Play Fight pt.2/3

PT.2

The smoke was waving itself into oblivion as the tall blond hurried away from it. He had just finished a long shift of following Tom around and whoever decided to skip out on the debt that hung over their sorry little heads. All he wanted right now was a nice bottle of awamori; the only drink that’s been able to block out the details of a recent event.

He settled with the bar around the corner, slouched onto the seat closest to him and ordered the bottle. The room was dark, covered in a cloud of smoke that only grew bigger the longer he stared at it. He drew back five shots, one after another, each one fighting the flashbacks that leeched into his head every time he closed his eyes. It wasn’t until the sixth when everything around him became hazy.

There. That’s better.

Play Fight pt.1

A slinky arm propped itself onto a desk, the hand attached to it is sustaining the weight of a head with dark, disheveled hair. The free one had it’s hand on a mouse while a pair of maroon eyes overlooked a bright monitor. Siiiigh. Both of his wrists were still colored with shades of purple, green and yellow. A little more than two weeks had passed, but the damn reminders were still there. Not even his coat could cover them up.

Fun at the Warehouse

**this takes place a few days after this incident (last weeks post)**

I posted this fic on my tumblr page a couple of days ago and I figured I should make a blog dedicated to these sort of posts only~ Uh, but yeah...It's my first attempt at this sort of thing so yeah any sort of feedback would be much appreciated ^‿^


It sets place during the beginning of the slasher attacks. That’s pretty much the only time frame I can give you. It doesn’t necessarily fit in with the actual story line tho, but yeah I tried to be as in character as I could (*ahem* plz remember that Izaya is a troll) And in case you were wondering, yes, it’s aShizaya fic


ANYWAY uh here it is ⊙﹏⊙


~*~SKYSCRAPER INCIDENT~*~


Ikebukuro was going along with it's usual antics; Mikado, Anri, and Kida were fresh out of classes and heading home, Simon was out reluctantly trying to get people to try Russian Sushi, and Shinra was giving Celty information on a job designated to her by the good ol' information broker. The sun began to settle down, the streetlights began to light up, the streets seemed to grow louder. And then there stood Shizuo; lighter and cigarette in hand, ready to make useful time out of his break. The Yellow Scarves were basking in their reign of terror, one that had been established a couple of days ago, and the recent slasher attacks on civilians had added more turmoil to the atmosphere that surrounded Ikebukuro. And yet, there he stood --leaning against a random cold building, calmly sucking on the last of his nicotine stick, swiftly pushing his left hand inside his pants pocket like nothing bad was happening.