[rhea]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Hasani Serna

Today was a day off for Rhea. A day that, after all the shenanigans and the like she had been through, she was going to catch up on some sleep and generally relax, maybe pick up a book or read a paper or something like that. But no, her father, as he typically did, had to ruin everything. Not only did he barge into her room early that morning (something that she had repeatedly said was a bad idea), but also insisted that they go out shopping today. There were two reasons for that: either the pantry was bare because he disregarded her rationing (which was common), or he was going to goad her into buying another bottle of booze. He was yet again between jobs, and so everything was squarely on her shoulders. He could only be so lucky to have a daughter that was good at lying, cheating, and stealing her way through life. If only she could fling him off a bridge somewhere, maybe then she would be able to do more than just keep her head above water.

Knowing, despite her best efforts, she wouldn't be able to get out of this she threw on a dress and set out with him for the day. They spent some time in the market, and she had managed to secure a few good deals on fruits and vegetables, but things started to turn south once they made it to a more well-to-do part of town. She had stopped to look over a dress on display, the cogs in her head turning as she planned to make an effort to steal something like it later in the day. In the process of this she had to take her eyes off her father, who hobbled around on a cane despite barely being in his forties. The next thing she heard was hearing his shouting in Arabic, barely able to catch what he was saying as he shook his cane at some hero procession on the other side of the street. Springing into action best she could she darted over to his side as he barely stepped out into the street, hissing in his ear, "<You're embarrassing us both, get back before they find a reason to put you in jail!>" Between communicating in a language he definitely knew (his Japanese was the worst) and utilizing her quirk to the best of her ability, she was trying to placate him enough to not make such a scene. It didn't stop his next words in Arabic:

"<You fucked my wife, you bastard!>" Rhea was certain if anyone could understand him, she'd flat out die. She already wanted to because she at the very least understood him.

0 Victims

OWL

[Hasani Serna]

A N U B I S

THE JUDGEMENT HERO

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you want, sweetheart,” absentmindedly replied to whatever flavor-of-the-week model he was hooking up with that day when she asked if he would buy some designer dress for her from a store so pricey and high end, that it didn’t even have a sign out front. He used them for their bodies, they used him for his money. It was a symbiotic relationship until one of them, usually Hasani, got bored. Which Hasani was very close to being already. This one was particularly air-headed, which meant that while her thoughts didn’t give him a headache, but spending any time outside of a bed with her did.

“Put whatever she wants on my tab,” Hasani told the clerk. Then to his date for the day, “I need to step outside and take a call.” She nodded, but didn’t seem to care too much as she busied herself with looking through the wares and hassling the clerk now that she had been given free reign over the store.

Hasani took a deep breath when he exited the building. He didn’t need to make a call at all. He just needed to get away for a moment. The thoughts cleared from his head before more transient ones from passersby took their place.

I need a smoke.

It was the only one of his own thoughts that surfaced high enough to register above the collective. He started to reach into his blazer pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and his lighter when someone started shouting in his general direction. The angry tone meant it probably wasn’t a fan. The masculine voice meant Hasani didn’t care. At least not until he realized he was being yelled at in Arabic and the man was accusing him of fucking his wife.

Which was fair. Hasani had cucked over a lot of sad boyfriends and husbands. Most unwilling. The only problem was, Hasani had never seen the woman the man was with in his life and the collective of thoughts from the surrounding area was too loud for Hasani to parse that Rhea was not, in fact, his wife, but his daughter. Not without getting closer, and Hasani had a personal philosophy of not getting closer to people that probably wanted to hit him. Especially when he was about to taunt them.

“I didn’t touch your wife,” he called back in Arabic. Then he smirked and added, “But I can if she wants to know what a real man is like.” Of course, because Hasani was a dick, he couldn’t leave well enough alone. Rhea and her father would each hear a different thought played out in their own personal inner voice. For Rhea, it was one laden with the emotion of lust, I wouldn’t mind… And for her father, one of resignation, I’m really not man enough compared to him, not with this cane.

Notes & Tags: rhea | Outfit

[rhea]

if i'm a danger to myself Just think what I could do to you Hasani Serna

Hasani's mental prod, not to mention verbal one, seemed to have spiked a newfound level of hatred from her father as he broke free from Rhea's grasp, continuing his cursing all the while beginning to cross the street. <"How dare you disrespect me and steal my Shyra! I have been waiting for this moment for more than a decade!>"

Rhea on the other hand was caught off guard, the thought she had/not had made her look up and study the man intently. A small part of her really wouldn't mind and it didn't help that she had a tendency to sample around every now and again. What really came to mind was a specific memory after a particular show. She remembered this man's face...and shortly after his name. Unfortunately these thoughts had distracted her enough, and the old man was now in the middle of the street waving his cane at Hasani and cursing him. <"Father, of all days to lose your mind!>" She ran out in the middle of the street, thoroughly angry with both men as she took the cane in both hands and yanked as hard as she could. Her father, surprised at the gesture and falling over, nearly landed on his face as his right arm came up to protect himself. A car came to a coasting halt and began honking its horn at the two of them, but she didn't care.

She crossed the street, walking right up to Hasani and throwing the cane down at his feet. "A vile woman came up behind my father and knocked him into the road. He is being incredibly unreasonable with me, and I need help. Would you please help me, Mr. Hero-ssssan?" Her Japanese, while near-perfect, still had that tinge of an accent within it indicating she was not a native speaker, though every other part of her appearance told the tale that she wasn't from around here. Her words to Hasani dripped with a venom, her hiss a clear indication of danger an anger boiled under the surface. Some of it was directed at the man in the middle of the street, but there was clearly some directed at Hasani as well.

0 Victims

OWL