shortestfuse (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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discedo2012-09-18 04:43 pm
shortestfuse) wrote in discedo2012-09-18 04:43 pm
Entry tags:
05 [ACCIDENTAL VIDEO/ACTION]
[ VIDEO ]
[ The camera flickers on when Shizuo seems to be rolling out of bed.
Half-asleep, he drags his face off of his pillow and grunts as he moves to sit up groggily, reaching up to scratch at his chest and yawn.
It takes him a few moments to realize that he's wading in the sweatpants he had worn to bed, secured dangerously loose around pale hips on do not belong to him. Blinking hard, eyes sensitive to the light, he rubs at them in disbelief and then stares at his hands.
And stares. ] What... [ Annnd stares. ] The... fuck...? [ Startled to high hell, he's picking up the recording communicator and staring into the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reflection. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the thing.
The image shakes and it's obvious he's running, slamming the bathroom door open. And then he drops it when he sees Izaya staring back at him, chest rising and falling as he tries to remember how to breathe properly. ]
WHAT THE FUCK?!
[ ACTION ]
[ About thirty minutes later Shizuo regains some semblance of calm.
Meaning, he hasn't calmed down at all and is currently stomping down the stairwell, tugging firmly on the drawstrings of his sweatpants, ready to give that flea a piece of his mind. Because when something went wrong, when situations got to the point where they were out of control, Izaya was the culprit.
Standing in front of Latimir 404, directly a floor down from his apartment, Shizuo pitches his leg back and goes to kick the door down. His toe meet the base of the door - really all he'd need to do normally was tap it and it'd buckle in - and stops.
Immediately, he drops to take a knee, holding his foot in his hand with a pained sound he hasn't heard himself make in months.
Knock knock, Izaya, your body has returned home.
*Note: The account "flearidden" will be used. ]
[ The camera flickers on when Shizuo seems to be rolling out of bed.
Half-asleep, he drags his face off of his pillow and grunts as he moves to sit up groggily, reaching up to scratch at his chest and yawn.
It takes him a few moments to realize that he's wading in the sweatpants he had worn to bed, secured dangerously loose around pale hips on do not belong to him. Blinking hard, eyes sensitive to the light, he rubs at them in disbelief and then stares at his hands.
And stares. ] What... [ Annnd stares. ] The... fuck...? [ Startled to high hell, he's picking up the recording communicator and staring into the screen, hoping to catch a glimpse of his reflection. His eyes widen and he nearly drops the thing.
The image shakes and it's obvious he's running, slamming the bathroom door open. And then he drops it when he sees Izaya staring back at him, chest rising and falling as he tries to remember how to breathe properly. ]
WHAT THE FUCK?!
[ ACTION ]
[ About thirty minutes later Shizuo regains some semblance of calm.
Meaning, he hasn't calmed down at all and is currently stomping down the stairwell, tugging firmly on the drawstrings of his sweatpants, ready to give that flea a piece of his mind. Because when something went wrong, when situations got to the point where they were out of control, Izaya was the culprit.
Standing in front of Latimir 404, directly a floor down from his apartment, Shizuo pitches his leg back and goes to kick the door down. His toe meet the base of the door - really all he'd need to do normally was tap it and it'd buckle in - and stops.
Immediately, he drops to take a knee, holding his foot in his hand with a pained sound he hasn't heard himself make in months.
Knock knock, Izaya, your body has returned home.
*Note: The account "flearidden" will be used. ]
no subject
[ Gripping his wrist, Shizuo protects it, holding it near his stomach.
He was so weak. So frail. His skin, his bones, his entire body. ]
Tch...! I would if I knew how, you bastard! Like I'd ever wanna be... this...
WEAK.
no subject
Just because you don't know how to use it, doesn't make my body weak, you imbecilic caveman.
no subject
Slamming a foot down on the other's chest knowing it wouldn't hurt him in the slightest, Shizuo leans down to growl in his face. ] I can do everything you can except juggle knives, you fuck.
no subject
[Even as annoyance washed through Izaya's body he could not help but laugh.
The blonds arm thrust up, hand wrapping around his own bodies neck, to suddenly throw Shizuo into the wall. The attack was meant more to shock the raven, to remind him of the pain that he would now be feeling as the wall splintered slightly from the impact rather than to actually hurt him. After all, the blond didnt want to hurt his own body .]
Which is why you have and always will lose, Shizu-chan.
no subject
Having fallen to the floor quite abruptly after greeting the plaster, Izaya's body stirs, powder from the dry wall scattered on pale skin, back red, bruised and scratched up from being thrown. Fingers tighten into fists as he coughs hoarsely, trying to pull himself up, pants low on bare hips.
He manages to sway up into a stand, but with one hand on the wall to brace himself. ] You don't understand. You don't fucking understand at all, do you?! You'll kill yourself with my body!
no subject
[Izaya closed the distance between them again, hand once more grabbing the other male to lift him from the ground]
And I know what my body can withstand. What I can withstand. But you've never felt pain before, right Shizu-chan?
1/2
He stands on the very tips of his toes, thankful for once that Izaya's body was light, for the hand around his neck would choke him, or crush his windpipe if he'd been lifted entirely into the air. ] Iza- grk... [ Speaking was difficult, but he would do it. He would manage regardless. ]
Of... c-course I... have, you bastard! [ That's right... when he was young, when his body was still developing and coping... he felt it. For years he felt it. Like Izaya, he knew his own weaknesses. ]
2/3 i lied
But his actions are dissimilar.
Very slowly, very gently, his hands leave Izaya's and slip up his arms, up the length of his neck, soft palms caressing the face there. It is as though he can see past it, staring red on brown, like it didn't matter whose body they were in. This connection still existed, didn't it? This was real. That's all that mattered.
Tracing Izaya's new features - his own features - with small thumbs, they slip beneath the other's eyes. He never would have been able to gingerly touch someone like this before. He almost forgets his purpose. ]
I feel pain, Izaya... I feel everything...
3/3
ESPECIALLY THIS YOU MOTHERFUCKER!
FUCK I CAN'T-
before he suddenly half yells half screeches what was clearly some kind of inappropriate word and grabs Shizuo's wrists so hard that as one was yanked away from his eyes the noticeable sound of bone breaking echoed down the hall]
im fuckgnkn dyingfewfmnw
Strange that he'd receive sensations in that order, but he hadn't felt anything like this... not since he was a little boy... hands wrenched his wrists, one bent awkwardly, the other straining, spraining, making tears spring up into his red eyes.
Letting his body go limp, his arms shake trying to release himself from the hold, yelling out in pain until the force of the bellow made his voice crack and run hoarse. ]
done im done just kill me
Which, seeing as how his eyes were currently burning like hell, anymore limbs on fire would have been bad.
The informant stumbles back, hands moving up to put pressure upon his throbbing eyes as the darkness of closed lids offers little comfort to the unknown pain.]
Shizu-chan...
[The word was a broken curse and a pitiful whine as Izaya tries to figure out what to do.]
Ice...!
-MURDER SUICIDE-
Cradling his wrists gently in his lap, eyes wet, heart pounding in his ears, he barely hears Izaya. It's the last word he catches, but he doesn't so much as flinch at it. ]
Y-... haa... [ He swallows thickly, trying to flex his fingers to no avail. ] Fuck, my wrists... agh... broke, it's- you fuckin'...
[ So this was what pain truly felt like. In its rawest form, this... it hurt... it hurt, it hurt, it hurt. ]
perfect idiots
The informant preferred to bear his pain quietly, never liking having others see him in a weakened state.
But the fact of the matter was that he couldn't see. Could barely think. And now only had Shizuo who was probably useless due to his wrist.
Growing more and more frustrated Izaya snaps.]
ICE, SHIZUO!
[For the both of them before the swelling could get worse!
Then again... Izaya had always known depending on others was pointless.
Angrily he uses one hand to lift himself back up, the other covering eyes that had started crying before he had become aware of it.
His body could take crashing into a few things as he tried to find his way back into his apartment.]
U ///3///U
His hand is starting to go numb, but his stomach is too twisted in nauseous knots to even think of moving. ]
Can't...
I can't...
Re: U ///3///U
Here, idiot.
[The informant slides to sit down beside the raven, eyes closed so that he can hold the compressing ice upon his lids, as he takes the moment to just recover.]
Re: U ///3///U
He doesn't want Izaya to see, but it's inevitable. The expression on his face. One of pain, a trickle of shock, a paler quality to already pale skin, his eyelids hooded. He's in a state. Everything he does hurts, even a slight movement to try and pick up the icepack makes him seethe.
He fumbles with it over and over. Uselessly. In the end he decides to just drape his broken and sprained wrist over the icepack, eyes finally trailing to check on his own body. ]
Your- ugh. My eyes, flea. You can see, right?
no subject
Lights hurt.
[The informant explains before tapping Shizuo on the side.]
Be sure the wrist is elevated.
[He can't see but for some reason the informant presumes Shizuo wasn't doing so]
no subject
But elevating? Oh, he's trying; every time he tries to lift it, he seethes and lays it back down on the ice. ] Can't move it. [ There's an acidity to his tone. ] I fucking told you.
[ There's the sound of a shuffle as he finally manages to move closer to Izaya, holding the ice pack and wrist in his lap. With his less-hurting arm, he's reaching up, batting at those hands covering that face. ]
Lemme see- tch- move your hands, louse. [ Then he's staring into his own face, looking at the red watery, bloodshot eyes. ] Shit.