tastes_of_honey: (Sexual Powertrip)
I brought my new lover home. He was a bit wide-eyed--you know, with his one eye--about moving from Italy to England and eight years forward in one shake of a lamb (of God)'s tail but then he jumped onto my back and wrapped around me and demanded a piggyback ride. Since I'm just that awesome, I gave him one through the streets of Londontown. Sure, I could have brought him straight home but a flat looks like a flat looks like a flat and I aim to impress. We went to the skankiest club I know to dance and let him scare people a bit then went to my place and screwed like crazed weasels in heat. Not that I know what that looks like because I've never watched crazed weasels go at it. Ew. And a great time was had by all, and he only playfully threatened to kill the queen once. The end.
tastes_of_honey: (Squee!)
If the Right Said Fred lead singer gets in the running for London's mayor, I will never stop mentioning it to Brad. Ever. You know that when that song was big I tortured Brad with it. I was amazed these guys weren't actually German.

I love the photo too, especially that the guy's jacket appears to be made of bubble wrap. That's brilliant! I want one. No one could resist me in bubble wrap! Of course I would probably end up popping it completely myself at some point.


Yuuko gave me a lead on a great place to live, but I'm also following some other places up. In the meantime, I'm bunking up with some activists I met, and I'm teaching them how to really make a thrown rock count and how to say all kinds of anti-imperialism and anti-globalism phrases in German. I could also teach them how to say 'em in seven other languages and ASL too. The ASL was the hardest to learn--and like I can't just use telepathy to communicate with the deaf, but no, we have to pretend to be mundanes--but at least now Brad and I can sign all kinds of obnoxious and amusing things in public to each other.

...why do Brad's asshole points have to outweigh his good points?

Anyway, knowing any kind of sign language instantly increases my cred amongst bleeding hearts.
tastes_of_honey: (Favorite Things)
::Schu's Nexus living room now has a coffee table and a different couch. He's wearing a long-sleeved shirt, but the healing bracelet [livejournal.com profile] killwithmymind gave him a while ago is still visible along with some bruises.::

Nagi asked a question, and, sure enough, here she shows up. I personally think Nii would make a great Daddy for Töt. They both love stuffed bunnies, and they're both disturbing as all hell. She loves scientists. Maybe their bunnies could get together and... shit, I'm squicking myself. Anyway, they're the match-up of win.

Ken-ken's still in the Nexus. So cute! For now I'm lurking and letting other people mess with him. He's just too easy.

Ichigo's color is deep pink. Chicka chicka bow wow!

I waaaaaant one: blood puddle pillows.

I can't believe some people are actually donating blood to this guy. Yeah, I went through the Rosenkreuz School of Hard Knocks, but this is common sense, people! Speaking of, this humor article from The Onion amused me: "Majority of Parents Abuse Children, Children Report." It's tragic! The vegetables, the bed and bath times, the denial of new toys! The unwanted physical contact of being... hugged in front of your friends. Ja? Try growing up in the wrong side of Berlin in pre-unification Germany like a lot of my personalities did.

Hide the liquor, the kittens are alkies! That's a cat macro waiting to happen. Also, a comment of great justice: "OMG! That's why Hemingway cats developed thumbs! TO POUR HIM DRINKS"


Yeah, anyway, you might notice that my couch is different now. That's because I bled on the last one. It was a rougher job than usual, I had to Portal myself here to my couch so I wouldn't splat from hitting the ground from falling from a great height, then from here I had to PINpoint myself to our doctor because my head had been knocked around so badly I couldn't accurately Portal any further.... We have a special deal with him so I don't have to sit in a waiting room and sit in the middle of people radiating sickness and pain. Getting rid of the chip in my head means I can have CT scans done for my head, which is great. (The bullet that's lodged in my back is much lower down. The small metal bits in me here and there don't appear to be a problem, thankfully.)

I love the way our doctor talks. I wouldn't have cared as much once, but now I love a Welsh accent due to the Welsh tea cutie on Torchwood. Our doctor can bitch me out for using a colored tie and headband to cover my bullet wounds any day. Call me "Richard" in those annoyed Welsh tones some more, doctor, 'cause you know I love it. (My pseud came from me being clever. My name sounds like "Shool-dick," after all.) I have some lingering headaches, but nothing's messed up inside my skull.

Brad was thrilled by the damage me and Farf did. Thrilled. At that point Farf said he wants to rejoin us permanently, so Brad said he'd start looking for an apartment that had three bedrooms. I told him not to bother, because I couldn't take living with Farf anymore, not with his electricity crawling along my skin all the time we're in a space together. (Yes, let's all do that Linkin Park song together: "These wounds, they will not heeeeeeeeeeal....") I told him I'll be looking for my own apartment. Brad flipped his lid. Loudly and vehemently and with some punches and a lot of wrist grabbing. I retaliated, going from his American English to the local English when I really started to lose it and wallop back. I started out saying I was going to get my ass out and into a new apartment and ended with me saying I would have a new flat and I would kick his fucking arse. We surprised Farf, who never saw me and Brad white trash fight like this when he'd been with the team. I hadn't had as much say back then. He put himself bodily between us to stop it. Farf said he'd be willing to find his own place, but Brad doesn't want him moving out either. Yeah, Brad, we make great pets.

You should have seen the look on Brad's face when I announced that I was moving out on my own. Priceless. He hasn't looked out for my interests in too long, and the only time we ever have any sex or "give Schu some quiet stillness" time is when I get Farf out of the house and make it happen, so screw him.

I packed up my stuff and put it in storage. Locked doors are something Schwarz doesn't really doesn't respect because we all easily pick locks, and Brad can be a vengeful bitch, so why take a chance? When in London, I'm crashing with some activist friends while I look for a flat to call my own. I'm not going to my Nagi to live with because Brad would think that meant something I don't intend it to, and besides, Nagi recently thought it was so cute that Shudibi-chan has learned some light HTML and about cat macros.

I wonder how well Brad will handle wrangling Farf by himself. I've always wrangled everyone: making sure Farf didn't kill too many people we weren't being paid to kill, making sure Nagi was eating and wasn't staying up too late cybering....

I'll miss things, like watching Heroes downloads with Brad and Farf. We're all rooting for Sylar, who looks much better to me dressed as Zane, but Brad also has this thing for Adrian Pasdar. Yeah, Pasdar's hot, but Brad may be the only guy who thinks Pasdar was the best thing about Near Dark instead of the Aliens reunion team. C'mon, Lance Henriksen, Bill Paxton, and Jenette Goldstein as fun-loving psycho killers! Brad complains that they were reckless and undisciplined. Whatever. They died stupidly, but they were cool until then.

So I have my own back. It's me against 99.8% of the world. Reminding myself that no one is a special snowflake rings kind of hollow. But maybe if I don't have Farf's electricity rubbing my nerves raw all the time I won't be as hair-trigger angry as much.

Why did I forget that people suck so badly? Is this what happens when I keep my shields up more often?
tastes_of_honey: (Default)
I celebrated Easter with a lot of candy, particularly chocolate bunny ears, and a lot of sex. I may have huffed a bit too much nitrous oxide from balloons last night, though. London's nightlife is a bit weird. The problem with being a telepath hanging around people using drugs is that using drugs starts to seem like a better idea.


Siberian has arrived in the Nexus, and we're already breaking his brain. Not that there's so much brain there to break. Ah, Weiß. But he's good for [livejournal.com profile] just_a_murder in his way. You just keep being good for Aya, Ken-ken.

I have the bad feeling that someone is talking smack about me. I'll keep my eyes open to see if things get worse. Gojyo sure is. I'm annoyed that he put me on the spot about Schwarz-not-Schwarz, then didn't even have the decency to give me a cuddle. I even fetched him shit beer.

Three linked guys at different points on the wheel of their linked lives meet at a bar for one's birthday and get drunk. Hilarity ensues. I'm cheering Toki and Goku on.


I provided some advice to a Harry Potter and an older Simba. Lions grow up so fast. The last time I spoke to Simba he was a lot smaller and I was still LOL'd as a Barbie doll, albeit a gorgeous, hard-edged one.

The Joker is offering religion and somehow managing to be even creepier about it than the Daleks for Jesus. I refuse to accept a clown as my personal savior, even if he is openly homicidal.

Jason Todd asked for confirmation that there really are way too many Robins in the Nexus. I told him there are far more Edward Elrics, so he should count his blessings. Elric of Melniboné would back me up on that one.

That guy who doesn't have a name anymore must be low on cash, because he's ineptly trying to pick the Nexus' pockets. He didn't get any money off me, but he did give me a cheap if brief thrill.

A new, telepathic arrival asked what we thought of yaoi telepaths, and I told her that we're here, we're queer, get used to it.

This chickie only seems to show up about once a year, but she brought out Yuuko and Rukia's Valley best. ((Even though Rukia later castigated her mun for it at [livejournal.com profile] dear_mun.))


I had nothing to do with this at all, but it entertained me. Maxwell Lord is looking for ideas for a mascot for a chain of inter-dimensional fast food restaurants. "Creepy pedophile clowns are right out." We keep coming back to clowns, don't we?

((And Schu received some lovin' at [livejournal.com profile] good_rpers_rock! ::blush::))
tastes_of_honey: (Default)
I'm a popular dinner guest these days, eating with Greed and with [livejournal.com profile] dream_departed and [livejournal.com profile] sinofsurviving. The dinner in my own reality with Nagi went well, even though Brad and Nagi did their alpha dog teeth-baring and metaphorical territorial pissing throughout. Brad passed on the information about that organization that wanted London Aya, and Nagi's people will be looking into them too. None of us wants a new Eszett-like organization to start to form.

I practiced some nearly forgotten art skills to help Nagi and tried to get a better feel for what the new Schuldig in the Nexus is about.

Gojyo figured out who [livejournal.com profile] kill_the_buddha is. No good deed goes unpunished. Oh, and [livejournal.com profile] hide_in_a_smile isn't a cute kitten anymore, so once the honeymoon period ends we should probably, unfortunately, expect the angst train to resume.


Watching these two guys trade insults is pretty amusing. Meanwhile, Aziraphale has fallen prey to one of the nastiest LOLs I've seen in a while.


Happy birthday, [livejournal.com profile] monkeyneedsfood! You don't look a day over 518.
tastes_of_honey: (with Farfarello)
Schuldig had the information they'd come for. Few people could hold much back once Farfarello started using his electrical methods of persuasion. It smelled like burnt hair, pork barbecue, and gunpowder in the room. Aloha. While smoking one of their vic's cigarettes to make more of his own contribution to the smell, Schu kept his mind open to pick up any last tidbits of data amidst the waves of pain and to see if any more thugs would be coming. He and Farfarello had already destroyed a small army, but thugs tended to be a renewable resource.

There's one. Schu shot him through the head as soon as the guy opened the door.

"Are we done?" Farf asked, bouncing up on his toes, smiling. He looked so cute when he smiled, from something about the way it made the scars on his face pull.

Schuldig refused to think about that. "I have it. We're done."

Farfarello slashed through the man's throat to finish him, then cleaned the blade on the vic's shirt before sheathing it. He turned off the lights as they left.

As they walked to the car, Farfarello said, "Do ye ever think about the elder gods?"

"Cthulu? We stopped the elders so we wouldn't have to bow down to some many-tentacled thing from beyond. Masafumi Takatori was already almost enough to turn me off calamari." Schuldig shuddered more from the feel of Farf's barely pent-up electricity slithering between them than from the memories.

"Nah, the forebears of the more modern gods, like as in Mother Earth and Father Sky."

"And She got earth because... yeah. Even older gods come from unimaginative sex jokes. No, I don't think about it. Why, Farf?"

"The male god was almost always a lightning god."

A lot of times it didn't take much to set Schuldig up in conversations because the mind reading gave him cue cards. With Farf's mind being as difficult as it was and Schuldig's recent increased shielding, it took longer. "No. You are not a god. You are not a demigod, a half-god, or a son of a god. I don't see why you'd even want to be considering what shit their lives usually end up being but no, you are not. And I'm sure as hell not paying you any tribute."

Farfarello just smiled, serene and secure in his knowledge. "No tribute at all?"

"Just this." As Schuldig got in the car, he flipped him off American style. As he drove away without Farfarello, he yelled out the window, "You can get home on the back of a donkey, you ass!"

About four blocks away, Schuldig had to park and stop the car for a bit to rest his head on the steering wheel. Farf thought he was some kind of fucking divinity. More than ever, Schuldig regretted that Sister Ruth had gotten her stupid ass killed before he could have dug into what porridge passed as a mind for her. Of course, his thoughts of how that meeting would have gone tended to be along the lines of him shaking her as he ripped into her mind and asked repeatedly, "Who was his father, you stupid bitch?" before killing her himself. There are these things called "tact" and "smarts," Sister, you might have wanted to try using on your own son before you drove him utterly around the bend....

What the hell was it with him and psychos anyway?

When he arrived home, the dining room table had been beautifully set. Although the dinner for Nagi that night would be made by a caterer and delivered later, Brad, of course, would want the table done his own way. "You'll make someone a fine wife someday, Brad Crawford," Schuldig said.

"Where's Farfarello?" Brad simply answered.

"Playing Jesus to the lepers in his head. He thinks he's divine today."


"You're the one who wants to take him on permanently. Why did you delay us so much that time with the Sister Ruth disaster?"

"Most of the time I see short-term. Short-term said it was best to delay." Brad had his seeing-into-the-distance look on. "Hmmm. At least he'll arrive within the two hours necessary today."

"Hmm? Oh. Good one, Carnak the Magnificent."

Brad gave him an assessing look. "Come over here."

Schuldig shot him a look but came over. Brad grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him in close, giving him calm stillness to bathe in. Eyes closing, shields unconsciously opening to drink it in better, Schuldig leaned his head against Brad's and relaxed. "Nnnngh."

Stroking Schuldig's hair, Brad murmured, "Much better. No more lines of strain around your eyes. Now you're fresh as a tiger lily, perfect for the table."

Brad knew Nagi would be watching Schuldig to see how Schwarz had been treating him lately, and Brad had no intention of letting his operatives be poached by anyone, let alone by his former protégé.

"You're such an asshole." But Schuldig smiled and nuzzled Brad's neck. For the first time in ages, he didn't have that charged feeling in the apartment crawling all over his skin.

"There's such a big difference in you when he's not here."

"I've been saying that." Felt so good and indolent right now. Nuzzling.... "Nagi will arrive about 15 minutes earlier than he has to, which means in less than two hours. That's about how long it'll take the caterers to bring the food, right? How long do you think it would take Farf to get here?"

"You smell like death...." Brad smiled. "We'll have enough time."
tastes_of_honey: (Favorite Things)
Last night was bad. I ended up staggering in at 11 a.m. this morning, looking like enough hell that Brad got over his "you melted people's brains with your rage yesterday" thing enough to say that I looked like hell and I should quit my Nexus boyfriend if he left me like this. I told him it was already done and then took a long shower. It took me 10 minutes to get all the blood out from under my fingernails.

But then I felt London Aya getting physically attacked by two people trying to shut down his telepathy as well. I Portalled over--dressed, you pervs--and took them down, ripped the information of who they worked for and why they wanted Aya from their heads, knocked them out, left them to a surprised Aya to be restrained, Portalled to fucking Cardiff to steal out the records and recordings they had there and kill a technician, and Portal back for the two luckless bastards unfortunate to attack someone who belonged to me. (Yay, time-warping abilities of Portals!)

He wanted answers. Very Aya of him. I Portalled all of us off the street and into the hotel room we liked to get for his lessons. Fortunately for any innocents out there, nobody had the room at the time. I swear, if anybody had been in there, I would have defenestrated 'em if I didn't just melt their brains and toss 'em in a closet.

Eszett is dead. Nobody else has been able to scrape up the money and mojo to be as big as they were. But little organizations are operating under the radar now, and Aya's recently focused ability had come to their attention. The British Isles in particular have a lot of little talents, and now that Aya's little talent isn't amorphous and unconscious it's rising above the pack. They wanted it. They'd start looking at Schwarz soon if Brad got serious about taking higher profile gigs as what we really are or even if we just advertised Farf as a freak lightning thrower.

Aya figures this means more may be coming after him in the future, and he's probably right. I told him that that's why I stripped their surveillance center raw and intend to hand in the material and our two attackers to Brad and Farf for deep questioning. Aya demanded he get data as well, since he's in danger. I reminded him that Brad didn't give a rat's ass about him. He reminded me that I did. We argued a lot, and then we kissed for about three minutes, with passion and with tongue.

Poor Aya. He'd figured that all his passion had died a slow death as his Yohji had dragged him and their relationship through the mud years ago. He's with Ken now, but it's more because Ken loves him than because he feels anything other than some vague attachment to him. Being attracted like this to anyone, let alone me, is throwing him for a loop. I took advantage of his shock at his own actions to tell him that I'd give him a synopsis later. Then I Portalled away with the stooges to Chez Schwarz.

Farf looked very happy to get fresh meat to play with. Seeing him was... very difficult. I have to remember that he's him, not him. Being able to feel him makes a difference at least.

As I handed over the surveillance stuff and records and told Brad the lowdown, he looked like he was nearly getting hornier. Getting a challenge, having a one-up on an enemy, and seeing me become a more versatile operative in his employ now that I can Portal are all making him happier and more vital. I gave him that, and he knows it. I couldn't help getting a smile on my face watching him during that.


Yeah, everybody else is warring with Iron Man. I'll just stay on my couch with beer and munchies and watch from a distance.

Loose Ends

Feb. 26th, 2007 08:46 pm
tastes_of_honey: (Atrocity (recent))
I talked to Nagi about what I was up to, and he repeated his offer of letting me join up with his organization. I said I didn't want to start a war between him and Brad, which I don't, but I don't want my ass beholden to him either. London Aya's with Kryptonbrand in the US doing something anti-drug related or whatever the hell it is his fruity new team does, which is convenient for Brad and Farf not being able to get to him as easily, so I Portaled to him to let him know that I might be fleeing Schwarz soon and that Brad and Farf might come looking for me to interrogate about my whereabouts. His answer was something like, "As if I'd welcome them with open arms, you moron." So Aya's just fine.


Ichigo was LOL'd and I got to watch, sit back, laugh, eat popcorn, and meet Rukia.

When Tom Servo turned giant and asked which city he should destroy, I suggested Toronto.

Nightwing is doing Nexus sexuality studies, and I contributed. I'm always ready to help in the name of Science! (And Evil.)
tastes_of_honey: (Grr)
::Schu's eyes look a bit dazed, and he has a gauze pad taped to the side of his neck.::

Farfarello returned. My Farfarello. Or kind of not really my Farfarello, never has been.

I should watch what I wish for.

He tracked us down. Turns out he'd been living in some backwoods area of northern Ireland and had a five-year-old son who'd gotten run over and killed by a hit-and-run driver about two weeks ago. Farf tracked the man down and killed him slowly, painfully... and rather stupidly, because he had to run from the cops over it. Getting too emotional about a hit can do that, especially when you don't have teammates watching your back. His kind-of wife Sally blew up about the whole thing, they fought, and he killed her in his rage. Once his berserk cleared, he freaked the hell out.

After years of not bothering to send so much as a word to us, he showed up at our flat looking for us to fix things for him. Brad was trying to set up a pay system for disappearing the little indiscretion with the police near Sligo, probably involving Farf doing some jobs for us. Me, I fumed... then was assigned hospitality hostess duty to our splintered and staticky bundle of rage and grief.

Sally had let him kill a little now and then but prior to the past two weeks he hadn't wallowed in mass bloody murder for quite some time. I found a slum area in London and let him go, watching his back and doing some cleanup all the while. All part of the walking-the-Farf duties I used to have. He invited me to join in with him as I sometimes did before but I refused and held my mind and self back. No way I intended to get drawn into him while he was like this or while I was angry at him.

Eventually he realized that and asked what the fuck was wrong with me. I actually went Animal Kingdom on his ass and said something about how he had been a wolf but then found a dog bitch and abandoned his pack to try to be domesticated, but when that utterly failed he came back to us to clean up his mess. More amused than annoyed, he asked me what I was, and I said I was a coyote.

He'd said that Schwarz's members had always used each other, so why should that change now? I could just vaguely hear his mind wondering whether he should rejoin us or go his own way.

He actually thought he'd share my bed, the arrogant fucker. He'd never spent the entire night in my bed before, and he sure as hell wasn't now. I told him he could sleep on the living room couch and be thankful I didn't put a rope around his neck and tie him to a post in the yard.

I woke up pressed against his morning wood, with one of his hands down the front of my silk pajama bottoms toying with me and the other under my Henley over my stomach, toying with my navel piercing. ([livejournal.com profile] cursed_bird, I knew the difference immediately.) I yelled, and he claimed that when he opened the door to my bedroom last night I told him to get in bed with me, as if anything I say while at least half-asleep means anything. (I read that he actually had missed me over the years.) He bit the side of my neck and said that I always liked it eventually. I told him that I may be a slut and like the stimulation, but there's no damned way I'm going to be his rebound fuck and plush toy. I refused to be used like that, and there was no way I wanted to be this close to his mind when he's even more of a mess than he used to be.

Brad came in with his gun drawn to break up our throwdown before we got to inflict more than a few bruises on each other and told me to get out for a while. I hope he schools Farf's ass.

I don't know what I hope.

#1 Crush

Jan. 22nd, 2007 04:12 pm
tastes_of_honey: (Helping Hand)
Aya contacted me for more psi training and met me in a small hotel room of his choice, glaring at me and daring me to say something lewd about it. I disappointed him by being completely professional. Guy's been in the business for over 10 years now, seeing all kinds of weird and fucked-up shit, and you can still upset him by playing against his expectations. Other than that, he looked happier than the last time I'd seen him, and I got a feeling it wasn't just from losing the perpetual headache.

The room had a small table with two chairs, and he sat at one and head-gestured me to use the other one. At the table, not sitting on the bed. Either he thought I was a desperate pervert or he feared his own reactions. I couldn't tell yet without digging because he had a credible shield up. It figured that he'd be able to pick up shielding quickly and well. Nothing I couldn't break through, but I'm a sun to his candle flame and I want to encourage, not discourage, him in his training.

I set my hands along the sides of his face and told him he'd have to open up for me to work with him, so he let me into his head. Nice work too in being selective instead of dropping all his shields like dropping his trousers. As I directed him on to use his small telepathy to reach out and read people I read him a bit. If I couldn't do two or three things at once I'd be confined to a bed and need people to feed and clean me. I read from Aya that being able to block and use his ability had already made a difference in his life. As much as it kind of turned my stomach to see, Aya had been relating to Ken on a deeper level lately and their sex life had improved. Ken felt... warm to Aya now. It stunned Aya and totally pleased Ken-ken, not that the jock had any idea of what was behind it. (Ken-ken had really said, "I need you, the god of death, Aya" when they first met up again as members of the new team. Who said Siberian doesn't have some cockeyed sense of romance? Hmph. I have never had someone call me a god of death so adoringly.)

Finally we were done for the session, and there we were leaning into each other across a small table, close enough to be almost breathing on each other, staring into each other's eyes, the air charged with sexual tension. Yeah, some of you are laughing at my delusions, but you didn't see him then and you don't know how some of the more intimate telepathic training can hit people. It's like how some people develop crushes on their shrink but far stronger. Some Rosenkreuz trainers used to get really evil with this.

He colored, shook his head, and stood in a rush, then as he left thanked me curtly and said he'd contact me again, grabbing his coat and katana in a fast and graceful move as he flew out the door. He's so pretty when he's angry/scared.... Hell, he's pretty usually.

If you're wondering what he looks like, here's a fuzzy picture of him as a flowerboy at his cover job with the rest of his new team, with Kenchen hanging on him. Fruity bunch, ja? Oh, and the little blond is a boy. (Are Yuki and Michel ever gonna get taller?)


Jan. 8th, 2007 09:34 pm
tastes_of_honey: (Young and Pissed)
A lot of people have had a new year start recently and many of them made resolutions. A lot of them probably made the easy, cliché resolutions like "Lose weight and exercise more," when by 4 January you can see the gyms already getting emptier.

But you don't need a mandatory cut-off like the start of a new year to actually evaluate your life, see things you want to change, and start trying to change them. There are things, people, and ideas you may have outgrown or that have become toxic to you, or you may have outdated conceptions about things, people, or ideas.

I'm evaluating.


Jan. 5th, 2007 11:59 pm
tastes_of_honey: (See how I befriend you!)
Poor Ichigo needs to be protected from himself again. He doesn't know how fortunate he is that I've taken a charitable interest in him. Jessica Rabbit is convinced that I'm the decent sort of guy who cares more about a woman's brains than her bodacious body. Most of that is true. There's the possibility that blankets get a voyeuristic thrill from feeling the people under them. At least that's the impression I got from talking to Yarn. I rarely have yarn that answers back.


Schu-Schu's been a bit unsteady lately, folks. Unanchored. You might have noticed or not. It's been a combination of a lot of things.

I'm not adjusting as quickly to the move to London as I should be. I dunno if it's from being old--in Eszett's reckoning I'm 33 now, not that I necessarily trust that--or from spending so much time in Japan in the last 11 years on and off. I got too acclimated to things and the culture and language and automatically standing out from the crowd when I let myself be visible. You know what an attention whore I can be. Sometimes I actually touch Aya or Ken's minds just to feel something more familiar. I mean, Ken? That's pathetic. I'm trying to keep it all from Brad but he sees it a bit so he's shifting back and forth from the stern asshole he used to be to the more concerned partner he's had to become to keep me around, and it's freaking both of us out. My Nagi wanted to show up to help me out, but he'd be a familiar taste to hide in right now, and I have to be more ruthless with myself.

Farf hasn't been around much. I really should have expected that, considering. It's not his fault.

I met [livejournal.com profile] killwithmymind's Schuldig, who has really been a gigantic disappointment. I know he's much younger but fuck I am sure I wasn't that dumb. There's just no way.

And then there's London Aya, who's kind of a positive but still mindbreaking thing. cut for those who don't want to bother with a long bit about me and London Aya )
tastes_of_honey: (Glow from Hell)
Mmmmmfuck. I am so high.... I saw my Aya from a distance today, but more than that I felt him... and he felt me a bit.

I saw him sweeping in front of the shop wearing tight white jeans under the apron. His daywear fashion sense has really changed over the years. Then again, with the way Kryptonbrand dresses him and his entire team all super-kink and with those creepy masks that don't even hide their identities, I guess he couldn't continue being dowdy.

I actually wanna touch his mask while he's wearing it to see if it achieves skin temperature if he wears it long enough....

Back to the narrative. I set myself up in an alley not far away and used a compact's mirror to watch him because why waste energy? I wanted to feel him out without having to do a notice-me-not at the same time. And if you're wondering why I carry a compact I encourage you to make guesses. You remember how I said that people from the same universe have a similar maker's mark or fingerprint? Fuck, when I reached out with my mind to him we resonated at the same frequency. My knees nearly buckled. I love my Nexus posse, don't get me wrong, but this Aya was mine, he remembered things I had done in detail even if he did put an evil and delusional spin on them, and... he was mine.

Seeing Nagi again wasn't the same because he'd become a part of me again as soon as Brad and I had gotten close enough to Tokyo. Radio Free Schwarz. We'd reestablished enough of a strong link that I can faintly feel him even in London. I hadn't seen or felt Aya in years, but he still tasted a little of me and now I had the inter-universal experience to differentiate him from [livejournal.com profile] just_a_murder even beyond that Aya not being the right age or knowing everything I've done. The flavor was different.

Poor London Aya-kun, all he had left were his obligations. He was content enough for a guy who'd gotten everything he'd wanted, even if none of it was something he got to keep, and had no dreams left to take their place. He was cold ashes, smiling faintly all the time because then people would think he was okay. He had his obligation to keep away from his sister for the sake of her safety and purity, his obligation to make sure Yuki was safe and okay, his obligation to his new team, his obligation to look out for Ken and get subtle vengeance on Chloe for every racist remark.... He's all about other people again, still, but the passion's been killed right out of him.

My Aya, and internally I went all "Daddy's come to fix it and make it all better!" And then I had to internally smack myself so I squeed a little less like a flower shop fangirl. Mustn't rush over and break the Aya.

Then I felt a stirring in the planes, small, so small, tasting so familiar. A low-level telepath would never have noticed it. It was Aya. He'd sensed something wrong and this tiny little bit of psionic power in him tried to look for it. He'd never done that before! I never even saw the potential in him the last time we met. Then again, he'd been so repressed every other time, and it's been a while.

I couldn't help reaching out to mentally caress those little baby tendrils. In my little mirror I watched him shiver, then walk emphatically inside.

Fuck, I'm so excited!
tastes_of_honey: (Default)
That Yakuza thing blew up real big. Literally.

I was all casual sitting on my bed watching some wacky game show where folks were abusing themselves in ridiculous contests for yen when my window smashed and something hit the floor. I went from "Ha, Velcro wall and outfits" to "Explosive device!" in about three seconds. I sped up, picked it up, and lobbed it back through the window as I hard as I could, then ran like hell outside and closed the bedroom door behind me. I heard the BOOM when I was a step away from Brad's bedroom door. He was already packing his laptop and had his guns on. He tossed me a pair of house slippers since my bare feet were bleeding into everything. Fucking glass from the smashed window. I had small glass shards in my feet and my right hand. I put them on and shot him a "Did you foresee this?" look that he answered with an annoyed scowl, which plainly meant "No." He shot me a "Work it, Schu" look, so I told him there were five mobsters in the lobby, two at the exit for the parking garage, and three coming up in the elevators. Hey, Tokyo is fucking big and chock full of people making noise. I'm not constantly checking our building just in case. Even Brad's paranoia isn't big enough to have me doing that 24/7.

He was ready to storm the elevators, but I told him I might have another way. I carefully opened the door to my room since the knob wasn't hot yet. Would be soon though, from how my room was blasted and catching fire in numerous places. I'd thrown the thing far, but it had evidently packed a hell of a kick. I took me and Brad through the Portal I'd found in and anchored to my bedroom and took us out through the Portal in the parking garage. It's not near the car but close enough. Brad got this look on his face, but I told them there weren't many of these around our area--unfortunately true for my world--and that it took strength out of me, which is kinda true but more likely when I did a lot more than this. He'd take advantage of my new talent to my death if I let him. He gets so overexcited about new skills.

We'd left all kinds of shit behind us all over Europe, Asia, and the Americas over the years. It's just stuff. I had a hell of a lot of stuff in our Tokyo apartment due to us being there for years, but my life's more important, thanks. Besides, my pretty new top was neatly stowed in a bag on the floor in the back of the car. We'd already packed a lot of our essentials in the car. I got my guns out from under the seat. Brad saw me bleeding so he drove while I had a gun in my left hand--I learned how to shoot with my left hand as a wee Schu--and picked off the Yakuza at the garage exit. Brad wanted our car kept as nice as possible even now that he only ran over one corpse. Me, I would have backed over them.

Nagi flew in over our car, so we let him in, and being Nagi he pulled all the glass out of me with telekinesis and bandaged me up nicely too. Sweet. The Radio Free Schwarz link remains, though Farfarello's too far out of range to work for him. Nagi knew we'd become too hot to stay in Japan, but he said nothing, just squeezed my shoulder with his hand, which I squeezed back with my left hand. Brad was already calling in several plane tickets to different places under many different names to keep anyone following us guessing.

Of course, we couldn't leave without making our displeasure very clear. If we had to be too hot for Japan, let's really earn it.

We killed 100 of the Yakuza, including two of the higher-ups, with a few explosions. There's a high for you, though the comedown can be toxic. I feel a little sick now, actually. Too much at once, too rich, too... much. It's like gorging yourself at a French restaurant.

I gave Nagi a big hug and a friendly grope at the airport, promising him I'd visit. Brad let me sleep on the plane.

I'll miss Tokyo, to my surprise, but we're in London now! Brad is really trying to get me to stick around more.


tastes_of_honey: (Default)

August 2013



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