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fandomweekly2023-04-14 06:45 pm
curiosity) wrote in fandomweekly2023-04-14 06:45 pm
Entry tags:
[#174] Haunting in Edgewise (Guild TEMPUS)
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Theme Prompt: #174 – Rumor
Title: Haunting in Edgewise
Fandom: holostars EN Guild TEMPUS (Guild TEMPUS vTubers operating under the holostars label)
Rating/Warnings: PG, some swearing.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Josuiji Shinri (last name, first name) is a struggling post-grad by day and a ghost hunter who ends up debunking things 99 times out of 100, by night. But maybe this time he'll find the real deal? His loose network of friends has clued him in to a guy who is either haunted or crazy or both.
Josuiji Shinri, ghost-hunter and paranormal phenomenon debunker, double-checked the address written on the napkin in his hand. Then looked up at the house.
Sure, the place had that eerie kind of vibe every cookie-cutter suburban house had. But the siding was new and clean. The windows were sparkling and the shutters looked like they actually worked. A nicely maintained lawn was dotted with cute little statues and Japanese maples. The house looked nothing like the rumors had suggested.
He climbed three steps to a postage-stamp porch and knocked anyway. Unlike most gigs, this one paid. The owner of the house was going to pay him five hundred dollars just to show up and another thousand if he lasted the night. Shinri couldn’t pass that up. He was low on funds and there was only so much ramen one man could eat.
The door flew open, revealing an emaciated, barefoot man. He wore a white tank top and neon pink short-shorts. Half his shoulder-length, silvery blond hair had been dyed pink. Half had been dyed blue. He blinked blearily at Shinri, then squinted suspiciously.
“You don’t look like Mack.”
“My name is Shinri.” Shinri held his hands up, palms flat to show he was harmless.
“Worst con ever, admitting it off the bat,” the guy said, scratching his belly through the tank top. “Don’t think I’m going to tip extra for honesty. That’s a sucker’s game.”
“Tip?” Shinri was confused. “I’m here about a ghost?”
The guy froze mid-scratch. His eyes widened and a manic grin appeared as he cleared his throat and struggled to appear more presentable. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much to work with.
“Hahaha. Sorry about that! I ordered some food and the usual delivery guy - Mack - is late. My bad, my bad! Come in, come in. Can I get you a Brisk?” The guy stepped away from the door, waving Shinri inside.
Shinri entered, looking around. From what he could see, the house was perfectly clean inside. There was no odor, at least. Unstained carpet, good-quality furniture, and curtains that even matched the rest of the decor. Nothing matched the description of the haunting he’d heard about. Nothing even matched the haphazard man that had answered the door.
The man sidled past Shinri in the hallway, with a muttered ‘excuse me’, and scrambled into the kitchen. Shinri heard a fridge door open with a clang and a rattle. Bottles clinked. The door slammed again. Then the guy was back, knobby knees flashing. He smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he were having a seizure, and offered a can.
“Brisk? It’s my favorite. Iced tea. You drink iced tea, right? The only other thing I have is beer. Don’t get me wrong, beer is great, but if you’re going to be working on, the, uh, ghost thing, then beer isn't a good idea, right? So, Brisk it is, baby. Er. Uh.”
“Brisk is fine, thank you,” Shinri said, accepting the can. If only to keep this guy from talking himself into a stroke. “My name is Shinri. I got your address from a friend?”
“Flayon? Hakka? One of them,” the man said. “I’ve had everyone and their mother here trying to figure out what is going on. It’s a never-ending circus over here, I swear. I’m starting to feel like a clown. No one ever catches anything that could be proof you know?” The guy opened his own can with a deft flick of the wrist and chugged half the contents with a disgruntled sigh. “I’m really starting to feel like a lunatic.”
“Er. Let’s start simple. Maybe tell me your name? And a little more about what’s going on?” Shinri suggested. “Can we sit down somewhere and I’ll take a few notes? Then I’ll explain how things usually go and we can make a rough plan.”
“Fuck. Fuck me. I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” The guy led Shinri to a couch. “My name is Bettel. Gavis Bettel.”
“All right then, Gavis. Tell me-”
“No, no. Gavis is my last name. Bettel is my first name. Please. Call me Bettel.”
“Er. Sorry about that. Bettel. Tell me abou-”
“I guess that was my fault for doing the James Bond thing, huh? My name is Bond. James Bond. My name is Bettel. Gavis Bettel. I fucked that one up. My bad.”
“It’s fine,” Shinri said, smiling. “Really. Let’s just-”
“You ever have one of those days, Shin? Can I can you Shin?”
“Er-”
“I mean, I went to dye my hair purple right? Purple’s my favorite color. It’s the color of royalty! Power! But some how the dye split and now I look like a demented, discount Harley Quinn!” Bettel slumped against the sofa and glumly chugged his Brisk. When the can was empty, he set it on a coffee table's coaster.
Shinri noted the coaster was a round bit of cork with some cotton lace crocheted over and around it. At this point, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn Bettel had made it himself. And then eaten the rest of the cork.
“It’s stuff like that,” Bettel continued. “And my shorts,” he tugged at the leg of his neon pink short-shorts. “These were red! Blood red! Like I murdered someone! And they went down to my knees! But when they came out of the dryer, they looked like this.”
Bettel glared at them for a minute, then glanced up at Shinri and admitted. “They do make my ass look fantastic, though.”
“Um.” Shinri found himself at a loss.
Bettel leaned forward. “That has to be a ghost, right? Laundry doesn’t just do that on its own, right?”
“Well-”
The doorbell rang and Bettel bounced up, scuttling away before Shinri could even formulate a response. Shinri hoped that was Mack. He took a sip of his own beverage, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
From the corner of his eye, the can and coaster on the coffee table began to move.
Theme Prompt: #174 – Rumor
Title: Haunting in Edgewise
Fandom: holostars EN Guild TEMPUS (Guild TEMPUS vTubers operating under the holostars label)
Rating/Warnings: PG, some swearing.
Bonus: Yes.
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Josuiji Shinri (last name, first name) is a struggling post-grad by day and a ghost hunter who ends up debunking things 99 times out of 100, by night. But maybe this time he'll find the real deal? His loose network of friends has clued him in to a guy who is either haunted or crazy or both.
Josuiji Shinri, ghost-hunter and paranormal phenomenon debunker, double-checked the address written on the napkin in his hand. Then looked up at the house.
Sure, the place had that eerie kind of vibe every cookie-cutter suburban house had. But the siding was new and clean. The windows were sparkling and the shutters looked like they actually worked. A nicely maintained lawn was dotted with cute little statues and Japanese maples. The house looked nothing like the rumors had suggested.
He climbed three steps to a postage-stamp porch and knocked anyway. Unlike most gigs, this one paid. The owner of the house was going to pay him five hundred dollars just to show up and another thousand if he lasted the night. Shinri couldn’t pass that up. He was low on funds and there was only so much ramen one man could eat.
The door flew open, revealing an emaciated, barefoot man. He wore a white tank top and neon pink short-shorts. Half his shoulder-length, silvery blond hair had been dyed pink. Half had been dyed blue. He blinked blearily at Shinri, then squinted suspiciously.
“You don’t look like Mack.”
“My name is Shinri.” Shinri held his hands up, palms flat to show he was harmless.
“Worst con ever, admitting it off the bat,” the guy said, scratching his belly through the tank top. “Don’t think I’m going to tip extra for honesty. That’s a sucker’s game.”
“Tip?” Shinri was confused. “I’m here about a ghost?”
The guy froze mid-scratch. His eyes widened and a manic grin appeared as he cleared his throat and struggled to appear more presentable. Unfortunately, he didn’t have much to work with.
“Hahaha. Sorry about that! I ordered some food and the usual delivery guy - Mack - is late. My bad, my bad! Come in, come in. Can I get you a Brisk?” The guy stepped away from the door, waving Shinri inside.
Shinri entered, looking around. From what he could see, the house was perfectly clean inside. There was no odor, at least. Unstained carpet, good-quality furniture, and curtains that even matched the rest of the decor. Nothing matched the description of the haunting he’d heard about. Nothing even matched the haphazard man that had answered the door.
The man sidled past Shinri in the hallway, with a muttered ‘excuse me’, and scrambled into the kitchen. Shinri heard a fridge door open with a clang and a rattle. Bottles clinked. The door slammed again. Then the guy was back, knobby knees flashing. He smiled, the corner of his mouth twitching as if he were having a seizure, and offered a can.
“Brisk? It’s my favorite. Iced tea. You drink iced tea, right? The only other thing I have is beer. Don’t get me wrong, beer is great, but if you’re going to be working on, the, uh, ghost thing, then beer isn't a good idea, right? So, Brisk it is, baby. Er. Uh.”
“Brisk is fine, thank you,” Shinri said, accepting the can. If only to keep this guy from talking himself into a stroke. “My name is Shinri. I got your address from a friend?”
“Flayon? Hakka? One of them,” the man said. “I’ve had everyone and their mother here trying to figure out what is going on. It’s a never-ending circus over here, I swear. I’m starting to feel like a clown. No one ever catches anything that could be proof you know?” The guy opened his own can with a deft flick of the wrist and chugged half the contents with a disgruntled sigh. “I’m really starting to feel like a lunatic.”
“Er. Let’s start simple. Maybe tell me your name? And a little more about what’s going on?” Shinri suggested. “Can we sit down somewhere and I’ll take a few notes? Then I’ll explain how things usually go and we can make a rough plan.”
“Fuck. Fuck me. I’m sorry. Where are my manners?” The guy led Shinri to a couch. “My name is Bettel. Gavis Bettel.”
“All right then, Gavis. Tell me-”
“No, no. Gavis is my last name. Bettel is my first name. Please. Call me Bettel.”
“Er. Sorry about that. Bettel. Tell me abou-”
“I guess that was my fault for doing the James Bond thing, huh? My name is Bond. James Bond. My name is Bettel. Gavis Bettel. I fucked that one up. My bad.”
“It’s fine,” Shinri said, smiling. “Really. Let’s just-”
“You ever have one of those days, Shin? Can I can you Shin?”
“Er-”
“I mean, I went to dye my hair purple right? Purple’s my favorite color. It’s the color of royalty! Power! But some how the dye split and now I look like a demented, discount Harley Quinn!” Bettel slumped against the sofa and glumly chugged his Brisk. When the can was empty, he set it on a coffee table's coaster.
Shinri noted the coaster was a round bit of cork with some cotton lace crocheted over and around it. At this point, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn Bettel had made it himself. And then eaten the rest of the cork.
“It’s stuff like that,” Bettel continued. “And my shorts,” he tugged at the leg of his neon pink short-shorts. “These were red! Blood red! Like I murdered someone! And they went down to my knees! But when they came out of the dryer, they looked like this.”
Bettel glared at them for a minute, then glanced up at Shinri and admitted. “They do make my ass look fantastic, though.”
“Um.” Shinri found himself at a loss.
Bettel leaned forward. “That has to be a ghost, right? Laundry doesn’t just do that on its own, right?”
“Well-”
The doorbell rang and Bettel bounced up, scuttling away before Shinri could even formulate a response. Shinri hoped that was Mack. He took a sip of his own beverage, wondering what he had gotten himself into.
From the corner of his eye, the can and coaster on the coffee table began to move.
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