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If you know what you want to write, but you just can't write it, does it count as a writer's block? O_O I mean, for [Blinded], I have the entire damn thing in my head. And it's still growing... the scenes, I swear, are sodomising and reproducing in my head, at a rate so fast I have to write down some notes the moment I think of something otherwise I lose track of it.
The thing is I want to write the "Takatori-saga" well. I don't like what I normally see in the fandom where Takatori just lust after someone in Schwarz, and things like that. It's boring. That guy deserves more scenes than that... for a man to be in such a position in the political world, with such influence over people, he must be more complex than the random pervert. So for [Blinded], Crawford and Takatori are going to be more than agent and client. They're going to dislike each other. They're going to hate each other. They'll want to kill each other very much. They can't do that, but they can take steps to make each other's life miserable.
But before they've made each other's life miserable, they've made mine miserable. Because it's giving me a block. Grrrr. Tell me what to do, people.
Takatori Reiji was a dangerous man.
And there was the unmissable accessory in his office: the fishtank.
Those were the first two thoughts Crawford had about the Japanese politician, who leaned back into his chair and studied Schwarz, a Cuban cigar in his hand. His posture suggested the superiority of a man who had always been the predator. Under his scrutinising gaze, Crawford knew Takatori was not going to be an easy client.
As for the goldfish, that was just one of the few things Crawford would admit he did not understand. Just what was so fashionable about having fish swimming in one's office?
//Schuldich, report.//
Schuldich glanced at Farfarello, who actually made a rather good conversation that impressed their new client. It was not much of a conversation, truth to be told, it was Takatori asking Farfarello what he could do and Farfarello telling his honest answer: "I kill". The telepath bit back a smile and answered Crawford.
//The good news is that he likes Farfie. Otherwise I don't like what I'm seeing... He has this idea about controlling us. Thinks Nagi's too young, hates my green hair... And he doesn't like you very much.//
How interesting, Crawford thought. //Elaborate?//
//You remind him of his eldest son, somehow. Thinks you're just here to kiss his ass. "All talk and no work", in his own words.//
Crawford quickly recalled the information they were given. Takatori Reiji had two sons and a teenage daughter, who had a different mother. One of the sons was Masafumi, a twenty-eight years-old who wasted most of his time and his father's money on biological research that SS had shown interest in. The other son, thirty years-old Hirofumi, had supported his father's political career throughout by keeping a healthy balance with their political party.
//Takatori Reiji has underestimated Hirofumi's importance. Social science is a fine art.//
//Oh, you mean you like being compared with his son?// Schuldich asked Crawford, amused.
//No. I'll have to correct his way of thinking.//
//I really like the way you phrase things.//
//Thank you. I'm going to borrow your ability for a moment.//
//Borrow...? What do you mean?//
"Schuldich, Farfarello, Nagi, wait outside."
Takatori's eyes narrowed at the sudden interruption. The Schwarz members followed Crawford's orders, not asking why because they knew Crawford would tell them the reason later if they should know, and Schuldich could always pull whatever he wanted from Takatori's mind. Crawford stepped forward, pulling off his glasses at the same time to wipe them with his tie. He did not look at Takatori when he spoke.
"Mister Takatori," He chose to speak in English, "I'd like to remind you that Schwarz is not employed by you - we're here to watch you. We will do whatever we see fit. That might include helping you to win the next election, but it also might not. Stay useful to the SS and we'll give you what you want."
Takatori's eyes narrowed even further, and his jaw tightened. He had not expected this at all. Crawford finally puts his glasses back on. He spoke with a smirk.
"Schwarz is my team, not yours. I consider myself to be a fairly friendly and reasonable person, but if you should do anything to my team that I don't like - and that includes insulting them because of their age or hair colour - then remember we're the paranormals, not you, and you can be easily replaced."
From Takatori's expression, Crawford knew he had succesfully made the man think that he was not only a precognitive, but also a mindreader.
"Dozo yoroshiku, Mister Takatori."
The thing is I want to write the "Takatori-saga" well. I don't like what I normally see in the fandom where Takatori just lust after someone in Schwarz, and things like that. It's boring. That guy deserves more scenes than that... for a man to be in such a position in the political world, with such influence over people, he must be more complex than the random pervert. So for [Blinded], Crawford and Takatori are going to be more than agent and client. They're going to dislike each other. They're going to hate each other. They'll want to kill each other very much. They can't do that, but they can take steps to make each other's life miserable.
But before they've made each other's life miserable, they've made mine miserable. Because it's giving me a block. Grrrr. Tell me what to do, people.
Takatori Reiji was a dangerous man.
And there was the unmissable accessory in his office: the fishtank.
Those were the first two thoughts Crawford had about the Japanese politician, who leaned back into his chair and studied Schwarz, a Cuban cigar in his hand. His posture suggested the superiority of a man who had always been the predator. Under his scrutinising gaze, Crawford knew Takatori was not going to be an easy client.
As for the goldfish, that was just one of the few things Crawford would admit he did not understand. Just what was so fashionable about having fish swimming in one's office?
//Schuldich, report.//
Schuldich glanced at Farfarello, who actually made a rather good conversation that impressed their new client. It was not much of a conversation, truth to be told, it was Takatori asking Farfarello what he could do and Farfarello telling his honest answer: "I kill". The telepath bit back a smile and answered Crawford.
//The good news is that he likes Farfie. Otherwise I don't like what I'm seeing... He has this idea about controlling us. Thinks Nagi's too young, hates my green hair... And he doesn't like you very much.//
How interesting, Crawford thought. //Elaborate?//
//You remind him of his eldest son, somehow. Thinks you're just here to kiss his ass. "All talk and no work", in his own words.//
Crawford quickly recalled the information they were given. Takatori Reiji had two sons and a teenage daughter, who had a different mother. One of the sons was Masafumi, a twenty-eight years-old who wasted most of his time and his father's money on biological research that SS had shown interest in. The other son, thirty years-old Hirofumi, had supported his father's political career throughout by keeping a healthy balance with their political party.
//Takatori Reiji has underestimated Hirofumi's importance. Social science is a fine art.//
//Oh, you mean you like being compared with his son?// Schuldich asked Crawford, amused.
//No. I'll have to correct his way of thinking.//
//I really like the way you phrase things.//
//Thank you. I'm going to borrow your ability for a moment.//
//Borrow...? What do you mean?//
"Schuldich, Farfarello, Nagi, wait outside."
Takatori's eyes narrowed at the sudden interruption. The Schwarz members followed Crawford's orders, not asking why because they knew Crawford would tell them the reason later if they should know, and Schuldich could always pull whatever he wanted from Takatori's mind. Crawford stepped forward, pulling off his glasses at the same time to wipe them with his tie. He did not look at Takatori when he spoke.
"Mister Takatori," He chose to speak in English, "I'd like to remind you that Schwarz is not employed by you - we're here to watch you. We will do whatever we see fit. That might include helping you to win the next election, but it also might not. Stay useful to the SS and we'll give you what you want."
Takatori's eyes narrowed even further, and his jaw tightened. He had not expected this at all. Crawford finally puts his glasses back on. He spoke with a smirk.
"Schwarz is my team, not yours. I consider myself to be a fairly friendly and reasonable person, but if you should do anything to my team that I don't like - and that includes insulting them because of their age or hair colour - then remember we're the paranormals, not you, and you can be easily replaced."
From Takatori's expression, Crawford knew he had succesfully made the man think that he was not only a precognitive, but also a mindreader.
"Dozo yoroshiku, Mister Takatori."