bad break

❝they say the misfortune of others tastes like honey❞ 1 kills ❊ 1 deaths ❊ 1 executions room #121 ► shsl fake ass bitch

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[pitchdevil-deactivated20141005]

     The infirmary at any given time was inhabited by either murderers, or victims, most of which were in here to recover from an execution, or a death by other less ‘merciful’ means. It meant this place, compared to others where mutual killing ran rampant, was a safe zone. That’s how it worked in theory, anyhow. Sure, it could have been empty and a criminal mastermind could have been lying in wait for any unsuspecting islanders to step in needing medication for a headache or perhaps a bandage for a paper cut, but what were the chances of that? Kcalb, heels clicking across the tiled floor of the mostly-empty infirmary, needed the latter of the two easy treatments.

     It was only a small slash on his middle finger from his diary, but blood wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and he wanted it covered up. Approaching the far wall with eyes set on the gray cabinets overhead, he reached up and curled his fingers around the stainless, cold, silver handle, pulling it open and reaching to the top shelf where the small bandages were kept. Kcalb set the box down, opening it and reaching inside to… Was it just his intuition acting up again for no reason, or was this room not as empty as he thought it would be? He had no perfectly acute senses like Etihw’s powers allowed her to have, omnipotence and all that noise, but he still was seldom incorrect in his hunches. 

     As he applied the bandage to the unimportant cut on his finger, he turned to survey the room. Overhead, the fluorescent lights hummed and bathed the room in their magnificently bright glow, highlighting all the empty beds with their disheveled covers and one head of black hair. Ah? Who was that? He looked familiar, but the only time Kcalb ever saw someone like that was at the trial.

     … Oh. So it was the one who choked whats-his-name on the beach and threatened him, claiming he would have gotten away with it had Kcalb not shot his alibi down like he was playing duck hunt with bullshit lies. Fukin’ incredible chances to meet him here upon revival. The way he coughed and hacked and fought for every breath of air didn’t fly over the sympathetic Devil’s head though. He was forgiving. Terribly so. Setting the bandages back upon the highest shelf and closing the cabinet, he tentatively walked, heels a-clicking, over to the murderer’s bedside. 

     ”… Are you alright?” 

[tarantulaer-blog]

The voice addressing him, even if vaguely familiar, startled him. Finding out he wasn't as alone as he thought —or rather, his senses believed— was the last thing he expected. A few moments of solitude and silence would have been just what he needed, but it seemed even after having his sins paid for, he wouldn't find peace again that easily. Though luck; something he would have let slide if not for the circumstances and his struggling to put his thoughts in order still being very present.

Although the teen had found it dificcult to focus instants before, recognizing the other's figure took him less than a second. How could he ever forget the features of the one that indirectly brought demise upon him? The disgusting creature he had sworn to ge revenge on. Regrettably, he was sure he would never be able to bury his face in the back of his mind, not even if he at last got his hands on him. The idea made him grimace. 

"Does this look alright to you?" The raven had been since long done with fake courtesy, words being almost snarled at the other. No, he wasn't going to make the effort to put on his honor student mask for him, not when his sole presence made his blood boil.

In a brief moment of clarity amidst a sea of rancorous thoughts, the situation striked him as strange. Surely, the other couldn't have been there explicitly for him; Hanamiya didn't remember seeing a single trace of regret not concern for him at the end of the trial—his trial. Perhaps it was resentment just clouding his memory, but that mattered little to him, if anything at all. This was ridiculous, and he could taste the irony in this situation; bitter and cold, just like his expression. "Of all the people I could've seen right after I wake up, it had to be you." A click of his tongue, and then he focuses his gaze on the male opposite. "What the hell do you want?" 

[praestrigiae]

                 { ✘♟✘ }

Wake upon noises is subtle, gentle, even. If naught for obvious shift to place herself sitting against the hall’s wall, and cracking open of crusted eyes, it would be presumed girl was still asleep; or, if the onlooker weren’t to see the rise and fall of chest, possibly dead    

                                                      But even then, the sudden                                                       thump and groan would alert                                                       them to the possibility of girl                                                       not being in state of death.   

❝ …dha gha- ❞

                                                      Mouth snaps shut with the                                                       cloying taste of sleep still                                                       dissolving on her tongue.                                                       Attempt at speech still rings                                                       in ears, embarrassment                                                        clouding vision. In righting                                                       herself to sitting position, not                                                       taking care to assess where                                                       she is, girl puts series of basic                                                       hand motions in their order                                                       in reminder of muteness and                                                       utter failure in terms of                                                       communication.

Gaze if directed upward only at the sound of footsteps; yet the motions do not stop, merely slow.

[tarantulaer-blog]

It's not everyday the teen comes across a scene apparently so common amidst the inhabitants of this island. Grey hues lock with the body placed against the wall, the setting seemingly perfect to be that of a murder. Skepticism makes an eyebrow raise, if only slightly, since it's widely known that appearances can be deceiving.

Silently, hands hidden in his pockets, the raven stands still and watches from a safe distance. It's just a few moments later, when he's about to give up, that ears catch a hint of a groan, and though that could also mean she's hurt, it's enough to set him walking in the other student's direction. Concern is not his motivation, though; simply put, he's bad at minding his own business.

He approaches the petite figure with serene pace and a questioning look in his eyes. Upon closer examination he notices the movements of her hands, motions only arousing his curiosity further, if not making the situation all the more peculiar. What an oddball.

"You okay?"

[tarantulaer-blog]

slave to the bullseye → ???

It really had been a stroke of luck, finding a few lone darts in one of the market's shelves. He would have had no problem making some himself, but this would save him time and the hassle of searching for the most appropriate materials.

After quickly going over the available places in the island, he hardly needed time to decide that the sides of the rundown cabin would be his first victim, seeing as the lack of dart boards in the hotel left him with very few places to play. Hanamiya should be grateful he even had a chance at taking up his hobby again, but no; it was much easier to be annoyed at something that had a simple solution.

Eyeing one of the windows, the raven stood calmly a few feet away from it, fixing his gaze in the center of the wooden frame. It had been a while since he had last played, but he had never been lacking in confidence, especially regarding something he considered to be his specialty. With a dart held firmly in his right hand, he lifted it and aimed, launching the object straight forward not even two seconds later. Bullseye. So he hadn't lost his touch just yet.

A proud smirk upturned his lips and he kept sending the darts flying to the spots he found most convenient, not failing one single time. Just as got ready to throw the last one, he stood completely still. He had been ignoring the feeling for a couple minutes already, but the sensation of being watched had still not gone away. If circumstances on the island were to not make him feel the need to stay alert, Hanamiya would have probably disregarded the situation from the very beginning.

He shifted his head, if only slightly, to take a quick look behind him; the grip on his dart tightening in an unconscious gesture.

"Do you think I'm an idiot? Show yourself."

[tarantulaer-blog]

☺♣★

☺ - Do they prefer sour or sweet treats?

Sour. 100% cocoa chocolate bars will be his downfall. 

♣ - What is one thing that they find embarrassing?

Perhaps not entirely embarrassing, but his usual jumpiness around a certain senior of his are sure to make him regret every single second of their very seldom encounters. He’s also really easy to startle, and while he pulls himself together rather quickly, it’s still something he would rather not talk about.

★ - Do they prefer daytime or nighttime and why?

Daytime usually means dealing with people, school, and plenty of other things that can potentially annoy him or ruin his mood in a matter of minutes. He isn’t a night owl, but he does appreciate having some time for himself, finding comfort in the last hours of the day and the serenity they often ensure.

[tarantulaer-blog]

♥♠♦

♥ - What does ‘love’ mean to them?

♠ - What are they afraid of?

♦ - What is one thing about them that they are most proud of?

His own ability to fool others. Even if it wasn’t meant for doing any good, Hanamiya worked hard throughout the years to build himself up a believable persona and a reputation that would help him get away with murder whenever possible. And it was quite a work of art, considering he managed to make not one but two coaches quit because of his schemes.

[tarantulaer-blog]

☮

☮ - Do they have an idol or someone they look up to?

No one, really. Who needs an idol when you yourself are someone to be admired (regardless of whether it is for a good or a bad reason)? But perhaps the Detroit Pistons have something to do with Hanamiya’s own on-court mayhem.

[tarantulaer-blog]

♥ ♠ ✓ ♔

♥ - What does 'love' mean to them?

♠ - What are they afraid of?

There’s literally just one single person capable of making him scream like a baby, and it happens to be one of his seniors from middle school.

✓ - How do they react to praise?

Depends on what mask he’s wearing. If he’s playing pretend and being a good boy, he’ll be as modest as it gets. If he’s just being his usual self, he will probably dismiss any form of praise and brush it off as if it was nothing worth wasting his breath on.

♔ - Do they value loyalty?

It’s not high on his list of preferences, but he does indeed hold those loyal to him in high regard… somewhat. Since there seems to be a downside to every positive aspect of his character, he also expects them to follow him at all times; questioning his choices is also out of question.

[tarantulaer-blog]

♥, ✕, ☠

♥ - What does ‘love’ mean to them? 

Nothing but an abstract concept he’s fed up reading and hearing about. He perceives it as an strong emotion but has never felt it himself to that extent, so not only is he uninterested in the notion, but he also believes that love is, put simply, not made for him.

✕ - How do they handle rejection?

Badly, but depends on who is rejecting him and why. Nonetheless and like the prideful bastard he is, Hanamiya will act like it doesn’t affect him when it’s actually quite the opposite, since any form of hurting his ego will upset him to no end.

☠ - How do they react to death?

Death is something natural, and thus he sees it just like that. He simply accepts it as an inevitable fate. Besides, there’s barely any people he would properly mourn, and Hanamiya himself isn’t afraif of death (unless he’d find himself in a life-death situation, probably).

[tarantulaer-blog]

♥ - What does ‘love’ mean to them? 

♠ - What are they afraid of?

♦ - What is one thing about them that they are most proud of?

♣ - What is one thing that they find embarrassing? (About them, others, things in general)

★ - Do they prefer daytime or nighttime and why?

☾- Are they prone to nightmares or dreamless sleep?

☼ - Something that/Someone who makes them happy.

☁ - If they’re caught out in the rain how do they react?

♪ - Are they musically inclined? 

♫ - What kind of music do they enjoy?

✓ - How do they react to praise?

✕ - How do they handle rejection?

☺ - Do they prefer sour or sweet treats?

❄ -  Favourite season and why?

☮ - Do they have an idol or someone they look up to?

❤ - Do they have a love interest?

✖ - Who is someone they just cannot stand?

♔ - Do they value loyalty?

♕ - Do they trust easily?

☠ - How do they react to death?

[scarletxchains-blog]

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[scarletxchains-blog]

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[scarletxchains-blog]

Super bitch?

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scarletxchains replied to your post:It was with shock plastered onto his features that...

disgusting

Bitch?

[tarantulaer-blog]

It was with shock plastered onto his features that he realized he wasn't dead anymore. The lights in the infirmary felt blinding, made his eyes feel itchy, yet he never closed them on his own volition. It was something he would never admit, but the fear of closing his eyes and returning to the darkness was all too present at that moment.

In one swift movement, he sat up on the bed as greyish hues fought to stay focused on some point--anywhere. Try as he may, his vision was still blurry, the terrors of the trial he never meant to be the protagonist of coming back to him in unwelcome hallucinatory detail. If this is what karma was, it seemed to be paying him back for all the things he had done before at once, and one needn't be a genius to tell from his face that the experience was anything but pleasant.

As if his lungs had forgotten how to function, the raven gasped for air and held a hand to his chest, just as though it would help ease the sharp (if only momentary) pain. He breathed--breathed--and something so mundane had never felt so bittersweet before. A mixture of relief and stress washed over him while, slowly but surely, the teen's heavy breathing gradually became less forced.

In an attempt at pushing the memories to the back of his mind, an equally sour thought messed with his struggling to pull himself together. He didn't want to check his body for scars; not now, not later, because even if they were naught but marks of the past whose meaning he would hopefully overcome in the future, those would still be the atemporal signs of yet another one of his utter and complete failures.

Teeth clencing suddenly, a pitiful excuse of a grunt built at the back of his throat. "Fuck..."

[scarletxchains-blog]

                 ┈「 ❦ 」┈ ► The calm aura surrounding him stemmed from his experience. Lacing his words with rage and irritation was not going to benefit him in this situation. The blond knew losing his cool resulted in him taking rash actions, not something he wanted to do this hell of an island. No. It was an emotion reserved for scums who deserved to face his wrath; not for people like him.

                 In situations where he was required to be assertive, he had no choice but to reveal a forceful side of him. “Those 'flies' you’re referring to clearly know a flea that won’t leave others when they see one.” Black eyes darted to him for a second, implying he was the flea. A fitting title for him since the both of them were equally unwanted. “Rest assured, I won’t let anything happen to me. You should worry about yourself more.”

                               "Makoto Hanamiya, but most know you as Hanamiya."

[tarantulaer-blog]

Although the implication didn't go over his head, it was met with a chortle rather than with any hint of displeasure, which would have been the case if the insult had come from someone he didn't see worthy of his very, very limited patience. Because volatile as the raven was, it wasn't hard to get on his bad side, but he knew that even if he was a flea, he had just located one of those bothersome flies he had mentioned moments ago--and it was right in front of him.

"Well, good for them, huh? You surely know how hard it is sometimes to get rid of fleas, especially when they get comfortable." Grey hues stay fixed on the smaller male, and his smile widens the slightest. He trusted Kurapika would be smart enough to get the hint that it was not Hanamiya's well-being he should be concerning himself with.

"Good boy. Anything else I should be aware of? You know my blood type as well or have you not had enough time to eavesdrop for that?"

[gentleseer]

What you gonna do when an angel falls out the sky? | Hanamiya

[gentleseer]

The instant Natsume felt himself collide with someone else instead of the ground, two conflicting emotions hit him. The first was obvious, being relief. He had been afraid after all, of getting badly hurt again; the memories of the time he’d fallen off a similar cliff were still fresh in his mind. The second was more complicated, a part of him wishing the other person hadn’t caught him, hadn’t even been in the area.

How was he even supposed to begin explaining why, out of absolutely nowhere, he had come to fall off the cliff? He was too far out from the base to explain it away as him having tripped and fallen off the edge. What had it been the last time? They had thought he had done it on purpose…hadn’t they? Cried about why he was doing these things to them. It was an accident. He hadn’t meant to. I’m sorry.

Shakily, he got to his feet, turning to meet the gaze of the one who had caught him, only to freeze when the sight of the raven greeted his eyes.

The feeling of discomfort he had already felt from the circumstance increased twofold. Their last meeting hadn’t gone terribly, but Natsume wasn’t able to say that he had walked away from the experience feeling absolutely at ease. He had seemed cynical of Natsume’s excuses as well, which would be worse for this incident.

It was too much for him to meet the other’s eyes, and he averted his gaze, obviously ill at ease.

"I…fell. I’m sorry…Thanks for the save"

[tarantulaer-blog]

Rather than unable to keep the somewhat approachable facade he had presented in their first meeting, Hanamiya was hardly in the mood for his own usual tricks after such a peculiar encounter--and reading the blond's expression the moment their eyes met, it wasn't all that hard to tell he felt anything but relief at that moment. While he couldn't quite tell why yet, annoyance had replaced shock and made ignoring this small fact easier.

Once Natsume had gotten back on his feet, the taller male followed suit with a grunt, dusting off his pants with a bit too much displeasure showing in one simple gesture. 

"You fell?" If not for his palpable irritation, a chortle would have made it past his lips. "Yeah, bullshit. I could've gotten badly hurt right there. If you're so eager to get yourself killed just go swim with the sharks. You won't get anyone involved that way." Sharp vocables carried not an ounce of concern for the smaller boy but an unsubtle hint of discomfort.

Though assuming jumping off a cliff was a certain way to ask for the inevitable to happen, a quick glance at said overhang was enough to deduce only a few broken bones would result from falling from that height. No one could blame him for becomng suspicious, even if only because such a petty fact. It wasn't the first time he had felt this way around Natsume, and perhaps exasperation freed him from letting his skepticism surface so easily.

"...what were you really doing up there?"