Special Guest Villains (
specialguestvillains) wrote in
loligiary2020-02-24 12:24 pm
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Sashiko: The Darkest Timeline
Jigen's right arm ached, and that meant the weather was about to go sour.
Granted, it always ached, but it was aching in a very specific way right now, and also it was January in Paris so the weather was going to get fucked eventually. Everyone gave charitably around Christmas, but as soon as it flipped around to January 2 all that goodwill towards men dried up and the weather was even colder than before.
Jigen took up his usual position near the cafe and watched the patrons stroll by, eying them up to see who looked like a big spender. Men with dates sometimes liked to impress their girls, as did bachelorette parties. People on the way back from soccer matches were charitable, but only if their team won, and if they hadn't they had the risk of being mean drunks. Sometimes they'd be mean drunks anyway.
Okay, guy in a blue blazer, looked like a tourist from the back.
"Hey, buddy. Spare some change?" he mumbled, the phrase coming more naturally than most of his French. He said it enough these days for it to be nearly rote. The man turned and Jigen found himself unable to look the man in the face. Something about his pose said horror, maybe even disgust. He didn't have the energy to deal with that bullshit today.
"Don't worry about it," he said before the tourist could even speak, and turned around to trod off again. The battered hat he'd been using as a money bucket went back on his head. Behind him, he heard the man slowly back away. By the time Jigen looked at him again, the man in blue had run off into the crowd.
Granted, it always ached, but it was aching in a very specific way right now, and also it was January in Paris so the weather was going to get fucked eventually. Everyone gave charitably around Christmas, but as soon as it flipped around to January 2 all that goodwill towards men dried up and the weather was even colder than before.
Jigen took up his usual position near the cafe and watched the patrons stroll by, eying them up to see who looked like a big spender. Men with dates sometimes liked to impress their girls, as did bachelorette parties. People on the way back from soccer matches were charitable, but only if their team won, and if they hadn't they had the risk of being mean drunks. Sometimes they'd be mean drunks anyway.
Okay, guy in a blue blazer, looked like a tourist from the back.
"Hey, buddy. Spare some change?" he mumbled, the phrase coming more naturally than most of his French. He said it enough these days for it to be nearly rote. The man turned and Jigen found himself unable to look the man in the face. Something about his pose said horror, maybe even disgust. He didn't have the energy to deal with that bullshit today.
"Don't worry about it," he said before the tourist could even speak, and turned around to trod off again. The battered hat he'd been using as a money bucket went back on his head. Behind him, he heard the man slowly back away. By the time Jigen looked at him again, the man in blue had run off into the crowd.
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"I don't know what to tell you about the dreams, though," he says, rubbing his forehead. "I just-- I got 'em too. Weird, isn't it?"
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Zenigata shrugs. It's weird and he doesn't like it, but it is what it is. His brain's damaged, so why not have this sort of weird recurring stress dream?
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"Got a smile like you want to either punch him or kiss him or both, and his pants are too damn short for his legs?" he asks, like a challenge.
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But why?
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"How the...how the fuck do two people who haven't ever met dream about the same fucking guy?" he muttered, pressing his hand to his head. "I don't even know who this guy is."
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Still buying a lockbox.