undergrounds | The June Detective [Open]

A: Everyone's a critic

The only negative thing about his promotion was that Heiji really only had a select few people he could even tell about it -- mention you weren't really a human in casual conversation, see how long till you ended up under psychiatric evaluation. Still, Heiji could hardly conceal his good mood. Thus he had rewarded himself with the latest moderately detective-themed airplane novel by a decent writer that he could find, and was rapidly making his way through it on the train, in the park, wherever.

"I dunno. I can understand likin' a writer a lot. I don't see why anyone would commit murder because of it, though. Ain't that goin' a little too far?"

B: I've just had a little fae experience

Provided they slipped through just the right set of trees, someone might just find the rest of London fade away -- the noise of traffic, the noise of the crowd. Dense forest would press in from all sides, but a stone walkway would lead up below a long row of brightly-painted red wooden gates of some ceremonial significance.

At the top of the stone steps: a small shrine, with two guardian fox statues on either side. How curious...

C Other! Open to suggestions and such; Heiji will also just be outright barging into the personal space of whoever he's friendly with and starting up conversations during the month, so that's a thing, too.

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Wait, what? That is the exact amount of weird to get him to look up from his paper and - oh God it's a fae. He didn't ask for this aren't they supposed to avoid outcasts anyway wait no he started the conversation this time shit-

While the panic reigns internally, the expressions and response are a literal monotone, "Don't remember shoving Stiles into a closet."

This is not, in fact, a denial. Hashtag inability to lie.

Hmm. Did Willard not know Stiles's name? Had he been sauced at the time? Or did he shove so many billions of dudes into closets that he just didn't remember Stiles's case in particular?

Whatever the case, there was only one guy at the Redbright party that matched Stiles's description. Heiji moved seats so that he was across from Willard. "Well, he sure remembers you. Said you seemed pretty chill at first, but then ya flipped out."

But he doesn't flip out. Unless there's heresy involved which means the problem is solved by murder and Stiles being shoved in a closet would actually be a method of self-restraint, but this is entirely hypothetical of course because everything past meeting Stiles is a haze of nothing.

It's just another black spot in memory and nothing is concerning about it at all, people need to stop prying about it.

"I still don't remember that." An odd choice of words. Wouldn't someone say they don't know, but the option is cut off with. "Can we not talk about this. I thought it was a scandal to talk to me."

"So it's true." Willard was an outcast. Which meant that Heiji really shouldn't be talking to him. Still, he was curious. Why did he keep saying he didn't remember? Where was he going? Why did he read mystery novels? How had he gotten himself thrown out? Why had he shoved Stiles into a closet?

Okay, maybe the last one wasn't such a big mystery. But clearly, a billion other questions.

Then: "I never actually met anyone like you. But I guess it's too late to ignore ya now." After all, he'd already talked to Willard. Oops.

There's a short 'nn' sound, entirely dismissing, but confirming the assumption was right. There. Warning gave. Now he'll bug off like every other fae in existence and he can finish his paper and wait he's still talking?

This never happens. Maybe he isn't concerned? Which is stupid, so very foolish, and the pointed eye contact is far too intense with that weird gold shade. "The Court doesn't know yet. That means you're late. So back off."

Now can be the exact moment Heiji realizes why he's an asshole. No need to get someone thrown out just for talking to him. Even better when it can't be pinNed as their fault. Being an outcast sucks.

No one else deserves that.

Heiji cocked his head slightly to the side as he listened to Willard; for once, his usual easy social camouflage slipped a bit and something about the way he watched the man across from him more closely resembled the stare of some nocturnal animal than it did someone who'd happened to run into a minor acquaintance.

Then he shrugged, and everything was normal again. "Whatever. You need a girlfriend or something, dude." He stood as the train pulled into the next station, waiting with the other passengers to disembark. Just as he did so, however, he said something -- probably just a parting jab. "I'd check the personals. Plenty of lonely weirdos in there."

The doors closed behind him. Warning received. However, should Willard choose to look, there would be an unusual personals ad in the paper he'd been reading for the next few days. Seemingly your usual cryptic account of a missed encounter, it was actually a carefully constructed code based on the book Heiji had been reading on the train, which translated to a single cell phone number.

Well. If Willard had the skills to decode it.

The June Detective [Open]

wears it proudly forever

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