[dream] φ 02 φ that phonebooth thing
Warnings: headcanon Sap and very minor Spoilers (?) about a certain Phonebooth incident
Dream Effects: nostalgia~ ('cause this is something like a flashback) + some form of happiness
Take note: The dream's written in second person, which is kinda both personal and impersonal, so the audience may gain some insight into his relationship with a certain someone.
Five minutes into the show and she has to step out due to a phone call. It irritates you because the both of you are on break, dammit, and you were just starting to get comfortable.
But when she comes back into the room less than a minute later, this piques your interest far more than whatever it is that's flashing on screen. (as if you were even paying attention to the tube in the first place)
"Some guy give you a sales pitch, hon?" You name your first guess.
She settles herself on the couch--into the crook of your arm--with a huff. "No. It was just BJ." Huh. Some major disgust there.
"What'd he want?" BJ... BJ... Ah, one of the wall reapers who hung out with 777. Nice guy, if not a little spacy.
"A date." --and you blink. Now there's a surprise.
Never one to cut corners, your partner. She barely hides how she feels about it too. "Actually, I'm not sure what he wanted. He started babbling some things and the connection was really bad. I couldn't understand him at all!" She makes a noise of frustration as she tears at her hair. "Pissed me off so bad that I hung up."
Now you whistle as you speculate, recalling some rumors you've been hearing. "Love confession?"
"Hell if I know," she retorts. "Bad connection, remember? And there were, like, other sounds that kept coming into the receiver too."
You put two-and-two together and chuckle to yourself.
"What?" she asks tersely.
"Why Uzuki, dear, I believe you've been Phonebooth'd."
The intensity of her glare is clear through your peripheral vision. You turn to her and grin, sketching out a vague, rectangular shape in the air.
"That phonebooth in Molco, girl. People've been calling it the Phonebooth of Love lately."
You wait for that to sink in, and are rewarded by yet another change in her expression.
"Ew," she says, making a face.
"Picky, huh," you comment, amused; then you lean back into the cushions, oh-so-casually turning your attentions back to the screen. "Sooo... you turned him down?"
"What--" She rounds on you with that look she reserves for idiots, temper flaring like a star gone nova. "Of course I did! Did you even need to ask that?!"
The answer to that question: of course not.
Still, her reaction pleases you more than she will ever know.
Instead of using words, you lightly ruffle the top of her pink head. She protests, of course, but her tone is less sharp; and when the show comes back on from commercial, she sinks into the curve where your arm meets your torso (a perfect fit, if anything). And thank God no more interruptions came after that.
[The scene crackles and blends into Kariya's bedroom--specifically his bed area. He's up now, and rubbing his eyes like the groggy not!morning-person that he is, his covers still around him and his pillows at his back. He has the Dreamberry in hand, having just realized it had been recording.
He's resigned himself to this already, and gives the rest of you watchers a slight grin, raising a finger to his lips in the universal "shhhh" sign.]
Between you and me, aight?
Dream Effects: nostalgia~ ('cause this is something like a flashback) + some form of happiness
Take note: The dream's written in second person, which is kinda both personal and impersonal, so the audience may gain some insight into his relationship with a certain someone.
Five minutes into the show and she has to step out due to a phone call. It irritates you because the both of you are on break, dammit, and you were just starting to get comfortable.
But when she comes back into the room less than a minute later, this piques your interest far more than whatever it is that's flashing on screen. (as if you were even paying attention to the tube in the first place)
"Some guy give you a sales pitch, hon?" You name your first guess.
She settles herself on the couch--into the crook of your arm--with a huff. "No. It was just BJ." Huh. Some major disgust there.
"What'd he want?" BJ... BJ... Ah, one of the wall reapers who hung out with 777. Nice guy, if not a little spacy.
"A date." --and you blink. Now there's a surprise.
Never one to cut corners, your partner. She barely hides how she feels about it too. "Actually, I'm not sure what he wanted. He started babbling some things and the connection was really bad. I couldn't understand him at all!" She makes a noise of frustration as she tears at her hair. "Pissed me off so bad that I hung up."
Now you whistle as you speculate, recalling some rumors you've been hearing. "Love confession?"
"Hell if I know," she retorts. "Bad connection, remember? And there were, like, other sounds that kept coming into the receiver too."
You put two-and-two together and chuckle to yourself.
"What?" she asks tersely.
"Why Uzuki, dear, I believe you've been Phonebooth'd."
The intensity of her glare is clear through your peripheral vision. You turn to her and grin, sketching out a vague, rectangular shape in the air.
"That phonebooth in Molco, girl. People've been calling it the Phonebooth of Love lately."
You wait for that to sink in, and are rewarded by yet another change in her expression.
"Ew," she says, making a face.
"Picky, huh," you comment, amused; then you lean back into the cushions, oh-so-casually turning your attentions back to the screen. "Sooo... you turned him down?"
"What--" She rounds on you with that look she reserves for idiots, temper flaring like a star gone nova. "Of course I did! Did you even need to ask that?!"
The answer to that question: of course not.
Still, her reaction pleases you more than she will ever know.
Instead of using words, you lightly ruffle the top of her pink head. She protests, of course, but her tone is less sharp; and when the show comes back on from commercial, she sinks into the curve where your arm meets your torso (a perfect fit, if anything). And thank God no more interruptions came after that.
[The scene crackles and blends into Kariya's bedroom--specifically his bed area. He's up now, and rubbing his eyes like the groggy not!morning-person that he is, his covers still around him and his pillows at his back. He has the Dreamberry in hand, having just realized it had been recording.
He's resigned himself to this already, and gives the rest of you watchers a slight grin, raising a finger to his lips in the universal "shhhh" sign.]
Between you and me, aight?