Post by chez on Aug 2, 2009 20:31:10 GMT -5
The city runs to a new beat now, and no one knows it better than Sanae Hanekoma.
When Shibuya’s lord comes to him, the barista is sprawled out on one of WildKat’s couches, reading. He doesn’t look up, and certainly doesn’t bow. This does not amuse his new ruler.
“This is my place,” Joshua tells him, and colorless fire whispers down his arms. “You answer to me now.”
Hanekoma quirks a brow at his novel.
The Composer’s aura goes harsher.
“Café’s closed,” he says, finally, and feels a god leave his presence.
Joshua has a long way still to go.
i love 100-word drabbles, I really do.
this is me playing with a take on the composer-producer relationship I've seen a lot, something kind of dark and unsteady, but I don't know if it's really my headcanon or not. -shrug-
GIVE ME SOME PROMPTS GAIZ I WANT TO WRITE MORE SANAE-AND-JOSH.