snakesuit: ([♣] would you look at the time)
[personal profile] snakesuit
It's slow.

Really, really, slow.

And boring.

Separately, these things wouldn't be of any consequence to Hazama, but combined... well. There was only so much he could do to keep himself distracted, which may or may not include terrorizing the newest batch of NOL officers, fresh from graduation day and green in more ways than one. You'd think they'd have learned by now not to hover around him like a pack of dogs waiting for a bone, but alas. Hard to teach a puppy new tricks, or some shit like that.

After sending away the last boring square off on some mission to find the hair of a gremlin ("no, it exists, trust me -- are you really going to disobey the orders of a superior officer, hm?"), Hazama reclined lazily in his seat and propped his feet up on his desk. Slow days were the worst. There was almost nothing to do to keep him from tearing his hair out and, seeing as how he liked his hair, that was saying something about the state of his boredom.

Hazama glanced briefly at the clock. He ran through a specific lieutenant's schedule in his head, and with a small curve of his lips leaned forward and hit the button on his intercom.

"Paging Miss Noel Vermillion... Miss Noel Vermillion, please report to Captain Hazama's office ASAP. That's as soon as possible, I repeat, as soon. As. Possible."
snakesuit: (Default)
[personal profile] snakesuit
It had started out as a game, a demonstration of just what he could do when he got serious, when he ditched the playfulness and really let loose; if it could even be called that, because even while he lashed out with Ouroboros, chains of pure energy crackling through the air as it snapped out toward the informant's legs, there was still that ever-present smile firmly in place upon his face.

The reason for his attack was still unclear; it wasn't that Mr. Orihara was withholding valuable information from him, because Hazama had long since taken it upon himself to enforce the phrase "what Hazama wants, Hazama gets" personally, if he had to (it was so much more fun jumping into the fray rather than let his shitty minions handle his personal affairs, after all). Nor was it the fact that Mr. Orihara was considered one of the most dangerous men in the city.

Truthfully? Hazama was doing this because he could.

So he'll be reclining in the informant's chair for this very same reason, desk split in two before him but still standing enough for him to kick his feet up onto it, the Nox Nyctores Ouroboros finally retracting into the ether with a hiss and a crackle as he inspected his nails carefully. The room was in shambles as well, but it probably wasn't as bad as it could have been, all things considering.

"Well, well, well, wasn't that just a blast? And here I thought you youngsters didn't know how to have a good time." He smiled, all teeth. "But apparently I was proven wrong! Well done!" Here, Izaya, have some applause.
dullahanrider: (i go through this)
[personal profile] dullahanrider
[It was late at night here in this bustling city that Celty resided in. Most people would be in bed at this time of night, but not her. While Celty was used to working this late at night, she couldn't help but notice there was an awful lot of job requests for her tonight. So much for speeding down the highway with Shooter tonight. She always felt more alive at night, but tonight, all she wanted was to be in her comfortable bed back at the apartment.

Her bike made it's screeching sound that sounded more like a horse neighing as she turned at the corner of a street. The bike sounded exhausted as well. Soon. Just one more delivery and both she and Shooter can rest for the night. This particular request was taking her a little longer than usual too. The client mentioned the cargo being rather delicate, so she was being careful on the road while to keep at a decent speed. She didn't check the contents, she never did, common courtesy and all. Still, can't stop a girl from being a little curious.

The contents themselves were currently inside a bag that she was wearing on her back like a backpack right now. They felt heavy and boxy against her back, so all she could deduct is that it could be a box, and there's probably just some sort of rare artifact kept inside it no doubt.

She loosens are grip on the gas as she approached the meeting point. Before the bridge, just past the convenience store...before a set of stairs that led to a park and then an apartment complex. She came to a full stop a moment later at these sets of stairs and looked around. She was looking for a man to greet her. Hopefully he'll show himself soon so she can finally call it a night.]
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