PART 2
DURARARA!! KINK MEME PT.2
You know the drill! Request, Write, Read, all that good stuff.
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.
Head on over to part 3 instead!
PART 2 OVERFLOW POST
part 1 | part 1 Overflow | part 2 | part 2 Overflow | part 3 | part 4 | part 4 Overflow | part 5 | part 6 | part 6 Overflow | part 7 | part 7 Overflow | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | ( Read more... )
You know the drill! Request, Write, Read, all that good stuff.
REQUESTS ARE CLOSED.
Head on over to part 3 instead!
PART 2 OVERFLOW POST
part 1 | part 1 Overflow | part 2 | part 2 Overflow | part 3 | part 4 | part 4 Overflow | part 5 | part 6 | part 6 Overflow | part 7 | part 7 Overflow | part 8 | part 9 | part 10 | ( Read more... )
The inciting incident started with Colonel Sanders.
Izaya had never been a huge fan of fried food (or fast food in general for that matter), but this made his hatred personal. The Colonel’s grinning, goateed face had left an impressive budding bruise along Izaya’s upper arm, and if the informant didn’t get a move on right now, the smug bastard was promising a bucket of extra crispy concussions and a side order of internal bleeding.
Shizuo let out another of his trademarked feral howls, and swung the giant ceramic replica like a customized baseball bat as the restaurant workers looked on in awed horror. Izaya, by virtue of a skip backwards and a quick pivot against the nearby curb, launched upwards to use the Colonel’s head as a stepping stone, intent on triumphantly kicking Shizu-chan in the face. Time seemed to slow as his next step tapped against the Colonel’s vest and his body angled towards the furious blond whose eyes were widening in alarm. Izaya’s other leg swung forward, sailing towards its target in a rush of-
Izaya was suddenly flying backwards as his senses accelerated back into real time and he inexplicably found himself dangling in the air, multiple feet from his target. Oh come on-
“Is no good, this fight. Grown men should not act as children.”
Suddenly and brutally assaulted by flashbacks of his high school days, Izaya gave a half hearted struggle that only succeeded in making Simon tighten his grip on the informant’s shirt. Shizuo, in a similar predicament, was punching against the hand that held him by the collar. Fists that routinely shattered concrete didn’t even earn a flinch from the Russian.
“Stop,” Simon demanded as Izaya was contemplating the merits of sacrificing his shirt in the name of escape. To punctuate the statement, the massive man gave both captives a frustrated shake that left Izaya feeling like a rat in the mouth of a terrier. “Is tiring. You come. Eat sushi. Talk. We will end stupidity.” With that, Simon shifted so that he had a combatant dangling over each shoulder as he stalked back towards the entrance of Russian Sushi. Uncertain whether he was more irritated by the intervention or by the fact Simon could pull off this act just as easily as when Izaya had been an adolescent, the informant settled for sending a death glare towards Shizuo. Shizuo was too busy seizuring in a fit of inarticulate rage to appreciate the effect.
As they entered the shop, a heavy silence fell over Russian Sushi. Though his field of vision was limited, Izaya got the sense that the restaurant was filled with diners. It took a lot of people to achieve that quality of packed silence. That would just figure. The one time Simon actually had customers, he decided it was time for public humiliation. Izaya determined on the spot that he would savor the revenge he cooked up for the sushi chef.
There was a quick, disorienting swirl of movement, and Izaya found himself plopped down next to Shizuo at the sushi bar. Taking advantage of Simon’s distraction as he moved behind the bar, Izaya pushed off of the counter and bolted towards the exit. He had just enough time to take in all of the shocked, staring faces of the other diners (hey! There was Dotachin and his group!) when he felt the traitorous neckline of his shirt constricting his windpipe.
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