Momentum

[hostclubmommy.livejournal.com]

Characters: Kyouya [hostclubmommy] and Sefton [polarisation]
Location: The Ootori Group's Tropical Aqua Garden. An indoor pool area!
Time: Vaguely during the Tarot Card plot.
Summary: Sefton bumps into Kyouya.
Warnings: These Air Treks are used by professionals. Do not try these speeds at home. Keep out of reach of children and small pineapples.



Kyouya adjusted his glasses and surveyed the gardens. So far, everything had been going well. They'd removed the more dangerous reptilians and moved all the switches away from places where idiots with water guns might hit them. If there was one thing Kyouya's friends could do as no one else could, it was demonstrate how nothing is ever fool-proof. Their creative stupidity was boundless and ideal for such tests as these.

But now that they had made their adjustments, everything seemed fine. The garden would be ready for opening in under a month and Kyouya would have performed admirably in this little test handed out by his father.

So, Kyouya made a final note in his laptop before standing up, drinking the last of his lemonade, and heading out towards the exit. He wasn't smiling, of course. There was no one to smile for.

Comments

[polarization]

"Tokyo?" Sefton repeated, almost dumbly. That would somewhat (somehow) explain why someone who was obviously Japanese was hanging around such a small, American town. It wouldn't explain, however, how Kyouya could actually be in another country and not know. He then shook his head and corrected, "It's Newport, Kentucky. In America."

Before he could say or do anything else, like run away from the rapidly deteriorating situation, something appeared and stuck itself inside his head. Now? It was happening now of all times?

Ruthlessness and cynicism in the name of profit; ever accumulating things of merit, profit and value; protecting what is valued; valuing things close to him, whatever they may be; values for idealism hidden behind everything else, the cunning face, the guiltless actions.

The feeling faded, but Sefton knew by now what would come immediately after and was helpless to stop it. A room, large and mostly unoccupied. A table, covered in games of cunning and profit—chess; cards. Beyond that, a piano, surrounded by faces, some actually familiar to him (while some not). As always, everything is important... so, so important.

The image faded, and Sefton reached out for the wall to lean against. His balance was especially tricky thanks to the skates on his feet, and he would much rather not put too much pressure on the motors and careen right into Kyouya for a second time in the same day.