You tell me all the things you know I want to hear [BACKDATED/COMPLETE]
Characters: Justice (extantlaw), Aurora (earth_uninstall) and later Praise (subject-e0057).
Date/Time: January 25th, 5.00 pm onwards
Location: Truth and Justice's residence, then the Hall of Beginnings.
Rating: PG13.
Summary: Justice has something to say to Aurora. Praise likes to watch. Warnings for violence, language and TLDR from the start.
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Justice closed the door with his left elbow, careful not to crush the bag of groceries and tugging off his right glove with his teeth before fumbling once more with the keys. Locking the door was considerably easier than unlocking it had been, his grip on them a little more sure now, even if the metal was so cold that it nearly burned his skin.
There was no sign of Diego, so he assumed the kitten... cat, almost, must have taken the opportunity to prowl outside until dinner time. As he stepped away from the door into the living room, he could feel the warmth of the place against his face, the automatically regulated temperature a welcome change from the freezing air outside. The faint scent of coffee still hung in the air - he guessed that Truth had already left for who-knew-where, no doubt in a hurry as usual, and had not taken the time to empty the grounds out of the coffee machine.
He tossed the keys into a bowl on the breakfast bar, the paper bag full of groceries next to it. A glance over at the hoodie that still hung on the outside of Truth's bedroom door with a note attached saying "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? - J" and another stuck below it that said "HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW? - T".
The item of clothing was most definitely not Justice's, although it appeared to have been sent back by Housekeeping instead of one of his plain white shirts - and since Truth had been the one to label up the laundry last time, clearly the fault was his. Granted, the missing shirt had not been one of the ones Shiro had custom-made for him but still...
Shrugging off his coat and jacket and hanging them on the hook near the kitchen he smiled at the note; smiled again at the other one that was attached to the coffee machine and read, in a hurried scrawl, "SORRY!"
"Really, Wright. If you had time to write a note, you had time to empty out the grounds," but there was no heat to the remark, not as there would have been had the man been present. Instead, he gave the machine a cursory clean, putting a fresh pot on to brew while he took a shower. The groceries could wait - there was nothing that needed refrigerating, and after a day at the clinic and being bundled in winter clothing, the need for a shower was more pressing than making sense of the storage cupboard in Truth's wake.
He didn't lock the bathroom door - he rarely did - pausing on the way to pick up a freshly-laundered set of clothes from the pile at the end of the sofa
Justice ran the water until it was hot - as hot as he could stand it - and the room had begun to fill with steam before he stepped into the shower. Washing had become almost a compulsion since he'd examined the scene of Aurora's murder; soaping and scrubbing his skin until it was pink, the smell of blood and sex and vomit never quite leaving him. In his dreams, it had meshed with his own memories - blood staining his hands, emotions that he refused to think about still fresh from the first crystal, and a dream of long fingers around his throat that slowly squeezed out his life.
Crow had returned, and that had been more of a relief than he would ever admit. Gundam too. But that still left Sniper, Drake, and Shiro. Missing, possibly dead, if Praise were to be believed - and he had no reason to doubt him. Sniper had shared a world with Aurora, and the others had been two of the five to see the scene of the death. His mind wandered to Cross, and there was that stab of concern and outrage that he had felt the day it happened. If Cross were next...The conviction that Aurora knew exactly who had killed him and who had quite possibly gone on to harm others frustrated him beyond words.
He bowed his head, eyes closed and palms against the cooler tiles, letting the water run down over his head and shoulders, washing away the anger that boiled in him, abruptly and fiercely. He stayed there longer than he might have on a warmer day, the heat and the steam warming him through, chasing away the remnants of the chill that had followed him in from outdoors.
Afterwards, he dried himself off meticulously, running a hand through damp hair before he bundled up the clothes he had been wearing and consigned them to the laundry bin. Praise had told him where Aurora was hiding, presumably in the hope that Sniper would be reborn, and the anger returned as he dressed, buttoning his jeans almost absently as he pushed the door open with a shoulder.
The scent of coffee greeted him, and he breathed it in as he pulled on a sweater. But he was determined now that he would not stay to drink it - it could wait, and still be warm when he returned. Aurora had lied when he said that he would speak to him, Justice was sure of it now. And the man's apparent distress over what he had likely caused himself offended Justice beyond measure.
A brief hesitation, as he considered writing a note, then he shook his head, reaching for his coat and picking up the keys from the bowl. He would be home before Truth returned, there was no point in wasting time or paper.
Date/Time: January 25th, 5.00 pm onwards
Location: Truth and Justice's residence, then the Hall of Beginnings.
Rating: PG13.
Summary: Justice has something to say to Aurora. Praise likes to watch. Warnings for violence, language and TLDR from the start.
------
Justice closed the door with his left elbow, careful not to crush the bag of groceries and tugging off his right glove with his teeth before fumbling once more with the keys. Locking the door was considerably easier than unlocking it had been, his grip on them a little more sure now, even if the metal was so cold that it nearly burned his skin.
There was no sign of Diego, so he assumed the kitten... cat, almost, must have taken the opportunity to prowl outside until dinner time. As he stepped away from the door into the living room, he could feel the warmth of the place against his face, the automatically regulated temperature a welcome change from the freezing air outside. The faint scent of coffee still hung in the air - he guessed that Truth had already left for who-knew-where, no doubt in a hurry as usual, and had not taken the time to empty the grounds out of the coffee machine.
He tossed the keys into a bowl on the breakfast bar, the paper bag full of groceries next to it. A glance over at the hoodie that still hung on the outside of Truth's bedroom door with a note attached saying "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS? - J" and another stuck below it that said "HOW THE HELL SHOULD I KNOW? - T".
The item of clothing was most definitely not Justice's, although it appeared to have been sent back by Housekeeping instead of one of his plain white shirts - and since Truth had been the one to label up the laundry last time, clearly the fault was his. Granted, the missing shirt had not been one of the ones Shiro had custom-made for him but still...
Shrugging off his coat and jacket and hanging them on the hook near the kitchen he smiled at the note; smiled again at the other one that was attached to the coffee machine and read, in a hurried scrawl, "SORRY!"
"Really, Wright. If you had time to write a note, you had time to empty out the grounds," but there was no heat to the remark, not as there would have been had the man been present. Instead, he gave the machine a cursory clean, putting a fresh pot on to brew while he took a shower. The groceries could wait - there was nothing that needed refrigerating, and after a day at the clinic and being bundled in winter clothing, the need for a shower was more pressing than making sense of the storage cupboard in Truth's wake.
He didn't lock the bathroom door - he rarely did - pausing on the way to pick up a freshly-laundered set of clothes from the pile at the end of the sofa
Justice ran the water until it was hot - as hot as he could stand it - and the room had begun to fill with steam before he stepped into the shower. Washing had become almost a compulsion since he'd examined the scene of Aurora's murder; soaping and scrubbing his skin until it was pink, the smell of blood and sex and vomit never quite leaving him. In his dreams, it had meshed with his own memories - blood staining his hands, emotions that he refused to think about still fresh from the first crystal, and a dream of long fingers around his throat that slowly squeezed out his life.
Crow had returned, and that had been more of a relief than he would ever admit. Gundam too. But that still left Sniper, Drake, and Shiro. Missing, possibly dead, if Praise were to be believed - and he had no reason to doubt him. Sniper had shared a world with Aurora, and the others had been two of the five to see the scene of the death. His mind wandered to Cross, and there was that stab of concern and outrage that he had felt the day it happened. If Cross were next...The conviction that Aurora knew exactly who had killed him and who had quite possibly gone on to harm others frustrated him beyond words.
He bowed his head, eyes closed and palms against the cooler tiles, letting the water run down over his head and shoulders, washing away the anger that boiled in him, abruptly and fiercely. He stayed there longer than he might have on a warmer day, the heat and the steam warming him through, chasing away the remnants of the chill that had followed him in from outdoors.
Afterwards, he dried himself off meticulously, running a hand through damp hair before he bundled up the clothes he had been wearing and consigned them to the laundry bin. Praise had told him where Aurora was hiding, presumably in the hope that Sniper would be reborn, and the anger returned as he dressed, buttoning his jeans almost absently as he pushed the door open with a shoulder.
The scent of coffee greeted him, and he breathed it in as he pulled on a sweater. But he was determined now that he would not stay to drink it - it could wait, and still be warm when he returned. Aurora had lied when he said that he would speak to him, Justice was sure of it now. And the man's apparent distress over what he had likely caused himself offended Justice beyond measure.
A brief hesitation, as he considered writing a note, then he shook his head, reaching for his coat and picking up the keys from the bowl. He would be home before Truth returned, there was no point in wasting time or paper.