<div align="center"><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 18pt;"><strong>The Fuchsia Fox and an Artifact Absent</strong></span></div><br/><div class="floatleft">(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/3f/cb/51/3fcb513183b094b643a10c74bed38b1e.jpg)</div><strong>NAME:</strong>Date Toshiro<br/><strong>DAY:</strong>December 25th, 2018 | 8:30PM and December 26th, 2018 | 1:30 PM<br/><strong>LOCATION:</strong>Toshiro's Place then SOPHE, Second Floor Balcony<br/><strong>TAGGING:</strong><em>Albion</em>, Nerissa<br/><strong>EXTRA:</strong><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button" style="">CONTENT WARNING</div><div class="spoiler_body">Drugging and reacting to assault</div></div><br/><strong>WEARING:</strong>An unbuttoned charcoal gray suit jacket, a loose fitting tie black tie with gray stripes, and dress pants with a white button up shirt. The following day he is wearing a overly large gray hoodie with a Polkadot Stingray emblem (https://ih1.redbubble.net/image.746250090.2683/ssrco,lightweight_hoodie,mens,grey_lightweight_hoodie,front,square_product,x600-bg,f8f8f8.2u3.jpg), black jeans, and his worn running shoes.<br/><hr/>“That... that hurts...” Toshiro managed as Albion pulled the increasingly less responsive man towards his face, it wasn't that uncommon for usually playful acts of dominance or experimental S&M to be a bit too forceful in the heat of the moment. Toshiro offered up as much of a reassuring smile as his largely slack face would offer as he didn't want to discourage Albion too much after what was clearly a mistake, however that was until his oldest and probably only friend began to speak. At first Toshiro kept smiling in response, after all these weren't the sort of things Albion would ever say to him sincerely, surely he wasn't being serious. Toshiro still couldn't help but feel his stomach tighten in response as even if Albion was being too cruel in playful teasing, his own ever present self-doubt reassured him that one of the few people in the world he had much attachment to was finally deciding to be truthful with him.<br/><br/>By the time Albion's spit had landed on Toshiro's face, it quickly coalesced with the warm tears streaming down his cheeks. Between his words, his actions, and that look of unmistakable loathing on Albion's usual more tranquil face, there was no mistaking that Toshiro had done something wrong. “I'm... I'm s-sorry...” Toshiro's words were almost reduced to little more that a whisper between the loss of control and his weak gasps of air he managed between sobs. Albion was right, Toshiro had tried to take advantage of him after they'd had too much to drink, he'd risked something they'd spent years to build just to fulfill some juvenile fantasy, the idea that anyone who knew him would ever want a relationship to be anything beyond sharing the occasional drink.<br/><br/>It was only at Albion's shouting of slurs among what Toshiro had considered well deserved admonishments that the now supine scientist began to realize something was wrong beyond the obvious warranted cruelty of the situation. As much as he might deserve this, Albion was not the type of person to attack someone for the company they enjoyed, and as Toshiro's whiskey and drug logged brain began to follow this chain of thought, it slowly dawned on him that the Albion he'd known for years would never be capable of such a malevolent turn. As the kicks from whoever it was standing above Toshiro continued to slam into his helpless body, as the blood pouring from the corner his mouth met with the dirt from his attacker's shoes, the spit and tears, slowly his anguish began to transform into an impotent rage, the sort of anger at both his attacker and himself that could only stem from at having allowed this to happen for the second time in his life.<br/><br/>With all the focus he could muster, with all the modicum of control he could still exercise over his motionless body, Toshiro narrowed his eyes in an attempt to see through the blur of tears and pain towards the figure of his attacker. As he had expected the shape of his attacker appeared to change once their work had been done, Albion's broader shoulders and impeccable sense of style shrinking in to a more feminine frame clad in less impressive attire, the once silver hair subtly changing in hue and length till long pink strands cascaded down his attacker's exposed shoulders. More than anything it was the unmistakable shape of that pink tail carelessly trailing along the floor of his apartment that revealed to Toshiro his attacker's identity, and he couldn't help but curse himself again for not having expected it, for having allowed a demon beholden to the tenants of Calder to pass from his sight without the observation she deserved. Watching her take both the haniwa statue and a few far less important items, Toshiro tried to call out, but the name 'Nerissa' died in his throat before he could make a sound. Then, as the door slammed behind her, he was alone with the feeling of Marceline pushing reassuringly against his hand, while his unmoving gaze was forced towards the painting, a lesson he had too easily forgotten.<br/><br/>Unable to drift away to sleep through the ceaseless flow of thoughts that continued to poor through his mind, scolding regarding his offensive presumption of self-worth, questions regarding how Nerissa knew about his feelings for Albion, and plans about how he would resolve this situation. All of these concepts whirred about in a haze of drunkenness slipping to hang over, of numbness giving way to pain, and of night's darkness giving way to the early morning light. For the remainder of those early hours of returning agency, Toshiro took his time treating his injuries against the lingering pull of the waning drug, a lifetime of experience treating far worse injuries in others, and using far more questionable methods than he would subject anyone other than himself to reducing what would normally take weeks of recover time, to only a matter of days. Unfortunately for Toshiro, he didn't have days to wait.<br/><br/>Casually strolling into SOPHE HQ far later than usual for most employees, although largely expected of himself, Toshiro now wore a large baggy gray pullover hoodie with a large Polkadot Stingray logo emblazoned on the front pulled over his lithe body above a pair of black jeans and his usual comfortable pair of running shoes, his reddened eyes concealed by a pair of thick framed sunglasses that mercifully shielded him from the bright LED lights that lined SOPHE's ceilings. While the idea had been to attempt to hide the severe wince of pain that shot across his abdomen with every step, Toshiro tried his best to conceal it by moving slowly and stopping to pretend to be preoccupied with his phone whenever someone passed too near him.  Painfully making his way to the elevator leading to the second floor, Toshiro quickly, or as quickly as he was able, made his way to the large empty balcony that sat next to the once again vacant head office of one of SOPHE's more mysterious research divisions.<br/><br/>Sitting on a bench that sat only a foot from the lip of the building, he stared out over the view of the large mass of trees that grew over the remains of what had once been a large swathe of Tokyo in silence as Marcelline curled up on his lap. His hands idly scratching and petting her warm furry neck and body, as he failed to collect his thoughts over the chest seizing grip of the short gasps of air he managed to pull in against the swirling miasma of memories that hadn't ceased to swarm him since the night before.