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damned_institute2007-12-19 07:52 am
deathbymidget.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2007-12-19 07:52 am
Entry tags:
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Day 29: Chapel
Hiei didn't give a damn about religious services, meditation, or pretending to be social. The always sudden waking after night put him in a bad mood, this one particularly so. Even with Kurikara licking him like some perverted moron, the warmth the dragon provided was welcome in Hiei's bed, and missing when he woke, giving the surrounding air a greater sense of chill.
But the perfect thing to relieve his anger might just be making an appearance that morning, and that at least gave Hiei hope for a decent day.
Hopefully Kurikara and Kurama both would be clever enough to figure it out for themselves. Without hesitation, Hiei demanded to be led to the temple, taking a seat in one of the rear pews. Humans had a way of overdoing things, and this place wasn't really much exception to that. Granted Hiei's limited knowledge prevented him from realizing there were much more outrageous churches, but to the demon, the colored pieces of glass and polished wood seemed to be much.
It didn't matter, however. Either could be turned into weapons, perfect objects to slice into that damned head doctor's throat or bash in his skull. That was a thought worth grinning about.
[Feel free to pester. Just, uh, be aware that he's not exactly nice.]
But the perfect thing to relieve his anger might just be making an appearance that morning, and that at least gave Hiei hope for a decent day.
Hopefully Kurikara and Kurama both would be clever enough to figure it out for themselves. Without hesitation, Hiei demanded to be led to the temple, taking a seat in one of the rear pews. Humans had a way of overdoing things, and this place wasn't really much exception to that. Granted Hiei's limited knowledge prevented him from realizing there were much more outrageous churches, but to the demon, the colored pieces of glass and polished wood seemed to be much.
It didn't matter, however. Either could be turned into weapons, perfect objects to slice into that damned head doctor's throat or bash in his skull. That was a thought worth grinning about.
[Feel free to pester. Just, uh, be aware that he's not exactly nice.]
no subject
"Guess we'll see," he replied. He wasn't one to sit back and wait though; that was what made you easy, predictable. Of course, if that was all your enemy thought you were doing, that made things a bit more interesting.
"Sounds like more trouble n' it's worth," Gin's smile returned. "Ichimaru Gin," he added, more out of habit than anything else. "Former Japanese p'sonification a' death."