www. change petitions/fanfiction-net-stop-the-destruction-of-fanfiction-net

A/N: I just got wind of the destruction of , well maybe not destruction but some brilliant *sarcasm* people have taken it upon themselves to 'clean up' the site. Basically they are going to destroy any work they deem unfit, permanently gone for being to violent/mature/disturbing etc. They are trying to tell us what we feel and show us that the way we express our feeling is wrong. Please prove them otherwise. I've already signed and i hope the humble gathering of people following my story will do the same.

With that said I'd like to thank my ever loyal readers and reviewers for being so amazing and flattering me far too much. Thank you very much! I hope you enjoy this...but i don't think you will...


Disillusioned and Drunk

The thumping baseline pounded against Izaya's head, thinly masking the intertwined conversations varying in nature but all equally superficial. Drunkards courting other drunkards, testosterone fuelled males displaying dominance, overly made-up females vying for attention and in the midst of all this controlled social chaos sat a disillusioned information dealer emptying the contents of his previously full glass. Izaya had thought humans were interesting, fun to play with but as it turned out he had no interest in any of the occurrences around him whatsoever. All he could do was flick his wrist to motion to the bartender that he needed a refill.

Swirling the liquid in his glass he shook his head, was he really going to sit here depressed and disillusioned and get drunk? He was Izaya Orihara, he could do anything. Sitting up straight he let anger drum through him, how could he be such an apathetic whining piece of trash? He shouldn't be sitting here getting drunk, he should be out there planning some sort of horribly twisted and amusing revenge. He should be creating a grand game with Ikebukuro as the setting. A vast city filled with differing individuals he could easily manipulate. He could create a notorious drug ring, start a yakuza turf war or he could even set a company into financial ruin. You know, just for fun.

Yes.

The entire city was at his mercy, maybe he could even set his sights farther. Perhaps he could bring the crime of Tokyo to Ikebukuro. It was a big goal but Izaya was confident he could achieve it grandly and in his own unique style. It could be very interesting. He could just see it now, the police in a flurry, scared citizens, uprising street gangs, he wondered what the DOLLARS would have to say about this. Ah they were really his favourite group to toy with. Their members were so well meaning, so impressionable and naive to a certain degree. Well what could you expect with a leader like that?

But.

Shizuo was in the dollars. If he created a mess, surely this new aspect of his personality would not allow him to stand by and just watch. The old Shizuo wouldn't have been bothered if it had nothing to do with him, but now he could very well become heavily involved. Izaya knew Shizuo could withstand anything but he had never been indestructible. What if Izaya started a yakuza turf war and he got involved for the sake of the masses? Surely they would capture him eventually, and knowing the yakuza as well as he did there was no telling what they may do to him. He shuddered at the thought.

Slumping back into his chair he realised he could do nothing in this apathetic state of his. No matter how many goals he set for himself, no matter how much he hyped himself up he would always be wary of Shizuo getting involved. Damn it, he slammed the glass on the bar making his frustration physically obvious. Shaking his hair with both hands he settled his face in them and squeezed his eyes shut. Did this mean that the life he had lead up till now was over? Grimacing slightly he snorted at the irony of Shizuo ending his life. Who would have thought it possible? Certainly not Izaya. He flicked his wrist once more and called over the bartender.

"What's the matter you get dumped?" the bartender flashed a smile at him. He was young, the same age as Izaya probably, and was good looking enough to merit some rowdy attention from the female patrons. But all Izaya could see was the bartenders outfit and thus avoided looking at him altogether because it reminded him far too much of a certain blonde. When he didn't reply and just opted for holding the glass up the bartender frowned. Filling his glass once more he added,

"Whoever it was is idiotic, who'd dump a cutie like you?" at these words Izaya looked up at the man somewhat startled and received a wink for his efforts. Was this guy hitting on him?

"I wasn't dumped," he went back to surveying his glass hoping it would be enough to brush off the bartender. He wasn't in the mood for this.

"You know..." the bartender placed a hand over Izaya's gaining his attention, "the best cure for a broken heart is revenge." He smirked at Izaya making his intention clear. Glaring at the man Izaya snatched his hand away and threw some bills on the bar.

"Don't flatter yourself." And with that he disappeared into the noisy crowd leaving the bartender to shrug his shoulders and go to another customer.

He stumbled through the crowd, but he thought that perhaps it was more due to the fact that the energetic and uncaring patronage of the bar was jostling him around rather than the effect of the alcohol. Gulping in large amounts of cold city air he tried to empty his mind but the shouts and overly noisy demonstrations of life were too distracting. In any other situation he would have allowed himself to be distracted and moved seamlessly through the lively crowds silently and unnoticed like a ghost but he felt so incredibly alone right now and therefore didn't want to be a ghost. He needed people to see him, even if they were only looking and not seeing. If he had the eyes of this large crowd on him maybe he would feel better, not so alone.

His profile was highlighted by a bright artificial light, illuminating his features. A large blaring warning coming from a surprised and frantic civilian. A small melancholy smile gracing his features. Half a second to close his eyes. Another two for the car bonnet to connect with his legs. Another four for his body to roll on top of it and crack the windscreen. Another three for the car to lurch from the too late applied brakes. Another two for his body to thump onto the ground. One more second for a scream to rip apart the night and for people to rush to the scene.

Amidst all the chaos of those calling ambulances, taking pictures and shoving to see better, Izaya felt his consciousness slip away. He was being watched, he wasn't alone. He was being watched.


*begs* please don't kill me!

I know what you guys were thinking, oh yeah! Izaya is gonna get drunk off his ass and then an encounter with shizuo will lead to a smut filled rating change!

But i ran him over...

I wanted to be original. I'm such a horrible bitch -_-

But hey it can only get better from here! Right?

...

Review and tell me what creative way you're going to end my life :)