You Reject My Advances and Desperate Pleas [February 14]

[dead_black_eyes]

WHO: Lazarus Lawliet and YOU
WHEN: That loviest of days, February 14, pretty much all day
WHERE: Espresso Yourself
WHAT: Someone higher up on the management ladder saw an ironic valentine and thought it would be awesome if baristas handed out hand-made ones to customers on V-Day. As the shop's resident "writer," L was given some scissors and a magazine and tasked with this. The result... well. Tag this, if you really want to see the result.
WARNINGS: L would rather be detectiving. L's grasps on irony, humor, romance, and valentines are also tenuous at best, especially together. This could get dark.



Since hiring L, Espresso Yourself had been a very accommodating employer. Equal opportunity and largely catering to college-aged hipsters, their customer base and employees consisted predominantly of Millennials, and every stereotype had softly saturated much of the shop's attitude toward the generation. L had enjoyed leaning on crutches in the past, finding ways to pardon himself from the ordeals of living life and interacting with other human beings. He had used and abused diagnoses and disadvantages for this purpose, but Espresso Yourself, as a business, seemed determined not only to accommodate his needs, but to boost his self-esteem by making him feel important and necessary.

A young woman in a higher management position had beckoned him aside the day before, offering him an "important project" to keep such a "talented writer" busy. Following his most recent echoes, L thought he knew what actually comprised an "important project," but it had been awhile since his last echo, and it was beginning to frustrate him. He'd been a child-saver, a detective, and he'd been very good at what he did, and every day another pulse didn't occur was a day he was being denied and held hostage by his own life.

Excitedly, the woman had handed him a stack of magazines, some glue, some construction paper, and a pair of blunted safety scissors, explaining the project. Her over-bright eyes and too-wide smile told L that she knew about him, and had therefore dismissed him on an unforgivable level. The condescension was newly unacceptable to a man who knew that his preincarnation had been great, and he resolved to make the project uniquely his own.

Behind the counter, he has a stack of them next to the cash register. They resemble ransom notes more than valentines, but at least his standard look of utter contempt is dialed back a bit. You might actually feel like you can approach the counter today.

Comments

[dead_black_eyes]

"More than decent. A hero," L stressed. It didn't feel as much like bragging, since it was technically someone else... but he felt just as good as if he was talking about himself.

[shiromadoushi]

"Better to be decent. Heroes can be self centered jerkoffs who just happen to be on the right side of things," Bakura returned with a grin.

[dead_black_eyes]

"That sounds really odd coming from you. I hope you recognize the irony."

[shiromadoushi]

The teen chuckled. "Saying I'm actually on the right side of things too? Rare day, today!"

[dead_black_eyes]

"...more that you're a self-centered jerkoff who is advising against it, but sure. That works too."

[shiromadoushi]

"Like I ever claim to be anything else," Bakura grinned.

[dead_black_eyes]

"To your credit, you don't... but you criticized it just now and said that it's better to be something else. What exactly's stopping you?"

[shiromadoushi]

"Arrogance~" Bakura replied blithely.

[dead_black_eyes]

"You admit that so readily. Don't most arrogant people think everyone else has a problem, but not them?"

[shiromadoushi]

"Are you saying that I don't?" Bakura smiled.

[dead_black_eyes]

"That you don't think that, or that you don't have a problem?"

[shiromadoushi]

"That I don't think that everyone else has a problem. Whether or not I have one doesn't really matter now does it?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Your problem's been established. So I guess it really doesn't matter..."

[shiromadoushi]

"Never does.

"So. The tea. You didn't overbrew it, did you?"

[dead_black_eyes]

L glanced back at the steeping tea.

"Probably," he answered, putting a lid on it and passing it over the counter. "You know what they say: strong tea, strong bones."

[shiromadoushi]

Bakura couldn't help make a face. "Who the hell says that? They gonna ding you if I make you redo it?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Oh. Maybe I'm thinking of a different saying," L said, pausing to chew his thumbnail. "Was it...? No, I really have no idea."

[shiromadoushi]

"...Does it matter? New tea. Get on it. You can have the over brewed one if you're such a fan..."

[dead_black_eyes]

"If you ask like that, I'll get you something, but it definitely won't be tea," L smirked.

[shiromadoushi]

"...if you're expecting me to ask nicely you're softer in the head than I thought..."

[dead_black_eyes]

"Strong tea, strong head, that must be it..."

[shiromadoushi]

"...just drink that one yourself. Idiot..." Bakura sighed, shaking his head. "Fucking hell, you're annoying..."

[dead_black_eyes]

"But it's your tea... are you sure you want to give it to me?"

[shiromadoushi]

"You fucking over brewed it, like I want it now?"

[dead_black_eyes]

"Thank you. That's very generous."

He paused, taking a sip.

"Delicious. Oh, it's still $2.11."