tastes_of_honey: (Hmph)
::Schuldig's two guns are fully loaded and easily within his reach on his holster setup, which has more ammo attached. His coat is lined with Kevlar, and his mental shields are improved and up. He's as ready to go as he can ever be.::
tastes_of_honey: (Fire)
Gojyo offered to help me with my little problem, and I told him thank you but I didn't think it would make a difference.

My future may not be clear to me, but it's also not clear to anyone else so far. The card reading made sense in a lot of other ways, though. I wonder what the ace of Fire and the ace of Hell might be about....

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.)


Feb. 20th, 2007 10:49 pm
tastes_of_honey: (Fire)
::Schuldig Portals away, then comes back for a rest on his couch and to write notes. After a while, he does the same thing again. And again.::

::If you looked at the paper you'd see that his handwriting varies quite a bit. Some of the things written include:

Cerulean Portal: Rather infamous me already there. Not a good idea.

Vinegar Portal: World of shrimp! Too fucking weird. Plus, everything's underwater.

Leafy Summer Portal: Maybe.

Blood Portal: Talents enslaved there. No fucking way.

::Sometimes he sits, shaking, for a while with his knees up to his chest and his face resting on them.::


Feb. 19th, 2007 11:26 pm
tastes_of_honey: (Hell)
::Schuldig smells strongly of burnt things, which has been the usual lately, which is part of the problem. He looks high and a bit sick.::

I'm in trouble. I feel clearer and more me here, for now, but if I go back I don't know if....

I'm not objective anymore, they're not objective....

I don't want to leave them. Even now.

::lies down on his comfy couch and breathes deeply, waiting for Farfarello's influence to seep out::
tastes_of_honey: (Schu Bangs)
::Schuldig smells of burnt hair, something like roasted pork, cigarettes, gunpowder, metal, and ozone. If you had to describe how he looks like he's feeling, "afterglow" might fit, but he's still capable of thought.::

With Farf back, Schwarz is a team instead of a couple again, and it's leaving the three of us off-balance, stuck between old habits and more recent behavior models. We're trying to figure out how much Schwarz should shift to accommodate Farf, especially since he hasn't committed to being back for good. The more often I get what I wanted without it being how I wanted it, the more I believe in a vengeful god.

Stuck in patterns of behavior you know are stupid and self-destructive? I've been there. Sometimes I am there. Then again, I'm far from alone in that.

Ichigo watched that thing about Charlie and the Candy Mountain and then complained about his brain cracking. That boy tortures himself so well, but I feel compelled to help anyway.

Florist/assassins? They may be more common than you think. As much as that may break everybody's brain.

[livejournal.com profile] man_of_means claims that February 12 is his birthday. So happy birthday, Greed. Your money is the same color as everyone else's.
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.


tastes_of_honey: (Default)

August 2013



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