氷 uǝǝnb の ǝɔı 女 ǝɥʇ 王

cold hard bitch. { ♚ | ♜ | ♞ | ♟ | ♛ }

[viciouslyfluffed-deactivated201]

ゆかぶー

[his-twisted-sister]

{ café au charité }

[righteousruler]

"Huh?"

Truth be told, the stranger’s comment had caught him almost entirely off guard. Kageyama hadn’t included a stop at the café in his day’s plans that morning when he woke up. It was a forfeit to a silly bet that he had lost during club activities—who could balance a ball on their forehead the longest—which he insisted that he would have won, because he was doing just fine until Hinata, that dumbass, interrupted his stream of concentration.

As far as forfeits went, he’d definitely heard of worse; just going to grab drinks and buns for the rest of the members and bringing it back to the club room. He’d had the team’s order memorised, however, with Sugawara’s insistence, the setter also jotted it down on a piece of paper, just in case, which was currently stuffed messily into his pocket.

Kageyama made a quick check over his shoulders, checking there was nobody behind him that the other before him was snapping at. There wasn’t, so it must have been directed at him, after all. “I’m just looking at the menu board,” which happened to be hung on the wall in front of where this strange, curt woman was seated. He was double checking that everything on the list was served here, as well as trying to decide what he wanted himself. Maybe he’d grab a carton of flavoured milk from a vending machine on the way back.

[his-twisted-sister]

An immediate sense of embarrassment washed over the brunette as she assessed the other's clear confusion over her previous commentary. Clearly, Namie's senses had failed her here, alerting her to an intruder that was, in fact, not an intruder of any sorts; only a teenage boy who appeared to be gawking at a menu board coincidentally situated near the spot where she had been seated. Nevertheless, her icy demeanor never faltered, leaving not a single indication of any sort of emotion written upon Namie's face.

Once an exchange of awkward glances and mumbled commentary from the boy had occurred, Namie signaled her dismissal of the matter by simply resuming her attention back on her work. She probably should have said something, an apology for her own rude mistake, but that would have been completely out of character for the so called ice queen. Thankfully, the boy moved on rather quickly, ordering a plethora of beverages from the overly friendly barista, before attempting to figure out how he was going to carry them all (obviously he hadn't thought of this before hand).

With a sigh, Namie gathered her things and told herself that she was going to such lengths simply because she could not stand to witness good coffee be wasted on the floor when the obviously clumsy teenager dropped it because he was trying to carry too much.

                          ❆ “Let me help you with that.”

It wasn't a question or even a pleasant offering, that much was clear from the way Namie scooped up the remaining tray of drinks immediately upon approaching him. Not wanting to hear any protest, the brunette immediately headed for the door, assuming Kageyama would follow behind her.

[his-twisted-sister]

{ reunion }

[the-flea-blog]

"Long time no see, Namie-san." The airy greeting was delivered as he opened the door to an awaited familiar face, lips snaking into a crooked grin as his arms unfolded in a casual gesture to accompany his invitation to her inside. "Come in, come in." 

There was a lot that could happen in the span of two years for someone like Orihara Izaya. With wounds having healed, only marring scars stretching across their pale canvas left as physical reminders, he had seen to it that fresh plans were set in motion as soon as the informant found himself back on his feet. While his initial goal to bring around Ragnarök had failed rather grandly, that very objective, however, had not been abandoned, just put on the back-burner; leaving Celty’s head in the capable hands of his second in command (much to her disfavour, he was sure).

For the time being, Izaya had taken to fleeing from Shinjuku and Ikebukuro, setting himself up in an interesting city that he had caught wind of not long ago. Of course, with a new city came a lot of things to learn about all the bustling, unfamiliar faces that wandered it’s streets. What could possibly be more exciting than a brand new playground to watch over and orchestrate? This time around, Izaya didn’t have the luxury of a plethora of contacts at his disposal, though task of rebuilding a network for gathering and dispersing information didn’t do much to daunt him; it was a part of his job, after all. 

"Tea?"

He had a cup poured regardless of whether or not she desired it, sitting it in front of her on a modern glass coffee table in front of the sofa that he had walked to her, telling her to make herself at home. “How was your trip? What do you think of my new office? Not as roomy as the last one, I know, but great views.” Having deemed that enough time had since passed the incidents that drove him here, Namie’s return to his side would act as the beginning of this new chapter, the first motion that would set the ball rolling. Another cup was prepared for himself before sinking into the cushions of a chair at the opposite side of the table, facing her. "Did you bring it?" No further elaboration necessary. With the time spent out of direct communication with each other leaving him in the dark of whether or not anything had happened to his most prized possession, Izaya was eager to bring the topic up, cutting the chit-chat that neither of them were all that interested in.

[his-twisted-sister]

An icy silence accompanied the blatant roll of the brunette's eyes as she was greeted by a familiar face at the door of his new apartment. It was the very same apartment, in fact, as the one that had been listed in the message she had received a few days prior to her arrival in Toshi City. That little tidbit of information, however, had been of no surprise to Namie as she knew the work of this man, if that's what you wished to call him, like she knew the back of her hand (not that this was anything to be proud of).

Making her way into the foyer once Izaya's beguiled greeting had completed, the wonted removal of her heels occurred to her subconsciously and left Namie mentally slapping herself for being lead so easily back into their routine. This occurred until she noticed a familiar, yet slightly more beat up, pair of slippers situated in its expected place at the end of the hall. Raising an eyebrow, the brunette slipped them on without comment and maneuvered herself to the sofa opposite to the one which Izaya had himself seated.

It didn't take long for the informant to launch immediately into conversation; first starting with the usual casual small talk and barrage of crowing questions that one typically engaged in upon requesting the presence of another after a long expanse of time had since passed from the last time you had been in their company. However, these topics were subject matter that neither were truly interested in and both of them knew it.

So rather than play this game with him, Namie allowed Izaya to talk himself silly, all the while taking small sips of the tea that had been practically forced upon her— not even caring if it was drugged at this point, anything to shut him up would be considered worth it. That was until he got to the meat of this conversation, which had Namie placing her cup down on the coffee table as a silent signal of her interest. 

                          ❆ “Surely you do not mistake me for some sort of a fool that travels a substantial distance to this God-forsaken city simply to relish in your company, Orihara-san," she replied, answering the question in a roundabout manner. "..They're saying you're dead, you know. 'Orihara Izaya's mysterious disappearance leaves Ikebukuro sanctified' the papers said, but I knew better than to celebrate. Although, I can't say this place was on my list of expectations. Why here?" 

[shizuzaya-deactivated20120423]

[his-twisted-sister]

»め郎

[his-twisted-sister]

{ café au charité }

As any move to a new big city often was, the change had been drastic for Namie. Though it didn't appear on the surface, right then or ever to be precise, Namie had been feeling a mix of emotions about the matter. In a way, she knew this move would be good for her, though the same couldn't exactly have been said about her presence in Toshi City. That, however, was a story for a different day.

After settling in to her new apartment, the brunette beauty decided that now was as good of time as any to take a closer look into her new surroundings. Anything was better than being cooped up there; especially when considering the fact that her pesky boss was liable to drop in and annoy her at any, and all, hours of the day. Therefore, Namie took to the streets, wandering without any particular destination at first, but soon after finding herself folded around a hot cup of joe within a quaint little shop.

All was swell and good within the world at that moment; that was, however, until she was alerted to a presence standing over her upon the small hairs on the back of her neck immediately standing at attention. With a cool stare, Namie looked back at the stranger, her words as icy as her demeanor when she finally did speak.

                          ❆ "—..Take a picture, it'll last longer."

[his-twisted-sister]

{ ❆ —;; OUT OF JACKETS ;;— ❆ }

hello everyone ヽ(´ー`)ﾉ this is namie's mun speaking, but you can call me aly(ssa) or namie-mun (whatever is your preference, really). anywho, i just wanted to make a little post to introduce myself to the group. unfortunately, i've got my last two finals of my college career tomorrow morning (scaryyyy) so after this post i'm going to pop off. but fear not, i do plan to make an open post for anyone that's interested in rping with namie in the near future. for any specific plots, feel free to message me and i'd be happy to work something out with you! happy rping guys. i'm v. excited to get to know all of you!! xx, A.

[his-twisted-sister]

{ reunion }

She remembered blood; the red liquid covering her head to toe unprejudiced to the fact that none of it had belonged to her. She remembered the color red; how it'd stained her hands roughly the color of rust for nearly an entire week after the incident had occurred. She remembered the distinct scent of iron and how it had clung to the air even long after its source had completely picked up and vanished without her. And she remembered being afraid, because for the first time Namie had truly been alone; exactly like all those regretful times she'd wished for it so badly before.

But most of all, Namie remembered peace; two years of it to be exact, where the drama in Ikebukuro had all but dried up completely. This was due mostly to the strange, and yet widely celebrated, disappearance of everyone's favorite information broker (or at least this was what had been said). It was a rumor that Namie knew to be true— Orihara Izaya was gone; although, the brunette knew better than to think this change for the better would have any sort of set permanence for herself.

It was this thought that Namie would find herself quickly lamenting, seeing as her phone ironically produced a soft buzzing sound during that precise moment. In a solid, yet incredibly swift, motion, the once chief of the sixth lab now turned secretary picked up the device, flipping it open to discover the following message displayed on the screen:

ONE UNREAD MESSAGE FROM: 未 知 数

R O O M 0 0 1, M A P L E A P T, T O S H I C I T Y.

It didn't require a genius to figure who was responsible, not that Namie didn't already consider herself one already, but after reading the message over to herself nearly twenty times at least, the brunette finally set her phone back down and focused her attention on a certain jar containing that thing's head.

                          ❆ "It appears as though I'm to be rid of you after all," Namie told it, her mouth then forming the thin line of a scowl that many would have mistakenly taken for her complete displeasure. However, for the brunette, this expression was typical and one that signified some sick sense of utter delight at the mere thought..

                                            — Toshi City didn't have a single clue what it was in for.

[shizuos]

[his-twisted-sister]

{ ❆ —;; OUT OF JACKETS ;;— ❆ }

everything below this post is to be ignored.  please and thank you!! :)

[jamiemoved-blog]

波江さんに by ゆうらい

[ikebukurians]

[his-twisted-sister]

アキヲ

[mylovelyneko]

[mustangs-waifu-blog]

[shoujo-ai]

[orihara-hachimenroppi-deactivat]

[his-twisted-sister]

[his-twisted-sister]

May The Fourth ♖

Today was the day.

Twenty-something years prior marked the dreaded day history would one day regard with misfortune. May the fourth, the day God himself allowed the devil offspring that was Izaya Orihara to be bore from the womb. Even more of a reason the female did not believe in a higher power. And if one did exist, certainly, he had no care for human species; Orihara's existence was proof enough for that.

It was of no surprise to Namie that the informant had spoke of nothing else to her for about a week now. Thoughts of the various mentions of it cluttered her concentration; slender fingers gripping the additional decretive gift bag that joined her on the familiar walk to work that morning. The air was crisp, though the day would soon warm up. It was not the kind of day you would expect much evil from, or maybe that was the calm before the storm.

The uneventful walk lead Namie straight to the office and upon approaching the building the secretary let out a small sigh before going about her routine as usual. The clanging of her keys in the door resembling the last sense of normalcy that Namie was to encounter that day. She pushed open the door entering into the small foyer, tawny irises settling on the tacky display of happy birthday banners strewn about the walls. This was hell; Namie had died and she was in hell.

She took a second, letting the decorations sink in as she discarded her coat and dawned on her usual slippers padding silently over to the room she was sure Orihara would be located. The secretary moistened her lips, preparing to speak. The next words were not not a happy birthday nor was there any expression of warmth or happiness; just standing there gripping the satchel she had been carrying.

"It's looking rather gaudy and atrocious in here this morning."

[bulme]

Namie Yagiri | Durarara!!