#elf writes stuff

The nasty's sylveon walks between his feet, purring and scratching its head on his legs. That little shit, using his pokemon to assist in his escapes. 

'He really doesn't care about you, huh?' He mutters, picking up the sylveon -- whose fur looks smooth had a shimmering quality to it, and nails that were recently trimmed -- and rethinks his words. The sylveon did look a little.... chubby. 

It looks at him, blinking bright eyes at him. A playful bark is his only warning, and the pokemon slips out of his arms and runs off, approaching the edge of the roof. 

'Hey! It's dangerous!' The no-longer child shouts, panicking. Shinichi regrets not bringing out his audino; Ranpo would probably be able to calm the stupid thief's pokemon and this would never have happened. 'Wait for me!' 

He takes off after it, feet pattering loudly. His heart drops, probably out of his chest, when it jumps of the ledge, ribbons dancing in the wind. It looks... almost mischievous. 

'Amor!' The thief laughs, gliding up into sight, cuddling into the evil sylveon; 'didn't I tell you to behave in front of Meitantei?' A giant pigeot, pure white -- albinism? -- swoops into the air, covering them both in darkness. 

It's a trick, he thinks. 

'Too late,' the thief whispers, gloved fingers brushing Shinichi's earlobes delicately.

Kaito KID has won again, gaining hold of the night's heist in a simple sleight of hand. 

Shinichi glares, 'you used your sylveon to lure me here!' He accuses, 'how dirty!' 

KID grins, malicious. 'But why would I? Amor simply misses you, Meitantei!' The evil thing trills, barking at him, wrapping a ribbon around Shinichi's wrist. 'See!' 

Shinichi's glare worsens. He really wished he brought Ranpo, or his newly caught Jigglypuff. Another ribbon wraps around KID's sleeves, bright blue against pure white. 

'Vee,' the pokemon purrs, butting its owner's head in an attempt to pull them together. 

'What?' KID's confused, 'no! Amor, we're not gonna-- The taskforce... ' He trails off, weak to the pokemon's pleas. 

'Wait.' Shinichi finds himself talking, staring at the obvious attempt of matchmaking. 'What.'

Barris feels a tremor run through him as he shakily steps onto the ice. Oh, oh no -- he feels the ground beneath him slide out of control, suddenly a beast in its own right. Heaving slightly, his grip on the sidebars don't soften, skin bruising at the added pressure. 

Some part of his brain, which was all of his brain, wants to kill all its brain cells and maybe leave him to rot in the rink. 

Why had he lied and said he was a great skater?

Magda's laugh echoes from the other side of the rink, where Blackgloves was twirling her around gracefully (and dangerously, he's sure that if Magda actually let go of the man's hand, she'd get into a freak accident). A bubbling well of jealousy sits, grumpy, at the bottom of his stomach, and he sulks at the joy radiating from the blonde's very being. 

Oh, yea. That's why. He takes the next step onto the rink, ready to storm over to the raven and steal Magda away, his speech on safety and charming lines at the tip of his tongue. Letting go of the handrails, he takes the next step forward --- 

and ends up face down on the artificial ice floor.

Juven's obnoxious chortle greets him in the worst way possible. 

'Great going, old man!' He cackles, face red with laugh lines creasing his forehead. Slapping a hand onto the side of the bed, Juven tries to calm himself down, taking deep, broken breaths as his glee dies down. 

After several moments of heavy breathing, Juven finally offers Barris a hot towel. 'For your nose,' he explains with a croak, eyes teary with amusement. Barris glares, hot shame running through his veins, snatching the towel and slamming it directly onto his nose. 

Howling, Barris flings the offending cloth aside, trying to clutch his nose without feeling like an utter fool. 

Juven collapses, knees giving way into mass hysterics.

Barris' eyes swim with water -- not tears, those aren't painful tears -- when Magda enters the room. Concern floods her face as she takes in the bleeding, red, bent nose and Juven's crumpled form. 

'Uh,' she blanches, 'do you.... do you want me to call a nurse?' She asks meekly, hiding behind the sliding doors of the hospital. Juven takes a deep gulp of air, sounding totally like a vacuum cleaner, wheezing like a whistle. 'Please, don't.' 

Magda's eyes flit between them both, 'uhh.... Mr Barris...?' 

Barris thoroughly wants the bed to suddenly snap in half and break his spine. Maybe if he pressed the button of the controls fast enough, his wish will come true. 

Sniffling (oh dear Heavens, why did he do that?! The feeling of blood sliding back down his windpipe makes him gag and cough, sputtering even more blood onto his hospital gown, which blooms purple in the blue paper dress) and wiping away the blood -- he's sure he looked like a serial killer, oh my Heavens, he shakes his head. 

'Ms Magda,' he begins, dying internally at the sound of his voice thick with unuse, 'if you call a nurse, could you bring a coroner in, as well? I'm afraid both Juven and I are at the end of the line.' 

Magda blinks, concern sliding off to reveal a blank canvas, 'eh?'

Magda exits the room in a daze, swaying in the nonexistent wind. 

Barris wonders if it's alright to leave her alone like that. Shaking his head (which causes him to cough up the blood he sniffed back in previously), he tries to get his nose to stop bleeding. 

Then, he'll deal with his self-esteem. 

Clearing up a nose clogged with congealed blood is awful, but finally being able to breathe, (was this the liberation their forefathers mentioned? To be able to breathe in stale, medicinal air?) to be able to feel his nose (and the bone, eugh), and touch his face without wanting to split his head from his body -- it felt good. 

He applies the hot towel (slightly dirtier) onto his nose, moving carefully to not irritate the injury further, and brings out the portable tray, situating it a perfect centimetre away from him. Then, he slams his head as lightly as he could onto it. 

But, as it turned out, Barris' luck ran out for today, and his nose took most of the hit. 

It's final -- Barris doesn't want a nose anymore.

The doors of his room slide open as his head shoots up from the intense pain. Scrunching his face up in absolute misery, and pain, always pain, he tries to ignore the world in favour of his darned nose. 

He groans, like an unoiled door opening for the first time in a million years, lamenting his loss of facial sensations. A higher pitched, younger girl giggles at his predicament. 

'Barbara,' he pleads, 'kill me; please.' His niece barks, presumably clutching her chest and muffling her shrieks in her scarf. Why does he have such awful family members? What did he ever do wrong? (Well, what he did wrong was letting his dumb Monkey Brain take over, that's what.) 

Boots clack noisily as Barbara climbs onto the bed and helps him relax his face. 'You look like one of those weird stone statues, the ones with no bodies and only a giant head,' Barbara giggles, pressing a cold towel onto his nose to freeze the nerve cells. 

Moaning like a beached whale, Barris agrees. He'd much rather be a statue than alive right now. 

'Kill me,' he begs, opening crusty eyes to reveal two blurry figures. Rubbing his eyes of tears and..... other....crusty things, they sharpen into Barbara.... 

and..... 

Miss.....

Magda....

(Later, he would beg his brother to kill him; only to be chased around with a chainsaw.)

Extra:

Blackgloves is curled up into a ball, shivering with tears streaming down his face. Juven's knocked out cold, snoring like a tractor in the adjacent chair. Slamming his fists into the wood floors repeatedly, the raven seemed to imitate a court judge (probably corrupt). Head suddenly coming up for air, Blackgloves looked like he'd been stung by hornets, face purpling and sweaty. 

'Amazing,' he breathes. hair a crow's nest, 'you're superb, Sakan!' And... down he goes, once more, into the land of No Return. 

Barris rolls his eyes, trying to swim in his own misery. 

'Mr Barris,' Magda politely catches his attention, eyes mischievous, 'I could teach you how to ice skate, if you'd like.' 

(She doesn't mention at a price, but he knows it's there.) 

(The price he pays.....)