(no subject)
[Backdated to Tuesday.]
Mokuba was grounded. It was likely everyone in Domino now knew about it. He was following the rules, he hadn't used the game room, though he still ghosted the internet every once and awhile. He didn't call anyone, he'd just sit on the couch and read, or sleep. He'd done a lot of sleeping. He'd put together that resume for the Private School.
But overall, it had been a boring three days.
He hadn't heard from Bakura since then, whether it was Mokuba's fault or Bakura's, he wasn't sure. It might have been nice to know if the Hilton had let him in, like they were supposed to.
Mokuba had called. Of course he'd called. He'd given them the number to his Bank Card, and told that someone would ask for the card, and they were supposed to give it to them. Then again, the Hilton could be enormously snotty sometimes. If he showed up drunk or dirty, they might try to send him out the door again.
Hopefully, they hadn't.
So, even though it was against the strict rules of his punishment, Mokuba had snuck out to go see him. Likely he'd find him wasted on the floor, beer bottles making an impromptu rug for the expensive carpeting. Hopefully he hadn't mooched more and billed them on his hotel stay.
But likely, he had, and his brother would be able to see the expenses on the card, and would assume he'd gone to the Hilton to get liquored up.
Great.
Then again, Mokuba could sleep an extra hour these days, and his brother would get mad at him. It was almost impossible to avoid.
His brother wanted to talk. In fact, he was likely itching for it. He'd come into the kitchen, while Mokuba was musing over the newspaper and some cereal, and just stand there, coffee in hand. Like his mere presence would make Mokuba burst into conversation, explaining in simple terms what exactly was wrong and what he could do to fix it. Mokuba almost wished that would happen, but all he'd managed so far was a glance before flipping to the crossword.
It was almost suffocating to even think about talking to his brother. So? He was avoiding it, at all costs. Even if that meant he was grounded until he was of legal age to leave the mansion. Only 360-something days left.
The woman at the desk printed him a key-card, so he wouldn't have to knock. Knowing Bakura, he probably should knock anyway. There was no knowing what he could be doing in there -- Masturbating, having sex, cutting up some maid because he felt like it -- and Mokuba had no intention of walking in on any of it.
This visit would probably be a short one. He'd only come armed with some food, which Isono had happily whipped up. It looked like rice, some sort of flavored chicken, ramen, steamed broccoli. Maybe a piece of cake at the bottom. The cake Shizuka had made up, though, and had left for Isono to decorate.
That girl seemed to always be sleeping, baking, or waiting for his brother.
Perhaps he should feel worse, about getting her mad enough at his brother to make her leave. But he hadn't said anything that wasn't true -- or at least, true in some way. His brother probably was less hiding her and more working too much.
He did feel a little bad, that she'd gotten upset. But really, what was he supposed to do?
Everything was stowed in a plastic containers, which had been tossed in a plastic bag. It likely wasn't as warm as it had been, but there was probably a microwave hidden in this suite somewhere...
Mokuba knocked loudly before letting himself in, pocketing the key and the sunglasses.
"Hello?" he called, setting the bags on a table. It was a suite, so he'd apparently walked into a TV room. He wonder how many rooms there were in this place ... he'd had four when he was here last, but this one was subliminally cheaper.
[Tag, TK.]
Mokuba was grounded. It was likely everyone in Domino now knew about it. He was following the rules, he hadn't used the game room, though he still ghosted the internet every once and awhile. He didn't call anyone, he'd just sit on the couch and read, or sleep. He'd done a lot of sleeping. He'd put together that resume for the Private School.
But overall, it had been a boring three days.
He hadn't heard from Bakura since then, whether it was Mokuba's fault or Bakura's, he wasn't sure. It might have been nice to know if the Hilton had let him in, like they were supposed to.
Mokuba had called. Of course he'd called. He'd given them the number to his Bank Card, and told that someone would ask for the card, and they were supposed to give it to them. Then again, the Hilton could be enormously snotty sometimes. If he showed up drunk or dirty, they might try to send him out the door again.
Hopefully, they hadn't.
So, even though it was against the strict rules of his punishment, Mokuba had snuck out to go see him. Likely he'd find him wasted on the floor, beer bottles making an impromptu rug for the expensive carpeting. Hopefully he hadn't mooched more and billed them on his hotel stay.
But likely, he had, and his brother would be able to see the expenses on the card, and would assume he'd gone to the Hilton to get liquored up.
Great.
Then again, Mokuba could sleep an extra hour these days, and his brother would get mad at him. It was almost impossible to avoid.
His brother wanted to talk. In fact, he was likely itching for it. He'd come into the kitchen, while Mokuba was musing over the newspaper and some cereal, and just stand there, coffee in hand. Like his mere presence would make Mokuba burst into conversation, explaining in simple terms what exactly was wrong and what he could do to fix it. Mokuba almost wished that would happen, but all he'd managed so far was a glance before flipping to the crossword.
It was almost suffocating to even think about talking to his brother. So? He was avoiding it, at all costs. Even if that meant he was grounded until he was of legal age to leave the mansion. Only 360-something days left.
The woman at the desk printed him a key-card, so he wouldn't have to knock. Knowing Bakura, he probably should knock anyway. There was no knowing what he could be doing in there -- Masturbating, having sex, cutting up some maid because he felt like it -- and Mokuba had no intention of walking in on any of it.
This visit would probably be a short one. He'd only come armed with some food, which Isono had happily whipped up. It looked like rice, some sort of flavored chicken, ramen, steamed broccoli. Maybe a piece of cake at the bottom. The cake Shizuka had made up, though, and had left for Isono to decorate.
That girl seemed to always be sleeping, baking, or waiting for his brother.
Perhaps he should feel worse, about getting her mad enough at his brother to make her leave. But he hadn't said anything that wasn't true -- or at least, true in some way. His brother probably was less hiding her and more working too much.
He did feel a little bad, that she'd gotten upset. But really, what was he supposed to do?
Everything was stowed in a plastic containers, which had been tossed in a plastic bag. It likely wasn't as warm as it had been, but there was probably a microwave hidden in this suite somewhere...
Mokuba knocked loudly before letting himself in, pocketing the key and the sunglasses.
"Hello?" he called, setting the bags on a table. It was a suite, so he'd apparently walked into a TV room. He wonder how many rooms there were in this place ... he'd had four when he was here last, but this one was subliminally cheaper.
[Tag, TK.]