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[harmsdealer]

I will get back on Kei soon but I'll be hanging out at my new multimuse for a while! ➜ @etherdwellers

[harmsdealer]

Low on threads here so would anyone perhaps be interested in an itty-bitty starter?

[harmsdealer]

walks in purple, at dusk film, september 2014

[harmsdealer]

[harmsdealer]

it seems they've reached a checkpoint in their journey. kei doesn't bother asking questions; he doubts akina would give him straight answers. instead he grins stubbornly, staring straight ahead. ❛ i'm incredibly polite. but don't you know respect is earned? i'm just trying to treat you the same way you treat me, mori. ❜

still, he feels... not guilty, because he genuinely doesn't care if akina goes home and writes mean things about him in her diary after this. but he's being unfair. things aren't as easy for her because his daddy is still around: that's simply a fact of the world, like humans need oxygen to live. ❛ i guess there's something admirable about the way you live. you're like a stray cat. it must be nice to be that free. ❜

 a loud bark of laughter leaves her all of a sudden , the moment he decides to mention her job again ; not a specific one , she was good at mathematics and her parents thought she'd have the best job . . . but she wasn't paying attention to anything other than the haunted tape . ❛ you're starting to get on my nerves . ❜ without turning to face him , with a deeper and quieter voice . akina stops near a yellow car , old and heavy , putting one hand on the ceiling as she looks around . the driver should be here by now , a deep breath taken , she busies herself with the jacket that she has wrapped around her hips . it'll be colder up there , probably . silent , crossing her arms over her chest as she stares at the road they were waiting for the driver to arrive . though soon , she gives him a quiet snort . ❛ being rich doesn't give you everything . manners , for example . ❜

[harmsdealer]

Ah. That question would've struck fear into Kei's heart had they been in Tokyo. But his indiscretions are not quite the big deal in New York that they were back home—so he pushes down the knee-jerk impulse to childishly snatch the candy away from her, like it would make up for confronting him with an awkward question. Unless she's really into corporate scandals on another continent, she probably knows him from...

"The Red Lantern Club?" It's the bar he bought downtown, wherein he occasionally attempts to recoup his investment by drowning his sorrows. "Or—were you in the café nearby earlier? The little Belgian place on Lafayette. I like it for breakfast." His tone skews wry. "They'd be horrified to know I'm considering buying chocolate from a machine. Don't tell on me." / @redhead-reporter

º ✧ 。a bite sized little STARTER for @harmsdealer !

"Oh my gosh, thank you. I would've been here all day fighting with this stupid thing - you're my HERO." MJ beamed as she knelt down to retrieve her candy bar from the bottom of the courthouse's vending machine. A machine that had been determined NOT to give her the sugar kick she'd paid for, no matter how many times she mashed the buttons in frustration, until the guy had strolled over and given it a strong SMACK. But as she straightened up again, taking in her valiant savior for the first time? MJ's grin of victory over the machine faded into a FROWN of confusion.

"Sorry ... you must get this all the time, but do I KNOW you from somewhere? Your face is just so familiar."

[harmsdealer]

@tartt9 / Of course, Kei had expected to hear some mention of Roy Kent peppered in there, maybe sandwiched between lip service to Terry or Lampard—or even the Special One. After all, it's tricky to find recent coverage of Tartt that doesn't involve Kent in some way. It must be good for ticket sales, this public image they contrive together: the oracle and his dazzling apprentice. But what Tartt says is so single-minded that Kei thinks the zealotry can only be genuine.

What a strange club. What a bizarre way to run a business. Everyone here seems to mean what they say, and it takes Kei by surprise when he hears laughter leaving his own mouth.

Few things prompt him to laugh when he doesn't plan to; it's even rarer the sound is wrenched from him with any authenticity. This time, it isn't unkind, but it's less polished than he would've preferred. He presses a fist sheepishly to his mouth, like he's following up on a bad cough instead of trying to obscure a smile.

"That's," he says, then pauses, looking for any word that isn't the first which springs to mind. He fails to find anything more suitable. "That's sweet. I thought it was fantastic marketing, but now I can see it—the awestruck little kid glued to the television. Lucky it worked out for that kid, too, because you know what they say about meeting your heroes."

An implication lurks behind his tone that he's talking from experience, but he pauses on the cusp of elaborating. Offering anything like a personal story could place him at the mercy of search engines: Kanacorp plus fencing equals only Keiichiro. Kei doesn't expect Tartt cares enough to look him up, though, and even if he does—well, whatever. The man who is obviously a corporate agent happens to be the son of another, larger corporate agent: hardly the plot twist of the century.

There will be no cartoonishly evil scandals to find either, though boats are the least deadly of Kanacorp's offerings. That distinction goes to the war machines. But they're such a distant part of the company that Kei's presence here is calculated: how precious can a billion-pound club really get about the brands on its Away strips?

"See, I used to fence," he says, miming a rather restrained lunge. It's a good thing for the nearby trophy case that his sword is imaginary. "I met a retired Olympian once at a tournament—Délio Bastos, someone I really admired—and when I told him that, he called my footwork grotesquely stiff."

The glint in Kei's eye suggests he holds the memory fondly. Something which had devastated him at the time now serves a purpose as an anecdote, which is of much greater utility to him than a measly human connection could've been. Still, he realises the analogy doesn't quite fit.

"But it's a brave choice, isn't it? If someone had offered me the chance to compete beside him when he was active—I'd have sooner faked my own death." His next thought is uttered like it should be a joke, but comes out a little too pointed. There must be something of the cutthroat tradition of sport still lurking here, he thinks. "How confident are you he'll still be cheering you on when you smash all his records?"

@harmsdealer // Kei's right - Jamie's never heard of Kanacorp, but he isn't particularly invested in freight of any kind, let alone maritime. Which... he thinks... has something to do with boats. Jamie does not like boats. They freak him out. He knows what happened to the Titanic. Just the thought of putting himself on a boat hours away from land is enough to send shivers down his spine. The people who spend their lives working on boats are braver than Jamie is. He shakes his head a little bit, both confirming he's never heard of the company and physically shaking the thoughts from his mind - no more thinking about boats when he's trying to have a conversation. "Right, are you lot tryin' t'replace Bantr as the shirt sponsor, then? Or are y'goin' for the sleeve spot? Or the training gear?" Richmond's got Bantr on both their shirts and their training kits, so Jamie and all of his advertising mind knows they're getting more promotion than other shirt sponsors in the Prem.

Inquiring future shirt sponsors must know about Richmond's history with shirt sponsorship, though - Mannion's whole ownership [ or at least as far back as Jamie can remember ], they played with DubaiAir on their chests. Then, Sam did a little digging, uncovered DubaiAir's unethical business practices, their pollution of Nigerian land, and that led to a very public protest during the first match since Jamie's departure from and return to Richmond. Not the first time Sam Obisanya stole Jamie's thunder, and it certainly won't be the last - Sam is an exceptional player, and an exceptional man. Jamie really looks up to him. All that to say... if Kanacorp's got skeletons in their closet, the Richmond lads'll find a way to get rid of them just like they got rid of DubaiAir.

Jamie's always been quite good at reading people [ he's had to be, it's been a survival mechanism since he was nine ] but this man... this man is difficult for Jamie to get a read on. There's something more to him than he's letting on. Or maybe that's just Jamie's natural distrust for an unknown man in a suit. Jamie may be one of the highest paid players in the Premier League, but he'll never forget where he came from. He's not about to express that uncertainty, but he will carry it with him; he won't trust this man fully.

"Aw, you researched me?" he asks, raising a hand to the badge on his chest. "I'm flattered." Of course Kei researched him; anyone looking to settle a sponsorship deal with Richmond would have to do the bare minimum of looking into their players. Even someone who did no research into Richmond but had any amount of knowledge into the Premier League would know of Jamie Tartt as Richmond's starboy. He lets himself laugh, his eyes crinkling up a bit as his hand drops from his chest. "No, yeah, I didn't," he responds with a shake of his head. "Grew up in City's Academy, never lived in London before I played here m'loan year."

The question is a fair one for someone who has researched him but hasn't truly engaged with him before. It's not like Jamie has Roy Kent supporter in his Twitter bio or anything. It brings a sheepish grin to his face even now, nearly eight years after his debut with City. He can and will talk about Roy's career for ages, if given the opportunity, but he has to hold himself back. Nobody wants to hear all that. "I loved watching Roy Kent play when I were a kid. Even before City's academy wanted me, I watched Roy Kent play in Chelsea blue and it just - it fucking blew my mind, y'get me? He might be the greatest English midfielder of his generation, and I was lucky enough t'get t'watch 'im play m'whole childhood. A real thing of beauty, his play was." Alright, Jamie, enough.

"When Roy left Chelsea, I was already playin' for City proper, and he came here, and I got the option t'play with 'im for my loan year... we saw how well that went," Jamie laughs at his own naivety what feels like a lifetime ago but was a mere three years prior. "But he'n me are on good terms now." One would fucking hope a player and his gaffer were on good terms. But Jamie truly is on good terms with Roy; there are enough images of the two of them training together at odd hours across the internet.

"Think I might've rambled past your answer, though - I weren't exactly a Chelsea supporter - more of a Roy Kent supporter, y'get me?" His heart was at Stamford Bridge, that wasn't a lie. It was just on the sleeve of a man who wore a 6 on his back.

[harmsdealer]

edits which force you to behold kei [7/??]

[harmsdealer]

though kei rolls his eyes in preparation to snap back — screw you, reimburse me for the coffee — it isn't from a place of real malice. akina's grim assessment of his future is probably correct. perhaps he's destined to wed whoever his parents pick for him, the daughter of one of his father's tennis buddies, married off for status like they're in a feudal-era movie. but he doesn't have time to say anything — which is probably for the best. he'd rather not have to admit akina might be right about something.

❛ ikuma, ❜ he repeats, testing the name on his tongue, rubbing a thumb along the bottom of the photograph. his brow furrows in thought. ❛ i can't say it rings a bell, but to tell you the truth, i didn't pay much attention in hiromi's classes. ❜ kei lifts the article, as though holding the page a little closer to the light will jog his memory. ❛ this kid kind of looks like you, mori. are they your long-lost cousins or something? ❜

 ❛ we're even then because you always sound like my dad . he liked you . ❜ ' he will be a great man one day , akina , can you bring him to meet anita ? ' she lets her fist rest under her chin , tapping one long index finger on her cheek . soon , she starts to smile . ❛ i pity the boring girl you're going to find in your business and marry , if you wanna drown in this shit . ❜

 shit , nothing better comes to her mind because it's been all shit since it started . akina didn't have time to grieve or miss anyone after they died , no , she still feels a painful twist in her chest and throat whenever someone mentions her sister . upper half turns aside to reach for her bag again , ready to spill the newspapers on the table between them after gently pushing the plates and cups away . ❛ do you know doctor ikuma ? i think hiromi sensei once mentioned him . our literature teacher , in high school , you remember ? ❜ she places the picture in front of him ; professor ikuma , a beautiful woman , and a little girl with long black hair akin to akina's .

[harmsdealer]

@magicaemaxima / Kei was unfamiliar with this Potatohead, but didn't like the sound of how that gentleman had met his end. So he simply offered a pleasant smile, figuring that if Dionysia felt comfortable divulging her secrets, she'd feel just as comfortable wiping Kei off the map at the first hint he might use them against her.

"So you're a hustler. I like it. All that power and you still have a work ethic." He angled his head thoughtfully. "Because the work is its own reward, right?"

He understood the notion. Back home, he'd never wanted for anything yet put long hours in at the office all the same. His drive to keep busy had not depleted since leaving. Without several plates spinning, he wouldn't know what to do with himself.

"And it sounds like you've been around for a while." His smile flattened with knowing. "I may not look it, but so have I. It's... refreshing. To know I'm not the only one in this leg of the solar system making hundred-year plans for their corporate moves."

"I think I acted perfectly reasonable. I thought you might pose a threat to me, I devised a test to prove otherwise. Besides, it's not like you were harmed. I mean truly, what I could've done is something like.... temporarily separate your limbs and head from your body to incapacitate you. Just pop them off like Mr. Potato Head. But you haven't displeased me so far, so I'm trying to be nice."

As for the subject of her wealth, she chuckled. "No, although that's always an option, I suppose. At first, I cast a fortune spell on myself, everything was going right and fortunate in my life for a decade or so, but then that got incredibly predictable and boring, because no matter what I did, I would never fail, nothing ever went wrong, nothing was ever exciting anymore, so I blew all of that money and started again from scratch. I then formulated a plan. I went to university back when tuition was basically two nickels, got a business degree, used magic to convince my way through some things, bought a few businesses, put fortune spells specifically on the businesses rather than myself, watched them boom, used the money to buy more businesses, lather, rinse, repeat, and now with several centuries of doing that, I just collect checks, basically. Every 80 or 90 years or so I'll take out all of my money from bank accounts and put it in safes, reset, wipe some memories of me and proof of my existence, and start again, but now starting with all the money of the previous 80 or 90 years. It's very lucrative." @harmsdealer

[harmsdealer]

[ 🐺 ] does your muse have trouble relying on others? why or why not?

[ 👶 ] is your muse good with kids, or do they prefer to avoid them?

[ 🍔 ] what is your muse’s favourite food? is there a reason why they like it so much?

headcanon meme.

does your muse have trouble relying on others? why or why not?

Professionally—sure. If he knows someone is competent, and has no reason to suspect they won't do the work, he's able to delegate. Personally is a different matter: he can rely on others if they fit the same criteria (can get whatever the task at hand is done, and are disincentivised to stab him in the back) but he doesn't like to if he can help it. This is purely because he's been raised in a turbo-capitalist hellscape in which anyone is liable to be a Machievellian fuck, and he fundamentally doesn't believe people can care about other people without something in it for themselves.

is your muse good with kids, or do they prefer to avoid them?

Kei has ample babysitting experience with nieces and nephews. He may not strictly be the "fun" uncle but he's certainly the "chill" uncle. Children like him, and, as flexible as his morals can be, he thinks there's a special place in Yomi for those who hurt kids.

He's ambivalent about having any (unless he's in a relationship with someone who wants children, and in his obsessive phase he decides that he simply must give them a family). But ultimately, he probably won't have children of his own. (Mainverse, he can't breed with humans anyway, which is probably for the best.)

what is your muse’s favourite food? is there a reason why they like it so much?

Mainverse, he hates food. Modern Teitans derive their nutrients from pills, so he resents that he has to nourish himself from physical food again on Earth. He doesn't eat often precisely because he's weaning himself onto the idea of subsisting on meals he doesn't get from a bottle, and has been horrified to learn he has a sweet tooth.

Human Kei is still not a big eater, mostly because he never has time, but he's much more open about his penchant for sweets. (If in doubt about gifts, everyone knows it's a safe bet to get him chocolates.) He tends to have a box of pocky or kit-kat bars on his person in the same way a smoker always makes sure to have a pack.

[harmsdealer]

Chiesa del Gesù by ichmiles.

[harmsdealer]

it takes kei a second to make a snap judgement of the woman before him. while he requires more data to complete a full assessment, he feels confident enough to determine one thing: too tense to eat around. even if he did order pancakes, he'd never enjoy them with her general twitchiness bringing the mood down.

so he puts his own menu away while lydia begins to peruse her own, and offers what he intends to be a reassuring smile. admittedly, he doesn't put much effort into finessing it. there's little he can do to make what he's about to say any more palatable.

"to answer your questions in order—kei," he places a hand over his chest, "—i think i saw you briefly, during a drop-off for our mutual acquaintance's expansion—," a nod over his shoulder, "—and i'm here, among other things, to give you a gift." no playful gesture now, but he lowers his voice. "would you like to keep making small talk, or skip to the part where i offer you a gun?"

lydia takes her line of work very seriously; being alert to all changes is of the highest priority to her. so, when she meets with someone she'd assumed to be one of mike's guys and it turns out that he very much wasn't—well, unless mike decided to hire an overly formal gentleman that he neglected to mention. lydia's brows furrow, and she takes a seat after a beat of hesitation.

"um, i'm sure it's non-binding, if you'd like something within, uh, the confines of what could be considered breakfast... or without." her hands fidget and she looks at the man with cautious eyes, unsure of how to proceed.

"i'm sorry, have we met before? i don't believe i've formally introduced myself—though, you already know of me." cue a nervous laugh, picking up the menu in an attempt to make herself appear normal to any potential onlookers. "can i ask what this meeting is about...?"

[harmsdealer]

For just a flash, Kei twisted his mouth—half in displeasure, half in disbelief. "What is it about this planet that makes people act completely contrary to reason? If you wanted to know my intentions, you could've just asked. I've never hurt anybody…" He lifted a hand to mimic the scouting pledge, "…unless I really had to. Don't worry about fixing me up, either. My species bounces back just fine."

As if to prove his point, he leaned back in his seat, inhabiting the space around him with the same self-assuredness he'd displayed before. "But is this how you did it? Your wealth, I mean. Philosopher's stoned your way up by making gold out of rocks?" / @ladiesofsteel

Dionysia sighed. She supposed she owed it to him to try explaining and calming him down, as annoying as it was to do so.

"I wasn't "getting my kicks", Kei. You posed a threat to me. When I found out that my singing voice didn't work on you, I feared the possibility that the rest of my magic wouldn't work either. So I tested that theory, and now we both know what would happen if you decide to attack or threaten me. So, I feel secure again." she explained. "I can heal as well. In fact, I can heal absolutely anything. If you'd like, I can just as easily erase that single memory if you find your "existential crisis" to be too traumatic. Or, as an apology for the whole... marble thing, I can heal any other ailment you might have. I simply don't enjoy the thought of someone being able to potentially hurt me." @harmsdealer

[harmsdealer]

it was so much easier to be emotionally candid with someone when none of it was real. kei could be anyone's best friend right up until the transaction ended. but when he had to run through the whole carnival of speaking honestly, he faltered, like he faltered now. his gaze shifted to the papers on his desk, and he was quiet for a moment, carefully selecting his words. well. maybe not carefully enough.

❛right, okay. where's this coming from?❜ he looked borderline amused, smiling with one corner of his mouth. ❛do you think i keep letting you in here because i want to fuck you? give me some credit. i like you. you don't pretend to be something you're not, you're funny—❜ (maybe unintentionally.) ❛—and i consider you a friend.❜ he lifted a pen, tapping it against the table to punctuate the statement. ❛i expect nothing from you but your company.❜

 rounder edges are unexpected , unnecessary and unwanted because akina knows exactly how to deal with an angry kei but his slightly concerned tone only causes a weird twist in her guts . almost painful , unpleasant . like a kid who knows she won't cry because of a scraped knee but when her mom asks what happened , she does . maybe that's why she never cried about her bleeding wounds . a frown , she remembers kaneko telling her that she found a new boyfriend to kill , while referring to kei . as a joke , and akina didn't care about it . . . or so she thought . ❛ you know – i actually care about you . i don't want you to be in trouble . so like — don't ever start anything romantic with me . ❜ akina finds herself mumbling , an advice of some sort , an akina mori advice . ❛ they'd call you names . ugly names . ❜