Akuno Kikuya (offtherunway) wrote in light_of_may, @ 2010-02-20 14:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | #solo, 2009-07-04 |
Every living thing with a fatal sting bark and rattle this curse
Who: Kikuya Akuno, Makoto (NPC), and an unfortunate reporter (NPC)
Where: The Mudhouse
When: Afternoon
To say that Kikuya was furious when she woke up that morning was an understatement. Huge fucking understatement. She made the term 'bitch on wheels' actually sound like a compliment with how batshit pissed off she was. Rolling out of her bed that morning to find fifty missed calls with just as many voice messages made her tear the phone out of the wall and chuck it across the room in anger. The poor personal chef that was given to her as a gift for her birthday was all sorts nervous to find her new boss storming out of the bedroom in a blind rage. Awesome way to start the first day. At least the chef made a decent breakfast, or else Kikuya would have chucked the plate in the chef's face.
A good part of her morning was spent inside, doing nothing but replaying what was going on in her mind over and over. How the fuck did media tabloids get a hold of information from Las Vegas? Her party was exclusive as hell and everyone there was clean in her book. No one was a paparazzi. Unless someone got tipped off a considerable amount of money. True, it was partly Kikuya's own fault for getting plastered and going back to her suite to have sex with Whisper, but logic wasn't a strength of Kikuya's. Someone was spreading rumors about her and she did not appreciate it. Her and Whisper were nothing more than close friends who worked together... and apparently got too carried away while in Las Vegas.
You do know that sitting around all day isn't going to make anything better, right?" Makoto nuzzled into her lap, purring insanely loud.
"Tch, the hell am I suppose to do? Just walk the streets like nothing happened?!"
This isn't the city - it's Scarlet Oak. Honestly, who's going to come all the way out here just to pester you?
The cat had a point. No one had been knocking on her door, nor was anyone remotely near Cherryblossom. Thankfully the complex had insanely good security or else Kikuya was going to curse the entire property. After sulking a bit in her home for a while longer, she eventually decided that it was best to get on out of the house and do something productive.... maybe. Besides, she had to give her new Ashton Martin for a spin. Such a lovely vehicle. Whisper definitely gave her the best gift and she made a mental note to call the vampire later to thank her.
Kikuya had headed to the Mudhouse with Makoto in tow for something cool to drink, completely unaware of the fact that the place would be busy. There were signs hanging up to advertise for the battle of the bands event that night, which made her scoff, and everyone in there was busy talking about said event. That and talking about the fireworks that night. Kikuya could have cared less about stupid American holidays. As she approached the counter, she ordered a large iced green tea and proceeded to wait impatiently.
"Excuse me, Miss Akuno? Is that you?"
Part of Kikuya knew it was a bad idea to acknowledge someone talking to her, somewhat due to the fact she was going to be poked and prodded about the tabloid pictures, but mostly because she was not in the mood to talk to anyone. For the time being she ignored the voice, but after they insisted to keep talking, she whipped her head around, lifted her sunglasses onto the top of her head, and spat out coldly, "What?!"
The poor woman standing before her flinched, though didn't back down. Kikuya immediately saw the small notepad and pen the woman was carrying around, along with a copy of one of the many tabloids that had Kikuya's face plastered all over. Lovely. The woman went on to say she was for some random magazine, obviously, and wanted to know if she was able to ask Kikuya a few questions. The model only glared at her with fury in her eyes.
"No question-ah."
"It's only a few! I'm sure you can answer some simple questions. I promise it won't take up much of your time."
She went on and on while Kikuya stood there, and in turn she flat out ignored the reporter. Clutching her fist tightly, she brought her closed hand up to her lips and turned away. Makoto poked his head out of the Coach bag he was in, noticing that the reporter simply would not shut up. As his eyes turned to Kikuya, he realized that not only was she ignoring the woman, she was also casting a spell. The model's nails dug into her palm enough to draw blood and was chanting soft words in Japanese over and over. Makoto suspected a combination of a blood and black spell, and with his presence there along with her strong demonic blood, the spell was going to be amped up quite considerably.
The reporter was in the middle of a sentence when she suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream, dropping all of her belongings while she fell to her knees. Her hands went immediately to her throat, gasping for air as she began begging for help. A few onlookers rushed over to her to inspect what was wrong. It appeared that the woman's tongue and throat was starting to swell up, as if she were having a painful allergic reaction. People began dialing 911, frantically praying that the woman would be ok, and completely overlooked Kikuya standing there. Normally she liked being center of attention, but seeing they were crowding around her due to her successful spell, then all was well. "That'll teach you to shut up," Kikuya snarled in Japanese.
By then, her iced green tea was done, in which Kikuya reached out to retrieve with her bloodied hand. The barista instantly freaked out, trying to inform the Japanese woman that she was, well, bleeding pretty bad. To that, Kikuya merely placed her sunglasses back onto her face and flipped her curly hair over her shoulder. "I know." And with that, she walked on out of the coffeeshop, completely ignoring what was going on with the reporter. The swelling would go down in thirty minutes. Maybe. Who knew. If not, bitch deserved to die.