#MANABU :{ that pretty boy says handsome things‚ if nothing else.

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The minutes had ticked by, with both of them simply waiting. Waiting. Waiting. For any signs that their friends would regroup with them.

@mcwscollective’s michiru said: “ let’s go for a walk. staying here is the worst thing we can do, right? “ | reaussurance prompts

“Right! Excellent suggestion, Michiru,” Manabu stepped out into foyer, arms crossed pridefully. Obviously as the leader, it was his responsibility to take point. They had gotten separated from the rest of the club, and now the power was out. Their footsteps echoed strangely on the tiles, seeming to bounce back at them from a dozen different directions. It lent a certain atmosphere that made alleged haunting of a specter that was supposedly stunningly beautiful seem more plausible. “It doesn’t do at all to leave one’s teammates to be hunted by a spirit!”

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@peachrote​’s mizuki said: mizuki stares at manabu. "whoaaaa~! super cute miku cosplay! is that your own design?" yeah they think he's cosplaying miku.

Manabu stares back at her, blinking several times in succession while he tries to decipher the meaning of any of those words. Miku? Cosplay? Do any of them mean critically-important-yet-beautiful detective? Seemingly not. So instead he zeroes in on what he does understand, and puffs up with pride.

“Certainly not! If the exquisite craftsman ship and attention to details doesn’t give it away, this was handcrafted by Sosaku for detective work of the utmost importance!” Manabu — always eager to talk up the talents of his club members — extends an arm, offering Mizuki the chance to inspect the sleeve of the uniform, more painstakingly crafted than his school’s actual, official uniform. “...But furthermore, what is a miku?”

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four of cups | random tarot card starters | @pseudoneiric​​ { yukki }

Now wasn’t this a sorry specimen? The raincloud hovering over him was almost tangible! A sublime example of a complete sadsack! There’s no art to it at all! No aestheticism! Manabu marches up to the complete stranger, swollen with ego and oh-so-gracious good intentions.

“You look like you need help!” he announces straightforwardly, beaming a pretty boy smile with his hands on his hips. He doesn’t mean to be rude. “I’ll lend an ear to your troubles, if you want.”

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nine of pentacles | random tarot card starters | @pseudoneiric​​ { homura }

“Ooohhhhh...!”

She’s splendid, in an aesthetic sense. She has an air around her that emanates a maturity far beyond the middle school campus she inhabits (a campus that Manabu should not be inhabiting, but nevertheless... here he is.) Her hair is long and dark, she moves, alone, like an elegant shadow, melancholy in a way that is simultaneously unfathomable to his foolish child mind yet simultaneously stirs his nature as a detective. He can’t begin to imagine what mysteries she might contain, what problems she could bring for him to solve as a pretty boy detective.

He ponders this as he approaches, closer and closer, entranced by the prospect of potential mystery, until he’s hovering less than a foot away from her before he realizes.

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everyone tag drop

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You have to trade specialties with one of the other detective club members… who would you choose and why?

very old unprompted asks!

"You're missing the point quite fundamentally," Manabu wags his finger reproachfully, with a smug little smile, "For the Pretty Boy Detective Club to function properly as a team, the unique talents of each of the members works in beautiful harmony! Coveting the skills of ones teammates will only cause unnecessary disruption." He puts his hands on his hips, chest puffed out and beaming with pride for his teammates.

"...That being said, Nagahiro's exquisite communication and negotiation skills are beautifully admirable. It's no wonder he's been such a beloved president of the middle school's student council."

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BEAUTIFUL!! :

Ever the one in search of new ways to shock and surprise, Viktor could only smile at the applause and the praise that echoed across the rink. He hadn't expected an audience, but that had never stopped him from performing in front of one before. If someone had the time and desire to watch, who was he to tell them no? Especially when the fan was so well behaved -- there was no need for alarm when he seemed to be there for the enjoyment of it (rather than trying to pester him for attention, photos, and autographs while he was in the middle of something.) "I would bet your parents are looking for you," he said, returning to the edge of the rink to better speak with his young fan. Hopefully there hadn't been a case of a runaway (or something just as dramatic,) and could be settled with a simple phone call or waiting for them to catch up with him. "But I wouldn't say no to waiting here with you until you can be reunited--" he paused, looking along the rink then back at the boy again. "Do you skate too?"

Manabu clapped until his hands stung, then met the stranger at the cement wall that he was barely tall enough to see over. It had seemed like nearly magic. He would have to ask Hyouta what he knew about the sport later!

“Not at the moment. I am here unattended,” Manabu announced. He’d been following a lead on a case that turned out to be a dead end. Disappointing, but hopefully the others were having better luck. His parents had been here, in the past. He had fuzzy memories here at this community center as a family, with Odoru. “My big brother used to take dance lessons here. But I’m no skater; all I have is my sense of aestheticism, so I’ve never been into this skating rink before, until I was awestruck by your beautiful performance! Worry not, deserving beauty is always recognized by deserving observers!“ Needless to say, he has no idea who he’s talking to.

@mcwscollective​

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@mcwscollective‘s michiru said: ❝ the point is your work here is done. i got it covered from here. ❞

“Michiru!” Manabu tried to protest, but it came out as more of a whine while he cried over the onion he was supposed to be chopping, in an attempt to help with the meal. “You’re the one who says ‘those who don’t work, don’t eat,’ are you not?”

In addition to reducing Manabu to tears (which he was making worse by continuing to rub at his eyes with his bare, onion-covered hands), the onion sat on the cutting board in front of him in amateurish, uneven chunks. Through his tears, he frowned at them scrutinously; his sense of aestheticism couldn’t bear it, knowing it wasn’t worthy of a Michiru Fukuroi dish. He sniffled loudly, picking up the knife again. “Even your leader will earn his plate!”

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doin’ a little science.

somebody stop him before he blows something up

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@mcwscollective​​‘s alois said: ❝ moderation is like a foreign language. ❞

“There may be a time and a place for moderation,” Manabu conceded from across the table, with a forkful of more frosting than cake. He’s a growing boy, and the food he can bum from Alois is endlessly elegant and almost as good as Michiru’s. “But also for excess! Only sometimes does more of a beautiful thing work to its detriment!”

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@mcwscollective​​ sent: “ you’re doing it wrong. ” // sabu -> manabu

“Hm?” Manabu’s head poppped up over the monitor, headphones that didn’t quite fit him slipping slightly. He’d barely figured out the controls but he certainly couldn’t proceed until he redecorated this drab little starter house.

“Nonsense, young Saburo! I’ll have this place in lovely shape in no time!” He did not seem to have noticed that it had already been two hours.

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Zzzzzzz

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It’s past dumb baby bedtime but the dumb baby is still awake!

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manabu tag drop