more metal than appear

Cogs and Gears

Whirr. Ish. Whirr. Ish.

As they rushed through the underground sewers, the rhythmic wheeze of compressors and drag of metal joints echoed through Keith’s head, and he knew something was going to be replaced. After the night he’d had, that seemed inevitable. The lack of security at their target had been off-putting, but who needed turrets when you had Goliaths? Weaponized beasts designed to appear as tamed dire wolves, they were more metal than monster, if they’d ever even been alive. They were in vogue among the upper-crust who’d gotten tired of imported tigers. Sleek and well-trained, a mixture of magic and science, the most expensive had designer pelts. Keith hadn’t noticed. Keith had been more concerned about the metal teeth that had taken a chunk out of his left arm. His sleeve had been replaced with oil-stained ribbons. Keith limited movement in his left. Things were messy enough as it was.

This was going to be a set back. He’d been designed to required less down time between missions. Needing any was rare enough, that they might need to take his eyes today. The lenses clicked and twitched whenever they recorded, a sound that only ever echoed in the inside of his head. Keith made the assumption with all the inconvenience of someone buying an extra loaf of bread. Even though reviews were normally reserved for missions that had gone bad, they always had the option of taking his eyes. He hoped they didn’t. The air in the storage unit he was kept in was always stale.

It had been a messy fight, but their target was achieved with two bullets from a very specific gun. Whys were above his pay-grade. Keith’s interests lay firmly in the whens and hows of this world.

Their check point was up ahead.

Without checking behind him to make sure he was still followed, he started climbing the service ladder that lead to the next leg of their escape route. They emerged on the other side in between two buildings. A strategically parked automobile blocked view of them from the main road. Its tinted windows would make them invisible from the outside. Keith took the driver’s seat. The moment his partner got in beside him, he locked the door.

“You hesitated.”

And for the first time since the first born of Congressman Li’s mistress went down, Keith tensed. This wasn’t a conversation that could be interrupted.

limitlessmonster  asked:

"Gimme, gimme, gimme!"

17. A basket full of dirty laundry

Of all the times for the washing machine to break, it had to be now. 

“Come on!” Kise slapped an open palm against the door to the washing machine. The metallic clang did nothing more than irritate his eardrums. It appeared the machine had a mind of its own and was finding numerous ways to get on his nerves. 

He eyed the heavy load that sat at his feet. There was no way he could afford not to wash his clothing. His jersey was in that pile. His basketball shorts too. He had a few outfits in there for a shoot the next day and that jacket. Kise pulled his fingers through his hair at the thought of that single piece of clothing. That jacket.

“Ugh!” He would have to call in a complaint to the landlord. Enough money came out of his pocket for this ritzy spread. He didn’t need the appliances crashing and burning, even if he did have the money to replace them. 

Reluctantly, and with more than a few grumbled profanities, he bundled the massive hill of clothing in a roll-along suitcase and sloppy zippered it halfway. There was only one person who would be up this late in the evening and willing to let him in to do something as mundane and domestic as a load of laundry.

“Aominecchi!” He slammed a fist against the door repeatedly. There was no rhythm to his knocking. Just the ceaseless pound of fist against wooden door. He heard the growl from inside and nearly knocked the ace in the face when the door suddenly sprang open. 

“Ah! Why didn’t you warn me you were opening the door?” Kise huffed, pushing his way past Aomine and dragging the heavy luggage behind him. 

“Wha–Ryouta, what if my parents had been home?" 

"They aren’t. You told me they were at a function tonight and they wouldn’t be home until tomorrow.”

Aomine frowned. “What the hell are you dragging in here?” He eyed the suitcase, skeptical gaze finally lifting to meet the expectant golden orbs with narrowed eyes. “Ryouta…”

“I just need to do a little laundry! That’s all.” He patted the top of the suitcase and heard the zipper slide down the side. “Or… maybe more than a little.” When Aomine’s gaze remained unconvinced, Kise added, “I promise I’m not running away from anything. You only have to deal with me until the washing and drying is done.”

Aomine palmed the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. This wasn’t the first time Kise had bounded over to his place to perform some menial task. The last time he showed up, he insisted that they make scrambled eggs together. Where the blonde got these outrageously stupid ideas was beyond his comprehension. Kise could have easily made the eggs in his own kitchen, but he claimed not to have the proper pan. And Aomine had trouble saying no when Kise had a “valid” excuse. 

He sighed. “Get it over with then.” He waved in the general direction of the washer and dryer, knowing Kise didn’t need the directions. He had been in the house enough to find his way around. 

Kise beamed and tugged on the handle, but the suitcase stuttered against the carpet and only budged an inch or so. “Aaayyy, be nice, suitcase!” He kicked at the back and the a sleeve slipped out of the side. 

Aomine darted forward and pushed the back of the suitcase forward. “Be careful, baka. Or all your clothes are going to spill all over the damn  place.” His fingers traced the zipper until he found the pull and tugged it upward. He was about to tuck the sleeve in with the other clothing when the familiar combination of colors caught his eye. He grabbed at the sleeve and tugged, but the suitcase was so full it did nothing more than groan softly in response. 

“Ah! What are you doing, Aominecchi? Don’t do that! You just said it was gonna spill." 

"Ryouta… what the fuck is this?”

Kise froze when he saw the sleeve in Aomine’s grasp. “Uh…”

“Is this my jack–”

“You left it at my house, baka! I was gonna wash it for you!”

“Why? I can wash it myself. Just let me get it out.’

"No!” Kise slapped Aomine’s hand and gave the suitcase one sharp tug. “I can wash it. It’s fine. I’m doing laundry anyway, so I might as well. ”

Aomine’s eyes narrowed. Kise was being rather defensive. A dark brow rose as he took a single step forward. “What’s wrong with it? Why can’t I just take it?”

“Cause it’s dirty!’ 

"It’s dirty? What did you–”

“You wore it after practice, or after a game… I don’t remember. It’s gross. And smelly. Its covered in sweat and it smells like you.”

Aomine paused midstep and stared. “It…. smells like–”

"Yes! So its dirty. Cause you’re dirty. Cause i–” Kise slapped a hand over his mouth and turned away, cheeks colored a deep crimson as he pulled the suitcase into the next room before Aomine could grab at the jacket sleeve again. 

He left Aomine with his jaw to the floor, staring at the space the blonde stood only moments before. Regaining his composure, he stepped forward and lowered his voice to a husky purr. “Ryouta…”

Kise flinched and ignored him as he kicked open the door to the washing machine and hurriedly threw armful after armful inside. 

“You don’t have to find my scent on a jacket, baka." 

"I’m doing laundry, Aominecchi. Back up." 

"I mean, if you can get over here to do laundry, what’s stopping you from–”

Kise flung himself around and pressed his hands over Aomine’s mouth. “Shut up, baka!” He could feel the smirk form beneath his hands. “Shut up or I’ll–”

Aomine reached forward and switched on the machine. It shook and grumbled and the water started flowing, nearly drowning out all other sounds in the room. He pushed forward until Kise’s back hit the edge of the machine. Kise’s arms fell to his side and he opened his mouth to protest when a dark finger pressed against his lips. “We have 30 minutes until this load is done.” Golden eyes darted to the countdown on the face of the machine. “30 minutes, Ryouta. And you can show me what you did with that jacket of mine.” 

Zero Suit Samus: Analyzed!

Hey all! GuyWithTheFace here, with my first official article as part of the blog! I’m very excited to be part of this, and I’ll start off by discussing my old main, who was just announced to be returning in Tuesday’s direct!

Zero Suit Samus is returning in her own slot, and I think I speak for everyone who plays her when I say I couldn’t be happier! No longer will our favorite bounty hunter have to avoid the Smash Ball!

Is that a read more I see?  It is!

Keep reading