Re: [Part 15] Durararatalia (Part 12/?)
anonymous
January 9 2011, 01:44:02 UTC
Right now
There’s a certain park in Ikebukuro. It’s somewhat noted in the area for being a place where high school girls gather.
That also made it a place for high school boys to gather--or at least to walk by, surreptitiously stealing glances at the beautiful, youthful faces and bodies in the area.
Though, right now, it could also be noted because it was one of the few areas that Heiwajima Shizuo and America hadn’t rampaged through.
Currently there was a male person impudently trespassing on these sacred grounds of femininity, earning glares from all other male persons walking by
The trespasser had longer hair then might usually be seen on a man, and was wearing a formal suit like a businessman or government worker. This effect was ruin by the fact that his shirt was partially unbuttoned, and he held a bouquet of roses, with a single rose clenched in his teeth.
Most of the people who would have recognized him as the République française were either halfway across the world or trying to keep a pair of insanely strong madman with a minimum of concern for other people’s property from destroying a city.
However, that circle had just expanded to include a considerably large number of Dollars members, including some of the girls surrounding him.
The somewhat one-sided conversation went something like this:
“Oh, I wouldn’t have though such young ladies as charming as you would be part of an online gang...oh? For moi? You must be mistaken...hmm? Oh...Angleterre...and Amerique? Oh. I see...I suppose I mustn’t cause trouble...well, would you lovely ladies care to accompany me to meet up with my companions? They are, I’m afraid, horrendously boring, and have no fashion sense at all, unlike you ladies...”
Right now
“Hey, dude, you’re bleeding. You okay?”
“Hah?” Shizuo looked down at his left hand, as his right shot up to keep America’s foot from hitting his head. “Oh. This.” His tone was indifferent, though his hand was bleeding quite profusely. “It’s fine. And anyway...” he drew back his fist. “...where do you come off worrying about your opponent in a fight, huh? Huh? If you’re--”
He punched America with all the force of a crazed bull elephant. If connected with a mighty thud, sending America sprawling. He got up again almost immediately, though.
“--if you’re fighting me, then you’re at least attempting to punch my head in, right? I mean, you wouldn’t be fighting me otherwise, right? So you can’t go worrying about--” He flung a trash can, which was dutifully dodged and crashed through the glass of a storefront opposite.
“--any flesh wounds!”
“Woah.” America frowned momentarily. “That’s intense, man. You sound kinda like Prussia. Well, if that’s the way you want to play it...!”
He charged toward Shizuo, lowering his head.
Shizuo grinned maniacally, drawing his fist back again.
And then--
“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE WILL YOU TWO GIVE IT A REST ALREADY?!”
Shizuo and America appeared momentarily stunned at the intrusion, America stopping headlong in his tracks and nearly tripping over his own feet.
There was a screech that might have been a horse’s whinny, and a black motorcycle skidded to a halt, closely followed by a van. England leaped off the bike, followed almost immediately by Celty, who rushed toward Shizuo, waving her cell phone, while England made a beeline for America.
Behind them, Mikado and Canada were jumping out of the van, with Mikado nodding thanks to Kadota.
“AMERICA! JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING! I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, YOUNG MAN!”
“Huh? England? What’re you doing here?”
“Oh, hey, Celty. What’s wrong?”
[Shizuo, we’ve been trying to find you all afternoon!!! You two need to stop fighting!!!! There’s been lots of damage to the city...and...and the police are after you, too!!!!!!!!!!]
Celty’s typing became increasing frantic with increasingly more exclamation points.
There’s a certain park in Ikebukuro. It’s somewhat noted in the area for being a place where high school girls gather.
That also made it a place for high school boys to gather--or at least to walk by, surreptitiously stealing glances at the beautiful, youthful faces and bodies in the area.
Though, right now, it could also be noted because it was one of the few areas that Heiwajima Shizuo and America hadn’t rampaged through.
Currently there was a male person impudently trespassing on these sacred grounds of femininity, earning glares from all other male persons walking by
The trespasser had longer hair then might usually be seen on a man, and was wearing a formal suit like a businessman or government worker. This effect was ruin by the fact that his shirt was partially unbuttoned, and he held a bouquet of roses, with a single rose clenched in his teeth.
Most of the people who would have recognized him as the République française were either halfway across the world or trying to keep a pair of insanely strong madman with a minimum of concern for other people’s property from destroying a city.
However, that circle had just expanded to include a considerably large number of Dollars members, including some of the girls surrounding him.
The somewhat one-sided conversation went something like this:
“Oh, I wouldn’t have though such young ladies as charming as you would be part of an online gang...oh? For moi? You must be mistaken...hmm? Oh...Angleterre...and Amerique? Oh. I see...I suppose I mustn’t cause trouble...well, would you lovely ladies care to accompany me to meet up with my companions? They are, I’m afraid, horrendously boring, and have no fashion sense at all, unlike you ladies...”
Right now
“Hey, dude, you’re bleeding. You okay?”
“Hah?” Shizuo looked down at his left hand, as his right shot up to keep America’s foot from hitting his head. “Oh. This.” His tone was indifferent, though his hand was bleeding quite profusely. “It’s fine. And anyway...” he drew back his fist. “...where do you come off worrying about your opponent in a fight, huh? Huh? If you’re--”
He punched America with all the force of a crazed bull elephant. If connected with a mighty thud, sending America sprawling. He got up again almost immediately, though.
“--if you’re fighting me, then you’re at least attempting to punch my head in, right? I mean, you wouldn’t be fighting me otherwise, right? So you can’t go worrying about--” He flung a trash can, which was dutifully dodged and crashed through the glass of a storefront opposite.
“--any flesh wounds!”
“Woah.” America frowned momentarily. “That’s intense, man. You sound kinda like Prussia. Well, if that’s the way you want to play it...!”
He charged toward Shizuo, lowering his head.
Shizuo grinned maniacally, drawing his fist back again.
And then--
“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE WILL YOU TWO GIVE IT A REST ALREADY?!”
Shizuo and America appeared momentarily stunned at the intrusion, America stopping headlong in his tracks and nearly tripping over his own feet.
There was a screech that might have been a horse’s whinny, and a black motorcycle skidded to a halt, closely followed by a van. England leaped off the bike, followed almost immediately by Celty, who rushed toward Shizuo, waving her cell phone, while England made a beeline for America.
Behind them, Mikado and Canada were jumping out of the van, with Mikado nodding thanks to Kadota.
“AMERICA! JUST WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING! I AM VERY DISAPPOINTED IN YOU, YOUNG MAN!”
“Huh? England? What’re you doing here?”
“Oh, hey, Celty. What’s wrong?”
[Shizuo, we’ve been trying to find you all afternoon!!! You two need to stop fighting!!!! There’s been lots of damage to the city...and...and the police are after you, too!!!!!!!!!!]
Celty’s typing became increasing frantic with increasingly more exclamation points.
Shizuo appeared to take a moment to digest this.
--
Word. Limits. Grrr. :(
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