M O N S T E R .

soft angst starters!

i’m still here! somehow. anyways, i’m off work tomorrow so expect some activity!

that being said, here’s a reminder in regards to my current threads;

i owe

@puritycrest​

i’m owed

@deadlock-shot​ // x

@bluelightningswordsman​ // x

@riceballhonda​ // x

@deadlock-shot

“I hate violence,” he says through gritted teeth as he then proceeds to throw some schmuck out of the club in a smooth, swift motion. One of the schmuck’s buddies takes a risk by jumping at Shizuo, but his feeble attempt is quickly thwarted with a prompt fist to the face.

“And I especially hate,” he continues with a harsh growl, “bastards like you who make me resort to it!” Nursing his face, the idiot stumbles toward the schmuck to help him up ( they fall a couple of times, and Shizuo would have at least smiled if he wasn’t so damned pissed off ) before they disappear into the night.

And that’s when Shizuo decides to call it quits. The Ace of Clubs has always been a problem for him - especially on Saturday nights which his boss knows he hates working. Still, money is money until his patience runs thin and then nothing matters anymore.

He’s stalking down the avenue in the dead of night - well, it’s past midnight and yet the district still seems to be up and booming - when subconsciously his hands dig in his vest pocket to pull out his cigarettes. Smoking usually helps calm him down.

Except when he goes to fetch his lighter, there’s nothing there...and now his anger has spiked because maybe - just maybe - that schmuck or idiot got him so worked up that it fell out of his pocket. That’s a logical explanation, isn’t it?

Trying best to calm his nerves so he wouldn’t freak out again, he puts the cigarette away and hurries to find an alternative. Luckily there’s a little bar up ahead that doesn’t look too crowded. If anything, most of the denizens are partying elsewhere.

The door leading into the small establishment jingles with the bell placed atop of it. Like Shizuo assumed it was dead except for a few older gentlemen seated on some stools and a few other less than notable people scattered about.

He slides into an empty booth and orders some tea to ( hopefully ) mellow him out. But, his nerves are still on end as he stupidly keeps replaying the scene over and over again.

@bluelightningswordsman

If one good thing came out of suddenly appearing in Wonderland was that there was no Izaya Orihara to be found. Which was a blessing in itself. The last thing Shizuo wanted as he navigated the oddness that was Wonderland was to do so while dealing with that self absorbed sociopath dead set on making his life miserable.

Thankfully so far the residents of Wonderland bore no resemblance in either appearance or personality when it came to that flea. Most of the residents of Wonderland were bizarre in their own way, but they weren’t necessarily deranged...or hellbent on psychologically torturing anyone, at least not that Shizuo could confirm. The people he had come across were fairly decent...if a bit odd, but so was the magic of Wonderland!

Yes, the magic of Wonderland...a force to be reckoned with. As fate should see it, while Izaya Orihara wasn’t physically present as of the current date of July 14, 20XX, his embodiment was so to say.

There was something peculiar about the blue haired individual who sat on the opposite side of the little coffee shop Shizuo had ducked into after a freak shower hit town. He couldn’t begin to tell you why he suddenly averted his attention to the young man, but much like a kettle whistling on a burner, something inside Shizuo boiled.

Was it his hair? No, definitely not. That look in his eyes? Probably but he needed the guy to actually look at him to confirm. Or maybe it was the aura he gave off...like he was better than everyone in the cafe and he knew it. Whatever it was, he supposed, had inadvertently caused the mug in his hands to burst and for hot coffee to spill all over his hands and wrists.

@puritycrest

“She’s just a kid.”

“A kid whose revenue can buy me a back up yacht!” How humble, he thought bitterly but kept his tongue as the man went on. “Listen, Heiwajima, her manager specifically asked for you. Now I’m not one to disappoint, and I know deep down inside you aren’t either, so do us both a favor and say--”

"Yes.”

“--ye... Oh. Oh, that’s great! Better than great. Here, let me give you your briefing...” It wasn’t long before he handed Shizuo a packet aptly named ‘M. Tachikawa’ in big, bold letters at the top. There was no way he was reading any of this. It didn’t matter how many packets the greedy bastard threw at him, Shizuo never once read a single page. He found it best to take care of his charges by engaging with them than reading about them.

“She’s quite a handful, Mr. Heiwajima,” his boss informed, “but I have no doubt in my mind you’ll make me proud. Now, please be on your way! They’re waiting for you.”

Shooing him out the door, packet and all, the first thing Shizuo went for was the trashcan just beside his boss’s secretary’s desk. It fell inside the can with a dull thump and then, just like that, he was heading toward the lobby.

It didn’t matter how difficult his boss thought she might have been, or how difficult she thinks she is, Shizuo was prepared. He’s dealt with worse - and he’s not even considering the idiots he’s had to deal with back home. He’s fully equipped to take on whatever his company has thrown at him, dramatic hissy fits and all.

The elevator door leading to the lobby eventually opens and when he steps out, his eyes lock with a young girl seated comfortably on one of the sofas. There’s another man wearing shades and a black suit who, upon seeing Shizuo, takes his leave immediately.

@riceballhonda

Purple, blue, green, orange, yellow... Seriously, what the hell was the difference? He’s been in this godforsaken place for over two hours trying to decide what flavor, what color, would best fit the situation. And to make matters worse it wasn’t as if he had any prior experience to go off of to make the decision a bit easier for him.

Nope. The world was really out to get him no matter where he was or what he was doing.

“Sir, can I, uhm, help you...?” Now they’ve elected a meek looking woman to help remedy the situation, but he knows she can’t possibly help him. She can’t read into the mind of others...no matter if they’re human or otherwise.

“I’m good, thanks,” his reply is short because his temper is getting there. Not surprisingly the woman quickly shuffles away and he’s left all alone once again. If he just wasn’t so damn picky then maybe...

He’s so transfixed on the display in front of him that, from the corner of his eye, he sees movement and although he doesn’t know who has walked his way, he assumes it’s yet another employee delegated by their coworkers to get this brooding man out of the establishment before he makes another kid cry.

Best to swallow what little pride he had left and get this over with.

“Excuse me, but I was wondering what kind of...” and his words die on his lips as he notices that it isn’t an employee he’s talking to, oh no, but just some random young girl instead.

‘ello! i’m brit, 23, use she/her pronouns, and i should definitely be in bed right about now!! but instead i’m posting a starter w/ a cap of 3.

some quick notes: 

if anyone ever wants to plot a thread w/ me that’s totally fine!! hmu.

i love pre-establish relationships. shizuo def needs some.

i’m a super shy and awkward sack of potatoes. sorry in advance for every conversation we’ll ever have moving forward!

send me pictures of sharks and we’ll be best friends, okay?