WARNING
This roleplay will include humor, dark tones and sorta-kinda drama.
Read at your own risk.


On a lighter note... this might be fun.

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Sitting alone and waiting for that someone your friends – who are a couple, too – set you up with, didn’t sound at all appealing especially when he’d specifically said he didn’t care even if they made out on his couch. He was mighty fine with them happy with each other and him being the third wheel should he be dragged out to whenever they asked him to. Of course, he didn’t agree to all of their requests. He had deadlines to catch up on, after all. That, and if he ran out of ink, they always had perfect timing even though he’d waste about half of his day being dragged around the department or the grocery store.

But today… today wasn’t a perfect day at all.

Not only did he run out of ink, he also ran out of paper and when he was just about to use his computer, some hacker had decided to destroy his hard drive, left malwares in his windows files and left a stupid and childish message on the screen. It’s not even worth remembering what that message was because the next thing he knew, he’d grabbed his CPU with a strength he didn’t know he had, threw it onto the wall and watched with what seemed to be some kind of sickening amusement to see the thing crack into pieces. Some of his computer pieces were gone, though, when the technician had come to fix it but he didn’t really give a rat’s ass about that.

He just hated the fact that the technician was freely using his kitchen and was using his ingredients while he, on the other hand, was in his room writing and using a pencil he had to sharpen all the time because he liked his writing better with a sharp, pointed tip. Perhaps, he was strange that way, but his friends didn’t seem to mind his rather eccentric nature. Not like they would want to complain considering they usually have him pay for their food should he be dragged out of his cramp and dusty little abode he called his haven.

Then, about ten minutes before six o’clock that same evening, the couple had come barging into his place to bathe him, dress him up and pretty much try to make him look good. They’ve never done that before but he didn’t pay it any mind until he’d seen the restaurant they seemed to be talking about a lot come into view. The two spoke to the maitre d’ and the tall, lanky man with the moustache with its curls on the either ends and a hair that seemed to have been tamed too much with gel was flat on the man’s head nodded before showing them to a table for two. It was only then that he’d frowned and started to suspect the two were up to something.

“It’s not bad being single, true, but we don’t want you alone when you come with us,” the smaller of the two, Rey, said, “I talked about it here with Mark and he agrees with me.”

All Keith could do was glare at the redhead who smiled sheepishly at him. “You’re not too bad looking,” Mark added as if what Rey had said wasn’t enough, “We’ve set you up with one of Rey’s friend who is interested in your books. I’m sure you two will have a lot to talk about tonight.” Mark nudged Keith a bit. “And, we’ve fixed you up real good. You look human at least.”

“At least?” Keith growled back as his brow twitched, “When have we ever established I am not human, Mark?” When he’d seen the redhead purposely look off to the side, towards Rey, he kissed his lover on the lips. “Come on,” he told Rey, “We better leave before he comes. You’ve told him how he’s dressed like, right?”

Keith could feel the dread coming on over his whole body. After a minute or two, he felt the need to go to the bathroom but his legs proved to be useless when he’d been forced to take one of the seats. The maitre d’ had long gone back to his post and the blonde let out a shaky breath. He couldn’t get out of this one now, could he? Well, he could walk out on the guy and stand him up. It’s not like he’s interested at all. He liked being single and he liked being alone.

Just what kind of disaster, to be exact, did these two mongrels plan to reign upon him? Was him paying for their meals, clothes, shoes, and groceries not enough?

So. A date.

He wasn't sure what to think about that. Still, the white haired man walked into the restaurant, wondering why he even decided to listen to Rey in the first place. He honestly hoped it wasn't a waste of time, he had canceled ALL of his plans today just for this stupid date with some guy he didn't know. Rey had said something about books and writing and he had absently agreed to everything the other said, which had gotten him into this in the first place.

And if he backed off, Mark would be pissed off. And his sister was a friend of Mark's. Who would then decided to be a complete bitch to him for the rest of his life.

God dammit.

He was directed to the table, and raised a brow at the man there. A blonde, huh? That was interesting. Well, now or never, right? He walked over to the table, taking a seat opposite of the man without a word and assessing his appearance. A small smile split his lips. He was a cutie~! Very cute. He wondered if the man was a top or a bottom before he decided he didn't care.

Issac Romald was a very attractive person- A pretty boy, one would say, with long white hair that was tied in to a low ponytail, some freckles brushing the bridge of his nose and cheeks, pale skin and pale green eyes, along with a slender figure and fingers out would imagine a pianist would have. However, there something about the way he carried himself and smiled was... Irritating. Like he knew everything you didn't and was laughing at you because of it.

"So I take it you're Keith? You're a lot cuter than I thought." And there was the kicker. His voice was like liquid sex, charisma and aphrodisiac rolled into one, making it hard to deny him of... Well, anything. "I'm Issac. Nice to meet you." His eyes gave Keith another once over. "Very nice."

A silent curse was muttered under his breath at the sudden mention of his name from a stranger who looked awfully… pretty. Too pretty, in fact that it had Keith wanting to belch. Even he never made his characters in his book this perfect looking. That, and who would have white hair in this generation? Wait, did the era change while he was hibernating in his place and typing away all those bestseller novels and unknowingly have his bank account start to fatten up? I should have known it’d come to this, he thought as he frowned and literally glared at this… pretty boy.

His being pretty was definitely making him want to strangle his friends for setting him up with him. Though, he’d probably do the same, too, if the guy they’d set him up was ugly. Not that he knew what he meant by the word ‘ugly’. He’d never gone out to the real world for long to see what ‘beauty’ is and what ‘ugly’ is. But, there was one thing he could say about this guy: he almost seemed too perfect. He did notice the man’s voice and he idly wondered just how many men and women he’d bedded with his current image.

“It’s not nice to meet you at all. I’ve been forced into something like this and what I get is you?” he bit back venomously and pursed his lips. Now that his legs were starting to work, he got up to his feet and pointed to the seat across him. “Now sit down and order. I’ll be right back.” He did wish he didn’t have to say the last words but it seemed that he couldn’t end this night right, at least, without a promised dinner. He couldn’t leave this Issac hungry even if he wanted to. Walking off to the bathroom, he quickly went into one of the urinals to get rid of his bag of bladder that had been tempting to burst since a while ago.

...This man didn't like him, and he was immune to his voice. Then again, he wasn't actually using it to its full power, but in the end, was unaffected. This was going to be awesome. He was rather surprised by his lack of tact, but it was rather adorable to Issac. He hummed lightly as he watched the man walk off towards the bathroom, twirling a strand of hair around his finger.

When Keith was out of sigh, he gave a chuckle. How cute. He was really starting to like the surly writer, and he only just met him. He paused as the waiter appeared with water, and scanning the menu, grinned and gave his order, a terribly fun idea in mind. With that done, he waited for Keith to return, reading a pocket sized book as he waited, humming all the while.

He felt his phone vibrate, probably Rey wanting to know how it was going, and ignored it.

He would later regret it.

It wasn’t hard to tell that he disliked Issac. After all, he was very obvious about it. He had secrets, sure, but he never kept from anyone if he disliked them. There was no way in hell, too, that he’d make it look like he was interested. He never was one for masks and he disliked honest people. That’s the very one thing that could blow his lid off.

Once he was done with his bathroom issues, he washed his hands well, wiped them with some paper towels and dropped the said damp paper towels into the bin while he was heading out. He ignored the knowing and admiring looks sent his way by those that recognized him as he took the seat across the said pretty boy. “I do hope you ordered something edible,” he said with a face.

"Fear not, dearest, for I ordered the platter~! There should be something you'd like on it." He chuckled, sipping his water. He looked back at Keith and smiled. "Well, might as well get to know each other while we wait, no? I heard you write books. Which ones?"

To anyone else, this was a stupid question, but Issac sincerely had no idea who Keith was, having not bothered to look up information on him. The waiter came by with the appetizer, a small basket of breaded mozzarella sticks, and placed it between them. Issac took one, not eating it but just staring at it, as if making a decision, before shrugging. "Ah well, diets are stupid anyway." And he looked back to Keith expectantly, absently nibbling lightly on the appetizer.

Issac looked completely unaware of how attractive he made eating look... Well, mostly. He did know he made the things he did look good, but just not how good. Many a patron around them, when not staring at the renown writer, were staring at him very appreciatively.

He wondered how far he would have to go to 'seduce' the writer into his bed... Would he have to use his abilities to the fullest? He hoped so, it wouldn't be fun otherwise.

The word ‘dearest’ made Keith’s eyebrow twitch once more – mostly out of annoyance. When did he give the other the permission to call him that? As he asked this question in his mind, a disgruntled tone came from the back of his throat to give the other a reply before he’d brought up his hand to have it run through his hair. He tugged a bit at the strands at the back of his head and then dropped his hand to his lap. It was a habit he still hadn’t gotten rid of since he’d turned twelve. Whenever he was pissed or annoyed, he did that.

“That’s not necessary,” he said as he’d taken a sip of his own water. Surely, he wouldn’t be seeing the other again but if what Rey had said was true about this pretty boy, he’d be thinking wrong. He did often meet his fans wherever he went. “The Barren Night, Unforgiving Sonata, Heartwarming Rescue are a few of the romance novels I’ve written. I also write short stories.” He wasn’t aware that his short stories were made into a pocket book thanks to his manager. He didn’t know until, of course, Mark and Rey had decided to point them out. He did remember going on a rampage then resulting in his manager cowering at a corner until he’d regained his composure.

When the waiter had come with the small basket of what seemed to be… food, he looked at it for a moment or two and frowned. Perhaps, he’d been hibernating too long. What was this kind of bread called? That, and Mark and Rey tend to drag him not into high class restaurants but simple restaurants that didn’t serve breaded mozzarella sticks for appetizer. “And, you’re on a diet?” he asked with a raised brow. With a body like that, he didn’t see how he shouldn’t be filling that body of his with more fats instead of getting rid of what’s already in there. Unless he’s anorexic, that’d be another story.

It was strange how the other’s nibbling had brought about odd looks sent towards their table’s way. It irritated him and he pursed his lips tightly. A frown even marred his features, yet again. “Quit doing… that,” he started, his tone laced with dread, as he’d lifted his hand from his lap to point at the other with his index finger and motion to the other’s eating style, “Do you seriously have to look so perfect in everything you do?” Perhaps the other didn’t mean it; perhaps it was a hobby. But, he couldn’t help point it out. Did this also mean that the white-haired pretty boy did his things in the bathroom oozing with sexuality, too?

Keith didn’t think he’d want to know the answer to that question.

"Hm? Romance, neh? Funny, you don't seem to know a thing about romance. Never thought you to be the cushy type. Although... What kinda title is Heartwarming rescue? It kinda gives away the plot, doesn't it?" He chuckled, and then raised a brow at the question. A cat-like smile spread across his face at that.

"Oh? Perfect, really? I didn't know you felt that way, I thought you didn't like me!" He gave something that sounded suspiciously like a giggle before he bit into the mozzarella stick, warm, half-melted cheese stretching a bit before breaking. After swallowing, which, if one was paying close attention, made him wince, he spoke again. "Short stories, hm? Sounds interesting. What kind?"

As he ate, he fingered a silver cross around his neck, eyes half-lidded. Even while eating he still look sexy, almost to the point of scary. One of the staring patrons fell out of his chair for leaning out so far to watch. It was the thump that made Issac look over, and the nosy people quickly returned to their dinners.

Keith stared at the other like he’d grown another head. “I’m not,” he answered bluntly before he’d grunted again at the other’s next questions. Gives away the plot? That wasn’t exactly what his critiques had said. “Before you spout nonsense about my work, I’d suggest you read it.” His tone was rather icy as he’d taken one of the said breaded mozzarella sticks from the basket. It reeked of cheese, he’d noticed, and he frowned a little at it. Cheese wasn’t his most favorite dairy product but he couldn’t exactly return it not when he’d already touched it. And, it’s not like he hated cheese.

The other’s reaction to him calling him ‘perfect’ was oddly an unnatural reaction. At least to him, it felt like it. “I don’t,” he said as he’d taken a rather big bite from the piece of bread, “I really dislike you.” In fact, he loathed him to a certain extent. His perfection with that white hair, that freckled face, the seemingly inviting lips, those body movements that just oozed of sexuality – it all irritated him and he honestly wished he could have someone wipe him off from the face of the Earth. “Thriller and mystery.” He was still getting into those categories under fiction writing and honestly, it was no easy task compared to writing romance novels. Sometimes, he had to think whether his sanity was still intact after finishing a couple – three or four short stories, maybe.

The thump had him looking over to the said patron, too, and he looked about at the other people and made a face. If this guy had a lover, he’d probably have a hard time with the stalkers that are sure to come with troublesome, pretty guys who makes everything he does look sexual enough. Was Issac even aware of what he’s doing to people? Honestly. It seemed to Keith like he didn't have a care in the world looking over at the patron like that.

In the meanwhile, Issac finished the last stick. "Mystery? I love mystery, its always so fun to figure them out. Stephen King used to be good before he just stopped trying. I usually know who did what before the book is over, though. Sometimes its so obvious~!"

And the the main course came, a large place with a variety of food on it. One happened to catch his eye. "Oh, I remember these~!" He picked up the hard sweet bread wrap filled with white cream and diced fruits, and bit the top, revealing the cream within. After swallowing, he licked off some cream running down the side and sucked some out, no perverse thoughts in mind, only trying to lower the cream count so he could actually bite and eat it. unfortunately, it only drew the patron's gazes towards him again.

This time, however, he noticed. Still sucking(abiet gently), he stared back at them with a raised brow, but they were not deterred. Finding himself vaguely irritated, his eyes suddenly became half lidded and sucked just a little harder, entrancing his audience...

And the savagely bit down with a large crack, making men and women alike flinch and whimper, turning away. He turned back to Keith, chewing with an expression of irritated boredom. When he finally swallowed, he sighed. "Okay, NOW I get what you meant." He returned to his treat, however, and didn't realize that there was some cream near the corner of his mouth. Normally, this wouldn't mean much but...

It looked a lot like he had just finished sucking something completely different and still had residue. He didn't notice, however, even when he finished the food in question and reached for one of the coconut shrimp.

Keith had to agree on the other’s opinion about Stephen King. Despite him having a rather annoying habit and well, voice, he seemed to be the type who definitely knew what he was talking about. At least, he had to give this one to Rey. He had an interesting batch of friends from the looks of it. He’s only met a few but those few had made themselves different form each other. Perhaps, that’s where he’d gotten his inspiration to write that novel about a group of friends for a sci-fi book. He didn’t tell that to Rey, though, and simply wrote something really vague in the dedication page.

When the main course had come, Keith’s eyes had widened. He definitely had been staying far too long in hibernation. He didn’t recognize any of the food on the platter at all. In fact, when the other had started eating, the first thing he did was watch him as would a child do when he wanted to learn how to… eat. Surprising, though, how he was following that hot and wet muscle of his leave those lips out to lick on the cream that was running down the side with his gaze and only tore his said gaze away at the said sucking. Keith saw the patrons in the restaurant looking over at his acquaintance and he blinked a bit in surprise, yet again, at them flinching and whimpering. It had him looking over at Issac to see a rather large bite off of the odd looking hard sweet bread wrap with those fillings inside. He could only guess what he’d done but he didn’t delve in too deep into that and started to take his fork and knife to… eat.

However it is that people ate this anyway.

Keith was only halfway through his food when he’d seen the other reaching for the coconut shrimp and he quirked a brow at the residue at the corner of the other’s mouth. Seriously now? “Glad to hear that,” was his late reply to the other’s words of realization before he’d shaken his head, “And should you really look like a baby?” A look of irritation crossed the blonde’s face. “Wipe your mouth.”

Issac blinked and raised a brow for a moment before he realized and wiped his mouth with a napkin, taking a large bite out of the shrimp before discarding the tail into a napkin. "By the way, I'm paying. Least I could do, since you're so adamant about not enjoying this. Rey will be terribly disappointed."

He helped himself to other foods presented, glad he had gotten the medium. There was already so much, imagine how big the large would have been! He paused as he spotted something else he hadn't eaten in a while- Quesadillas. He took one and dipped it into the sour cream before taking a bite, watching Keith on occasion. When he had eaten a couple more shrimps and one more quesadilla, he spoke.

"...Why don't you know how to eat?" He had noticed how the man seemed to 'rely' on him for eating certain foods one couldn't possibly be able to eat with a fork. "I heard Rey complain how you liked to hole yourself up, but Christ almighty. You really do need a life outside of work." Not that he would take the criticism well. He then noted there were a few crumbs at the corner of the writer's lips, and immediately a devilish idea appeared in mind.

It was clearly stupid and insane, but Issac was far from sane, and loved to do things at whim. And he had controlled himself quiet enough, anyway. So, he moved a plate out of the way and suddenly stood, leaning over towards Keith with a knee on table, the spot he had just cleared, and, bringing his face close to the blonde's...

He licked the crumbs from the corner of his mouth. He pulled back, grinning and wisely moving away from the table, bracing himself for the fun that was sure to come.

(YAY DESTROYING STUFF)

Keith shook his head at that. There was no way he was going to let someone else pay for his friend’s troubling other people and he pointed this out. “No, you’re not. This is Rey’s problem. It doesn’t matter if he’s disappointed or not with this outcome.” Honestly, Rey and Mark should start minding their own business. If they’re too bothered with him being single then why do they even bother to keep coming back?

While he thought this thought, he didn’t think he’d been too obvious until, of course, Issac pointed it out. The blonde looked up at Issac with his brows raised just a tad before he’d grunted and returned his gaze back to his food. “So I’ve been told,” he started, “But everyone should start minding their own business and that includes you.” Perhaps, his tone had become a little more than venomous when he’d uttered the word ‘you’ and he momentarily put down his utensils to take the glass of water and take a sip from it.

Keith, honestly, hadn’t expected what had come next.

He was just about to put the glass back onto the table when he’d seen – from the corner of his eyes – Issac move forward towards him and do that. His eyes had widened and for a moment there, he’d thought his world had stopped. He was sure it stopped not because he was happy but because no one person had ever done that. The next thing he’d done was stand upright, throw the glass towards the maitre d’ who was standing nearby and snarled.

He had lost it.

The blond writer grabbed the underside of the table and tossed it towards Issac. But, the white-haired male was quick to dodge it and laughed while the said table hit a nearby one. It was like a domino effect. The patrons who were in that booth suddenly stood up and backed off, which followed a series of the other patrons to accidentally swipe their food off their table from the impact, to dive into their food, and the others to grab onto anything – something – that would stop themselves from falling. It had a few frames come off from the hook, had tables overturned and a few other people getting wounded from the broken pieces of glass. The writer didn’t usually have a series of unfortunate events befall upon him. This was the first.

“Don’t you ever touch me, lick me or even look at me with any part of you, you disgustingly perfect mongrel.” Every word that left his lips became venomous and icier with each word and he glared at Issac. It was a glare that had normal people cowering for their lives. Using the sleeve of his shirt to wipe the corner of his lips that Issac had licked, he took off the said shirt to leave himself in his white tank top and tore it into half before he’d tossed it nonchalantly into the ground and left. Of course, he had to decently leave a few bills that almost amounted to a hundred thousand grand on the post where the maitre d’ was standing just a couple of hours ago.

What he’d done would probably leave the restaurant out of business for a while. That, and he’ll have to have his manager fix whatever needs to be fixed here so charges won’t have to be pressed against him. Now, he thought, he better give that small mongrel a call and tell him he and his redheaded lover to fuck off.

"Wow, fanservice~!" Issac said appreciatively besides Keith. Although how he got there was a mystery, suddenly appearing like that. Probably best to keep one's eyes on him. "And you gave me a petname~! Should I come up with one for you?" He asked, smiling cheerfully as if he hadn't had a hand in the terrible destruction caused. It was amazing, just like Rey said, and he couldn't help but want to push the writer's buttons, maybe cause more wide scale destruction as well.

"Ne, ne, all things aside... I like you a lot, so we balance each other out... And I really do want to be your friend..." And suddenly Issac was behind him, too close, one arm wrapped around Keith's front and his breath ghosting on the writer's neck. "Your very, VERY good friend."

And then he groped his ass.

He pulled back immediately, laughing again and dodging whatever blow the blonde sent at him. "See you later, darling~:heart:!" And then turned around the corner and was gone. He really had to thank Rey, for once one of his ideas were very good.

---

Rey hummed as he all but dragged Mark with him to Keith's house, the raven haired man feeling especially cheerful. Indeed, the date would have worked out perfectly well! He couldn't wait for Keith to thank him for his meddling, even Keith didn't deserve to be alone and Issac was perfect for him~!

Issac didn't pick up his phone when he called, so he could only assume the man was busy, and Keith didn't pick up his either. Maybe he was back to writing? Rey frowned. No, why would being introduced to the beautiful wonder of love have him writing again? Unless he was expressing these pure feelings onto paper because he was bursting with joy... Yes, that sounded right!

The delusional but well meaning African/Russian grinned, knocking on the door in an almost irritatingly cheery manner. "Keeeeiiiithhh~! Open the door!" Or would they have to use the spare key again? After a minute or so, he took out his copy of the key and unlocked the door. Walking in and ignoring the state of the surroundings(which seemed suddenly messier), he naively called for Keith again. "Keith? How was the date? You guys got along well, right?"

Keith hadn’t expected the white-haired male to come following him all the way to where he currently was. What was more surprising, though, was that the other didn’t look disheveled at all. How the hell did he get here without being out of breath, too?! As he thought this thought, he felt his eyes widen in horror at the other suggesting coming up a pet name for him. “No,” he replied with haste as he quickened his pace, “That’s not necessary.” Apparently, quickening his pace didn’t slow the male down because he could still hear him and feel him.

Yes. He felt him.

The writer had frozen at Issac coming up behind him and he felt his breath hitch at the other’s breath ghosting on his neck. There was no way he and Issac were going to be very good friends, not with how he was feeling annoyance and irritation to what appeared to him was in a maximum level. The grope to his ass made the writer’s body jerk forward in favor of getting himself away from the other’s hold and that hand while he jabbed his elbow towards the white-haired male. What he felt though was the brush of air ghosting across his skin and he glared at Issac while he snarled. The ‘darling’ nickname made his eyebrow twitch with annoyance.

“Don’t you ever come back,” was what he’d said with an uptight tone as he hailed a cab and went straight home to call Rey. Whom he got to talk over the phone was Mark but he didn’t really give a damn who was who. It was Mark who’d received the blow for Rey and now that he was forced to come along with his lover to his best friend’s place, he wasn’t so sure now if he should be regretting not having his sins confessed before his death when he’d gotten the chance to.

Keith was typing away madly on his computer screen when the two had arrived to his messier place, thanks to his outburst not very long ago. CDs were thrown about messily, pillows had been torn in half, feathers from the pillows were sprinkled along the floor in a nonsensical manner, the couch had been overturned, the television was on the floor face-first, and the cabinets seemed to have misplaced their handles and doors. Mark gulped at the sight of them and he quickly reached up to cover his lover’s mouth as he hissed at him, “Don’t do that! He’ll… He’s angry. Do you want to live or die?!”

“Die, I hope,” Keith said with a rather deadpanned stare as he grabbed the nearest thing he could get – which was the encyclopedia – and threw it towards Rey’s way. Mark pulled his lover back as he blocked the hit with his back. Much as he didn’t mean to, he’d pushed Rey down with him onto the floor with the smaller male cushioning his fall. The redhead groaned and the blonde snarled. The next thing Mark knew, Keith was hitting his back with his clipboard. “What the hell were you two thinking to be putting me up with a mongrel like the both of you? To add to that, too, he had to be… perfect.” When Keith had calmed down, he tossed the half broken clipboard aside and looked down at the two without as much of a care as to what had happened to them.

“I dislike him and I’d rather him be wiped off from the face of the Earth, if possible. It’s not too expensive to call out an assassin, I believe?”

"Uwaah!" He cried as he was dragged down onto the floor in a position he had been in plenty of times with Mark, although this time it clearly wasn't as enjoyable. He watched in vague horror as Keith began to hit Mark with a clipboard. When he was done, Rey got up and fussed over Mark's back. When he deemed the wounds not too serious besides massive bruising, he whirled on Keith with sudden ferocity, green eyes blazing.

"The fucking hell is wrong with you!?" He snarled, suddenly looking less... Adorable and more frightening. "I don't give a flying fuck if you're pissed-" He grabbed Keith by the front of his shirt and pulled him down until their faces were level. "-Do NOT go psycho on us again! Especially not Mark! What kind of friend ATTACKS people who worry about you, dammit!? And now Mark is hurt, apologize! NOW."

He released Keith and crossed his arms, glaring up at the writer who might as well have been and inch tall, with the way the smaller man was glaring at him, and after a moment stalked off into the kitchen to get ice for his lover. When he came back, he glared at Keith again as he put the plastic zip-lock bag full of ice(wrapped in a paper towel) on Mark's back. "Did you apologize?"

If not, he was probably going to have to remind Keith that he knew Systema. Violently.

Mark was pretty much used to being beaten up by his best friend, nonetheless, which was why he empathize those who had experienced the wrath of Keith Wright. With that, he’d probably fallen for Rey because he liked small but terrible men. When he’d heard his lover snarl and look less of his sweet self, Mark wanted to open his mouth and tell the other it’s all right but he stopped at the feeling of pain coursing through his body. “Ngh…” He let out a shaky breath as he’d wrapped his arm around his lover tightly. It was his silent way of saying, ‘Don’t bother, Rey… it’s fine.’

When the other had stood up to leave for the kitchen, he looked over at Keith and smiled slightly in apology. “Sorry about that,” he started before he’d sighed, “I know. We caused you anger. There’s no need to show that, though, to him.” Mark brought up his hand to rub the side of his head. Keith only grunted and he’d crouched down beside the other before he’d made a face. “Sorry.” He grumbled under his breath as he’d reached out to grab the redhead’s arm and pull him up to his feet just as Rey had come back with the ice. Mark hissed when it touched his back but he’d only gritted his teeth and nodded at his lover’s question.

“It’s okay, really,” he told Rey as he leaned in to kiss the smaller male on the lips, “He didn’t hurt me much.” Grinning teasingly, Mark reached out to stroke the Russian-African’s cheek and turned to look over at Keith who walked out of them to go back into his room. The writer returned back to his typing. This time, he was a bit more… calmer, so to speak.

Now that it was over with, Rey brightened up again. "So, like, to answer your questions~! Well, he's not normal and neither are you so Th thought it'd work. He's someone you wouldn't be able to hit since he's so fast, so I figured that'd be good, and if you try to call an assassin, he'd probably kick their ass. Wait." Ry paused, blinking.

"Did you call him perfect?" He looked over to Mark and raised a brow before looking back to Keith. "...Uh. You know the definition of perfect varies person to person so there is no 'set' idea of it, so, uh. You calling Issac perfect is..." A wide grin spread across his face. "I knew it! You guys DID get along! I am awesome!" He gave a victory sign, laughing. "So, what happened? I hear the restaurant had an accident!"

Keith felt his brow twitch in annoyance. He didn't call Issac just perfect. He'd also called him an annoying mongrel. That, and how could he associate himself with mongrels like these, really? Sighing for the umpteenth time, he turned to look over at the laughing Russian-African, small male before he'd given Mark a look. He gave him a look to have him explain it to his lover, instead, because he wasn't going to waste his voice explaining himself.

"Rey," Mark started as he'd reached out for his lover's wrist, "Don't." He wrapped his arms around him from behind and kissed the side of his head. "You might be able to do Systema but he'll be able to kill you and I don't want to lose you." Reaching out, he took Rey's hand making that victory sign and turned to look over at Keith. "And you, I don't want my lover behind bars and you in the hospital either."

Grunting, the writer saved the document, shut the lid and turned his seat around. He put his leg over his other said leg and crossed his arms over his chest. "Your friend licked my skin and I ruined the restaurant," he said with a look of annoyance. Even his voice was laced with venom. "And groped my ass. If I see a hair of his even anywhere nearby me, I will have him arrested for sexual harassment."

"I'd like to see him try." Rey muttered under his breath, a rather out of place smirk on his face before he quickly returned to being obnoxiously upbeat, kissing Mark on the cheek. He gave something between a giggle and a chuckle at the mention of the police.

"Can't. The police gave up years ago. Some noodle incident no one but him and the fuzz know about, and it scarred'em for life. Some times a officer gets cocky but it never ends well.. And good news! Issac's only a pervert to those he likes a lot! But, you probably need to get used to seeing him around, then. If what'cha said is true, then he's gonna be popping up a lot. You guys would be a good couple, anyway, someone needs to knock him down his high hor-" And then his cellphone was ringing. Rey blinked and looked at his pocket, which was vibrating.

Detaching himself from Mark, he pulled it out and flipped it open. "Y'ello~! Oh! Issac! Hi! Did you like the- Huh? Wait, what was that? I didn't catch... What." He stared blankly at Mark, although wasn't exactly paying attention to him. "What do you mean- Wait, no, how is that... Oh crap, is she okay?" And then he was silent for a good two minutes before his gaze became focused again on his lover. "Mark, I gotta go, Kouya's back and... Yeah. I'll be back, I need to moderate." Mark didn't know much about Kouya due to both not having the same group of friends, but from what Rey had told him, he was... A heartless bastard and usually brought destruction with him in the way Keith did, only he did it on purpose and more often. At least he seemed to have an aversion to hurting Rey.

The Russian turned to leave, continuing his rapidly worrying conversation, and as he slipped out the door one could even hear something about a kill count.

Well, that's a problem, Keith thought with a purse of his lips as he'd watched the two. If he can't have Issac arrested for sexual harassment, then he was going to have to kill him himself. But even then, that was going to be troublesome. He'll need to have to actually exert effort and he didn't really like that idea of that since he had deadlines to catch.

"A good couple?" Keith asked. His brow twitched in annoyance at that and he'd let out a heavy sigh. Mark only gave Keith an amused look as he continued to nuzzle the side of his lover's head. "I agree," Mark said with a grin, "It'll be nice to see you with someone, too, Keith. Even if you aren't looking for one." Blinking for a moment when he felt and saw his lover detach himself from him, he gave a little pout but shoved his hands into his pockets while he watched him. Keith didn't bother watching, though. He went to the kitchen to get himself a refill of his water.

She? Mark thought as he frowned a little and watched his lover until the phone call ended. Just as he was about to open his mouth to speak, he let it shut while he nodded towards his lover's way. "All right. Just... take care." He managed to catch the smaller male's lips for a kiss and made a face. Kouya. He didn't know why. Even though he didn't know much about the guy, he hated the sound of that name especially after his lover had associated that name with the words 'a heartless bastard' and 'destruction'.

"Wonder what that bastard did now," Mark grumbled to himself. Keith only raised his brows a bit at that but he didn't bother having his best friend tell him what was wrong. When it didn't concern him, it was not his problem at all.

At least, he didn't think it'd be his problem any time soon.

About an hour or two later, Mark was still seated on the couch looking rather nervous while Keith went back out from the kitchen. There was a look of irritation on his face as he sighed. "I'm out of beer." Mark blinked and turned to look at his best friend before he'd smiled slightly. "I'll go get you some," he offered, not really wanting to stay in the house any longer. He needed to do something, at least. "I'll come," Keith said and gave the male a look to not say anything as he grabbed his keys and his jacket before heading out with the other.

Out on the street, the wind was biting cold, telling winter was coming with its crisp chill. Few were outside, mostly content to ride buses and the like instead of walking. However, Keith would collide with something that barely reached his upper stomach.

"Kya!" The thing squeaked, and if he looked down he would see a small girl with long golden locks in tight curls cascading around her rosy face, large brown eyes staring up at him as her fuzzy pink mittens pulled her fluffy coat about her tighter. "...Ah...! Its you!" She smiled, clapping her hands together and bouncing on her heels. "Yes, I was right! Come, come!" She grasped his hand with both of hers before looking to Mark. "Excuse me, I'll borrow your friend for a moment!"

And then she dragged him way with surprising strength no child should have. "Come, come!" She managed to drag him all the way to a vacant bus stop nearby, where there was a bench. "I need to tell you, its important! Very, very important!" She was adorable but something about her was different, as if the person wasn't actually a child.

"You, you're Keith Wright, right? I'm a fortune teller but you don't believe me anyway, and you're about to walk away but you really shouldn't because a car's going to crash where you'd be and you'll die, and then things wouldn't be good but hear me out please?" She asked, all in one breath. She couldn'tve been older than 12 years old.

Keith grumbled under his breath at the cold biting into his skin. He hated the cold as much as he hated the heat. "You should've told me it was this cold now," he told Mark in an annoyed tone before he'd sighed at Mark only grinning sheepishly at him.

The writer's eyes widened a little at something or someone, for that matter, bumping into him. He'd stumbled back but he'd easily caught his balance. The squeaking little girl, though, was not so lucky. Just as he was about to tell her to watch where she was going, his mouth suddenly was zipped the moment she'd spoken. That, and he didn't really have a say when she'd pulled him away from Mark. The look he gave the other was enough to have him go on towards the grocery.

When she was finally done dragging him, he pursed his lips a little at her mentioning his name. He didn't remember telling her his name, that was for sure. But, when he'd heard that she was a 'fortune teller', his mind easily pieced everything together. At least, his mind pieced together the information as to how she knew his name.

"Now, that's just... absurd. Do you even know how to breathe, brat?"

"Do you even know Ingrid is very lonely? Very lonely, you guys should talk sometime, imaginary friends never really imaginary and don't disappear, you know." She smiled up at him knowingly. "Anyway, there's important stuff you need to know, but you'll remember it when you need to, I guess."

She grasped one of his hands in both of hers again, smile suddenly something one would see on someone older and far wiser. "Three days from now, life will move extremely fast with occasional slows and show no signs of stopping until the dragon falls, but that will be a very long time, and a lot of disasters will happen, but you brought them on yourself for giving into the rage. Your strength hurts people and you can try and say you don't like people but that's just your defenses, and that strength, if unchecked, will kill someone.... Even if that person deserves it, the weight of that life will crush you, like your mother's dresser you destroyed when you were a child, eight years old, was it? That poor maid." She shook her head sadly, but still smiled.

"Oh, yes, and the most important bit of all..." And the smile was gone, blue eyes suddenly darker and deeper than the oceans, locked with his. "Don't trust him when he smiles and the king always lies because she never keeps a promise, her pride is her failing, as always." And she suddenly laughed, suddenly cheerful again. "Of course this sounds jibberish to you but that's how these things go, I'm afraid, I'd be breaking some rather serious rules if I told you the full meanings. Besides, its no fun if you don't learn it yourself. My advice, in all honesty, is to try and stay your hand, especially towards the people with good intentions. Abuse your friends anymore and they'll stop coming, you know."

She then released his hand, standing up. "Well, that's all for now~! If you need me, Ingrid knows how to get to me!" She ran a few paces before pausing and spinning on her heel. "Oh! Well, this would be a minor break in the rules but the cosmos won't mind too much... You and Issac will be getting to know each other in the biblical sense about a week from now. Have fun~!"

And then she ran off, golden curls bouncing as she disappeared around a corner. If Keith went back to where Mark was, he would see the smothering remains of a car, which had run into the grocery store Mark had been in. Fortunately, no one had been hurt sans the man driving the car.

---

What. A. Mess.

Issac stared with a raised brow at the state the apartment was in, closing the door behind him. Feathers were everywhere, and pillows were ripped... Good lord! Rey hadn't been exaggerating. Good thing Francetta was here. He watched as she immediately went to work cleaning, OCD causing her eye to twitch as she beheld the terrible aftermath.

"Sir, please take a seat as I take care of this." She motioned to the couch as she began picking the place up. Issac did as told, lying on the couch like he owned it, sighing before something caught his eye. He picked it up and looked through it, realizing it was a manuscript. He began to read idly for the next hour, until Francetta tapped his shoulder. "Sir, I'm finished." He blinked and looked about the room. Cleaner than it had certainly seen in days, he bet, and smiled up at the brunette. "Thanks, Frannie~! I'll pay you extra for it." She nodded and left the writer's home, and Issac continued reading.

So far, he was actually... Pretty disappointed. He supposed all that romantic dribble left poor Keith without much ability to put together a decent mystery. He already knew it was Jameson who did it- The clues were glaringly obvious and he hated how flat this Maria character was, when she had so much potential.

He frowned. Maybe he wasn't as good as an author as he thought, although many did say he was too hard on people.

Keith was stunned. How the hell did she know... Ingrid? His eyes had widened and he stared at her like she'd grown another head. When he'd seen her smile, he snapped out of his trance and grunted in irritation. He supposed he could trust this woman. She seemed to know a lot of things about him, things he didn't even share to anyone at all.

But, of course, like any other normal being, he was at a loss of words as he tried to register the puzzle she gave him. When none came to mind, he just tacked it into his head and pursed his lips as he'd frowned the moment she'd said something about a blame that was supposedly his. He had, indeed, felt pity for that maid but he thought it was for the better since she never did much around the house. She was one of those leeches, if he could put it that way - one who only cared about is money. Why bother working when everyone else would do the job for her, she'd told him one day.

"They won't stop coming," he told her as he'd made a face. He watched her walk away and just when he'd thought he'd be free, he found himself blinking yet again when she'd started speaking again . This time, it was about him and Issac getting to know... each... other? Did he hear right? Preposterous, he thought as he grunted again and went of to meet Mark in the grocery store. What surprised him, though, was the sight of the remains of what seemed to be a car. He blinked for the umpteenth time and frowned. So... she was partly telling the truth, anyway... I better find Mark.

In all honesty, Keith just wanted to go home.

About an hour or two later, the writer and Mark were heading home. Mark was thankfully not hurt and they'd found a grocery store about ten blocks away from the writer's place. It was a pain in the ass, true, but it isn't like they had a choice. They couldn't exactly buy from a grocery store that was dealing with a car that crashed into them. "Remind me to only come out during the weekends when everyone's at work," he told Mark who'd only laughed at that. The man opened the door for him and his best friend before he'd blinked in surprise at the sight of Issac in the living room.

Keith was horrified, on the other hand.

"What... are you doing here?" Keith asked with wide eyes as he scowled, "How the hell did you know where I-" One look at Mark was enough to tell him the answer to his question. He sighed in exhaustion and shut the door behind him before he'd handed Mark the paper bags.

"I'll be in my room." With that, he left for his room and shut it behind him.