tsunderebunny: (...)
Barnaby Brooks Jr. ([personal profile] tsunderebunny) wrote2013-05-10 08:16 pm

Episode 1: The Day After is Always the Hardest to Handle [accidental audio/action]

[That was some adrenaline rush.

Barnaby groaned when the distant rumble of thunder and the cold patter of raindrops on his bare skin pulled him back to consciousness. The muscles in his arms, shoulders, and back ached like he knew they would. The battle atop the Justice Tower had been long and vicious-- sleep was bliss after that beating, that rage-- He fisted a hand in the sand, and his thoughts ground to a halt.

Why was there sand?

Thunder rumbled once more, closer than it had been moments before. Barnaby abruptly sat up, his already electrified instincts snapping him into action in less than a heartbeat. He knew that there was no more reason for him to fight, but there were some habits that would never change. Not so quickly.

His momentary spark of irritation quickly gave way to confusion. Barnaby ran a hand through his sodden curls with sand covered fingers as his mind tried to register the sudden change in his surroundings. This wasn't his bed, his flat, or even anywhere in Sternbild.

Why was he at a beach?

The rain started to fall harder, prompting Barnaby stiffly pull himself up from the sand. He hadn't noticed the book that was lying on it's open pages nearby, just barely within reach of the receeding tide.]


...Honestly. [His voice was weary, exasperated.] They couldn't have bothered to put up a shelter?

[Later that day, after he's settled (after a fashion), Barnaby can be found in the shops around the plaza, gathering his few belongings and proper furnishings for his new flat, or holed up in a quiet corner of the library to peruse both his journal and any informational book that he could find. He just couldn't trust any of the evidence he had, not when it was so blatantly absurd.

It'd be wise to avoid mentioning any large, stuffed pink bunnies that he might be seen with that day. He couldn't just leave it in the shops for anyone to take!]
deadlyjuliet: (Aren't you pretty?)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-13 02:22 pm (UTC)(link)
Anyone with one of these little books could hear it. [She says, taking her journal out of her inner jacket pocket and waving it slightly. She sets it back where it was before and leans over a little, resting her elbow on her crossed leg and her chin in her hand.]

And which Management would you be talking to, dearest?
deadlyjuliet: (And you're saying...?)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-13 02:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Sorry, love - 1889. Whatever a 'cellphone' is, it's far after my time. [Not even Death Gods were that far ahead.]

And I do wish you luck talking to them - they're usually reluctant to speak with us unless they're asking us to fight their wars, causing a Shift, or apparently bringing people back from the dead.
deadlyjuliet: (Deadly stare)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-15 02:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[Not as modern as some people, but still modern to her.] Different worlds, different technology. [She shrugs.]

And different rules.

Unfortunate rules, even. It's a strange thing being here. Do be careful, dear.
deadlyjuliet: (And you're saying...?)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-16 06:44 am (UTC)(link)
That would be advisable.

As would letting those wings out. Leaving them trundled up like that shall only make you more uncomfortable.
deadlyjuliet: (You are such a boring bitch)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-20 05:57 am (UTC)(link)
Everyone says that as if they expect their clothing to be made of gold.

A tailor is a tailor. It's their job to tailor properly, or they would lose said job.

[Grell shrugged and pushed off the edge of the roof, landing next to Barnaby.]

There are two tailors in town - so long as one of them hasn't been Shifted out of here. I'd suggest looking into them.
deadlyjuliet: (Eyes on you)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-21 02:46 am (UTC)(link)
The Malnosso like to call them that. I just call them "annoying."

[Grell shrugged and then paused, looking at Barnaby a little closer.]

...

Do I know you from somewhere? You seem terribly familiar.
deadlyjuliet: (Deadly stare)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-21 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
Well, aren't you a handsome flirt.

[Grell smiles and steps closer, leaning the umbrella back a bit.]

I could have sworn you were familiar though - and I do try ever so hard not to forget pretty faces.
deadlyjuliet: (Oh how interesting)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-21 05:41 am (UTC)(link)
Lovely practice, that. Good in case you need to know everyone and anyone.

Name?

[Grell knows why she might know someone without them knowing her. She reaches into her jacket, pulling out a black leather folder to peruse the stacks of paper inside. Unlike the journals, this folder has no name on it and is rather nondescript.]
deadlyjuliet: pixiv: 1133455 icon: <user name=nihongoing> do not take (Watching)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-23 03:23 am (UTC)(link)
Not looking.

[She stops on a page and looks up at him, then back down the page. Definitely him. Same name, same looks.

But that date is all wrong.
]

Finding.

You're quite the fashionably late sort, aren't you? He's waited a year to see you again and here you are - just a moment too late.
deadlyjuliet: (And you're saying...?)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-23 03:37 am (UTC)(link)
What? Don't you remember?

I suppose it has been quite awhile. Normally it only takes one week, but here you are, a year later. They all gave up on seeing you again, you know.
deadlyjuliet: (You are such a boring bitch)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-23 03:46 am (UTC)(link)
I'm not sure how much more clear I can be-- [She checks the folder and snaps it closed.] --Bunny.

If you're still unclear, that's less my fault and more the fault of you being dead for a year.
deadlyjuliet: (Smarmy)

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[personal profile] deadlyjuliet 2013-05-23 05:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Ah, there it was. The little sparks that made certain people so much more interesting than the common sheep.

Grell smirked at his question and slipped the folder back into her jacket.
]

Privilege.

Strange, that you're more concerned for that than you are about your rumoured demise.

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