Get yer towels ready

[inspirethefire]

Characters: Sanji, Mad Mod, Tanaka Hajime
Location: Kitchen
Time: A few days after the Spring Festival
Content: POSE AS A TEAM SHIT'S GETTIN' REAL
Format: Prose but then we might change our minds because really who cares
Warnings: Battles of the body, the mind and the heart.

Comments

[bisssss_cuiiiit]

"Tch, you'd think after the amount of time you've known me you'd get my name right."

The acrid reply was shot over Mod's shoulder, as he continued to scribble very neat and highly implausible recipes in the open notebook on the work-surface.

It was relatively unusual for Mod to visit the kitchen. Unlike Hajime he had no need to try to avoid it; as people tend to be rather good at avoiding places they do not need to attend even without trying. No, he had come supposedly for the same reason that the serious-faced student had, but for once it appeared that the one person who was a constant presence was not yet present.

"As for the floppy-haired conundrum, I'd like to know where he's got to myself..."

[inspirethefire]

Apparently, Hajime's body was so used to how this worked out that the very sound of Mod's voice reflexively tensed him up. It was hard to be sure exactly how pathetic that was, but that was not the thing to be concerned with here.

Refusing to be daunted by the spectre's presence, Hajime hovered just inside the door, by no means intending to let himself get comfortable without a means of escape present. With Mod's back turned, he couldn't much see what the man was up to, so the relatively harmless scrawling of recipes to rival Hajime's own uselessness in the kitchen appeared much more sinister from this angle.

"And what is it you want with him, then? I certainly don't think you'd need him to whip you up a sandwich." He hadn't seen Mod here since their first ever disaster of an interaction, those many months ago, and his return to the location heralded bad news.

"Have you grown to the point where you actually have to go looking to make trouble? I fear you're getting stale."

Shut up I am totally in bed. Like, sleeping. Right now. Honest.

[bisssss_cuiiiit]

Finishing off the detailed instructions of how to make a successful rocking-horse and ambrosia souffle, Mod closed the book as he turned to look at Hajime whilst leaning on the ledge in an uncanny semblance of solidity.

He chose to by-pass the sandwich remark. "Oh, fie laddy, I would have thought by now that you know I don't have to look for trouble- I am trouble. No sense in looking for myself now, is there?"

Grinning in his usual, infuriating way he busied himself with straightening the cuffs of his luridly patriotic jacket. "No, I just fancied a bit of a chin wag. Perhaps some light grilling- thought the place would be appropriate, for that."

New phenomena: Sleep-RPing

[inspirethefire]

That cocky smile, insufferably cocky though it may be, was at least something familiar in its self-righteous assurance. As Mod resumed that all-to familiar air, the young Ouendan crossed his arms behind his back in the familiar posture of his own.

In general, Hajime thought himself to be rather skilled in the English language for someone who was not a native speaker, but there were times when of course Mod had to make him question his skill in this, as well. Instead of bothering to ask (thereby admitting the words had gone right over his head), or puzzle through the meaning of it (as, likely as not, it was just more idle prattle), the boy simply gave a disinterested nod of the head. "I'm quite sure."

Having come to suspect that watching the man like the proverbial hawk only served as further challenge, Hajime glanced around the room in an only vaguely convincing show of carelessness. "I suppose you hardly should need to look for yourself, yes. There isn't really all that much to see, after all. You do have a reflection, right?"