☁ im shark

do you know what happened to the last guy who called me a chicken? apmt 4.012 parents: yato and shinjiro job: barista [[affiliated with unionem]]

[sidestuiff]

Send 'SPIT IT OUT!' and I'll randomly generate a number. Whatever number it is, my muse will blur it out to you!

It’s gonna be a mixed bag. Go with caution!

Numbers: 1 - 50

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[dieublanc-deactivated20210829]

♢♢♢. telephone game

      ♢♢♢ Long lashes come together slowly as brows are furrowed and lips pursed in thought. The god eyes the two identical stones within their pale palms, currently cold and weighing against their hands. Despite the constant complaints they garnered from never doing work when others thought it needed to be done, Etihw does in fact get work done, only at a much milder pace and whenever they feel necessary. The ones back home should be proud of their god for actually doing something productive without being told so. 

The stones are probably not needed here, but it feels odd not having at least one or two in use. They’ll be like an emergency reserve, a backup plan so to speak. Rather than start with the full on protection ones, it seems better to start small, just to make sure that it will work if necessary. if it didn’t, something would have to be fixed so to speak, because Eti doesn’t often use cellphones like most of the young ones back home, stones were much easier to obtain and use, plus they lasted loner.

As opposed to some of the other settings the stones have, this one requires two people for it to properly see if it works. The god’s gaze drifts from passerby to passerby, finally picking out someone that doesn’t seem to be doing much.

Eti quickly makes the way over to the child before losing them in the crowd and taps their shoulder twice once close enough, now cradling both white stones in one hand.

❝Do you mind helping me test out something? Promise it won’t take much of your time.❞

[sharkbuster]

The day passes by remarkably peacefully to the point of being incredibly boring. Considering how he was so used to being in dodgy situations nearly every day, it drives him to restlessness and he finds himself wandering the streets, trying to pass the time as he trudges around aimlessly. Turning a corner, he racks his brain to think if there's anything he felt like doing right then, but he wasn't really feeling up to anything either.

That was quite a predicament-- he desperately wants to do something, but at the same time he has no patience or isn't in the mood to search for some sort of entertainment. He considers heading for the arcade, only to remember he left his wallet at home. Laughing drily under his breath, he moodily swings back, intending to head back home and just sleep the rest of the day away or something.

He nearly jumps out of his skin when someone taps him on the shoulder, because while he often bumped into people roughly through the dense crowds, he never really has anyone try to converse with him. Warily turning around, he scowls a bit out of habit rather than genuine disapproval, but he really is itching to get out of there by now. Looking at the stranger impassively, he wondered what he could even be of help of anyway.

"Alright, alright," he sighs. "What do you need me to do?"

[pluslen]

Thankfully what’s-his-name wasn’t too mad and even let him off easy and— wait, what’s he doing with that thing in his hand? He watched in awe as the once-stranger handed him a card with something scribbled on a small card in some rather slovenly chicken scratch, holding it in his hand and taking note of the word written on it. Was that English? It said “SHARK”.. From what he could recall from his attempts at learning the language in the past, “shark” meant, well, shark. Was Shark seriously his actual name or did he just want to profess his undying love for the shark community? While it was true that sharks are underappreciated, wasn’t that overdoing it a little? Normally people write their names on those things.. Though, thinking back, some of the cards he remembered picking up did have pictures of sharks on them.

“Ah, S-Shark-san..? You don’t have to go out of your way to— really, it’s fine..” With the glare he’d received after so much as attempting to complete the sentence, Len figured that maybe it’d be safest if he just kindly accepted the shark lover’s offer. Shaking his head to brush off his previous statement and flashing an obviously nervous smile, he bit back the words that he’d really wanted to say and tried to wrap the conversation up as fast as he could. “Thanks, I.. I really appreciate it. I’ll make sure to stop by soon, and again, I’m really sorry about all this.” With a courteous bow and a wave, the blonde dashed off full-speed in hopes of getting to GameStop and back before his PSP met its bitter end.

☆☆☆

Nearly a week had passed until he’d finally worked up the motivation to even consider visiting his new friend. He’d been trying to avoid the encounter any means possible; after beating his game and beating it the second time around, it occurred to him how he was subconsciously putting it off even further. At one point he’d realized that maybe the guy would be pissed that he didn’t show and send his mafia friends on a manhunt for him. It wouldn’t surprise Len to hear that Shark was out for blood; after all, he seemed the type to easily be involved in some shady business. Of course it was kind of embarrassing to ponder the fact that he was scared of a fourteen year old, but with the scary look on his face it made him look like he could easily be sixteen or even eighteen (though that might have been pushing it too far).

After plugging his PSP into the wall so it could charge while he was gone and pulling on a hoodie, Len spent about five minutes trying to find his wallet just to shove it into his pocket – even if Shark said that it was on the house, he insisted on at the very least giving a tip. After slipping on his shoes and jamming his phone into his unoccupied pocket, he took extra care to make sure he locked the door behind himself and brought his keys. Thankfully the coffee shop wasn’t so far a walk away that he was completely exhausted, but he definitely could go for a drink.

Entering the shop and looking around, the first thing he noticed behind the counter was that familiar, god awful hairstyle that he wouldn’t dare mention out loud. He took a few moments to study the menu and hoped that it would be alright if he got a smoothie instead – not only did they serve them, but they were also pretty cheap compared to the coffee, and there was no way in hell he was letting this guy know that he didn’t like the taste of coffee. He’d already gotten enough snippy remarks from friends about it in the past.

Stepping up to the counter, Len started out with a “Hey.” Waiting for Shark to turn around and see him, he took the headphones he’d been wearing off his head and brought them down to rest on his neck. God, this was getting to the point of unbearably awkward, and he’d only said one word. “Uh, good afternoon.” It’d already been a week since the incident occurred in the first place; did Shark even remember him by this point?

[sharkbuster]

Just watching the kid was giving him a serious headache, the way he was so overly polite. For pete's sake, he even bowed. Who does that to another kid anyway, was this guy stuck living in the Edo era or something? Shark almost felt like shaking him and screaming in his face that no, you didn't have to turn down offers to help, that no, not everyone is a mafia member, and that maybe he should look out for himself more. But the guy looked scared enough already and ready to run off at any moment, so he just settled with an affirmative grunt. And started to wonder to himself why he felt so pissed off, but mostly out of concern. Hell, he barely knew the guy for maybe 10 minutes at most.

He hadn't thought much about the guy any more until he got home and laid his cards out on his table, this time inspecting his cars more carefully. Well, a couple of them did look extra beat up, and he could have sworn those were the ones he saw Len fumbling around with and struggling to put them all together. He laughed to himself drily, thinking that maybe it would have just been better if he let the guy go, since now he owes someone a drink. Which he definitely wouldn't be owing if he hadn't made that split second decision to give the Len kid a business card. Which he didn't even have to do, since he could have just left then and there and hope they never ran into each other again. Which is what he definitely would have normally done, but because of some genius portion in the recesses of his brain, he must have gone soft after spending time with all those nagging, busybody friends back home. He shrugged it off as him going senile at the ripe age of fourteen, and gingerly reordered his cards, secretly glad that at least the most of them (especially the better ones) weren't damaged noticably.

And as a very late afterthought, he realised the other guy's hair looked like bananas, and suddenly felt silly for brooding over this encounter so much anyway. Banana boy might not even remember to show up, or get lost, or maybe even be dead terrified of him by now. That actually lightened his mood, and he shoved this entire incident under some dusty rug in his mind, before cleaning up his cards and picking up his electric guitar to pluck a few chords. "A toast to my possible escape," he laughed, cringing as one of his notes rang out horribly sour.

He'd like to say that it really did completely slip his mind the moment his head hit the pillow that night, and for the next two days he was blissfully forgetful or just being a horrible blockhead trying to deny that he really was wondering if Len Bananamine would ever show up. But by day three he assumed the guy wasn't coming, so for real he actually didn't think about it again until a couple days later, just as he was topping a cup of espresso with whipped cream did he nearly drop the drink upon seeing the guy again. Also conveniently right as there were practically no customers left, so he couldn't even complain that he was holding up the line, as there was no line to hold up.

Of course, he very professionally did not drop the espresso, and it made it safely into the right hands, but now he had the matter of this...this guy to deal with. The guy he frankly had been unnaturally friendly with, at least by Shark standards, and had also wondered two whole days to see if he would stop by. Though no matter what kind of weird notions were going through his head several days ago, right now he was just feeling uncomfortable, just leaning lightly on the counter waiting for Len to just order something. He also felt a little conscious of the apron and the glaringly dorky name tag considering he could pretty easily tell the guy was afraid of him when they first met. It's kind of difficult to keep the same opinion of someone after you see them in an apron, so he stiffly coughed once, crossing his arms to cover the name tag, and did his standard "I don't have time to wait all day" glare.

And found out he really didn't know what to say either. "Of course I remember you, since we crashed harder than a stock market could," sounded incredibly callous, and he couldn't say he didn't remember it either. After a very long five seconds of tension, he began, "Yeah. Good afternoon. What are you getting?" and suddenly felt grateful there wasn't anyone waiting in line to witness this catastrophe of a meeting, if you could call it that. He figured that once the guy got his coffee and left, he could just leave it at that, but there were so many things that could happen after this. Len could never show up again, or he could become a regular, trying to mooch off this one time free drink, or whatever people who get offered a free drink after smashing into strangers do. 

Shark didn't really want to admit it, but he felt like he had a reason for telling Len how to find him again, the only trouble being he couldn't sort out his own thoughts well enough to figure out exactly why. He hadn't made it a habit of actively making friends or anything of the sort before, and he hadn't intended to start now either. A vague idea of what he wanted to say was beginning to form in his head, and to his own horror a few seconds later he found himself blurting out, "Do you play card games?" and mentally punched himself, because of how awkward his question was an also because it seemed pretty obvious that the guy didn't at all.

[calamitatus-blog]

Yato was so busy going through the fridge he didn’t even hear the door open. His head peeked around the door, spotting a young-looking kid. Was that his supposed son? The paper had briefly mentioned him but other than a name that had been about it. He padded over to the corner and peered out at him. His lips stretched into a wide smile.

"You’re so late getting here! I was starting to get worried!" Yato practically pranced up to him, bouncing like he was a little kid again. He opened his arms and hugged the other, ruffling his hair— he didn’t care whether the boy was comfortable with it or not. "Welcome home!" Typical Yato, acting like he could do whatever he wanted.

[sharkbuster]

He felt his eye twitch, utterly baffled at how someone couldn't hear the racket he was making, considering he had even gotten a couple of looks from the neighbours wondering if everything was alright. Then again, from a cursory scan of the guy, he figured his new dad looked like a guy who could honestly pull off living in a cabinet eating snacks for the rest of his life.

Trying to be civil, even though he was still, frankly, pissed that he'd been left out there because apparently food was more important, he offered a stiff nod in his father's general direction. Even then, he still felt like he had to say something about the horrible negligence. "I was late because no one answered the door," he grit out, rubbing his temples. "Until I tried the door handle, and it turned out the door wasn't even properly locked," he spat out, this time unable to stop his voice from rising.

Well, to be honest, he didn't really have any hopes of this guy listening to him anyway, so he really told him for his own satisfaction. His reprimand over, he sighed once more, and then offered the man a hand. "I'm--," he began, before he realised that this man would be family. And family probably was supposed to call each other by real names. "--Ryouga Kamishiro," he finished, correcting his thought train. "You can call me Shark if you want to," he muttered under his breath, wondering if life here was going to be a pain in the neck for him.

[askboxmemes]

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[pluslen]

Picking up cards was a harder job than it’d seemed – seriously, how hard should it have been to pick up some boring piece of thin cardboard or paper or whatever it was? Thankfully he had slightly long fingernails, because if he didn’t he’d have just been making grabby hands at cement. Either way, he was making a fool of himself with his obviously terrible attempt at trying to shuffle the cards in his hands, leading to him dropping two or three of them back on the ground. After picking them back up once again, Len straightened them out so that at the very least they wouldn’t be sticking out and, who knows, give the guy a papercut. Can cards even do that, anyways?

When he was done, he glanced back up at Shark – who was holding a hand out to him. Maybe he was nicer than he looked, but Len couldn’t tell if he was trying to help him up or get his deck back, and he figured he’d really just embarrass himself if he took the stranger’s hand only to get shoved away. “Y- Yeah, sorry.. Here.” Placing the small, disorderly stack of cards in Shark’s palm and rising from a crouching position, the boy nervously looked around at the surrounding people, leaving as they got bored – likening them to onlookers at a car crash.

Hopefully the guy he’d bumped into wasn’t too mad – what if he was a lawyer? What if he had a lawyer? Oh, man, was he going to get sued? That’s not good. He was just a kid – he was supposed to live life to the fullest – and he definitely didn’t have time to go to court after having charges pressed by some weird kid with even weirder hair. Maybe it was a good idea to apologize sincerely, even though he’d already done so once before. Two times for good measure wouldn’t hurt.

“Ah, again, I’m really sorry. I don’t know if you want me to pay you back, or..” Would that even do any good? Those cards didn’t look like anything from any of the stores he’d ever been to, and if they were collector’s items and held deep meaning for the guy then he was in deep shit. Maybe he could auction off a kidney or two and go free? Probably not, but it would be worth a shot. Maybe. “My name.. I should probably give you my name. I’m Len— Kagamine Len, so if you end up looking for me, then..”

He’d felt the need to specify his name just in case, and hopefully Shark would remember that it was Len and not Lin or Rin – because there was a person he didn’t want to drag into this mess, should someone find her before he did. “I don’t think I caught your name, or, er – I doubt you’d have given it in the first place.. Is there anything else I can do? I’m really sorry about the mess, I was too careless.”

[sharkbuster]

It was, admittedly, pretty funny watching the other kid, but Shark was just about dumbfounded when he found his cards placed gingerly in his hands and his offer to help completely denied. And possibly feeling a little wounded, but he shook those feelings off and collected his cards, shoving them back into his pocket. He'll make more of a fuss over them at home, rather than look ridiculous caring so much about them on the streets. Whatever the reason why the guy didn't take his hand, if he just misread his intentions or if he really doesn't like touching strangers, Shark wasn't going to think much more about it.

He didn't raise his head after that, instead opting to dust off imaginary dirt from his shoulders, smoothing out his shirt as well in the process. As much as he wanted to twist around to make sure he didn't tear his pants or something, he figured that would probably only make him look weirder, so he settled by tugged his long shirt downwards a little more. Anything to make it look like he wasn't particularly invested in this guy. They just bumped into each other on the road, so after this they could probably just part ways, forget about each other until someone asked what happened that day, and after that, just never pop in each other's minds ever again. At least, that was what he was hoping for until the guy even had the guts? manners? to apologise again, one too many times, and even introduce himself. Whatever. Didn't this guy have to go somewhere in a hurry? Why is he still hanging around, he complained inwardly.

Blinking twice after staring incredulously at the guy, named Len Kagamine apparently, Shark snorted. Imperceptibly, but he did snort. "You don't have to pay anything back," he grimaced, placing his hands systematically into his pockets like he did whenever someone he was talking to was being difficult. First of all, he would have called these cards priceless, as in either they were irreplaceable or just plain crap. He didn't like thinking of his deck as crap, but that's probably how much some flimsy postcard paper was worth to other people here. And even if some of the cards he had did have souls of the monsters in them, that's not something you'd tell a stranger who just made you drop all of those terrifying monsters on the ground. 

He was about to just turn and walk away until an idea sparked in his head. Earlier his boss made him take a bunch of business cards, despite his protests that everyone he knew either went to the cafe already or never would go, and he was not about to hand out cards to people on the streets. It didn't matter; he lost the argument, and the business cards ended up shoved contemptuously somewhere in the depths of his pockets. Taking one out, although it was a little bent from its unholy resting place with the lint in his pockets, he removed the pen he had clipped onto his shirt, and wrote "SHARK" in a big blocky text on the back of the card. Ignoring whatever else Len Kagamine had to say, he offered the card impassively, trying hard not to glare like he always did when he was getting impatient. "Go there sometime if you haven't already. I kept you here long enough. Ask for me if I'm not there, and I'll get you one drink. On the house," he supplied, feeling like that was enough compensation for slowing the guy down. Even if it was his fault they bumped in the first place.

[pluslen]

Though Len hadn’t had an appointment to catch or a place to be by a certain time, he was in a hurry. His PSP was dying at a good place in a game, and while he’d saved his progress he wanted to continue playing – the point being, of course, that he’d lost his charger somewhere along the way between the last time he’d used it to laundry day when he hadn’t noticed how it’d gotten stuck in the belt loop of one of his favorite pairs of jeans and fallen back into the basket once he’d picked the pants up. Crazy how things always end up where you wouldn’t look, right?

Having rushed down the street in hopes that he’d reach GameStop before they were closed for the night or all sold out of PSP chargers (as if. Who even plays the PSP anymore? It’s all about the Vita nowadays.), Len had been a bit too careless in his travels, leading him straight into crashing into someone. It happened in a flash – he was thoughtlessly jogging down the street and next thing he knew he’d felt himself colliding into someone. The cards that fluttered in the air seemed almost like confetti; lost in a trance for a few too many moments, the teen finally snapped to his senses as it hit him that he was the one that rammed into this guy in the first place.

“Ah, sorry—!” After standing up and brushing himself off, he’d reached over to help pick up the scattered cards when he noticed this guy had fast hands. Extremely fast hands. He barely even had a chance to react while this guy was playing the speed round of pick-up sticks on the ground. While lost in thought, he’d felt a hand roughly grasp his wrist. The stranger spoke in a rude tone, though not to say it wasn’t justified in that regard, and Len figured it was probably a good idea to try not to piss him off again from hereon out. He’d already planned to help pick the cards up, anyways.

“Sorry about that, of course I’ll help, so, can you, uh, lighten your grip a little? It kind of hurts.” He couldn’t bend down to retrieve the cards if someone was practically holding him up. They were already causing a scene enough; now it looked like they were about to duke it out in the middle of the sidewalk.

[sharkbuster]

Well, the guy at least had the decency to apologise, though Shark was still kind of mad over this completely avoidable accident. If maybe the guy had just looked ahead of him instead of twiddling around with his PSP, you know. He also felt kind of guilty for overreacting, since they were just cards and easily picked up, even if it was going to take a while.

Grunting his response, he removed his hand from the other boy's wrist, seeing as that it wasn't likely the guy was going to run away. He sounded pretty genuine, at least. Inwardly, he cursed himself for not putting covers on these things. Normally he took pretty good care of his deck, but now that the cards were spilled all over the cement, he couldn't help but cringe every time the cards made a scraping sound against the floor as he picked them up.

Looks like Shark Drake went from looking like a mint condition card to a "Fair" on eBay by now. Not that he was ever going to sell it, but maybe he really was too attached to these old cards of his if he's inwardly complaining about every dust speck that touched them. Grimacing, he collected the pile of cards he had and for the first time in a couple minutes, actually took a good look at what was around him. There was a bit of a crowd slowly edging away from them, probably disappointed no one got clobbered. The kid in question was still busy picking the cards on his side up, fumbling around and clearly not as effecient as Shark assumed he would be.

It was rather an asshole move that he made someone do work for him that he could probably do better. Maybe he could get the kid an employee discount or something if he ever came over to the café. He sighed begrudgingly and scooted over, helping to pick up the rest of the cards. With one final scan to make sure no more cards were left on the ground, he stood up and impatiently extended the kid a hand, muttering something under his breath, before realising the other guy couldn't hear him. He coughed twice before frostily glaring. "You gonna stand up soon or what."

[sharkbuster]

Messing around playing poker only did so much to satisfy his aching need to do something. Anything with cards, really, because he missed dueling. Of course it wasn't the same, but just having cards in his hand made him feel better about the life he'd left behind, and it's not like anyone here would go for a round with him with duel monsters anyway. He exhaled, glancing once again at the deck box he stowed away in his pocket.

Maybe, just one more time, he could indulge himself in looking at the cards that had no place in this world. He continued strolling down the sidewalk leisurely, slipping his deck out of his pocket and nostalgically eyeing the card he left on top. He frowned. Thumbing through the rest of the cards, he realised a lot of these cards had different memories attached to them. Some of them, frankly, weren't so great, so he laughed at himself internally for being so hopelessly sentimental. Right as he was above to shove the cards back into his pocket where they wouldn't see the light of day, someone roughly knocked into him, sending both their asses to the floor and the cards fluttering down around them. Shark was dazed from the impact, before a couple seconds passed and he realised what just happened.

"Oi, asshole, watch where you're going," he snapped, not wasting any time in collecting the cards he'd scattered. There were cards all over the ground, and it looked like tedious work, but thankfully, he was both a quick opportunist and also quick with his hands. Before the stranger could run off or something, Shark quickly grabbed their wrist and hissed, "At least help me clean this up since you're the one who came crashing into me."  

[sharkbuster]

Tickets in hand already, and with a tub of popcorn in his other, Shark contentedly loiters around in the lobby of the theatre. In just under an hour, he would be watching the premier of Sharknado 2, and with some girl he roped along just so he felt less ridiculous about going to the theatres alone. Well, she shouldn't be complaining, anyway. He is paying for everything. It's kind of like a date, except he barely talked to the kid anyway and really just wants someone to appreciate those sharks.

Unfortunately, she is also running a little late, and Shark normally would have been frustrated and impatiently dialing her number by now to insist that she speed up. But not today, because he knows he kinda came early anyway. An entire hour early. She probably won't even be here until the last 10 minutes before the show starts, and that's alright, but if he so much as misses one second of the movie--

Well. That's a thought to be saved for later. Because right now, he has an uncharacteristically cheeky grin plastered across his face. Because he, frankly, is very excited to see a bunch of flying sharks hammer New York City into rubble. Because sharks are amazing like that. 

[sharkbuster]

✌

✌ - Drunk/drugged text

[txt] u. me[txt] we r gonnna hav a HUGE fkn cardfigth tourney[txt] wait wat. r ur sayin i play yugioh[txt] ... o

[trashyshark-blog]

✴ - An angry text

To: Shark

From: Satan

[txt] WELCOME TO HELL

[txt] WELCOME TO HELL

[txt] WELCOME TO HELL

[txt] WELCOME TO HELL

[txt] WELCOME TO HELL

[sharkbuster]

✌

✌ - Drunk/drugged text

[txt] hey[txt] lovee your scarf[txt] frend had one just lik it loool 

[sharkbuster]

✴

✴ - An angry text

[txt] wtf. WTF do you MEAN we cant go watch sharknado 2

[sharkbuster]

☾

☾ - A bedtime text

[txt] no, im not the shark u r lookin 4 [txt] sleep well kid[txt] u dont need a bedtime story do u

[sharkbuster]

☾

☾ - A bedtime text

[txt] u remind me a bit of someone i kno[txt] ur not rio but...[txt] sweet drms

[unmeme]

text meme.

Send me a symbol for a:

✌ - Drunk/drugged text

❤ - A heartfelt text

☾ - A bedtime text

✴ - An angry text

[sharkbuster]

He had knocked on the door at least 8 times, waited 5 minutes, and checked his assigned apartment number probably over 20 times and still got no response. His patience was long wearing thin, and he glared spitefully at his paper once more, wishing that he could burn holes through paper and then maybe the door as well, so that maybe he could finally get in after standing here looking like some lost kid. 

Not surprisingly, after three more minutes, and a couple of screams, he finally decided that either the occupants were very, very, heavy sleepers, not inside, or just plain assholes, and he had to take this into his own hands. He was just about to bust the door open, but not before giving the handle a rude shake, only to find out that the door had never been locked in the first place. Feeling just a little bit ashamed, but also furious that someone he was going to be living with could so carelessly leave the front door unlocked, he picked up the baggage he left on the floor and moodily stomped his way in, taking care to firmly shut and lock the door behind him. 

He didn't see anyone at first though, so he cautiously set his stuff down on the sofa, peering around the room for signs of life. Shark tried testing the waters. "Hey," he spoke, walking deeper into the lounge. "I'm moving in here. Is anyone here?" Huh. Funny. He wondered where everyone went.