also kind of annoying when it's used against him.

But that's fine. It's fine! This is fine.

She's still on top of him, so he'll take the opportunity to reach up, grab her by the shoulders, and roll both her and himself to the side - placing her directly between himself and whatever's ticking. If it's a bomb, she can die for all he cares - her body and his aura should be enough to protect him. He'll have a mess to clean up and some explaining to do, but eh. Whatever. ]

[disjunct]

Oh, hell. You keep this up and I'll really have a crush on you or something. Shielding yourself from my own bomb, like a pansy.

... Hey, dumbass.

... Idiot human garbage.

... ... Do you really want to lose what you signed your contract for by holding someone as a human meat shield?

[ The ticking does sound more like a timer now... hm... ]

[sarcaskick]

I'd rather get your blood on me than a bunch of debris, that's all.

[ He's. Not moving. ]

I'm not too worried about that. I could spin it so I "valiantly took down a terrorist that threatened the circus", or whatever. Hell, I'd be a hero.

[disjunct]

Cute, that's cute... that's so cute and heartless I could just...

[ Ding!

Nothing happens. ]

[sarcaskick]

...

[ ... ]

. . .

[ . . . ]

I know this probably goes without saying, but you are one weird chick.

1/3

[disjunct]

[ By now, she can wiggle free, she lifts up the edge of her once-top bunk easily and rips something weird looking with a cooking timer wired in that came with the trailer.

She gets up and walks outside, and if he follows her, she'll make him proud(?) with the most effortless drop kick in the world. ]

[disjunct]

[disjunct]

[ Like fireworks in the air. She turns towards Mercury and pats his shoulder. ]

All is forgiven! The blankets and linens and lights are mine though. I think we should keep the 'don't fuck with me' banner for special occasions, but that's up to you. I don't really care about who gets which bunk anymore, but we should really call the repair guy before they close for the night, okay?

[ She likes that he was ready to throw her under the bus despite being his only source of non-boredom so far. She'd do the same! Admittedly she finds him cuter than he finds her (as far as she can tell-- she said no more predicting.) ]

[sarcaskick]

[ It's strange. He knows he's surprised, he's sure that he didn't expect her to get up and actually drop-kick a bomb out the door, and yet as he stands behind her in the doorway to watch the ensuing explosion he can't even bring a surprised look to his face. It's not even that he predicted this, it's just...

She's going to be living with him.

It's going to be fun, but it's also going to be a headache. But at least she gives him something nice to look at ]

Yeah... I'm not doing that.

[ He pats her shoulder in return, turning on his heel to head back inside. ]

You didn't put a bomb in the toilet, right?

1/?

[disjunct]

I didn't have enough ingredients for more than one.

[ Tsundere face, almost immediately. ]

And it's not like I wanted to bust either of our contracts... or kill you. So I built it so it could only be triggered by me, to see what you'd do when I had another thing up my sleeve. I don't like being outdone, you know?

[ Her eyebrows crease, along with her smile. ] You thought your aura and me as a meatshield would've been strong enough to stop a bomb of that caliber at that proximity. But you don't run away despite the consequences that'll put you back with your problem, that's cute, but you risk whatever you sold your soul for here by not running. That's stupid.

I don't know what to grade you...!! How annoying!

2/2

[disjunct]

I guess you just make me curious, and I've never been curious about anything before.

[ Junko will drape across the sofa once she gets in, the perfect re-enactment of a dismayed damsel. ]

I'm about to ask you something I've never asked anyone else! Listen up!

Brawling is fine, but no trying to kill each other...! Truce? I might lie with my actions but I never lie with my words.

[sarcaskick]

I do things the way I want to do them. That's really all there is to it. Besides, you're the one who made the bomb - it wouldn't have been murder to get blown up by it. More like suicide, if anything. I think my contract would have been just fine.

[ He seriously has no trouble talking casually about the hypothetical situation in which he let her die, to her face. Why would he? He's not ashamed of what he did.

He's at the bathroom door by the time she makes her offer, halfway inside as he leans back to peer at her with a shrug. ]

Sure. Fair warning though, I lie all the time.

[ AND ON THAT NOTE, HE'S GONNA GO PEE NOW ]

[disjunct]

[ She rolls her eyes as he leaves, he's right. If that aura really is strong enough to withstand a bomb, she can't lay a scratch on him without a huge mega-ploy in play. And he's fun to fight against. He's fun to unnerve He's fun to trick into thinking she's honest to god insane when there was a method to everything she did-- down to the fake timer on the real bomb.

"I can do it, I just want to see what you'd do."

Sacrifice her, apparently. She smiles. It wouldn't even be a second thought for her in the same position. Maybe she'd be delightedly talking about dying together, though.

He is cute, and that's a pain. He's very electric when they're toying with each other, playing the calm and sarcastic half to her earnest energy and forthrightness. When they're on each other's sides. If and whenever the hell he comes out, her disposition will have changed completely. ]

Might as well spill the dumpster fires we came from that lead us to signing the bill. Or lie aggressively about it? Where do you come from?

[sarcaskick]

[ He does come out, because peeing is a finite activity. He half expects to come back out to the sight of half the trailer being on fire, because why the hell not, so it's almost a relief to find her trying to start a conversation instead. ]

The moon. I'm an alien tasked with scouting out mankind's weaknesses so we know just how to strike when our invasion force comes knocking.

[ "Lie aggressively" apparently means "lie obviously" ]

I have antennae and everything. They're just really tiny.

[disjunct]

Cool, I destroyed the world and all hope of humanity ever rising up again without the looming threat of despair taking what little they have left and shredding it to pieces until those remaining humans can't live anymore.

[ She's telling the truth, but like he'll ever know! She has a bored expression on her face too, as if she's playing along with his schtick. ]

Two thousand people killed themselves because I told them to. It sparked several world wars. And you used me as a shield for a bomb.