All the same blah blah, don't own them, nothing mine. Bleh.
The Juuocho, where the immortal bringers of death dwell and toil under the supervision of the god of death himself. Enma-Daioh.
It was a beautiful day, in its own rights, the birds sang, the eternal sakura were in their perpetual bloom. The day would not be complete without the deafening blast issuing from a certain laboratory, being followed by a certain blonde scientist running full tilt from a certain angry secretary. It was a day like any other in all rights, but there were plans being made as I narrate, (sorry, just and to say that). Plans that would decide the fate of two certain individuals.
"Souls have been disappearing all over the country, only to reappear in more populated areas," the man with rough, weary features massaged his temple, sighing heavily before continuing. "mutilated and mindless." Chief Kanoe Kachou stood before his employee's, his rough weather beaten face creased with consternation as the slides on the projector emphasized his point. Bodies strewn in haphazard abandon, like rag dolls discarded by children, torn and bloodied.
Consternation written all over his features "was there any relation?" piped the blonde in a white lab coat, albeit a little charred from his previous endeavors, Yutaka Watari, resident (mad?) scientist, tinkering with his latest invention, a welcome break from the infamous gender changing potion. Even 'evil' geniuses need breaks now and then
As expected, a familiar voice came from the further corner of the table. The economical Secretary of the Bureau had dropped a manila folder onto the long conference table "they were all guest soloists in this one club, one by the name of 'Platine Astatine'." Shifting his glasses higher up the bridge of his nose, "they disappear shortly after their solo, those that go missing are usually those with exceptional talent, talent focused on the voice as it were." Most of the other employee's in the shokan division, those currently in the meeting as it was, were slightly, if not a not completely surprised by the fact that 'exceptional singers' were disappearing in a club that was suspiciously named 'Platinum-something' in some foreign language. Nevertheless, there could be more completely logical options as to who was behind it, its not always the crazed psychopath in white, right? RIGHT?
Well, beside the point. It had been a long meeting, their debates heated and their instructions rigid, and they all wanted nothing more than a nights sleep.
Hisoka hid his grimace as did Tsuzuki, their pseudonyms had not been as they would have hoped, but they could do no more should they gather rather unwanted attention.
They hated this job and their undercover identities in particular, but then, what was a better way of sneaking into a ritzy strip club?
Do I continue? Do ya really want to know what happens to the guys? Cause I don't really think I should. It's a cliché theme and lacks the necessary structure, its just a stupid fluffy PWP. Urg. I cant believe I could stoop so low…
So review if you want. But I would like it if you did. If you can guess the song before the next chapter…. Then good for you.