(no subject)
who; Rabi conflagratus & Kanda sacredsyllable
what; A certain redhead is sick. ;<
where; The not-so-abandoned dojo.
when; Nighttime during the heatwave.
rating; PG?
open; No~♥
Kanda didn't like being told what to do. But he couldn't really argue when Rinali had practically kicked him into the bathroom two steps back into the dojo. Killing zombies was a messy business to begin with, and clearing out hundreds of them in the blistering weather where flesh rotted faster than usual was even less pleasant.
To his credit, he hadn't planned on the dojo being as ... full, as it currently was, either. Or sudden inexplicable heatwaves after the fact. Even with the lack of sun growing more apparent, the sweltering temperatures dropped none; and no matter how silent, Kanda was grateful for the cold bath Rinali had waiting for him after he'd cleared out everything even remotely undead within a mile radius of the dojo.
Kanda emerged from bathroom shortly after, one hand absently toweling off touseled strands of damp black, the other harboring a small brush. The living area, dark as it was in the oppressive heat, looked cleaner than it had in days thanks to Rinali. Though with the oncoming of night its floors were now covered in thick futon blankets and a ridiculous amount of pillows; probably unneeded compensation for her taking the only bedroom. Kanda caught sight of the vague lump sporting a shock of crimson hair sprawled out among them, and rolled his eyes a little. Sleeping and still "sick" most likely. Despite himself, he padded quietly barefoot on the matting, before a resounding crunch--
"Shit ..."
That was a stupid fan. Another step, a louder crunch--fuck that was another one. Kanda grumbled with a pointed scowl, letting the towel drop around his shoulders as he surveyed the lingering warzone of colorful paper fans. Figured.
Making his way into the room with a little less incident, Kanda dropped onto a seat with a puff of air from the blankets, shoulderblades falling relaxed against the painted shoji doors. At least clearing out the cemetary had been good exercise in the wake of no akuma.
what; A certain redhead is sick. ;<
where; The not-so-abandoned dojo.
when; Nighttime during the heatwave.
rating; PG?
open; No~♥
Kanda didn't like being told what to do. But he couldn't really argue when Rinali had practically kicked him into the bathroom two steps back into the dojo. Killing zombies was a messy business to begin with, and clearing out hundreds of them in the blistering weather where flesh rotted faster than usual was even less pleasant.
To his credit, he hadn't planned on the dojo being as ... full, as it currently was, either. Or sudden inexplicable heatwaves after the fact. Even with the lack of sun growing more apparent, the sweltering temperatures dropped none; and no matter how silent, Kanda was grateful for the cold bath Rinali had waiting for him after he'd cleared out everything even remotely undead within a mile radius of the dojo.
Kanda emerged from bathroom shortly after, one hand absently toweling off touseled strands of damp black, the other harboring a small brush. The living area, dark as it was in the oppressive heat, looked cleaner than it had in days thanks to Rinali. Though with the oncoming of night its floors were now covered in thick futon blankets and a ridiculous amount of pillows; probably unneeded compensation for her taking the only bedroom. Kanda caught sight of the vague lump sporting a shock of crimson hair sprawled out among them, and rolled his eyes a little. Sleeping and still "sick" most likely. Despite himself, he padded quietly barefoot on the matting, before a resounding crunch--
"Shit ..."
That was a stupid fan. Another step, a louder crunch--fuck that was another one. Kanda grumbled with a pointed scowl, letting the towel drop around his shoulders as he surveyed the lingering warzone of colorful paper fans. Figured.
Making his way into the room with a little less incident, Kanda dropped onto a seat with a puff of air from the blankets, shoulderblades falling relaxed against the painted shoji doors. At least clearing out the cemetary had been good exercise in the wake of no akuma.