“Look like I dialed to wine and dine ya?” Exchange life goals? Maybe get all cozy?
Pfft. Well, he’s a new face. Not particularly a fresh face, no – the Mad Dog of Shimano the gossip deems him; a poster boy among the yakuza, more ‘John Dillinger posters’ than popstar advert – but, still: their first meeting, huh? Pointedly, he turns from the body on the pavement. Displeasure twists his features; his scowl speaks unease.
And picked to bone as they are, skin mottled and ruptured like a too ripe apple… Disloyalty killed this yakuza, and in this site, ‘the hole’, who can blame him?
Mutely, Majima crosses to where she bravely stands. “Talkin’ spotless,” he says, because that’s how clean it’s got to be: how can a man die here if he’d never come at all? He stares expectantly. “See anyone but us hangin’ here?” he tests.
there’s something curious about his behavior. something she can’t put her finger on ---- just under the surface. under the thick, hannya mask he wore. THE MAD DOG. she’s been around death && it’s company enough to know when others shared that fate with her. a look into his features told her that this was not something he was comfortable with --- much less used to. its not long before she realizes that she may have more blood on her hands than even a family man like him.
hanako avoids his gaze. mostly out of habit, but partially as a sign of respect. she keeps her head low, mulling over her words carefully.
❛ i haven’t seen anyone. it’s just us, isn’t it ? ❜ her voice is soft. almost reassuring in a way. she slides past him to get to work on her task, studying the decaying features. there was only so much in her kit that could be useful for restoration in this case --- usually, the bodies are more fresh.
❛ . . . i’m sorry for your loss, if this man was important to you --- would you like me to prepare him here, or should i just remove him ? ❜
snowghoul
turnnoffyourmind
jbbartram-illu
germansingergirl
