#bb ic

Aoba had had his fair share of fun, now it was his turn. The rides didn't interest Sly, he dodged around screaming kids with an annoyed look down at the munchkin eye level of whatever child happened to nearly run into his legs -- who even wanted to procreate? It just meant more annoyances, more things to grow up to join sides and die in the war. Really, Sly had joined it because it was fun, it was a purpose in a monotonous life of swapping existences with someone far too nice for this world.

He lowered the gun after knocking down the targets at the shooting range, setting it down on the bench with a clank of the chain that had them bolted into the stall -- best to be safe than sorry, he guessed. He accepted the small green stuffed rabbit, stared at it and then shoved it into his duffle bag alongside the other prizes he'd won. He zipped it up, concealing the various cheap toys he had no idea what to do with and walked away to find something else to do.

Maybe Hook a duck? Nah, that was lame and just full of plushie prizes and lollipop runner-up prizes. He let his hand rest on his stomach when it gave a rumble and headed over to the food stalls, finding the sickly sweet smell of spinning candyfloss to be what piqued his interest the most and he impatiently joined the line. Candyfloss, he wanted candyfloss and the guy in front of him was taking too much time over not a hell of a lot.

Blood had a metallic tang to it that got up his nose, though he couldn't say he disliked it. He could inhale and feel that he'd done a good job, he could inhale and immerse more into the sea of blood around in on the bigger jobs -- He could inhale and realise he belonged. Generally, he only let Aoba back out when he'd gotten rid of the evidence of what he'd done, since though Aoba himself had enough guts to stick out being /thrown/ into the mafia, he knew he took issue with knowing what went on during the black spots.

Sly called it downtime, Aoba called it lost moments.

There were a lot of things that Otoya had lost in this city; his parents, his home, his friends and a flurry of adults who had fostered him and then sent him back when they thought that things were getting too dangerous for a child. It was idiotic but a lot of the time the adults believed that the orphanage was safer for children than the private family homes -- Technically true, but shattered dreams and broken families weren't a safe thing for children either. Otoya had vowed the day he had reached an age where he was too old to be adopted to never leave the children alone, to be their sense of family so they wouldn't pine and miss what they might not ever get; a home was what you make it, even if the family and furniture was mismatched, second hand and worn down. Today he'd taken some money out of the budget with Hayato and taken the elder kids to the carnival, leaving the toddlers and babies back at the orphanage with the other helpers so that the kids could see what a safe, fun atmosphere was like.

They had a little money each to spend on rides and games, Otoya had the money for their sugary, junk food dinners in his pocket. The one thing he had begged of his boyfriend when they'd discussed Otoya taken the children out on one of Tokiya's secret visits to Otoya and Hayato's apartment was that Tokiya come too -- he'd even employed the puppy dog eyes and woeful voice that he knew the dark haired man couldn't resist.

After that he'd made him pinky swear that he would come.

Which was why Otoya was stood beside him, his hand firmly held in Tokiya's hidden against the folds of their jackets so prying eyes wouldn't see while they watched the children have a go at the ring toss booth. "...Thanks for coming along, Tokiya.." His voice was gentle, full of affectionate feelings as red eyes glanced over to the elder male, his fingers squeezing his hand a little to reaffirm his words. "I'm really happy." How could he not be?