Bad News, Kitty Cat

[troubleinleather]

          “I feel so attacked right now.”

[troubleinleather]

"The kitty cat is one of the ones in the hot seat, hm?" Edo murmured with a smirk, rather enjoying the whole ideal of the trial, so why not see if he could get anything out of one of the biggest suspects? "So, wanna tell me why we shouldn't think you're the one who killed that poor boy?"

          “Uh, other than the fact that it makes no sense? Like, first of all, I don’t normally wear black, I only have this—” he gestures to the generic coat he’s wearing. “—because there weren’t white coats in the store. Two, with my claws, I wouldn’t need a knife. Three, if I murdered, it would be the icy bitch for a second time, not some air-headed guy in leopard print.”

[troubleinleather]

"Hm??" izaya leaned in closer to the other. "Scratches huh? Well they say that it was a struggle! So, having scratches could indicate you went through a struggle, now wouldn't it?"

          “…or it indicates that I’m a cat who had an itch to scratch.”

[troubleinleather]

Izaya smiled at the other. "So, Kitty Cat! Do you have any scratches, wounds? Also what is your power? Mind if I look you over?"

          “You wish,” Chat replies, pulling his jacket around himself. It was chilly enough sometimes. Couldn’t they turn the heat up? “I’ve got scratches, what of it? Claws’ll do that, y’know.”

[troubleinleather]

stulticaeruleum‌:

@troubleinleather from here

「 🎶」 – Gold eyes bore down into green and the shadow could feel the regret pouring from Blanc. It must be hard to look at an alternate version of your lover who is still alive and kicking. It wasn’t easy for Shato either. Every time he looked at Blanc his throat closed up and it felt like he had hands around it, claws digging into his flesh. “Tell me your alibi.” As much as he wanted to sneer he couldn’t. His voice was still soft, melodious, like someone playing a musical instrument.

“Tell me your alibi, and most importantly, tell me what you did to me? Every time I look at you I feel…..claws around my throat. I feel like I’m suffocating. Blanc, what did you do to the me that you loved…..love?” The question had been eating at him since he first heard that he had been killed. He wants to know.

Can he even trust Blanc to tell the truth?

          Shit, seeing Shato hurt. It didn’t matter if he looked away because Shato could still talk and reminds him of so much. Those were things he never wanted to remember and now there was no need.

          “I was in my room reading. Not much else to do.” Plus, with most stuff in Japanese, he would be irritated — but he’d ‘read’ plenty of untranslated manga before anyway. It wasn’t much of a bother to him. “And what I did...that doesn’t matter. But my claws were never around your throat and you never felt a thing.”

[heartpirates]

[troubleinleather]

The shadow crosses his arms and steps on the cats tail.

          His first instinct is to yelp when someone steps on his tail — contrary to his younger self, it was real — and the next is to angrily yell at whoever had been stupid enough to do so. Eyes snap open and he doesn’t immediately register who it is until he’s shot up into a sitting position and familiar gold eyes mirror his.

          Words don’t come, so he stubbornly looks away and doesn’t say a word. Why Shato? Why couldn’t it have been anybody else?

[troubleinleather]

          You could ask him for his alibi...but you’d have to wake him up first.

[troubleinleather]

          He still remembers Shato’s blood on his hands. Seeing this other version of him wasn’t easy at all — and now the secret was out there for everyone to know. His lover, his Shato, was gone and it was his fault.

                    ( — at least he got to see Minato again. )

          But the best reaction was no reaction at all. He had his Lady — and that was enough. That had to be enough. These prisoners could judge him all they wanted, but all that mattered now was that things were already said and done.

          He couldn’t change the past, even if he tried.

[troubleinleather]

catastrophex‌: 

@troubleinleather liked for a shattered dimensions starter

Adrien does a double take in his aimless pacing, and quickly stops dead, seeing a white clad version of his heroic form, and he has to fight the urge to take off his glasses and clean them. As much he he logically knows that something on his lenses couldn’t cause him to see what- who he is seeing, he still can’t quite believe it.

                “… uh. Chat… Blanc?” Adrien questions slowly, approaching him. Adrien hasn’t really… uh, at all talked to anyone here, so he’s not sure why he is now.

No, he knows why. Curiosity. Even if Plagg is gone, he is still Chat Noir, and you know what they say about cats and curiosity… 

          Others were a little more freaked out than him—honestly, with all he’d dealt with in his life, superhero or villain, a little game of murder didn’t scare him. Only one thing did and that was the minuscule chance that he’d lose his Lady. Ah, but she was strong and capable.

          “Yes?” he says, before he even bothers to turn around—when he does, his own face looks back at him, wide-eyed and with glasses of all things, but himself nonetheless...as Adrien Agreste, at least. It was strange, if nothing else. Another him, a happier him maybe? “What do you want?”

[troubleinleather]

@starsmusestation

“You’re right, I’m not a Warden anymore, but I was. I know what my Lady and I did for you people.”

“Maybe I made a mistake, but Nikki’s not fucking dead. You’re all fucking idiots.”

[troubleinleather]

“We gave you so much. We gave you so fucking much and yet we show you no mercy?”

“We give you endless food, warm, comfortable beds, accommodations for all the different types of creatures, including that tiny bitch, yet we’re truly so horrible?

“We give you shelter, a party, water guns, movies and games, yet we’re evil?

“We give you a hospital and trained professionals who saved lives, yet we receive no thanks for not leaving them to die?

“We gave you only a few rules to follow. We installed no curfew, no off-limits areas, yet you blame us for only what has gone wrong?

“You’re pathetic. We gave you a game and its rules and gave you many tools to succeed, yet you only whine about poison?

“You’re pathetic.”

[troubleinleather]

The Shadow hummed as he moved to sit next to the ex-warden. Not saying anything he moved his face close to Blanc's and sealed their lips together. It was short and chaste. "You haven't fucked us up. Give everyone a chance. They'll come around. You're like the rest of us, and even before...you gave us a lot and they just are too blind to fucking see it."

“I didn’t give you anything. Those ideas were my lady’s.” 

That was a lie. He had confessed to Shato that the hospital had been his idea, but he knew how the others felt about him. If they were going to hate him anyway, why not make them like Marionette more?

Even so, the ghost of lips on his warmed his body a bit, relaxed him despite the pain. Shato was fairly fired up.

“So who lit a fire under your ass?”

[troubleinleather]

"You're lucky you're not fucking dead. Ruining my shirt." It was meant as playful banter and honestly, Shato still couldn't help but smile at it. "What happened? Tell me everything."

“I’ve ruined more than your shirt, Shato, and you know it.”

Shifting himself, he hissed at the pain in his arms and sides. Right. Lyall had taken a number on him before he passed out the night before.

“I can’t tell you much, only that I got fucked.”

[troubleinleather]

He awoke to a dull throbbing in various parts of his body. He didn’t dare open his eyes at first, hoping that maybe he could go back to sleep. Some rustling in the room roused him, sending him straight into a sitting position, looking around wildly.

Shato was here — where were they? Not his room, for sure. Oh, it was a dorm. He was on one of the couches, and his body ached. He was dressed in black. Oh. Right. He’d been knocked down a few pegs. That much couldn’t be denied, though he didn’t like it.

Yawning, he shook his head quickly.

“Well, I’m not dead. Passed Step 1.”

[troubleinleather]

He’s dragging Marionette to bed. For your troubles, he’s put on a final song: “Macarena.”

[troubleinleather]

How dare she. Obviously “My Humps” is a better choice in songs.