(no subject)
Dammit.
Just what I need.
Just when everything's all going smooth. Well...I mean, I don't have leads on my client's missing defunct brother and his village-terrorizing ways. And sure, there's some rather interesting female company walking around lately, and some guy's trying to tell me he's a green housecat--which...isn't so bad, all in all. (Shy wise-ass kids I can deal with. So long as it doesn't turn out he's a she with a hormone disorder and a communicable skin disease or something.) I mean, it's not so bad as some of the crap I've dealt with. It was plenty peaceful, and the contacts were just sliding up. I'm starting to get situated, and I'm starting to get my appartment looking like a proper sleazy bachelor's pad...
...And what do you know--An Eraser pops in from out of the blue. And I really don't like the look of that son of a bitch. Downright creepy. Not just one eraser, but two. He's got a friend.
Normally here's where I calm down and go, "Yeah. Okay. Another exile and his adorable little boyfriend there to show off the matching lingering chest wounds." But no. That would be just too easy. After all, a bunch of queers who can't make it out in space, I can deal with. (though being queer seems pretty normal for erasers. You don't see many girls, and what they look like when they're human usually doesn't apply when they're all feathery. At least one contact of mine taught me that. Hermaphrodites, usually, your average Eraser. So I guess there isn't much option for anything other than homosexuality when you've only got one gender.)
This case feels different, and that's just plain weird. I mean, I've met one of the "girl" erasers, but they aren't supposed to have "just male" ones. It just doesn't happen.
And if I had education and all like some fucking E.G.O. stooge, I'd probably be able to say exactly why. But I can't.
And last I checked, the Eraser fleet was still out of service, so my whole net of info's blanked out on me, and I hate surprises like that. Some bitch probably opened up a planar window or something, and left it open to dry her laundry. Shitheads. And I'm probably related to them, the Aquarian Age being what it is.
Of course things can't go smooth.
I'm freelance. I'm not paid enough to get between an Eraser and a Darklore. In fact, I'm not paid at all for dealing with this kind of shit. If I weren't under contract with diminuative shifter buddy, I'd pack up and move, no return address necessary. I didn't get mindbroken. I didn't get involved in Polestar. Wiz-Dom blackmailed me with excessive cheer to even have the ties there that I do, and I don't give a damn about them when it all comes down to it, even if I want up the cassock of one of their members. I'm not about to go taking sides in the damn apocalypse here. Just having this sort of thing happen is like populating a town with ronin. Eventually someone's bound to get cut up.
Also, I fucking need to get laid, and being surrounded by all this supernatural ass pisses me off in general. I got really bitchy about it last night, and pretty much drank myself into a stupor after my useless little clerical apprentice decided that serving the whims of some high school girl was more important than checking in on the inverse werewolf population, and now I've got a hangover the size of a mother. It's not doing nice shit to me or my temperment. I want some ass, and I want some security, and it looks like I'm getting neither, and I don't even get Father wandering around as my oblivious side of eye candy.
Still, it's the street kids that made me need to swap address anyway, so no hundred-yen ass is probably the rule for a while. (Not that I ever pay kids who only as a hundred yen. They usually have really nasty drug habits, or a pimp steling all their fund.) Still, next one of those out and I'll be stuck talking like some Kansai-region pinhead for the rest of my life. I mean, I speak Kansai-dialect pretty well and all, but it's Hell on the ears, and I'd have to set up all my contacts from scratch. Of course, why should that bother me? Tomonori-kun would probably be fine without me. Not like he needs some fucking queen like me hanging around when he has that eraser kid of his now. The more I hear about it, the more pissed I get. It's like anything he does say that doesn't shove me out is either praising the gentle-sweet-sappiness of his darling master, or the comforting familial bonds between some damned winged kid and my hot cross buns.
Thanks a lot, father. Go show him the firmness of your belief why don't you? I'd bet he's a real looker. I've yet to meet an angel who isn't.
I'd feel much better if you were a fucking atheist...
But go ahead and forget who stopped you from giving my gun a blowjob. Go right ahead. And keep that spirit mirror of yours packed away in the attic, and never mind that I need it. You more than owe me that much... Tomonori-kun, you're the smartest dumb person in the city. You really are. And you're just reaffirming something I already knew: They say they'll call, but they never do.
That does it. I'm going to hit the underground this evening and find myself a boy after I have a shot of absinthe, and that will be the end of it. To Hell with my anti-pimp rule. A man's got to compromise because denying what you want will just get you screwed in the end. I'm fed up with all this, and I'm too old for this shit.
EDIT:
Tomonori-kun showed up.
And he had the spirit mirror under his arm.
Bless his little catholic exorcist's heart.
I still don't know whether in hindsight I should have shouted at him, or thanked him. Worst timing in the universe. Either that, or he's more psychic than he lets on, and he just loves to drive me crazy. But...he came. He actually came by.
God he's too cute. He and his micro-expressions. I can read books in how he sets that pointy little nose of his. Well...in theory.
I guess I really am going prowling tonight. Meeting up with the one (human) guy I haven't managed to seduce in all this time really does a number on me, and the thought that he took a train to get here doesn't help. He didn't stay for tea or anything of course. I almost wish he did. No alcohol tolerance, of course.
A guy can hope, I guess.
...And somewhere in that distant and happy little universe of pinprick optimism, I meet his eraser boy, and it turns out we have oh so much in common, and we go about with "taking of his body" and all that. Except with less wafers, but certainly plenty of wine.
...Fucking sake. This is why I stick to cigarettes.
Also, I've met Edaniel-kun in person now. Is there some sort of rule in the universe dictating that all the new people I meet be trippy weirdoes in the visual department?
Doesn't help when you're seeing three of them, either. Such a headache...
Just what I need.
Just when everything's all going smooth. Well...I mean, I don't have leads on my client's missing defunct brother and his village-terrorizing ways. And sure, there's some rather interesting female company walking around lately, and some guy's trying to tell me he's a green housecat--which...isn't so bad, all in all. (Shy wise-ass kids I can deal with. So long as it doesn't turn out he's a she with a hormone disorder and a communicable skin disease or something.) I mean, it's not so bad as some of the crap I've dealt with. It was plenty peaceful, and the contacts were just sliding up. I'm starting to get situated, and I'm starting to get my appartment looking like a proper sleazy bachelor's pad...
...And what do you know--An Eraser pops in from out of the blue. And I really don't like the look of that son of a bitch. Downright creepy. Not just one eraser, but two. He's got a friend.
Normally here's where I calm down and go, "Yeah. Okay. Another exile and his adorable little boyfriend there to show off the matching lingering chest wounds." But no. That would be just too easy. After all, a bunch of queers who can't make it out in space, I can deal with. (though being queer seems pretty normal for erasers. You don't see many girls, and what they look like when they're human usually doesn't apply when they're all feathery. At least one contact of mine taught me that. Hermaphrodites, usually, your average Eraser. So I guess there isn't much option for anything other than homosexuality when you've only got one gender.)
This case feels different, and that's just plain weird. I mean, I've met one of the "girl" erasers, but they aren't supposed to have "just male" ones. It just doesn't happen.
And if I had education and all like some fucking E.G.O. stooge, I'd probably be able to say exactly why. But I can't.
And last I checked, the Eraser fleet was still out of service, so my whole net of info's blanked out on me, and I hate surprises like that. Some bitch probably opened up a planar window or something, and left it open to dry her laundry. Shitheads. And I'm probably related to them, the Aquarian Age being what it is.
Of course things can't go smooth.
I'm freelance. I'm not paid enough to get between an Eraser and a Darklore. In fact, I'm not paid at all for dealing with this kind of shit. If I weren't under contract with diminuative shifter buddy, I'd pack up and move, no return address necessary. I didn't get mindbroken. I didn't get involved in Polestar. Wiz-Dom blackmailed me with excessive cheer to even have the ties there that I do, and I don't give a damn about them when it all comes down to it, even if I want up the cassock of one of their members. I'm not about to go taking sides in the damn apocalypse here. Just having this sort of thing happen is like populating a town with ronin. Eventually someone's bound to get cut up.
Also, I fucking need to get laid, and being surrounded by all this supernatural ass pisses me off in general. I got really bitchy about it last night, and pretty much drank myself into a stupor after my useless little clerical apprentice decided that serving the whims of some high school girl was more important than checking in on the inverse werewolf population, and now I've got a hangover the size of a mother. It's not doing nice shit to me or my temperment. I want some ass, and I want some security, and it looks like I'm getting neither, and I don't even get Father wandering around as my oblivious side of eye candy.
Still, it's the street kids that made me need to swap address anyway, so no hundred-yen ass is probably the rule for a while. (Not that I ever pay kids who only as a hundred yen. They usually have really nasty drug habits, or a pimp steling all their fund.) Still, next one of those out and I'll be stuck talking like some Kansai-region pinhead for the rest of my life. I mean, I speak Kansai-dialect pretty well and all, but it's Hell on the ears, and I'd have to set up all my contacts from scratch. Of course, why should that bother me? Tomonori-kun would probably be fine without me. Not like he needs some fucking queen like me hanging around when he has that eraser kid of his now. The more I hear about it, the more pissed I get. It's like anything he does say that doesn't shove me out is either praising the gentle-sweet-sappiness of his darling master, or the comforting familial bonds between some damned winged kid and my hot cross buns.
Thanks a lot, father. Go show him the firmness of your belief why don't you? I'd bet he's a real looker. I've yet to meet an angel who isn't.
I'd feel much better if you were a fucking atheist...
But go ahead and forget who stopped you from giving my gun a blowjob. Go right ahead. And keep that spirit mirror of yours packed away in the attic, and never mind that I need it. You more than owe me that much... Tomonori-kun, you're the smartest dumb person in the city. You really are. And you're just reaffirming something I already knew: They say they'll call, but they never do.
That does it. I'm going to hit the underground this evening and find myself a boy after I have a shot of absinthe, and that will be the end of it. To Hell with my anti-pimp rule. A man's got to compromise because denying what you want will just get you screwed in the end. I'm fed up with all this, and I'm too old for this shit.
EDIT:
Tomonori-kun showed up.
And he had the spirit mirror under his arm.
Bless his little catholic exorcist's heart.
I still don't know whether in hindsight I should have shouted at him, or thanked him. Worst timing in the universe. Either that, or he's more psychic than he lets on, and he just loves to drive me crazy. But...he came. He actually came by.
God he's too cute. He and his micro-expressions. I can read books in how he sets that pointy little nose of his. Well...in theory.
I guess I really am going prowling tonight. Meeting up with the one (human) guy I haven't managed to seduce in all this time really does a number on me, and the thought that he took a train to get here doesn't help. He didn't stay for tea or anything of course. I almost wish he did. No alcohol tolerance, of course.
A guy can hope, I guess.
...And somewhere in that distant and happy little universe of pinprick optimism, I meet his eraser boy, and it turns out we have oh so much in common, and we go about with "taking of his body" and all that. Except with less wafers, but certainly plenty of wine.
...Fucking sake. This is why I stick to cigarettes.
Also, I've met Edaniel-kun in person now. Is there some sort of rule in the universe dictating that all the new people I meet be trippy weirdoes in the visual department?
Doesn't help when you're seeing three of them, either. Such a headache...