#foolinthefog

dont make a mess of our apartment partner-san

Firo let out a yawn as he exited the apartment building. He’d felt a little stir crazy just sitting in that apartment, any more bored and he would probably start taking the place apart. No doubts about it. Well it wasn’t as bad as Alcatraz was. At least he didn’t get to find out what solitary was like full term. But Jeez, he really felt the cabin fever setting in. Heck, he’d even be willing to contact the idiot with his puns and that would be more interesting than sitting around admiring wallpaper. He didn’t have enough to hit the casinos, maybe he’d offer to play bouncer again for all it was worth.

Firo was off in his own thoughts for a bit before noticing that someone was on the same road as him. This time of day the roads were deserted so it was pretty awkward to just keep walking quietly. He pegged the guy at about seventeen or eighteen. Definitely taller, probably a cake-eater to some extent, certainly he was handsome enough for the bit. He figured it’d probably be best to keep on walking and just ignore the guy. But he was feeling a bit feisty from boredom.

“ Leader - Sama ” ♪ [ hate you -- 0:30 - 0:38 ]

What my muse thinks of the way yours texts: Makes it easier for him to understand, since he doesn’t use too much shorthand.

How quickly my muse responds to your texts: Whenever he gets around to it; sometimes quickly, sometimes it takes him a few hours.

How often our muses text: Casually; Sho usually engages it asking him questions by using pictures since he’s pretty illiterate.

How often our muses call: More often; almost always Sho in need of an answer to how to get somewhere or what something says.

Does my muse purposefully miss calls from yours: No, but it’s usually Minazuki who answers.

Last text to your muse:

Send me “BATTLE!”, and I’ll fill out the following for you if I was going against you.

VS.

         “ Well, I’m off, then.  I’ll be back later. ”

         As odd as it was to be informing someone of his comings and goings, it seemed to be a common courtesy now that he happens to be living with someone.  Someone he doesn’t really particularly care for in the slightest, but since he isn’t quite ready to go revealing Souji to Izaya just yet, it’s best not to walk out without saying anything and enticing him to follow.

          Adjusting the bags in his hand, he opts to throw it behind his back and carry it with his wrist resting against his shoulder, much like how Doujima usually carried his jacket.  It’s more comfortable that way, he decides.  Though he wouldn’t be needing them, he shoved an extra set of clothes in the bag -- another deter against Izaya, and also to cover the leftover dinner he brought.  He knows enough that Orihara is a nosy son of a bitch, and if he makes it like he’s off to see a woman, there will be no questions.

          A quick glance to his watch, and then Adachi is off, shuffling down the balcony to get down to the floor beneath and scout out Souji’s room number.  This place was way too big for this kind of shit on a daily basis, that was for sure.  He’d have to learn to trust his roomie around his little pet eventually.  What a shame.

To: Partner Subject: Ugh.