MAILBOX; inbox

[shoubai]

WELCOME

House 1411

"Hello? Hello?? I'm sorry, there's nobody home right now. [ obnoxious peal of laughter: go ]

Ahh, that's right! Leave a message, and I'll get back to you. Right? That's how it goes? Aha, no telemarketers, please!

If you run up my bill, I'll have to ask you to pay the extra costs.

[ BEEP ]

Comments

kehahaha

[shoubai]

Somewhere around here. I think the dishware cupboard changes every week.

[ he waves a vague hand at the kitchen proper, perfectly at ease and unashamed at his own lack of knowing. when he does the dishes on his own, he puts them everywhere else but where they belong. whether it be from stupidity, spite, or plain old forgetfulness and absent-mindedness, there it is. what a household, 1411. ]

Are you a drinker? Of more than just caffeine?

[ what do you cope with, he wonders, as he pours himself a half cup of coffee, fills the other half with precious, glimmering bourbon. ]

[slushfund]

[only after a few sweeps of the kitchen and the opening of a dozen cupboards does he find a mug, and he trails back to sakamoto's station with it, pushing it forward.]

I'm a "whatever's on the menu" kind'a man. So fill me up, odds are I'll like what you're having.

[bourbon burns, coffee's bitter — he's sure to enjoy. it's his favourite combination.

now, there is no way he can hold his liquor as well as sakamoto can. and there is absolutely no way he'll deny that; soon enough, the red in his cheeks will make it apparent for him, so he doesn't bother. but he has sat through drinking with worick, at his house and out on the town. it has to count for something.

if it's available, if it's in front of me, he muses, watching his business partner pour. i'll take whatever.]

How often do you partake? You have a wide variety of booze.

[shoubai]

Often enough.

[ no need to act the host here, not with hiruma. partnerships worked on equality, on equal standings. this? this was coffee and a drink between two men who happened to subsist on the caffeinated beverage like it was lifeblood.

he holds out the bottle to hiruma, silent permission: need a top-up, friend? ]

Once a night. A glass of wine on occasion is good for the heart.

[ how much he has each night varies, though. from a shot to a full glass to an entire bottle of spirits. he's begun to lose track. ]

[slushfund]

Sometimes it's easy to forget that the body I'm in here, I'll be in when I get back home.

[he waves a hand at the glass after he's done filling half of his lonely mug with steaming coffee.

two drugs ready to mix, ready to wake him up, lift him up, and then push him right back over.

of course, hiruma doesn't bother elaborating on sakamoto's tall tale; he works closely enough with an alcoholic to know when someone finds solace in a few drinks. here, whatever. here, it doesn't matter. and isn't that a pretty mindset?]

If it's good for the heart, then, ah. By all means, right?

[shoubai]

For the good of the heart, cheers.

[ he knows it isn't particularly good, he knows this won't do him well down the road. this isn't good for his company, but here? under the landlord's watch and gracious hospitality? here where there was no kaientai? it didn't seem to matter as much.

what a pretty, sickening mindset. he puts it firmly out of his mind. ]

If it's a good body, what's the matter? You look like a guy who's taking care of himself.

[ tired, yes, weary in some quiet and subtle way, yes. but healthy? fit? young? strong? yes, yes, and yes. an athlete, a man with a dream. only the ambitious can be so driven for so long. ]

[slushfund]

Sure, in that regard. Bodies are simply tools that bring greedy minds what they want.

[a mindset he's had, on more than a few occasions — he can tell it's a deflection.

it helps him realize, with a bit of a pause over the lip of his cup, that not only can he help this man acclimate, he has the ability to keep him on course. things he's suffered here would be easy to relay to sakamoto, problems would be easy to pinch off now that he knows how it is and knows how everyone starts to slip.

green eyes raise studiously, cataloguing every detail of the tradesman; he doesn't have a dial for the intensity, it's getting bearings on others that makes him so good at what he does. sakamoto may be an exceptional liar, but they're toe to toe now.]

I wonder... what your mind wants now more than ever?

[shoubai]

[ out. a way out. home. space. his fleet. his dream. ]

A fine woman wouldn't go awry. Some song, a good deal of wine. Isn't that what most men want in life?

[ he laughs, knocks back another burning swallow of souped-up coffee and berates himself for a fool. old habit, bad habit. he'd shake it yet. ]

Besides the good things in life, a return to business wouldn't be too terrible. Is this along the lines of what you were expecting?

[slushfund]

Hou, here I was expecting a convoluted answer.

[in so few words, it's exactly what he'd anticipated.

naturally, really, for who wouldn't give someone like hiruma the runaround? he's practically a stranger, someone boasting illustrious goals and ambitions, a random twenty-year-old boy asking for — demanding — the impossible.

not after tonight, hiruma assures himself.

tonight he gets to know this man, katsura's friend; a confidant.

and his bar for this meeting is, as always, set incredibly high. he can barely reach the level he's set for himself (sakamoto, in the flesh, is proof the sky isn't the limit — why would he settle for anything less than his own marble capstone?). expecting others to is...]

Most men want freedom. The rest comes after, isn't that right?