snowblindrpg | [log] When scowling, make sure even xxx-san would be proud [closed]

Skip to Main Content

Entry tags:

[log] When scowling, make sure even xxx-san would be proud [closed]

Characters: Hijikata, Gintoki and Stiles
Location P3 - convenience store | O3 - building 74
Date: DAY 005 evening | DAY 005 night
Summary: Hijikata runs into his favorite person | And proceeds to subject a poor third party to their bickering
Warnings: None

I | For Gintoki

[Hijikata's previous encounter with another human being had gone about as well as any paranoia induced surprise attack could have gone. The only satisfying parts of the encounter had been the opportunity to hit someone and receiving a few charity cigarettes. Enabling his nicotine addiction was one of the fastest ways to Hijikata's heart, and he managed to even feel a bit bad for jumping the guy.

But answers hadn't been forthcoming, and the man wasn't entirely sure he trusted this 'Tim' to truly be just another wanderer in no-mayo ice hell.

He hadn't slept at all that night.

Tired eyes glared down at boots crunching in the fresh snow. For a moment, it didn't seem as if they could possibly belong to him. His feet were cold, not whatever slab of flesh resided in the thinnest pair of standard-issue footwear making tracks in the wasteland surrounding him.

Today he'd go north.

Hijikata raised a hand to his mouth, fingers poised to set a cigarette between his lips. Except he only had a few. The man's entire body twitched to a stop, and he looked up at the sky with absolute disgust.
For trapping him here, he'd kick someone's ass. He'd kick someone's ass for giving him a weird injection too. But for making cigarettes an almost extinct commodity he'd slit someone's damn throat.

He settled on putting it between his lips unlit.

After trudging in what he thought was the wrong direction, Hijikata crossed new territory. The sun was low in the sky by the time he reached what appeared to be a building, and the man's hands fumbled with the lighter in his pocket. He squinted, unsure if the structure was even real.

Crunch. Crunch. The sound had died out at some point, inaudible from repetition, but returned as each step meant a realization of safe haven or desperation induced hallucination.

It wasn't until Hijikata crossed the threshold that he accepted the building as real. What met his eyes caused his cigarette to drop to the ground. Mechanically bending at the knees to pick it up, Hijikata put it right back in his mouth as if nothing so uncool had happened.

A store. A store full of food.

With trembling hands, Hijikata pulled items from the shelves, saliva pooling thick in his mouth. He explored the place thoroughly, shoving as many bags of edibles into his backpack as possible. And then into the pillowcase, for good measure.

And then he saw it. Mid-shoving a bag of chips into his things, there it was. An awful white perm. Hijikata's jaw twitched and his teeth snapped his cigarette at it's base.]

You-! [Finally, someone he could trust????????????]

II | For Gintoki+Stiles

[After an awkward, loud, and probably mutually embarrassing meeting, Gintoki and Hijikata took it to the streets, yo, and began arguing all the way back to the nearest house. Hijikata had never been to this particular pile of rubble, but if he was going to trust anyone's word, pathetically enough, it'd be odd jobs'.

What an awful place this was.

Their back and forth was impressive, to be sure, but unfortunately for Stiles, by the time they reached the door, they were both drained. Only tired eyes glaring at one another and scowls competing for the title of alpha-frown, one to make the most jaded of men proud, remained by the time Hijikata's fingers wrapped around the doorknob and opened the door.

He pushed himself in first, no matter what Gintoki had thought the plan was.]

You said you've stayed here before?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[When Hijikata ran into Gintoki, he had been embarking on an important mission - a search for some sort of milk product. Anything to go with a bowl of cornflakes that he had lovingly cupped in his two hands. His fingers trembled at the promise of a delicious, sugary snack - his eyes dark from fatigue and hunger.

His dull maroon eyes fell on the familiar samurai as his fingers dug into the plastic, single-serving bowl as if they had become talons. Did he expect this guy to wrench away his precious snack?

Absolutely.

The albino’s eyes narrowed, jaw setting.

So this guy was here too? It was the first person he’d managed to run into, which only made him question if anyone else he knew could have been mixed up in this mess. Maybe he’d finally take the chance to fiddle around with that tablet he had been provided with, since he apparently had a reason for doing so now.]

How annoying! Even following me into a place like this. Do you want to be friends that badly?

[Though there is more relief in his bickering than genuine aggression. His eyes catch the other man’s pillowcase full of snacks - and he realizes that was actually a rather decent idea. He pulls off his backpack and begins to riffle through it before he takes out the broken umbrella he had found in a previous house. The samurai opens it up with little fanfare and begins to size just how big the hole was. Could he plug it with a bag of chips? (Absolutely not, but his fatigued mind was having trouble processing that.)

Hm.

Maybe the hunger had gotten to him. He'd been so caught up looking for milk that he hadn't even begun to shove food into his mouth. Gintoki gives a slow blink before looking back up at Hijikata as if he wanted input.]

[Rare was it that there was a bigger tragedy than meeting odd jobs somewhere. However, now was one of those so uncommon moments, and Hijikata's eyes followed his broken cigarette's slow-motion descent to the ground with an almost tear-jerking level of despair. He could still light it, right? He could...maybe both ends...! Maybe it'd be okay.

His response was late. Not that the man noticed the awkward pause.] Anyone would go looking for food! It's not all yours, you know. [Yes, he missed Gintoki's meaning, but more important than listening to anything at all that the samurai had to say was gathering his cigarette from the ground and putting it into his pocket. He kept the little stub of a filter in his mouth, though.

For comfort, or something.

When he turned his attention back to odd jobs, Hijikata's eyebrows immediately raised. What the hell was he doing? And now he was looking over here like he wanted some sort of input??] It's broken. [Helpful.]

Edited 2015-06-26 04:47 (UTC)

[The other's look of true despair over his destroyed cancer stick goes ignored. Gintoki doesn't want to be charged with burying the damn thing. It was dead! There was no hope for it now. If you keep staring at it like that, he's going to be forced to ground it under his boot heel.

Despite Gintoki's actual attempt at being coordial but ignoring the other's sad display - it just kept continuing. He would never give this guy another inch in his life. He swings his broken umbrella to smack the stub of a cigarette out of his hand.]

You idiot! Stop crying over your nicotine and help me with this! [He shakes the umbrella at the other.] We could put food in it. Carry more food. You understand?! Focus!

[And in all of this, he'd dropped his bowl of cornflakes that he'd been holding on to for dear life. It rolled onto its side in a pathetic display.]

[No! It wasn't dead! Didn't you read the meta text last time? Pay more attention - it was okay. He'd just light the remainder and smoke what he could. Don't think he wouldn't either. Never underestimate an addict.

Hijikata had just taken the sad, stubby little piece of filter from his mouth when it was suddenly no longer in his hand. He was too startled, too affronted to scream. With an amazingly embarrassing display of crawling on the ground, the man retrieved the minuscule piece of heaven and stuck it back in his mouth.]

W-What the hell do you think you're doing!? Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get these!!? [He stood up, finally, and gave Gintoki a very very genuinely angry glare.] 'We', why is there a 'we' in this!?

[Read the meta-text? It was simply too embarrassing to slug through anymore! Addiction was a truly scary thing...]

Bringing you to the cold reality! It's time to go through the stages of grief, you understand? Bury it under your boot and help me get food!

[The other's question of why "we" were in this is ignored. Of course, we're in this together! We're from the same show, so it's obvious that we were brought together in order to brave the harsh winds around here - whatever that may be.

So he steps forward to grasp as his discarded cornflakes.]

We can split that food 60/40. I'm older so I need more substance.

[Fine. Don't read it. No point in writing it then, right?]

I've got plenty of food. [He gestured to his backpack and pillowcase, both stuffed full of snacks.]

Like hell you do! You've got more fat on you, so you can last longer without eating.

[See? Wasn't that awful without meta text? Lets do this again, smartass.]

[Hijikata rolled his tongue over the cigarette in his mouth. He'd gone through the stages of grief already, when he'd run out of smokes the first time. He refused to do that again. This time he'd ration. And pretend that this was a complete stick.

Gintoki's order made Hijikata's eyebrow twitch.] I've got plenty of food. [He gestured to his backpack and pillowcase, both stuffed full of snacks.

Being from the same show didn't mean he had to cooperate! That would just be out of character. Though, Hijikata didn't exactly want to part ways with odd jobs. For once, the man was preferable to anyone else he'd met or could meet here. Trust might have been a strong word, but Hijikata knew Gintoki wasn't behind any strange injections.]

Like hell you do! You've got more fat on you, so you can last longer without eating. [It'd be 50/50, and he'd be keeping a close eye on that!]

[Ugh, how annoying are you attempting to be?! This is like a nagging mother trying to teach her son just how important she is to him. This is a ploy that only works in daytime dramas!

Though the meta-text should stay, or this simply won't be interesting to read! Think of the readers!]

[The other's gesture to his filled bags is noticed, and Gintoki has already begun thinking of just what he could pawn off from the other's stash. Hijikata looked like a man who cared about what he put in his body.... So he'll gladly lay claim to the junkfood...

It wouldn't be that out of character! How about you review episode 231 first! When times get tough, it's absolutely not out of character. Don't try to weasel your way out of this!]

More fat? No, no that's my age showing. My vulnerability. Isn't it your job to protect civilians anyway?!

[It would be a disaster if anyone was reading this. Hopefully it's as big of a flop as it deserves to be. And Hijikata would rather be a mother than a useless son!

Of course the meta text would stay! If not, the characters would be too flat. Might as well put cardboard cut outs of them in the convenience store and call it a day. Or dress up some mannequins.

Anyway-

Hijikata absolutely did care about what he put in his body. But there was no mayonnaise here, so he'd have to settle for something else. And given that he hadn't eaten in five days, he'd go for anything. So, basically, fuck off don't touch his food.

That was a dire situation! They were all going to die if cooperation didn't happen - they meaning their friends, too! Hijikata had been just as scared for his own life as you had been, odd jobs, so don't go bringing that up. This wasn't like that, there was no damn ghost.

Gently ignoring all paranoia induced points to the contrary...

He's going to try and weasel his way out of it.] Your vulnerability? Where was that vulnerability when you were kicking valuable things out of my hand, huh?

[He almost smirked. Almost.] I'm not working right now.

[It's good for a man to come around and realize what is right...

Dressing up mannequins is only what a lazy animator would do! They would never be so callous as to insert that sort of gag into this setting.

But moving on-

It was still a valid exercise in how this was not a stretch of character. Pay attention! How did you become vice chief if you can't take those sort of obvious things into account?! What a waste of taxpayer dollars...]

That was an act of lashing out due to my vulnerabilities. You understand... Right, Mr. Police Officer?

[He's conveniently ignoring that 'not working right now.' Weren't you guys always the servant of the people when duty calls?! Well here it is!]

[What was that, exactly? Where up there did he say you were right? Hijikata would never say that, no matter the desperate situation! Especially if there was no mayonnaise involved.

How about instead of hallucinating awful memories and awful scary ghost figures, they hallucinate season one's low frame rate animation and five minute long shots of the Yorozuya storefront? That's scary too, right...?

He became the vice-chief by not having time for this bullshit! That's the first entry under job description! And since bullshit was the specialty of the odd jobs establishment, didn't have time to deal with any more metaquips about his salary!

Did you even PAY taxes? You have to make money to pay taxes, so you don't, right!?]

I'll give you a real vulnerability if you don't shut up and grab food! It's free. I'm surprised you're not stuffing your face.

[Their hike back was about as enjoyable as a carton of spoiled strawberry milk. There was the promise of familiarity that was cruelly masked by a sour smell that simply couldn’t be ignored. The crunching of boots in the snow, the idle arguments punctuated by the chattering of teeth, the puffs of steam that left their mouths that only served as a remind of how balls-freezingly cold it was outside…

It was terrible.

This was an awful place, and Gintoki was ready to go home now. He’d happily embrace the heatwaves of Edo without an electric fan if it meant getting the hell out of dodge from this place.

But as it were - he was stuck with the Mayo-freak and the two of them absolutely would be forced to rely on one another.

It would be the handcuff debacle all over again. Gintoki had already resigned to such a fate.

And with this resignation, his fighting spirit fizzled out to a mere irritated glance coupled with an agitated frown as he led the other man through frozen wasteland. It all looked the same, though he was relatively positive that they were headed in the right direction.

Luckily, he is rewarded with the facade of a familiar-looking building. Sure, there had been a lot of creepy math-scrawling all over the walls - but it was certainly better than the damp wet house he’d tried to sleep in the night before.

He was going to walk in first when Hijikata pushed himself through and rekindled some of Gintoki’s long frozen agitation.]

Oi! This is mine. I should’ve been the one in first, you hear me?! This is where I woke up first. Where are your manners? Go back outside and freeze to death.

[The wall had to be a code. It was too consistently messed up to not be -- or at least Stiles was telling himself as much. Sure, it wasn't the mess of Lydia's numbers-and-letters code that she wrote without being aware of it... but he has to take what clues he can find, and he'd be an idiot if he didn't at least try to figure out what the hell is going on with this wall.

So he's sitting there, cross-legged on the floor with his tablet in his lap, typing out responses to people, talking about the grocery store still and sending pictures of the wall to those who claim to have experience with breaking codes (and damn, he really hopes they're right, because his ability to put things together ends with a weird math code)... but the sound of the front door opening, along with a string of irritated words floating to his ears?

Yeah, that would be pretty hard to ignore. He scrambles up, the tablet almost falling to the floor in his haste -- but hey, at least this isn't the first time he's run into people here. (Of course, the man he ran into the first night here also happened to freeze to death, so you know, that's probably not a positive sign and also not something that he hopes will turn into a habit, so--)]

Uh, could you stop that talk about freezing to death? Because I'd rather no one freezes to death, actually. And about anyone being the first in, seeing as I was the one here before either of you...

[He walks forward as he speaks, his hands clasped together, lips pressed into a line, wow, okay, let's hope these guys are less weird than they look.]

Also, hi?

[Okay, Gintoki, but Hijikata would have bet money that the odd jobs man would have jumped at the chance to guzzle some spoiled strawberry milk at this point. Curdled though it might be, the officer had absolutely no illusions of a high opinion of the other man's taste.

Disgusting 'food' aside-

The walk back was nothing enjoyable, but Hijikata had to (never) admit that it was better to make a journey through the vast cold nothingness with someone than alone. Though he'd avoid the explosive diarrhea handcuff debacle at any cost. Don't ask, Stiles.

Anyway. Hearing Gintoki protest at being second in the door lit the ghost of a smirk on Hijikata's face. The 'warmth' (in comparison, at least) of the house and the other man's defeated whining gave some long needed rest to the man's nerves. He didn't respond to odd jobs' asinine command, instead taking several steps in before dropping his things on the floor.

And startling as a third, unknown voice, joins the argument. Hijikata turned with every intention of defending himself, hand reflexively going for his sword only to ball into a fist when met with empty air. Sure, Stiles was speaking entirely reasonably and the whole 'not freezing to death' thing was a great idea-

-but Hijikata didn't trust him. Who knew how long he'd been here. Did odd jobs take him to a trap!? He threw an accusatory pissed off glare Gintoki's way before focusing again on this kid. Everything about his body language was 'on guard'.] Who are you? [At least he asked first, before throwing a punch. One step above the last time he ran into a stranger.]

[Gintoki absolutely would not drink curdled strawberry milk. That was far too on par with being separated from your war-time honey by the tides of time - only to find them 50 years too late. The potential sweetness that could have been shared would only be squandered by a lifetime of inconsistent refrigeration and an ignored sell-by date. It was important to commit in a timely manner when it came to these things!

Though the walk back was not exactly perfect - there was something considerably less 'spooky' about it. Gintoki would choke on his own tongue before he admitted that though. He felt warmer too - but it must've been the eternal flame of frustration this idiot tax-robber lit in his soul.

The moment a new voice enters the fray of their argument, Gintoki is quick to turn on them. He was in the middle of something - and this guy just jumps in on Mayora's side?! Who even asked you huh?!]

Do you want to freeze to death soon? I woke here the first day. This place is mine. All the spooky resident-evil-esque wall scribblings? That's the defining landmark so I know this is my house-!

Are you a robber, huh?! Do you wanna die? [As if there was anything here for the young man to steal...

Given this was Gintoki's first experience with a new 'house guest,' he hasn't exactly gotten the chance to attack first and learn from his humiliating oversights later like Hijikata expertly has.]

[....................................... WOW OKAY ~~where is Scott when he needs him~~ where is his trusty baseball bat, he could really, really use it right about now. Not for actual attacking, just. A sense of security, which is really something he doesn't exactly have in spades with these two.

But talking, talking seems to be the only thing Stiles does have, and so he lifts up his hand, palm-up, in a manner that's hopefully very trustworthy and placating and not threatening in the least. And then to say something entirely reassuring...]

Uh, dude, if I was a robber, why in the hell would I pick a house that has weird scribbling on the walls and that's literally it? I mean, I can't exactly steal the walls.

[... right, that went. Better than expected. 1000% reassuring right here.]

Also, no, I don't want to die, thanks, and I'd rather no one dies, actually, that's the kind of important distinction I make, and I would so be out of here in a second except if I go out, I won't have time to find another house and then I'll be locked out and freeze to death and I'm pretty sure I already stated my opinion on the whole freezing-to-death part.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only