#ofgourmet

          It was time.

          The evening had come to grip all of GOAT and their comrades, evening defense shifts were up and luckily neither Naki nor Shuu were on those teams tonight. That could change come tomorrow, but for now there was no way in hell Naki was going to not take advantage of this lucky situation.           Tonight he was clean --- From head to toe, everything was clean. He had bathed himself, crawled back underground for a spare suit that had been tucked away from the suits operations, just a TOUCH too big, but not enough to be an issue, not enough to look bad.            His hair was slicked back neatly, and after a lot of rubble digging he had even found a perfume he felt smelled rather nice. A scent of Dark Amber. There were building and facilities that had been destroyed that were of worth. Clothing department stores, beauty supplies, you name it. It was enough for Naki to crawl through the shattered world to find such treasures beneath crushing concrete.           He put his world into this one thing, and he could only hope that it would work. That it would be nice. Morbidly romantic? Possibly.           For once --- For the first time in his life --- He had stared in a mirror for more than a quick slick of his hair. He’d stared his own image down for an hour, adjusting lapels, adjusting his hair, even attempting the use of some make up he’d found to try and lessen the bruising around his eyes. Yamori-aniki had said to be himself, but it was difficult to simply leave it at that.           He wasn’t as strong as Yamori. He could be confident, but he couldn’t be impervious to nervous thoughts. He had to be better than Naki, because no one wanted Naki. No one wanted the idiot, the uneducated buffoon who could barely speak proper japanese. Words he recited in that mirrior, “Be a better Naki, be a Naki that he would want more than anything else.”           To be wanted... That was the goal. To make himself, his company, his person --- Wanted above all else.           Overcoat, suit jacket, a single thistle in his lapel --- He was ready. Even though by the time that everything had finally rolled around, his fingers, his palms --- They were all wrapped to the wrist in bandages. The source being a bouquet he held to his chest. It was sloppily put together, it wasn’t anything fancy, there wasn’t a special placement, but he had been crawling the city since that morning to find these flowers.           He had plucked them himself, roses and thistles, in bare hands. He had gloves, but the flowers deserved the chance to fight for themselves before hand. Before they would become nothing but corpses at Naki’s hand. Pretty corpses but corpses nonetheless --- Maybe someday he would be a pretty corpse as well?           His approach was slow, cautious, he didn’t want to be seen by anyone, not even Hooguro or Shousei. They didn’t need to know right now, nor did Miza, or anyone else, especially out of the suits or the leaders. He didn’t want that in the slightest, especially after his sit down with Kaneki. Luckily that thing he wanted to write... It wasn’t something that he would be handing over tonight.           Avoiding eyes, the presence of others, attention that could stall his intentions --- He found himself at Shuu’s ‘room’, where he had told the man to wait for him. But he couldn’t speak up, couldn’t knock, couldn’t move. Was he getting cold feet??? Maybe... Everything up to this point had been flings and moments of banter and fun and fucking around -- literally. This... This had more intense implications.           He had to move. He couldn’t stand there forever... With a deep breath, his hand rose and finally wrapped against the door. “Oi! Toochikama, ya in here? Ya better be!” Good start. Whatever. He held that mess of a bouquet behind his back and waited, heart hammering against his ribs with a desire to flee. He could do this though. Yamori-aniki had faith in him, he wouldn’t let him down. It’d be fine.

   she’s so glad to see a smile on his face –––  she can spot someone who is bothered a mile away ,  considering she’s in the same boat .  she always tries to brighten up a day whenever she can .  though she’ll admit ,  a blush did rise to her cheeks at such a formal bow . 

   “ de rien ,  monsieur . “  she gives a small curtesy ,  feeling the need to return such a gracious bow .  “ oui ,  i agree .  not many people take clothing very seriously ,  though i’ll admit my wardrobe has been lacking since i’m working most days .  oh !  i’m mallory ,  by the way .  mallory bellerose ––– “

Initially contemplative, Ren’s holding a hand to his chin in quiet thought. Index finger curled beneath lower lip as eyes flickered from his feet to the top of his head. Smile curled itself over lips, the mayor giving a small, appreciative nod after wards.

(how do i appeal to him? i NEED him to like me.)

He hadn’t been planning on such an impromptu meeting, but he’s never been one that was against improvisation.

“You are from... the Tsukiyama family, yes?”

Hands joined and remained together after single clap in blatant show (show!? he’s barely trying!) of admiration of the other. Was it true? Was it false? Ren couldn’t and wouldn’t say, but he’d put up enough of a fight to keep it more-so... on the positive side of things.

“Mmhmhm! Pardon me, though! I must come off like some rabid fan or something!”

(how creepy!! i hardly know anything about you ingrates but here i am anyway!)

“It’s just... I’ve never seen you or anyone of your family in my ward, and it’s always an honor having famous people visit.”

Continued from Here

@ofgourmet​

Ken lifted his head against his second in command’s chest, his face squished up.... looking up at him with an, albeit sheepish, embarrassed look, but... also hurt. Maybe it was just one of those days.

“ ...No. Sorry... ”

          Such a quaint little happening, knowing and keeping all those intricacies in the back of mind. All these bits of personal knowledge he had used to create something bigger. To change a world [ while it spiralled out of control, to reprimand itself from the inside out ] - so the Reaper would have thought, and still thinks, that he deserves---

          ---"So I see." It was an answer given to these requests for guidance that failed but nought to fall short before him [ guidance in itself was something they all needed ] and so the former investigator feels himself breathing out a sigh while eyes still stay so perfectly trained upon tired and worn visage. Alas, perchance he could do as much, and offer help where it was needed the most [ how many might not question his choice of the moment ].

          Just to trace that crack appearing upon shining surface. "Are you asking for help or are you merely speaking to ascertain if I truly listen?" For not a question it was that finds itself softly uttered and driving through the air away from him, dispersing into nothingness upon the other side of the room [ he could feel interested eyes on them, but they would not hear ]. "I am listening. To all you say and not what sharply spoken words may hold."

if you take a nap i’m showing up at your door to kick your ass