[LOG] Urahara, [IN PROG.]

[pomppsycho]

Title: Kick The Sand
Characters: Urahara, open to Urahara's patients, anyone who wants to show up. He's cool with this.
Locale: Kisuke Urahara's office, institute
Timeframe: ?
What: Urahara has interesting ideas about what is appropriate and helpful.
Rating/Warning: PG-13 for Urahara

Comments

[kon_ditional]

Kon was starting to have the sinking feeling that he might be directionally challenged. But that wasn't right, 'cause he had PERFECT directional sense in the city. Then again, the teen was sure the architect of this place was a sadistic bastard somehow related to Daedalus. HE'D BET MONEY ON IT IF HE HAD ANY!

But once he got over the fact that the Institute was a maze from hell, Kon was pretty happy with his situation. Nice mahogany desks beat cardboard any day. The orange haired boy was strolling through the hallways, taking time to admire the furniture displayed here and there, and the art pieces stuck in little out of the way nooks. He had some direction in mind, but why rush? The garden wasn't going to move, although the sunshine might fade. But night was just as nice, night was for lo~vers after all!

Taking a right, Kon found himself in front of a door, hoping this was the path that led to the outside. Honestly these things should be clearly marked, and maps given out to the patients. Or at least a ball of string. Opening the door with a burst of cheerful bravo, Kon stopped short at the sight of a desk instead of trees, and a man in a silly hat instead of a breeze. Oh wait, that's Urahara under the circus tent hat, and the other person was...

Kon's eyes widened and he actually felt his breath jam in his throat. There sat a vision of perfect beauty! Her small hands, her hair braided with a simple grace, and the CURVES! Curves Aphrodite would die for, curves that on anyone else would seem overdone. He wanted to write poetry to that bosom! To the slope of her thigh! SHE WAS MUSE INCARNATE!

Kon stood frozen in the doorway, his hand still grasping the handle, trying to decide whether he should flee from all that womanly glory or bow before it.

[chimphaven]

Hiyori made short work of that decision, and obliged her fellow inmate into a bow. Of course, as with most things concerning Hiyori, it held a certain...ferocity unlike that of any normal person. A nature that was maintained in almost all her daily routines. So true, that even now as her sandaled foot dug into Kon's head (having jump kicked off a bookshelf) a smug grin of self satisfaction glowered upon her visage.

"...he was blocking the door," she muttered deadpan, stepping casually over his downtrodden person.

The office was shit, being that most things Hiyori perceived that were not under her express approval fell under the jurisdiction of shitdom. Urahara was quite possibly the Archduke of Shit, heralded upon a throne of shit, adorned in the finest shit robes, and regaling the shittiest shit to all in his dominion. It appeared now that a princess had entered his chambers to discuss all manner of fascinating things, none of which Hiyori felt the slightest compulsion to inquire about.

"I wanted to have talk...with you..." the girl nodded stolidly towards Kisuke, then in a sharp glance to the girl "...your guest doesn't have to leave either I guess. I really, really want some...therapy..."

There was an air of distance between her and these words, and her posture suggested nothing short of aggression. What was the mind of a young girl to a mansion full of the insane, after all?