Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 15:16:15 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | "Come on, Buzen, play cards with me! You know you want to~"
The other male could be so... whiny when he wanted something, the redhead thought to himself as he scribbled yet another answer into the newspaper's crossword. He liked filling it out as the day went on, and in fact, it was a new stress-management technique that he was working on. Every time that he wanted to punch something or throw something at someone, he would pencil in another word instead. It was an elegant compromise, or at least, so he'd thought before his best friend had come in and started trying to persuade him to play strip poker. A five letter word for a word meaning 'foolishly trusting'...
A vein pulsed on his forehead and, when his pencil snapped when he was in the middle of the 'a', he finally felt his self-control evaporate. "You are a professional hustler for a living. You set gambling rings, and you make your money by arranging outcomes in your favor. With that being said, do you really think me naive enough to play strip poker with you?"
"No," came the cheeky answer, "I expect you to play because you fall for my devilishly handsome good looks and my charming smile."
Needless to say, Buzen's attempt at anger management quickly failed as the crossword was promptly used to swat at the younger's man's head.
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but in the end Words;; 232 Prompt;; Naive Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 15:25:19 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | "There he goes!"
"Get him!"
"That brat stole from Miyagi!"
Buzen was nine, and he was just discovering the cons of trying to be a theif with an easily recognizable appearance inside of a small town. He had a small gang of thugs chasing after him, and with his ruby hair and sapphire eyes, it wasn't very hard to identify him as the culprit who had stolen their leader's wallet.
He skidded to a stop in a dead end of a street, wheeling around to try to flee again, only to realize that he'd been herded like a common Ponyta as the entrance to the alley closed off. They were on him quickly, and he let out a loud yelp, clawing and kicking and biting to free himself for long enough to shoot off again, more elusive than an Ekans when he very well wanted to be.
He'd had more than enough practice running from the police, and besides, he was far smarter than they were. Just because they were all criminals didn't mean that they were the same. Buzen was an entirely different animal than they were and he knew it too. He'd just have to survive long enough to come up with a plan to get himself out of this mess.
Until then he'd just keep running. | |
but in the end Words;; 219 Prompt;; Animal Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 15:34:59 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | There were very few times that Buzen would become hysterical. Now was one of those times.
"Mom, you spent all of my money for a birthday present on booze?!? I can't believe you! My birthday comes around once a year, and I get it, you don't like me, but you don't have to treat me so badly because you got knocked up by some guy!" That was a word he'd learned at school two years ago, and when he'd heard his mother scream it at him a month later, he'd figured out exactly what it meant, and in a hurry too.
"You don't want me, well fine, I can live with that! Out of all the mothers in the world, I wouldn't have picked you either, but you don't see me complaining! All you do is drink away our money for food, and when I bring in more money to cover the bills, you take it so that you can go get more beer! It's disgusting! The other kids all hate me because I'm poor, and I can't even find it in me to hate you for making them hate me! How sick is that? You hate me and you're the reason why other people hate me, and I don't even hate you in return!"
"You shut your mou-"
"I wish you had never given birth to me!"
A hush filled the house then, the first of many calms in an argument that would last for years before being ended with the slamming of a door and the shattering of a beer bottle. | |
but in the end Words;; 263 Prompt;; Hush Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 15:42:03 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | The dawn would be here within a matter of an hour, and in that time, he would have to be gone from this place. He had set the fire, taken the money, changed the passwords, emptied the accounts... everything had been set up so that they'd be cleaning up from their mistake for at least a decade, if not two or three. It served them right for thinking to drive a knife into his back.
But even genii could be selfish, and Buzen was no exception. He sat there, in his rooms, head tilted back and eyes watering. He felt no sentimental attachment to the living quarters, not anymore - or at least, nothing negative at any rate. The positive feelings that he'd harbored had turned to gall and resentment the moment that he'd found out about the affair.
But soon it would be all over. The fire would take him and he would run away, far away, and they would never find him again. Soon his suffering would be over and he wouldn't have to look the man he loved - and hated - in the eye anymore knowing that the whispers of commitment were nothing but fantasies not even his heart held faith in anymore.
Soon the dawn would come, and his empire would not be around to see it. Soon. | |
but in the end Words;; 223 Prompt;; Soon Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 15:54:18 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | Usually Buzen didn't like being the only one awake. The stillness and quiet was terribly lonely, and after everything that he had been through, he wasn't sure if he could ever take being alone ever again. A soft sigh left his throat, and he turned to roll over, fully expecting to have to retrieve his Charmander from its Pokeball just to be able to sleep in peace.
His best friend was asleep in a chair. His eyes widened, and for a moment, he tensed up defensively before he relaxed, calming himself as he reassured himself that everything was okay. The younger man wasn't going to hurt him. He was so glad to see the redhead alive that he wasn't even going to question the why, and that was why the elder had permitted him to stay.
With a sigh, he threw his pillow at the other, making the man start, his hand instinctively going for a weapon that was sitting on the table on the other side of the room. "Get up here," Buzen mumbled with a jerk of his head, "I'd rather not have you complaining tomorrow about how your back is sore because you were stupid enough to stay in a chair."
A few minutes later, with his friend snoring softly in the bed beside him, he decided that the stillness had been broken thoroughly enough for him to sleep; he slept better than he had in all the months that he'd been hiding, all because of the man whose back pressed against his own while they slumbered. | |
but in the end Words;; 260 Prompt;; Still Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:04:38 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | Buzen was being followed. He could feel it in the prickling in the hairs on the back of his neck. Growling, he wheeled around to see a small Charmander, a red bandana tied around its neck, the Pokemon trying to pretend that it was interested in the trash can to the side.
He turned around and walked for another handful of steps, then wheeled around again to startle the Fire-type into letting out a yelp and then trying to hide behind a lamp post. The redhead let out a sigh. He had never had a Pokemon before, so it wasn't as if he could beat the little lizard into leaving him alone. Though he was alone in the world now, so perhaps it would be for the better if he had some sort of companion that he knew he could count on when he wasn't sure if he could trust anyone in the world.
"Okay," he sighed, "you can come, just don't expect me to be able to give you anything good. I'm not a Trainer, I'm just on the run."
"Charrr," the Pokemon replied, bouncing up beside him and tagging along, though it was careful to keep a step or two behind to show its respect and deference.
"And you're going to have to lose the bandana," the redhead added with a scowl. "It makes you look stupid."
This was the beginning of a beautiful friendship. Buzen could feel it in his bones. | |
but in the end Words;; 244 Prompt;; Friend Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:20:19 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | "Moron."
"Yeah?"
"Get your butt out of my face!"
"Well get your face out of my butt!"
Buzen let out an irritated sound and aimed a kick down at his best friend, though he was considerate enough to miss despite his exasperation. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd just stayed up near the top of the bed like I'd told you to!"
"I didn't want to wake up to you cuddling me in your sleep again, that was awkward!"
"And how is this any better, you idiot?!?" Silence reined in the room for a long moment following the sarcastic question. "Yeah, that’s what I thought. No wonder I'm the genius out of the two of us."
"Then stop complaining and start thinking about how to get us out of this mess, genius!"
"What do you think I've been trying to do, have tea and do a crossword puzzle?"
"Well now that you mention it..."
"You will end that sentence right now before I aim another kick at your head, and this time I won't miss."
Ah, the joys of a small bed and motel sheets that were somehow flexible enough to get the two of them hopelessly tangled up and then stiff enough to prevent them from escaping the resulting knot again. | |
but in the end Words;; 212 Prompt;; Close Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:21:18 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | He was pressed against a brick wall, his hands shackled above his head and his legs spread wide enough to make it so he couldn't lash out, couldn't kick himself free and go back to running away from love and sensation and feeling. His lips were quite firmly occupied with those of his best friend, and he couldn't help but to let out the softest of whines, so afraid of this being his last moment on earth that he threw caution to the wind and started to kiss back. He didn't care about the consequences anymore, and that brought to life feelings that he'd never known slumbered deep inside of him.
Then, all of a sudden, it was ripped away from him and he let out a sharp growl of protest, stretching as far as he could to try to follow, only to fall short. It took him a moment to hear the whispered worship of how he was back, how he was alive, and as soon as he did, a pang of guilt shot through his heart. He should never have doubted his friend, and that conviction only firmed when the other let go of his wrists to twine their fingers together, almost as if he expected the redhead to disappear again into the crowd.
It was right then and there that Buzen would spend his whole life trying to make up for splitting them up, but as long as they were together, it would be okay. | |
but in the end Words;; 248 Prompt;; Together Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:23:26 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | It had taken him months upon end to do it, but he had finally managed it. He had gathered up enough money to be able to buy a small bar of chocolate, the first that he had ever tasted, and as soon as he'd purchased it, he gathered it up in his hands and ran, darting through the maze of streets until he found a quiet corner to unwrap it.
But there was one thing that Buzen hadn't counted on: the Mandibuzz-like qualities of other children. "What you got there, ginger?" the schoolyard bully mocked, sauntering over and snatching it from the seven year old's hands.
"Give that back, it's mine!" The child swiftly got to his feet, immediately ending up in the clichéd position of jumping to try to get back an object held just out of his reach by someone bigger and crueler than he was.
"Not anymore it's not," the elder kid sneered, taking a large bite out of the luxury and then chewing exaggeratedly, rubbing in the fact that he'd taken it from the boy.
It was obvious that he hadn't anticipated how good of a back-swing that Buzen had, though to be fair, neither had the redhead either. It was the first fight that he'd gotten into, but it would by no means be his last. | |
but in the end Words;; 221 Prompt;; Fight Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:37:39 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | For almost as long as he could remember, Buzen had worn a mask. It wasn't a literal type of mask, but more of a metaphorical one to hide his emotions from the world. His childhood had been a rough one, as might be imagined from someone who had the misfortune of growing up poor. Children could and would eat someone alive if they weren't careful. But his past was off-limits now. He had made sure to delete all traces of it that he could, and anyone who knew him was well aware that even hinting in that direction was like stepping on a bombshell: You simply didn't do it.
In his world, showing even a moment of weakness could get you killed. The coup had proven that to him. He had been weak and bared his heart to the man he used to love; he had been repaid with a knife aimed for his back and a bed that he was cuckolded out of.
It was funny though, how quickly his best friend managed to cut him back down to size, slicing right through the ice and the fire and everything else that he hid behind to find the true man underneath the intelligence and the fiery temper. The younger man read him in the same way that the redhead would the stock reports in the newspapers, and in any other situation, that would have scared him.
Anyone else would be dead. There was one reason niggling at himself for why it was that the man with the orange-gold eyes and the violet hair had managed to survive in spite of his ability to understand Buzen, but that was hidden beneath the corner of a mask that not even the redhead himself was quite ready to peel off and glance behind.
At least, not yet. | |
but in the end Words;; 305 Prompt;; Mask Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:40:33 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | "Ow! Hey! Be a little more careful where you put that!"
Buzen let out a huff, lips pressing into a thin line with his irritation. "Well maybe I'd be more careful if you would stop squirming when I got near you with the hydrogen peroxide!" he snapped, sapphire eyes sparkling with the force of his emotion. He didn’t have to be here babying the younger male, he could very well just throw the first aid box at the other and call it a night. He would be well within his right to do so, especially with all the fuss that he had been getting trying to bandage and clean everything.
"But it hurts, Zuzu!" the other man whined, a pout turning down his lips, and the redhead had to take a moment to refirm himself in the face of it, reminding himself that he already had someone who he loved dearly.
"Of course it hurts," he grumbled, glaring. "It's hydrogen peroxide. What else do you think I'm going to clean that wound with, dirt? Unless you'd rather do it yourself."
Quiet reigned supreme in the room for a long moment before the injured hand was restored to Buzen's grip. "I want you to do it." Every successive dab with the cotton ball would be greeted with a wince, but the arm wasn't jerked away again. The redhead’s heated glare made sure of that. | |
but in the end Words;; 233 Prompt;; Clean Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 16:57:11 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | Buzen had never been one to believe in superstition. He didn't buy into happy endings with the white knight, he had never been one for Santa Claus or the Tooth Fairy, and as far as bad luck went, he didn't put stock in that either.
But everyone has their own weak point, and for the redhead, it seemed to be shooting stars. On the night of the meteor shower, the eleven year old shooed his mother out of the house to go drinking - the first time he'd ever encouraged her habit rather than throwing a fit over it or flat-out ignoring it - and then watched the heavens attentively, not wanting to miss a moment where he might be able to have the chance to put forth voice to a wish to the celestial beings of the heavens that he didn't believe in.
He was about to lose hope when he finally spotted one streaking across the sky, and immediately he closed his sapphire eyes, ducking his head to hide behind his crimson hair. "Please..." he whispered softly, his voice fervent with emotion, "I just want the chance to escape from here and find someone. I don't care if I'm poor for the rest of my days. I just want to have someone to love." He wet his lips, feeling a hint of color stealing up his cheeks. "I don't care about the money. I'd throw it all away if it meant that I was happy. I just want someone who can make me smile. If I can have that, then... then I can do without any of the rest."
The next morning, the stars had faded, but the hope that they had kindled burned brightly enough in Buzen's breast that he had the courage to take the steps he needed towards leaving his mother behind so that he could free himself from the shackles of her alcoholism forever. | |
but in the end Words;; 320 Prompt;; Stars Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 17:10:02 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | "You should come back to the gang. I miss having you around. And you could put the finances in far better order than they could."
The comment was entirely casual, but it made Buzen tense up, pausing in leaning forward to take a bite out of his chicken alfredo. Slowly, the fork lowered to the plate, metal meeting china with a soft clinking sound. "I'm sorry," he muttered, wiping his mouth with a napkin before tossing it onto the table, "but that's not an option anymore."
"Why though? You belong there and you know it."
Sapphire eyes narrowed. "Wrong. I don't belong there. I never have, and I never will ever again, and if you want to keep me around, you're going to keep on pretending that I'm dead, otherwise I'll run away again, and this time you won't ever find me."
Immediately, the redhead could tell that was the wrong thing to say as the younger reeled back as though he'd been struck. "You are a lot of things, Buzen Zenki," he murmured, rising himself, the flash that the elder saw of those orange-gold eyes betraying hurt and pain, "but I never thought cruel to be one of them."
A touch of panic ran through him when he saw the younger start towards the door, and before he could think to do anything else, he reached out to wrap his hand around the other's arm. "Wait..." he pleaded softly, the closest he would get to begging. "I just... I can't explain it to you now, but I have a good reason for not going back."
A long silence, and then: "Will you one day?"
"Yes," Buzen uttered with a nod, "I promise."
And he intended to keep it too. | |
but in the end Words;; 290 Prompt;; Panic Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 17:21:00 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | The funeral was short and sweet. Many mourners came to speak about the life of Buzen Zenki. Few of them were the sort of people that most would want to have at a funeral, but their words would have made even the finest of nuns proud to have them speak at hers.
Fine friend. Noble companion. Passionate lover. Dedicated worker. Intelligent man. Sorely missed. Gone too soon. All were phrases tossed around by those giving the eulogies, and several of them got choked up with tears midway through their speeches, though they were able to get past their grief in order to continue. They thought that the man deserved to have his praises sung, and they weren't about to let their own emotions muzzle them from mourning his loss with the world.
It was such a bunch of lies.
Buzen rolled his eyes from underneath his umbrella, his bright ruby hair kept hidden under a hat while his sparkling sapphire eyes sheltered behind tinted sunglasses. It was strange going to his own funeral and listen about what people were saying if he were dead, but then again, he knew exactly what kind of snakes he had made his bed with, so in a way, he kind of expected the words that were said that day.
The tears from his best friend had been unexpected though. He wondered how long it had taken the younger man to muster up the ability to cry on command, and then he shook his head, dismissing the matter from his mind as he walked away from the service, ignoring the pallbearers carrying an empty casket towards a grave site for a man who was not dead.
It wasn't as if any of it mattered anymore anyway. Life went on, and just because someone had reached the end didn't mean that that changed. | |
but in the end Words;; 307 Prompt;; The End Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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Phantom of the Black Parade
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Post by Kuroya on Dec 23, 2013 17:27:54 GMT -8
i tried so hard
and got so far | Buzen had always liked the text of his computer. It was smooth, clean, efficient - everything that the man prized above all else. That was why he would read newspapers over the handwritten notes given to him by his underlings, why he would send out mass memos rather than take the time to give a command orally, and why he would always elect to print out a message over actually writing it out.
He could write, which was a sight better than many children from a similar background to his could manage, but if he was being honest, he hated his own handwriting. It wasn't neat or flowing, it was harsh, jagged, and slanted. Sometimes he would even have trouble reading his own handwriting if sufficient time had passed to ensure he had forgotten what he was supposed to be reading, and that wasn't something he would stand for.
Not that he would admit it, of course. He would just huff and glare at anyone who suggested that his handwriting was even remotely illegible and he wouldn't back down until they retreated with their tails between their legs. That was just how he handled his affairs.
So when his lover had the audacity to ask if he wanted the younger to rewrite his shopping list for him, romantic interest or not, the redhead thought nothing of smacking the other's shoulder with a scowl. He really should have known better than to go there. | |
but in the end Words;; 243 Prompt;; Text Template by Kuroya. it doesn't even matter
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