[a little bit more, a little less bad. || backdated || closed]
Who: Zenya Okinaga.
What: Everyone's downstairs in the meeting, and Zenya's, uh. Being a messy little bugger upstairs. If you want your room to have been raided as well (butwhywouldyou) then certainly!
Where: The second floor, Kanda's room. Having travelled through Ada's and... quite a few of the other rooms, first.
When: Around 10:30-10:45am, Thursday, October 11. [massively backdated.]
Rating and Warnings: PG.
... It isn't exactly like stealing. And if it is, it's definitely not his fault that he's doing it.
Besides, Zenya thinks, as he pulls some fancy brown-and-black waistcoat out of the chest of drawers of... someone's... room. Besides, this stuff probably isn't even useful to anyone, anyway. They have such a weird style sense. Not just this person, but everyone in this house; he knows, because it's not the first room he's raided for clothes. It's just the first one that isn't full of bustles or dresses or things that won't fit him.
(Though, the dresses-and-bustles room wasn't entirely fruitless; he's fashioned a very handsome eyepatch from several knotted handkerchiefs, and although it's a little slack, it's more ingenious than he's usually forced to be.
It looks cute, too.)
It wasn't long after they ascended the stairs that Zenya decided it wouldn't be fruitful to follow Constantine, any more. He was really good while he lasted, maybe useful and friendly enough, considering Zenya had been thinking of shoving his flickknife through him when he first saw him - but he was also way more confident than Zenya was about the people gathered in the kitchen. Even if it seemed like a pretty friendly meeting when he was listening downstairs... well, it could still be a meeting of The Free People. If they found out he'd killed the Onnushi, and tried to kill Youji and scupper all their plans, they'd definitely kill him, too... right?
Hahah, and it isn't like Kitani is here to help what he says make sense, or protect him from anybody... And it isn't like he's in the position to just go in there and kill them all for what they've done, either, even if he really should, even if he really wants to...
He frowns a little, a fine line creasing his brows, and he stares through the clothes for a little while as he holds them up, not quite reading what he's presenting to himself.
What would Kitani be doing right now, he wonders. Would he say this is the right thing to do? Aaah, but it'd be even better if he had Youji here, because then, even if he messed up, he wouldn't really care about dying. He wouldn't care about anything. It'd be easier.
Something under his skin churns sickly, tightening his jaw. If those people downstairs... if they all ruined this for him. If they took this chance away. If he goes home and Youji isn't there any more, and Tetsuo has gone too, he...
He's at risk of tearing the shirt seams before he comes back to himself. The stitches stand out now, white and straining in the fabric, and he relaxes slowly. Hahah, is his heart really beating that fast? Wow, wow.
... Well. Even if they aren't The Free People, or the people that brought him here. He's caked in blood. At least it was dark in the cellar, but right here in the daylight, it definitely isn't okay. He can smell himself, too, sweat and the sickening stench of copper, and his shirt is as stiff as card from all of it. Aaah, he's really made a mess of himself, after all.
Eventually he smoothes a shirt out, laying it on the bed and studying it. Then he starts to strip out of his own obnoxiously green one, tattered and bloody, and deposits it on the floor without a second thought. The bad and unstylish clothes take over from there, cargos traded for slacks, and then kicking off his sandals to replace them with socks and loafers. The whole uniform looks and feels terrible, but it's warm. And if everyone's getting away with looking like this, they probably won't care about him, either.
(It looks like an elaborate film set, or something. Either way, seeing more and more of the old house, he definitely gets the feeling that the people downstairs aren't The Free People. That something more than just where he is has changed... but it can't be what he's thinking of, can it? That'd be way too crazy! That'd be...
Besides, even if they're not that cult, it's not like they're sure to be good people, either. He's seen a lot of weird weapons since he came upstairs.)
... But what to do now, if he can't go downstairs or anything? Going out would just be stupid! He stands there, looking at his ridiculous clothes in the mirror and thinking for a while, before it occurs to him.
He leaves everything as it is - including his scattered clothes, the open drawer - and peers down the corridor again, his hair falling over his shoulder in a tangle. Ah... well, there are empty rooms, right? And they didn't look disturbed, and nobody would probably think to look in a room that isn't being used... so he just has to find it again. Maybe, after he sleeps, things will make more sense, and maybe Kitani will have found him by then. And...
(He thinks back. On Youji, and Tetsuo, and his hand touches the bruises on his ribs, across his jaw. He's not done. He's definitely not done!
But.
... There's nothing else he can do, right now, either.)
He exhales, and sets off down the corridor on light feet, careful of the creaking boards, to return to the first floor. He remembers one there that was right next to the bathroom, and that'll be fine.
What: Everyone's downstairs in the meeting, and Zenya's, uh. Being a messy little bugger upstairs. If you want your room to have been raided as well (butwhywouldyou) then certainly!
Where: The second floor, Kanda's room. Having travelled through Ada's and... quite a few of the other rooms, first.
When: Around 10:30-10:45am, Thursday, October 11. [massively backdated.]
Rating and Warnings: PG.
... It isn't exactly like stealing. And if it is, it's definitely not his fault that he's doing it.
Besides, Zenya thinks, as he pulls some fancy brown-and-black waistcoat out of the chest of drawers of... someone's... room. Besides, this stuff probably isn't even useful to anyone, anyway. They have such a weird style sense. Not just this person, but everyone in this house; he knows, because it's not the first room he's raided for clothes. It's just the first one that isn't full of bustles or dresses or things that won't fit him.
(Though, the dresses-and-bustles room wasn't entirely fruitless; he's fashioned a very handsome eyepatch from several knotted handkerchiefs, and although it's a little slack, it's more ingenious than he's usually forced to be.
It looks cute, too.)
It wasn't long after they ascended the stairs that Zenya decided it wouldn't be fruitful to follow Constantine, any more. He was really good while he lasted, maybe useful and friendly enough, considering Zenya had been thinking of shoving his flickknife through him when he first saw him - but he was also way more confident than Zenya was about the people gathered in the kitchen. Even if it seemed like a pretty friendly meeting when he was listening downstairs... well, it could still be a meeting of The Free People. If they found out he'd killed the Onnushi, and tried to kill Youji and scupper all their plans, they'd definitely kill him, too... right?
Hahah, and it isn't like Kitani is here to help what he says make sense, or protect him from anybody... And it isn't like he's in the position to just go in there and kill them all for what they've done, either, even if he really should, even if he really wants to...
He frowns a little, a fine line creasing his brows, and he stares through the clothes for a little while as he holds them up, not quite reading what he's presenting to himself.
What would Kitani be doing right now, he wonders. Would he say this is the right thing to do? Aaah, but it'd be even better if he had Youji here, because then, even if he messed up, he wouldn't really care about dying. He wouldn't care about anything. It'd be easier.
Something under his skin churns sickly, tightening his jaw. If those people downstairs... if they all ruined this for him. If they took this chance away. If he goes home and Youji isn't there any more, and Tetsuo has gone too, he...
He's at risk of tearing the shirt seams before he comes back to himself. The stitches stand out now, white and straining in the fabric, and he relaxes slowly. Hahah, is his heart really beating that fast? Wow, wow.
... Well. Even if they aren't The Free People, or the people that brought him here. He's caked in blood. At least it was dark in the cellar, but right here in the daylight, it definitely isn't okay. He can smell himself, too, sweat and the sickening stench of copper, and his shirt is as stiff as card from all of it. Aaah, he's really made a mess of himself, after all.
Eventually he smoothes a shirt out, laying it on the bed and studying it. Then he starts to strip out of his own obnoxiously green one, tattered and bloody, and deposits it on the floor without a second thought. The bad and unstylish clothes take over from there, cargos traded for slacks, and then kicking off his sandals to replace them with socks and loafers. The whole uniform looks and feels terrible, but it's warm. And if everyone's getting away with looking like this, they probably won't care about him, either.
(It looks like an elaborate film set, or something. Either way, seeing more and more of the old house, he definitely gets the feeling that the people downstairs aren't The Free People. That something more than just where he is has changed... but it can't be what he's thinking of, can it? That'd be way too crazy! That'd be...
Besides, even if they're not that cult, it's not like they're sure to be good people, either. He's seen a lot of weird weapons since he came upstairs.)
... But what to do now, if he can't go downstairs or anything? Going out would just be stupid! He stands there, looking at his ridiculous clothes in the mirror and thinking for a while, before it occurs to him.
He leaves everything as it is - including his scattered clothes, the open drawer - and peers down the corridor again, his hair falling over his shoulder in a tangle. Ah... well, there are empty rooms, right? And they didn't look disturbed, and nobody would probably think to look in a room that isn't being used... so he just has to find it again. Maybe, after he sleeps, things will make more sense, and maybe Kitani will have found him by then. And...
(He thinks back. On Youji, and Tetsuo, and his hand touches the bruises on his ribs, across his jaw. He's not done. He's definitely not done!
But.
... There's nothing else he can do, right now, either.)
He exhales, and sets off down the corridor on light feet, careful of the creaking boards, to return to the first floor. He remembers one there that was right next to the bathroom, and that'll be fine.