Duocaeli Inbox

[janescayre]

DUONET ID: harukaze

"Don't leave me any stupid messages, I don't want to hear your mouth-breathing over the phone."

✉️ ☎️ 📷

[ nightfell inbox ]

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dokja's bedroom.... chickadee suite

[salvageable]

[ It's starting to get late at night and Dokja's retired to his bedroom, leaving his window slightly ajar to let in some air. After not having been "home" for a couple of nights, there's a mustiness in his room that he needs to let out, the piles of probably old books lined up on the floor and scattered over a table and chair certainly not helping his situation.

Dokja even has to move some of them off of his bed in order to properly lie down, though he's not doing that just yet. Propped up against some pillows leaned against the headboard, he's scrolling through his phone like most people do just before they're about to fall asleep, checking out his feeds and other updates that may have gone up in the few minutes he hadn't been looking at his phone while he'd been getting ready for bed. With this being a new world, he's trying his hardest to adapt as quickly as possible and absorb any bits of information he stumbles upon.

He's also just addicted to screen time, but he's the adult here and no one's around to tell him off for it.

Anyway. What a normal day it had been today! It would be a real shame if something or someone were to disrupt that... ]

rubs my insect hands together

[janescayre]

[What a shame, yes, what a shame indeed.

While the communal housing situation is regrettable in many ways, it has certain benefits. For one, her job tonight just became so much easier. No commute! Just an easy breezy turn about the back yard, and a-one and a-two and a—

wuh-PASH!!!

A glass maelstrom whips through Kim Dokja's room as that slightly ajar window becomes a free flow of night air and human cannonball, the latter of which rolls back on its feet the second it strikes the floor. It snaps into form with one set of blades tilted haughty to the sky and the other set square at her mark.]

Whyyyyyyy hello there, Cheapskate! [Syo snaps the scissors like the jaws of a rabid dog, ready to rend flesh at the slightest slip.] Have you been expecting me?

[Most people had. That's what this treasure trove of fucked up memories said. The wheres-whys-whos-and-hows are all still big ol' question marks to Syo, but man, something about this gig just felt right. Nobody's gotta die or anything, it's all about motivation!

Which she'll give by threatening death.]

Because you should have. It's either me or the Grim Reaper, and I can get that sucker on speed dial at any minute!

I'M SO LATE FORGIVE ME

[salvageable]

[ HELP WHAT AN ENTRANCE

Dokja's arms immediately come up to shield his face as the glass goes flying while his thoughts race with the possibilities of what this could be. An attack? From who?? He doesn't remember making any enemies (in this place), but from what he knows of his transplanted memories, he apparently has a great big blank spot for a good chunk of his years.

So he's determining the worst in this scenario as he pushes himself up to... stand on his bed, because high ground or something, his arms dropping away to shift into a defensive stance.

... Hold on. ]

Fukawa?

[ There's clear disbelief in his tone, Dokja's eyes going wide at the sight in front of him. That's... her, isn't it? ]

What the hell are you doing?

I'll always wait for my sweet yuul

[janescayre]

[Oh, quick on his feet! This should be fun!

Or a pain in the ass. Her head cocks at the name, but the scissors do not waver. Great, not only are they living in the same building but he knows who she is. This wouldn't be a problem if she was gonna murder him (he is kinda cute), but she's now in a criminal career that requires some longevity. Man...]

BZZT! Wrong answer! Close, though! Very close. [She gives him a saucy wink.] So close you might say we're sharing a hot bod! Or maybe splitting a head?

[No use playing coy if they live in the same house. This is gonna have to be an intimidation game, through and through.]

But that's neither here nor there. And you know what else isn't here or there?

[SCHING!

The tip of one bedpost goes flying. A buttery smooth slice, professional even.]

Your money. You owe a lot of mula to people, don't ya?

you're too good to me

[salvageable]

[ This is way too much for him to be processing at a speed he can rationalize. Sharing a body? Some kind of split personality? Or a possession of some kind? All the tales he's read spring to mind, but they're promptly interrupted by one of his bedposts sailing by.

What kind of scissors are those??? ]

Money? I―

[ Ah. The fictional debt he'd come across and then promptly ignored is back to haunt him. Considering the nature of this new world, it makes sense to that there should be others connected to his story. He just hadn't expected anyone to play their role so... seriously. ]

That's not real! Aren't you too in character right now?

i took your words last night as a challenge; we can still deito later though

[lockedon]

How's Daisy?

[ No context will be provided for this message. (Spoilers: it's a misfire.) ]

good bc i want deito so bad

[janescayre]

[the fuck?]

Who?

You must have the wrong number. Don't message me again.

it's going to be disastrous

[lockedon]

You said that last time too.

[ Who are these messages supposed to be going to....truly a mystery. ]

I just want to know how the dog is doing.

as it should be

[janescayre]

I don't know any dogs and I don't know any Daisies.

Are you just messaging random girls hoping to find a cheap date? Get lost. I'm spoken for.

[lockedon]

You made sure I wouldn't want to date for a long time.

[ In another life, admittedly, but sometimes those pesky memories cling strongly enough to feel real. ]

action;

[duskspear]

[Now that the endless rain has ceased, Dodo appears to be in high spirits. The stairs straighten and floors shift as his spotty memory tells him they tend to do. In one instance of the latter he stumbles into the divination tower instead of the hallway that divides the suites, which is just as well when he spies a familiar face over the humble bed of flowers tied together at the stems in his arms.]

Ah, there you are.

[janescayre]

What?

[She looks up from her impromptu nest of books and papers. She had retreated here in hopes of actual privacy. A resource sorely lacking in Dodo house. Fukawa's nose wrinkles as she looks Roland up and down, lingering on the flowers.]

Did you get lost t-trying to find a date? Or did someone die?

[duskspear]

I was searching for you.

[Roland walks on over, gaze sweeping over the books and papers as he does. Unlike him, she isn't here by accident.]

It was not my intention to come this far, but it seems Dodo saw fit to aid me in this task. [With both hands, he extends the yellow-purple bouquet of goldenrods, irises, and corianders.] These are for you.

I'm sorry

[janescayre]

Huh?

[She looks to his face. Then the flowers. Then back to his face.

She goes white as a ghost.]

What? What?

[Excuse him?!

She skitters backwards from her nest, almost crab-like, thunking against the wall with no trace of grace. Her glasses slip down her nose and she flings up an arm in self defense.]

No! No they're not! D-don't you lie to me! Get those away! I w-won't stand for such humilation! You can't fool me!

[SOMEONE HELP]

sweet(?) summer(?) child(?)

[duskspear]

[His smile falters and brow furrows in concern when she goes pale. Is she feeling unwell? Lowering the bouquet, he takes a tentative step forward.

No one can help her now. (He would like to, though.)]

I assure you that this is no jest. . . . Do you dislike flowers?

[If so, his ignorance has a way of striking around her. Perhaps he should've consulted her first.]

[painhub]

[ Hey Toko enjoy this bouquet of blue irises... intended for Meryl. The shopkeep assured him that they'd get to the right person, but it seems like that isn't the case. Oops?

There's a note attached and everything: ]

The shopkeeper told me that these represent faith, trust, wisdom, hope, and valor. Lots of work for one little flower! I admire these things about you so I hope you don't mind these. :)

- Vash

text | @harukaze

[janescayre]

[Nani the fuck?????!!?!

There's a scream of terror from Nightingale Suite. Or rage. It's a toss up between the two.

where is this fucker]

WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

DON'T TALK TO ME EVER AGAIN

@ needle.noggin

[painhub]

[ For Vash, this message just comes completely out of the blue. He stares at it for a long moment, uncomprehending. ]

Is this about the book? I can bring it back now, I'm sorry! I didn't realize you would want it back so soon...

booms you before i start my chores

[janescayre]

[does he think the head empty excuse will fly here???????]

DON'T PLAY DUMB

YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID

I TOLD YOU I AM NOT INTERESTED!!!!!!

Also that book belongs to the library, bring it back there! Don't use it as an excuse to see me again.

BOOMIES YOU BACK >:(

[painhub]

I really don't know what I did! I don't know anything! [ It's not an excuse his head really is empty!! ]

[painhub]

Wait, did you run into Knives?

quest time, NOT THE BEES edition.

[verselet]

[Drillbees sound like aggressive insects, an assumption that’s verified when he sees two or three darting around, harassing passerbys just outside of Silly Beez Lab. V watches, nonplussed, as they try to fend off the angry, buzzing bees, and are rewarded with a few stings for their efforts.

Hm.

He holds up his net, which seems rather… lacking in the capture-killer-bees-without-dying department. He supposes it’s viable, but he’s heard of other ways that could be more effective, and more interesting. In this body, there’s no way he’d be deft enough to wave a bug net around, anyway; at least not without enough dexterity to catch a flitting bee.

So, he looks at his companion—not someone he’s met yet!—and offers an alternative.]

There are some flowers growing nearby. Why don’t we try to lure the bees in with those first, before…

[His other hand leans upon a cane. He raises it up and gestures at the individuals at a distance, yelling about bees.]

…we end up like them.

[janescayre]

[Meanwhile, hunched behind V with her own net clutched tight to her chest like a binkie blanket, Fukawa observes the pedestrians' dreadful misfortunate with a dead-eyed scowl.]

I c-can't believe any mission would be stupider than that b-bingo card. [It chafes. Oh how far she's fallen.] Is this what all video games are like?

[Either fighting a big scary dragon, or catching bees. She wants out of this. Imagine feeling wistful for the disaster-zone of Towa City.

She has no idea what to expect of the man she's been partnered with. He's got a rather handsome face, but the all black aesthetic and endless tattoos smack of a try-hard edgelord phase that refused to die. Why must men shoot themselves in the foot this way?

At the very least, he's thinking outside the box.]

It's b-better than nothing, I guess. [She grimaces.] Though I bet they've booby-trapped the flowers somehow. There's always a catch. Where are they?

[verselet]

Video games?

[What does this have to do with video games, he wonders? He can't hope to understand how catching bees correlates. He knows nothing.

In turn, V doesn't know what to think about his partner just yet, either. He might indulge in maybe too much black, and the dark markings across his skin do seem very edgelord-y, but he's passively amicable enough for now; she, on the other hand, seems a bit anxious about the task laid out before them.

...Then again, can he really blame her? He watches as a man darts away with a couple of bees giving chase. Hm.]

Just down the path there. [There's a small clearing a little ways down, couched with trees, where bright blue blossoms strain their faces towards the sun. He remembers passing by them, thinking on how Aesthetically Pleasing they were to the eye.] At least this part will be easy enough, right?

[Without waiting for an answer, though, he begins walking!]

[janescayre]

[Fukawa shoots him a withering look. Come on now.]

The "ON world"? This is all just a shitty v-virtual reality game. You are aware of that, aren't you?

[He looks way too modern to use the medieval expat excuse.

That said, she does appreciate his even keel, and while he may be staying positive he's not being cloying about it. She can't stand peppy dimwits, too stupid to spot the danger around them or addled by compulsive hero complexes. For some reason Fukawa can't stop tripping over genki little try-hards with sparkles in their eyes and muffins for brains.

She's just so tired. Send her to the grave.]

L-like that will make the hard part any better. Without some kind of armor we're j-just targets on a bullseye to those brainless pests. [Why can't they just blast a load of roach-spray at the bees and call it a day? Science sucks.

Fukawa scuttles along after V, eyes flicking unbidden over the cane. Then to his gait. It's hard to tell what might be wrong with him. A chronic illness, maybe? Old injuries still kicking around?]

So, we get flowers. Then what? Just c-come at them with a net the second they land?