InsaneJournal

Tweak says, "Orange is the new blue."

vc_player_npc (vc_player_npc) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,
@ 2009-05-17 18:59:00

Entry tags:

!dropped, day 08, kimihiro watanuki, location: museum, npc

Who: Clone!Watanuki & Watanuki
What: Encore of the Anti-Watanuki chaos
Where: The museum
When: Night
Rating: TBD, but PG for starters
Status: Active

The impostor was still laughing from his encounter earlier with the little blonde troll and the idiot. It had felt good to say to them all of the things that the real Watanuki would never say, all of the things that, in fits of anger, he may have thought. It was highly unlikely, though, that he ever would have thought such things. Regardless, there was material there to feel that way, and injustice towards himself was something that he was not going to put up with.

It was then that he noticed a familiar figure. They were the same right down to their very clothes. He had to wonder, though, if he looked quite that dopey from behind. He decided that he did not. Arms crossed over his chest, the anti-Watanuki simply stood there, silent, studying his doppelganger. There was the spineless one, the one that was cursed to lie with leeches.

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vc_player_npc
2009-05-21 03:26 pm UTC (link)

It had been a rough day. Aside from meeting up with Tink and Domeki and trying to enlighten them, he'd kept low. His stomach was still screaming, though it was not only with pain, it was also with hunger. Without knowing why, Watanuki had followed some odd sixth sense to the museum. It appeared that like really did call to like. Not knowing where to go, though, he had curled himself up in the corner of the common area until he was certain that everyone was asleep.

Standing, he watched as someone entered the room, and he was more than a little surprised to see himself. Taking off his glasses, he rubbed them with a corner of his shirt and put them back on. His other self was drinking water. Did he do that often? For some reason it didn't stick out in his mind.

He decided it would be best to leave quietly. Unfortunately, he had been gifted with the same degree of grace and subtlety that the real version possessed. His foot hit a creaking board, and he knew that he was close enough for him to see himself.

Straightening up, he resolved to meet himself head on. He stared at himself, his hands sliding into his pockets, eyes looking at the real Watanuki over the rim of his glasses. "You shouldn't be up," he said, no sign of his earlier malice in his voice. Being mean to oneself was a little masochistic.

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