[Log] Toushirou Hitsugaya, Luppi Trepadora
Title: Who do you think you are?
Characters: Toushirou Hitsugaya (kellenanne), Luppi Trepadora (formative)
Timeline: 01 April, 1948
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: Toushirou saves a poor Italian shop owner from being bullied by a girlish mobster. Good intentions pave the road to hell.
Collecting money didn’t rank too high on Luppi Trepadora’s list of fun jobs. Actually, it wasn’t even anywhere on his list of fun jobs. He hadn’t enjoyed it when he was doing this kind of thing for his old man, and he was enjoying it even less these days.
But it was part of his job description, so, he did as he was told. Being a good little soldati could only pay off in the end.
Shoving the door of the small grocery store open, the pretty boy floated inside and offered a polite smile so false it was insulting.
“G’afternoon, Signor Rossi,” he chirped sweetly, as he approached the counter. “It’s ‘tomorrow’ again, and since you’ve used up all your ‘tomorrows’ for this month, I expect you to hand me a nice wad of cabbage in a bag.”
Leaning against the counter casually, Trepadora held out a slender hand and looked at the shop owner expectantly.
“I’m very sorry, mister, but I can’t,” Rossi spluttered, looking anywhere but at the young mobster. “Business wasn’t good this month and… I have to feed family.”
“Cut the crap, old man. My boss has family to feed, too. We all have ‘family’ to feed. Not our fault if your family’s too big,” Luppi hissed silkily, slamming his hand down on the counter. “Want me to lend a hand with that problem, signor?”
The evening was cool and Toushirou regretted not having a heavier coat, rather than his rather light suit jacket. It wasn't bad, though; just a bit chilly and, honestly, it was almost refreshing.
At least, it had been refreshing for the first few minutes. Now all Toushirou wanted to do was get inside and get some coffee. He still had a couple hours yet, closing up this crime scene and he honestly wanted - maybe needed - a hot cup of joe before he could get the rest of this done.
And that was why he was outside in the first place. He had slipped into a small grocery a few blocks from the scene. He had nodded a curt greeting to the man behind the counter and was in the back, mining for something he could grab and eat quickly, when he noted the door opening. Toushirou automatically straightened, because you never knew what might have come up at an open crime scene. Could be one of the other guys, coming to tell him to get his ass back to the scene.
Not without coffee, at least.
But that wasn't one of the guys from the scene, and it certainly wasn't... Well, he wasn't sure, so Toushirou slipped closer and scowled at the conversation.
Conversation. Heh. More like threatening. The kid - Toushirou honestly wasn't sure if this was a man or a woman, not from this angle - slammed his hand against the counter, offered a hand, and Toushirou bristled. Not only was he threatening some shop owner, he was interrupting Toushirou's damned coffee break.
"Lend him a hand," Toushirou said, "and I will help you down to the cooler."
Luppi didn’t like to be interrupted when he was in the middle of something. It was downright rude! Turning his head, he gazed at the source of the voice and raised an eyebrow. Old geezer hair surrounding a baby face. A freak?
“Hey, uncle Rossi,” he purred softly without looking at the petrified store owner. “Who’s your new friend, huh? A customer? Friendly neighbour of yours or maybe police…?” The soldati’s voice trailed off. If this was a copper, Rossi was in for a world of pain, and the old man knew it.
“No, no. Not police. Not police!” Rossi hastened to assure the raven-haired youth and looked at Hitsugaya with panic in his eyes. “He’s just a customer. Really.”
“Just a customer, is he?” Propping his elbows on the counter, Luppi rested his chin on his folded hands and eyed the white-haired man. “Well, why doesn’t customer just get what he came here for and get the fuck outta the store like good customers do? Oops, sorry. Strike the fuck, ‘kay?”
Toushirou followed the conversation - if it could be called that - with narrowed eyes and a sharp concern rising in him. Damn it, damn it, damn it, one of these days he would think before he just walked into things. Announcing himself as a detective now would cause one hell of a situation and, with a glance at Rossi, Toushirou knew full well he didn't want to bring that on. The old man's panic now was more than enough.
"A concerned customer," Toushirou said, and that's all he was right now. Just a customer come in for coffee and a snack on a cold night. One who didn't like having his break interrupted. "Good customers shouldn't have to put up with unsightly interruptions."
Luppi’s eyes remained fixated on that good-hearted, concerned customer. If that’s all the white-haired idiot was, then Luppi was the Queen of Sheba. However, since there really was no reason to start anything bad right now, he pulled his mouth into a friendly smile - which stopped short of his eyes - and stepped away from the counter.
“My apologies, customer,” he chirped, giving Hitsugaya a small mocking bow. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your shopping experience at this dump. Why don’t you tell us what you need? With uncle Rossi’s assistance, you’ll find what your heart desires much faster and can get out of my hair.”
Rossi could kiss his sorry excuse of a shop goodbye. “Oh sorry. I meant get back to whatever it is you do when you’re not busy being a customer.”
As the punk talked - and even gave a small bow - Toushirou found himself more and more tempted to pull his gun and just shoot. This damn bird was irritating.
And dangerous. Toushirou had put himself in a situation. He should congratulate himself later.
"Take a hike," Toushirou said, nodding toward the door. "I got shopping to do." His gaze cut to Rossi, who looked like he was damn close to a heart attack.
Next time, he'd just pull the gun first.
Luppi's fingers twitched, itching to reach for the length of wire in his pocket to silence that self-righteous little fucker who was feeling oh-so-important. He wasn't here for a killing, though. He was here to collect money.
Since it seemed like his mission had failed thanks to the freak and the useless old geezer behind the counter, there was no reason to stay and subject himself to more verbal abuse and mental torture.
Trepadora gave Toushirou a smile that was all teeth and flicked invisible dust off of his jacket. "Yes, sir!" he purred and lifted his hand in a mock salute.
As he turned around, however, his icy gaze fell upon Rossi and the slender hand made a quick inconspicuous move for the old shop owner's eyes only. End of the rope. No more tomorrows.
"Have a good time and enjoy your shopping while you can, customer-prig."
Toushirou glanced down at the twitching fingers, stilling in that moment, tensed and waiting for the bastard to do something stupid. When the bastard turned away with his mocking salute and "sir", that tense feeling didn't ease in the slightest.
"See you around," he said, trying - and failing - to force a casual ease into his voice that just wouldn't come.
Shoot first next time, Toushirou. Don't even try talking.
Luppi floated out of the small shop, irritation distorting his too pretty features into a grimace, and walked away. Determinedly he marched down the street, gnashing his teeth, as he imagined ripping off that white-haired asshole’s head and shoving it up his arse to let him check out the weather in there.
Fuck him! Fuck that old geezer and fuck the Con- oh no! Not that. Never that. The girlish mobster would never allow himself to even think what he’d almost thought. ‘Bad Luppi,’ he chastised himself. ‘Mustn’t blame them ever. They took you in remember? You just have to work on yourself. Improve yourself. Yes, yes. And now let’s give old Rossi a nice welcome home present.’
Trepadora arrived at Rossi’s home and knocked politely. Mrs Rossi was kind enough to let him in - not that she had any other choice. When the young man left half an hour later, all of his irritation was gone. He was smiling happily and humming a lullaby under his breath. There was a tiny streak of red on his collar and if anyone had bothered to look closely, they would have noticed that the boy’s hands were not as lily white as they normally were, and that there were thin red lines under his nails.
But here people had learnt not to look at people like Trepadora at all if they could avoid it.
There was nothing Toushirou would have liked to do more than to follow the bastard out of the store and continue this confrontation. One wrong move and Toushirou could have him cuffed and dragged down to the station. One wrong move. Just one and Toushirou was sure, with the right words, he could provoke him into doing something that warranted arrest. If the twitching fingers from earlier were any indication, this bastard was a hot-tempered little freak.
Toushirou, though, stood his ground when he left, making a note to memorize the bastard's face, his voice, the way he talked... Everything. He waited until he was gone and then turned to Rossi, somewhere between anger and regret.
He hadn't meant to cause the man problems and Rossi looked like he was this close to a heart attack. Dropping dead of fright or something. "Leave town if you want a chance of seeing the morning," Toushirou told him. Rossi opened his mouth and Toushirou didn't want to hear. Probably be condemning him for messing with the status quo. Rossi'd be almost right to do it, right now. He slapped most of the cash in his wallet down on the counter - it wasn't much, he never carried much - and gave Rossi a hard look. "Keep the change."
He left the store a few minutes after the boy, gaze roving carefully over the darkened streets. The bastard was nowhere to be seen and Toushirou wasn't sure what he could do even if he'd seen the boy, other than confront and provoke. He sighed and crossed his arms, glancing back at the store and then out into the streets and alleys.
Damn it, but this city was a far cry from Erie.
Characters: Toushirou Hitsugaya (kellenanne), Luppi Trepadora (formative)
Timeline: 01 April, 1948
Rating: PG-13 (for language)
Summary: Toushirou saves a poor Italian shop owner from being bullied by a girlish mobster. Good intentions pave the road to hell.
Collecting money didn’t rank too high on Luppi Trepadora’s list of fun jobs. Actually, it wasn’t even anywhere on his list of fun jobs. He hadn’t enjoyed it when he was doing this kind of thing for his old man, and he was enjoying it even less these days.
But it was part of his job description, so, he did as he was told. Being a good little soldati could only pay off in the end.
Shoving the door of the small grocery store open, the pretty boy floated inside and offered a polite smile so false it was insulting.
“G’afternoon, Signor Rossi,” he chirped sweetly, as he approached the counter. “It’s ‘tomorrow’ again, and since you’ve used up all your ‘tomorrows’ for this month, I expect you to hand me a nice wad of cabbage in a bag.”
Leaning against the counter casually, Trepadora held out a slender hand and looked at the shop owner expectantly.
“I’m very sorry, mister, but I can’t,” Rossi spluttered, looking anywhere but at the young mobster. “Business wasn’t good this month and… I have to feed family.”
“Cut the crap, old man. My boss has family to feed, too. We all have ‘family’ to feed. Not our fault if your family’s too big,” Luppi hissed silkily, slamming his hand down on the counter. “Want me to lend a hand with that problem, signor?”
The evening was cool and Toushirou regretted not having a heavier coat, rather than his rather light suit jacket. It wasn't bad, though; just a bit chilly and, honestly, it was almost refreshing.
At least, it had been refreshing for the first few minutes. Now all Toushirou wanted to do was get inside and get some coffee. He still had a couple hours yet, closing up this crime scene and he honestly wanted - maybe needed - a hot cup of joe before he could get the rest of this done.
And that was why he was outside in the first place. He had slipped into a small grocery a few blocks from the scene. He had nodded a curt greeting to the man behind the counter and was in the back, mining for something he could grab and eat quickly, when he noted the door opening. Toushirou automatically straightened, because you never knew what might have come up at an open crime scene. Could be one of the other guys, coming to tell him to get his ass back to the scene.
Not without coffee, at least.
But that wasn't one of the guys from the scene, and it certainly wasn't... Well, he wasn't sure, so Toushirou slipped closer and scowled at the conversation.
Conversation. Heh. More like threatening. The kid - Toushirou honestly wasn't sure if this was a man or a woman, not from this angle - slammed his hand against the counter, offered a hand, and Toushirou bristled. Not only was he threatening some shop owner, he was interrupting Toushirou's damned coffee break.
"Lend him a hand," Toushirou said, "and I will help you down to the cooler."
Luppi didn’t like to be interrupted when he was in the middle of something. It was downright rude! Turning his head, he gazed at the source of the voice and raised an eyebrow. Old geezer hair surrounding a baby face. A freak?
“Hey, uncle Rossi,” he purred softly without looking at the petrified store owner. “Who’s your new friend, huh? A customer? Friendly neighbour of yours or maybe police…?” The soldati’s voice trailed off. If this was a copper, Rossi was in for a world of pain, and the old man knew it.
“No, no. Not police. Not police!” Rossi hastened to assure the raven-haired youth and looked at Hitsugaya with panic in his eyes. “He’s just a customer. Really.”
“Just a customer, is he?” Propping his elbows on the counter, Luppi rested his chin on his folded hands and eyed the white-haired man. “Well, why doesn’t customer just get what he came here for and get the fuck outta the store like good customers do? Oops, sorry. Strike the fuck, ‘kay?”
Toushirou followed the conversation - if it could be called that - with narrowed eyes and a sharp concern rising in him. Damn it, damn it, damn it, one of these days he would think before he just walked into things. Announcing himself as a detective now would cause one hell of a situation and, with a glance at Rossi, Toushirou knew full well he didn't want to bring that on. The old man's panic now was more than enough.
"A concerned customer," Toushirou said, and that's all he was right now. Just a customer come in for coffee and a snack on a cold night. One who didn't like having his break interrupted. "Good customers shouldn't have to put up with unsightly interruptions."
Luppi’s eyes remained fixated on that good-hearted, concerned customer. If that’s all the white-haired idiot was, then Luppi was the Queen of Sheba. However, since there really was no reason to start anything bad right now, he pulled his mouth into a friendly smile - which stopped short of his eyes - and stepped away from the counter.
“My apologies, customer,” he chirped, giving Hitsugaya a small mocking bow. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your shopping experience at this dump. Why don’t you tell us what you need? With uncle Rossi’s assistance, you’ll find what your heart desires much faster and can get out of my hair.”
Rossi could kiss his sorry excuse of a shop goodbye. “Oh sorry. I meant get back to whatever it is you do when you’re not busy being a customer.”
As the punk talked - and even gave a small bow - Toushirou found himself more and more tempted to pull his gun and just shoot. This damn bird was irritating.
And dangerous. Toushirou had put himself in a situation. He should congratulate himself later.
"Take a hike," Toushirou said, nodding toward the door. "I got shopping to do." His gaze cut to Rossi, who looked like he was damn close to a heart attack.
Next time, he'd just pull the gun first.
Luppi's fingers twitched, itching to reach for the length of wire in his pocket to silence that self-righteous little fucker who was feeling oh-so-important. He wasn't here for a killing, though. He was here to collect money.
Since it seemed like his mission had failed thanks to the freak and the useless old geezer behind the counter, there was no reason to stay and subject himself to more verbal abuse and mental torture.
Trepadora gave Toushirou a smile that was all teeth and flicked invisible dust off of his jacket. "Yes, sir!" he purred and lifted his hand in a mock salute.
As he turned around, however, his icy gaze fell upon Rossi and the slender hand made a quick inconspicuous move for the old shop owner's eyes only. End of the rope. No more tomorrows.
"Have a good time and enjoy your shopping while you can, customer-prig."
Toushirou glanced down at the twitching fingers, stilling in that moment, tensed and waiting for the bastard to do something stupid. When the bastard turned away with his mocking salute and "sir", that tense feeling didn't ease in the slightest.
"See you around," he said, trying - and failing - to force a casual ease into his voice that just wouldn't come.
Shoot first next time, Toushirou. Don't even try talking.
Luppi floated out of the small shop, irritation distorting his too pretty features into a grimace, and walked away. Determinedly he marched down the street, gnashing his teeth, as he imagined ripping off that white-haired asshole’s head and shoving it up his arse to let him check out the weather in there.
Fuck him! Fuck that old geezer and fuck the Con- oh no! Not that. Never that. The girlish mobster would never allow himself to even think what he’d almost thought. ‘Bad Luppi,’ he chastised himself. ‘Mustn’t blame them ever. They took you in remember? You just have to work on yourself. Improve yourself. Yes, yes. And now let’s give old Rossi a nice welcome home present.’
Trepadora arrived at Rossi’s home and knocked politely. Mrs Rossi was kind enough to let him in - not that she had any other choice. When the young man left half an hour later, all of his irritation was gone. He was smiling happily and humming a lullaby under his breath. There was a tiny streak of red on his collar and if anyone had bothered to look closely, they would have noticed that the boy’s hands were not as lily white as they normally were, and that there were thin red lines under his nails.
But here people had learnt not to look at people like Trepadora at all if they could avoid it.
There was nothing Toushirou would have liked to do more than to follow the bastard out of the store and continue this confrontation. One wrong move and Toushirou could have him cuffed and dragged down to the station. One wrong move. Just one and Toushirou was sure, with the right words, he could provoke him into doing something that warranted arrest. If the twitching fingers from earlier were any indication, this bastard was a hot-tempered little freak.
Toushirou, though, stood his ground when he left, making a note to memorize the bastard's face, his voice, the way he talked... Everything. He waited until he was gone and then turned to Rossi, somewhere between anger and regret.
He hadn't meant to cause the man problems and Rossi looked like he was this close to a heart attack. Dropping dead of fright or something. "Leave town if you want a chance of seeing the morning," Toushirou told him. Rossi opened his mouth and Toushirou didn't want to hear. Probably be condemning him for messing with the status quo. Rossi'd be almost right to do it, right now. He slapped most of the cash in his wallet down on the counter - it wasn't much, he never carried much - and gave Rossi a hard look. "Keep the change."
He left the store a few minutes after the boy, gaze roving carefully over the darkened streets. The bastard was nowhere to be seen and Toushirou wasn't sure what he could do even if he'd seen the boy, other than confront and provoke. He sighed and crossed his arms, glancing back at the store and then out into the streets and alleys.
Damn it, but this city was a far cry from Erie.