Rubber Duckie Time.
Who: Kabuto & Itachi
When: Post-Auction, Thursday Evening
What: Kabuto wants to groom his new "pet".
Why: He's kind of fucking weird, okay?
Where: Sasuke's apartment/bathroom.
Status: ONGOING.
Carpe diem.
Kabuto cheerfully whistled the Mister Roger’s theme song as he collected the parking ticket from the automatic dispenser and pulled into the garage; he wasn’t entirely certain how the damned song had gotten stuck in his head- he didn’t even remember watching the show when he was a kid- but it wasn’t unfitting. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and it was about to get better with a little visit to his neighbors.
Or maybe this was more of a property visit.
That thought made him laugh.
Itachi was almost certainly going to annihilate him next week regardless of how nicely he played his games with the man this week, so he might as well take advantage of this stunning and rare opportunity to do some things he would never get to do again.
Quirky, eccentric things.
Kabuto continued whistling as he got out of his car and grabbed his worn duffle bag of supplies from the backseat; he’d brought along a change of clothes in addition to everything else. He didn’t expect to get out of this without getting wet. Mister Roger’s melted into “Only the Good Die Young” as he pocketed his keys and headed out to locate the proper apartment in the fading light of the evening. The number was written on a post-it in his pocket, but he didn’t need to look at it. He’d known Sasuke’s address ever since he’d gone through some of Itachi’s files, weeks back.
He knows about that.
Oh yes. Itachi had been both subtle and explicit in regards to his knowledge of that tampering, and the message had been clear.
The risk made this all the more delightfully entertaining for him…as did his unflagging awareness of the certain subsequent punishment.
Kabuto wet his lips, suddenly aware that he was smiling far too broadly. Anticipation- it really does make your mouth water. Huh. Always just thought that was a metaphor.
This was going to be an excellent game.
He tapped the doorbell in annoyingly musical series of jabs.
Hm. Maybe he should have called first…?
…nah!
When: Post-Auction, Thursday Evening
What: Kabuto wants to groom his new "pet".
Why: He's kind of fucking weird, okay?
Where: Sasuke's apartment/bathroom.
Status: ONGOING.
Carpe diem.
Kabuto cheerfully whistled the Mister Roger’s theme song as he collected the parking ticket from the automatic dispenser and pulled into the garage; he wasn’t entirely certain how the damned song had gotten stuck in his head- he didn’t even remember watching the show when he was a kid- but it wasn’t unfitting. It was a beautiful day in the neighborhood, and it was about to get better with a little visit to his neighbors.
Or maybe this was more of a property visit.
That thought made him laugh.
Itachi was almost certainly going to annihilate him next week regardless of how nicely he played his games with the man this week, so he might as well take advantage of this stunning and rare opportunity to do some things he would never get to do again.
Quirky, eccentric things.
Kabuto continued whistling as he got out of his car and grabbed his worn duffle bag of supplies from the backseat; he’d brought along a change of clothes in addition to everything else. He didn’t expect to get out of this without getting wet. Mister Roger’s melted into “Only the Good Die Young” as he pocketed his keys and headed out to locate the proper apartment in the fading light of the evening. The number was written on a post-it in his pocket, but he didn’t need to look at it. He’d known Sasuke’s address ever since he’d gone through some of Itachi’s files, weeks back.
He knows about that.
Oh yes. Itachi had been both subtle and explicit in regards to his knowledge of that tampering, and the message had been clear.
The risk made this all the more delightfully entertaining for him…as did his unflagging awareness of the certain subsequent punishment.
Kabuto wet his lips, suddenly aware that he was smiling far too broadly. Anticipation- it really does make your mouth water. Huh. Always just thought that was a metaphor.
This was going to be an excellent game.
He tapped the doorbell in annoyingly musical series of jabs.
Hm. Maybe he should have called first…?
…nah!