#hatobureiika

[hiiimawarii]

@hatobureiika asked: ❝ hey, can you hold this for me? ❞ holds out his hand. / Katsuo

Eyes shifting first up to the man’s face and then down to his hand, an eyebrow-raising before he looked back up to Katsuo’s face. There didn’t seem to be anything big in his hand? Unless it was something breakable? It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the twin, because he trusted them with his life, but whenever they did this kind of stuff, it always made him wary. 

Hesitantly, he stuck his hand out, turning his body to face the much taller body. “What is it? Better not be a bug or something gross.”

[hiiimawarii]

@hatobureiika asked: ❝ the birds work the bourgeoisie. ❞ why does he know how to say this specific sentence with perfect pronunciation in english? don't question him. / kouki

Oh! He knew that one! 

His face lit up as he got excited, the video replaying in his head as he gathered together the words. As he opened his mouth to speak, his face went blank, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “All of the birds died in 1986 due to Reagan killing them and replacing them with spies that are now watching us...” Dramatic pause as the smile slowly crept back on to his face. “THE BIRDS WORK FOR THE BOURGEOISIE!”

[hiiimawarii]

@hatobureiika asked: slams a jelly belly pet rat gummi candy. ❝ JEE-LIE BEE-LIE PEET RAT GOO-MY CAN-DIE! ❞ his english is still shit. / Kouki

So much for a nap. 

Oliver’s eyes snapped open as the solid piece of candy hit the living room table, eyebrows turning downward as they knitted together. He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or if he was simply exhausted enough to the point he couldn’t understand a word that was being spoken to him. Slowly, he pushed himself up and rubbed the tips of his fingers in to his his eyes, trying to wake himself up some. “I— What?” He turned the attempted English with his own, looking down to the candy. He couldn’t help but laugh as he replayed the words in his head and slowly decoded it. “Do you need English lessons? Where did you get such a big piece of candy?”

[hiiimawarii]

@hatobureiika asked: ❝ i play violin before i even knew what anime was. ❞ / Katsuo

Spinning in his chair, he took small sips of his soda before on the aluminum rim. Pointing his toes, he stopped the chair along with himself as soon as Katsuo was done speaking. “I didn’t even know you played the violin...” Or was he just being stupid? Did he forget? Finally, he lowered the can from his lips and held it in between his legs. “You should play for me sometime and we should watch anime together!”

[hiiimawarii]

@hatobureiika asked: ❝ are you serious? right in front of my salad? ❞ / katsuo

UNPROMPTED » Always Accepted

Oliver puffed up his cheeks as he crossed arms over his chest. How dare he quote a vine while also interrupting Oliver’s story. “Just because you quote a vine doesn’t mean I’m gonna stop telling my story.” He paused before grinning. “Nice placement, though...”

[ekleipsi]

[ ✉ → send: /redacted/ ] ohh, you just wont die. / katsuo

[ sms; redacted ] afraid you’ll have to try harder, brat-chan…or you can just give up, if you really don’t have the skill. [ sms; redacted ] suppose you’ll also have to find me, first. good luck, beautiful. ;*

[florasi]

❝ sorry, i'm not here looking to get tattoos but i was curious if your shop had an artist & if they had some designs they'd be impartial to parting with? ❞ his ability to play the role of an oblivious air-head is unprecedented, as fingernails coated in a black polish languidly tap on the polished marble of the front counter. as if he hadn't gathered the answer to the first part of his inquiry prior to coming in the parlor. / katsuo

(   ✿   ) IT’S COMMON HE FALLS INTO CHATTER with coworkers, but at the moment, they’ve scattered through their space, occupying the back rooms and upper levels with their own arts ‘pon skin. Mae has found himself hunched over scattered papers ‘pon a free desk space to view his work from a distance – then immediately up close (the woes of a perfectionist);  analyzing variation possibilities for a client’s tattoo. He’s partial to one, however it was ultimately up to the wearer’s decision. Complacent in himself for a moment, the artist almost finds himself forgetful of the familiar ‘chime!’ of the entrance welcoming a new face.

Jade only befall onto the man as he speaks - quick to straightening the curve of his spine and gathering papers as he listens with an intent. Excuse him in thoughtlessness – typically he is quick to greeting but he’s failed on making a guest feel welcome, but offers a small grin as he approaches counter. He hangs onto the words for a long moment or two, nose scrunching in the inquiry and in the way he thinks it’s a jest to tickle his humor and in turn earns a beam of jollity. Do they have an artist? 

Their walls and windows are filled with artwork from current residents of the shoppe, after all. Tattooed hands rest ‘gainst cool counter top as he nods. “An artist? Ah, perhaps we may have a few, myself included. Perhaps, yes. Is there… something you’re looking for in particular? I’m sure I can help, somehow.”

UNPROMPTED      /       always accepting       // @hatobureiika

[florasi]

this, too, did not seem important, & he indolently closed his eyes again. the hustle & bustle of the small café is deafening as he meanders to the counter brazenly with head bowed back. elbow knocks against a cup waiting on the counter, reflexes sharp, as he catches the hot drink before it drops too far, turning the cup over to peer at the name. drink is held out, ❝ sorry to whoever's drink this is, no damage though. ❞ / kouki

(   ✿   ) PERHAPS HE’S A BIT OF A TEA FIEND. Not that he’s ever actively admit that per, himself. However, his livelihood has been staked on one too many kettles worth of steeped tea. Certainly, now is no different where he chases the sleep that wants to linger in his eyes and pull heavy lids down with tea at a local café. It’s nothing particularly exciting and nothing he couldn’t make at home himself nor the shoppe in which he partakes, but it’s nice to be out sometimes– lest he hermit himself away amongst throes of leaflets and ink bottles. 

Perhaps he’s spaced out despite his best efforts to keep mind present in reality; rather than causing his own type of fitted worry amongst the accumulation of clientele work and designs he need complete sometime in the near future. Placing a mental pin in his own inner havoc to pick back up later, the artist chases after his order he assumes is ready at this point. Lashes downcast to feet, awaiting the man ahead of him to retrieve his drink and part way - because Mae’s never one to hurry and disturb someone in their space (he’s increasingly patient). 

And it’s a quick motion– somewhat stiffening the chaotic happening with a fluid motion that nearly has jade shocked at it’s own visuals. The assumed tumble, clatter, and cascade of drink contents not gracing the bustling room. Rather, the man extends his hold outward to anyone willing to witness name written crudely ‘pon cup. ‘May’. Well, it was close enough, wasn’t it? 

Pardon his smile, gentle in its wake as it splits across cheeks as hand gently reaches up to wave the attention to himself before retrieving it from the savior of its doom. 

     “Ah, I believe that may be mine. Thank you for saving it.”

UNPROMPTED      /       always accepting       // @hatobureiika