#jokerest

ᴍʏ ᴍᴜsᴇ’s ʀᴇᴀᴄᴛɪᴏɴ - ▄ = telling them a joke .

He still finds John a bit unnerving at times. Some of the things he says, the nuances between his sentences leading Hanzo to believe many different things about any given statement the man makes. So, the joke very nearly passes over Hanzo’s head and for the first ten seconds proceeding, the archer merely blinks at Mr. John Doe. Once the expectant grin on the other man’s face strikes him, Hanzo hums, glancing away.

DESCRIPTION: Not as ironically good as I thought it'd be; two out of five stars. Possibly better when high.

Keys chattered among one another as the newly appointed employee of Hive Video archived his half-assed review of a movie he rented the night before into a computer two years from its pension. Letters appeared almost three seconds after he input the command and as his hands remained idle on the keyboard, his last sentence sauntered to completion. A palm reaching his chin was narrated by an audible sigh as tired eyes glanced around an empty store. He nearly spent two hours of updating movie subscriptions with his own commentary; something he would be reluctant to do if the other employees ever used the system, which they didn’t.

He’d have to be an idiot to work at the same sort of job as his last, but what else was there? Dave lacked patience and social skills to properly function in a high volume clientele environment and he had no tremendous skills past hunting Lovecraftian horrors and otherworldly garbage monsters, and that was debatable. Aside from that; he couldn’t handle change. One consistency would be enough for him to hold onto the last shred of sanity he had. His sight shifted to the door as a familiar chime rang out, attention landing on his first customer today. 

frankly, he wasn’t a fan of dancing, but he welcomed the attention of beautiful young women who tried pulling him onto the dance floor. ( i am definitely not drunk enough to dance yet, i’m actually too shy to get out there right now would you give me a little? ) though it stroked his ego just the right way, deidara found himself taking a break in the solace of the men’s bathroom. thankfully, the bathrooms were upscale enough to include a sitting area. you know the kind.

with no inclination to go back out there just yet, deidara found himself people watching the different men going in and out. he made note to avoid those who didn’t wash their hands and those who took especially long in one of the stalls,  but their gross habits didn’t stop him from jeering at them on their way out. 

eventually, he spotted a man too green for his liking, washing his hands with no idea of the long strand of toilet paper stuck to the sole of his shoe. at this point, deidara had had his fun and took pity on the poor guy.

Blacksad eyes that sweater up and down, was this man seriously intending on going out in public wearing that... thing? Especially after acknowledging how terrible it looked. 

“I’ve got a strict no photos, no signatures policy-- not unless you’re shelling out for it.” The latter Roman added almost as an afterthought, the corners of his lips threatening to sport a faint smirk. So it was here that a tap of his cigar yielded an ounce of ash, flattened beneath his sole as he approached the stranger in question.

“Still,” He mused aloud, elongating the word far past its expiration, "seeing as you’ve gone and taken it already...let’s have a look-see, shall we?”