barbieland room (NSFW ACCIDENTALLY)

[devil_or_angle]

*there's a new door in the hallway. it's pink. thinking alluka will surely love whatever is behind it, killua turns the handle and heads in to make sure it's safe. his eyes are immediately assaulted with a plastic world made up of the brightest candy-colors he's ever seen, so startling that it takes him a moment to realize that even his clothes have changed to match, trading out his turtleneck and jeans for an open teal-and-pink striped shirt and identically-patterned shorts. he grimaces down at the dorky getup before venturing further inside, wondering if he might be able to find a change of clothes in one of the pink, multi-story houses lining the shiny cul-de-sac.*

Comments

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto was stomping away from the cabins, trying his best to control his breathing, being considerate of Melody, who could probably also tell from his heartbeat that he this was a little ridiculous right now.

Didn't care. He was mad.

In his dream, he was every bit the pretty little doll that his parents wanted him to be. He couldn't speak, only be dressed up as others pleased, and be cooed and fawned over. Even his kills lacked that satisfying moment wherein fear first develops in their eyes, that powerful few seconds between realising they're about to die and Kalluto ending their misery.

That's such an adorable outfi- glurkh-*

Fuck OFF, *he screamed while pounding the nearest door with his fist. He looked up at the plate on it - "Sailor Room". His mood brightened instantly as his mind pirouetted through different historical eras of naval exploration, combat and patrol. As he stepped through the door, he took a deep breath, could already feel the salty air and water spraying his face as a wave inundated the top deck. The breath became a sharp gulp of air, Kalluto completely surprised to find himself indoors, in an inoffensively temperate climate.*

I guess... I'm on leave?

*As he looked around his surroundings, he realised he'd stepped into a walk-in closet not unlike the one in his own cabin, but with a far more limited set of choices mounted on a shadowboard behind a clear plastic case. Plastic was the right word for the pastel violets, blues and teals highlighting the omnipresent pink that soaked everywhere he could see.

He recoiled from the mirror, squinting at it, as soon as he saw his reflection. He didn't look bad as a blonde, the shining platinum underneath his cap just on the borderline of being too close to white for his complexion, but he'd never have chosen it for himself, nor adopted the cut - a fresh recruit's buzzcut, grown over about eight months, choppily rendered into the makings of an undercut with amateur barber work. From the mirror, he also saw that he was wearing a horizontally striped pink and white shirt, which he felt to be quite comfortable cotton suited to the open seas, with loose trousers to match, and polished black shoes.

He appraised the shadow board again, realising that the sets of accessories suited different countries' uniforms, contemporary and past, through the prism of them all being made for plaything sailors. He found a solid, bold turquoise square of cloth and tied it up as a neckerchief, smiling at how it popped off against the lukewarm colours on him and all around him without going far off the aesthetic. Kalluto would stand out, not fade into the background like.... like...

He looked outside, now, astonished at first that he could see outside so broadly. The walls had been cut away, the clear view of the sky and into so many other houses on a cul-de-sac street revealing various people in equally pastel archetypical getups, signifying archetypical professions.

They weren't people, Kalluto knew, but he found it no trouble to play along when he was in the mosh pit, or feel the tug of yearning from seeing the mosh pit in the mirror. But in this case, he was unnerved by the stilted, robotic motions of everyone, the glass vacancy in their eyes, and the way they got the superficial trappings of how they should act just right while missing the mark on everything else. They absolutely weren't people. If he didn't know any better, Kalluto thought he might find one of his brother's needles sticking out of them.*

[devil_or_angle]

*the room only gets weirder the further killua walks, eerie in its manufactured perfection. the various "people" milling around the neighborhood are more like dolls, each dressed up in a spiffy pink outfit befitting their apparent profession and chirping a single predetermined phrase at him -- "hi, ken!" (a case of mistaken identity?)

the houses up ahead, then, must be dollhouses, as they lack walls and staircases and appear to be made out of the same shiny plastic as the smiles on the NPCs. he enters one, looking for a dresser, a closet, anything that might provide him a change of clothes, and when he turns the corner into another outward-facing room, stumbles upon the first real presence he's sensed since he arrived.*

--kalluto?!

*the boy is dressed up in a preppy sailor suit just as pink as his own and blonde, but his cat-lashed fuchsia eyes are unmistakable.*

[descendsanathema]

*When Kalluto hears his name, he leaps backwards from the sound, turning to face it, with such alacrity that his clothes flutter against the air he passes through. By the apex of the jump, he's recognised his brother by his eyes. By the time his battle-ready body has sunk into a low crouch, a landing set up by the jump, he's stifling a giggle as he looks Killua up and down.*

Looking good, big brother.

*Completely focused on the clothing, he pays no mind to the blush peeking from behind the back of his hand.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua's eyes go wide as kalluto nearly jumps out of his silly sailor suit, recognizing him only once he's in the air. though his own reaction isn't nearly as dramatic, he's also startled. he hasn't seen his brother since the field, since he'd -- well, hopefully the latter wouldn't matter, but an anxious, gnawing guilt sinks into his stomach and settles there all the same.

not amused by his brother's teasing tone, his eyes narrow as a disgruntled frown takes over his lips.*

whadd'y--

*he then catches a glimpse of the mirror in the closet beyond him, spotting his own visage for the first time since entering the room. not only do his clothes look ridiculous, but his hair has turned from silver to platinum, blonde as his brother's. his pink face pales in aghast as he sputters:*

aw, what the hell?!

[descendsanathema]

*It wasn't a threat, but Kalluto was still completely caught off guard by the appearance of his brother. He stands up and strides towards Killua, the hand in front of his face briefly dropping to his side before moving to gracefully adjust the fit of his cap. He was nervous, still not sure if he was holding out hope that what he heard in the shower was real, or hoping that it was imagination. Was Killua reacting this way because of how ridiculous they both looked... or because he knew?*

I'm a sailor. What are you supposed to be? *Kalluto asked, genuinely curious, since his brother's occupation was not obvious.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua steps past kalluto to gawk at himself in the mirror, vainly plucking at the unruly locks of his hair as if the offending color might come off on his fingers. when it doesn't, he heaves an exasperated sigh and turns back to his brother with an indignant pout.*

i guess i'm just ken.

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto pivoted, letting Killua brush past him, and smirked as Killua fussed over his hair. He took a few steps to stand closer to him, catching himself admiring Killua's physique through their clothes as he scrutinised his reflection.

The dark look his brother wore reminded him of just before he saw the "Sailor" plaque on the door he used to enter here. Chuckling, Kalluto was sure that he could salvage the situation.*

Hi, Ken! You wanna be my first mate?

[devil_or_angle]

*one cheerful little tease and killua's smoldering temper is effectively put out with a light huff, lips twisting into a slight smirk as he folds his arms over his curtained chest and cocks a brow beneath blond bangs.*

what, do you have a ship?

*if his baby brother wants to play dolls, he'll play along.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto could barely contain his excitement as Killua's look improved. The deadliest pirate crew there ever was! He shuffled back and forth on his feet.*

Well...

*Kalluto stepped away from Killua, up to the edge of the floor they were on, sure that he could see a beach on the horizon in that direction. He looked back at his brother over his shoulder.*

We could... find one?

[devil_or_angle]

*the thrill in kalluto's eyes when killua takes his bait is as much a reward as he needs, the guilt from before finally beginning to dissolve into tentative relief. kalluto doesn't seem to be acting any different around him, not angry or disgusted like he reasonably should be -- maybe he really hadn't heard what he'd done.*

sure, but first let me change into something less... this.

*he gestures down at his gaudy getup then peers over his shoulder at the closet that will hopefully be his salvation.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto's breath hitches in a strange way when his brother mentions changing. The puzzling feeling is compounded when he takes Killua by the wrist and leads him to the shadowboard, and he can't take his eyes off of Killua's crackling blues, only when they're finally in front of it and he needs to introduce to to him.*

Well, there is a lot you can do with accessories, we don't have to match, since these were all made for-

*A moment passes, and he realises these accessories are unmistakably suited to Killua's outfit. He isn't surprised by the sharktooth necklaces, but among them are bone trophies of creatures Kalluto could never have imagined. There are wrist and ankle bracelets, strung with tiny teeth, with shells, ivory, and beads of a variety of colours. A deep azure pendant, hanging in the middle, catches his eye, and he notices the attached string's length can be adjusted to fit wherever is needed.*

-you.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua eyes the selection of accessories behind the plastic screen with disdain. sure, the bones look kind of cool, but they won't solve the pressing problem at hand.*

i'm not looking for accessories, i need a whole new outfit.

*he grimaces down at his striped ensemble again, plucking at the open shirt which completely lacks buttons to close it over his bare torso.*

something less... revealing. and less pink?

[descendsanathema]

*Turning to Killua again, Kalluto strokes the fabric of his shirt, rubbing it between his fingers.*

But it's a good material. And it won't be ruined if you get it wet...

*Keeping hold of it, not aware at all of how much more of his brother's chest he's revealing, Kalluto turns to the shadow board again, looking at the frame carefully.*

For outfits, maybe you can look... here?

*After running his other hand along the bottom of the frame, he found a large button that clicked when he pressed it upwards, against the frame. The set of shadowboards swivelled on their base. Once he realised what was going on, Kalluto quickly grabbed the pendant that he'd noticed, releasing the delicate grip on his brother's shirt as casually as he'd taken it.*

[devil_or_angle]

*killua hastily clutches the shirt back to his chest as soon as kalluto lets it go, flustered by his apparent lack of concern for his brother's modesty, which he's very much trying to keep intact around him. at kalluto's prompting, the board inside the frame flips, revealing another full set of clothing and accessories. this time it's all denim, baby blue jeans and a matching sleeveless vest with frayed edges. still no shirt, but the color's definitely an improvement. killua rubs his chin, inspecting suspiciously it through narrowed eyes.*

i guess that's a little better...

*as if reacting to his reluctant feelings of approval, the outfit in the case suddenly vanishes and reappears on killua's body in a flurry of cartoonish sparkles, replacing the one he arrived in. he glances into the mirror to see that it somehow fits him perfectly, vest squarely framing his still-bare chest and jeans hanging low on his hips to reveal a waistband reading "KEN" over and over in conspicuous black letters.*

...yeesh.

[descendsanathema]

*Once Kalluto had pocketed the stone, he watched as the shadowboards turned. He looked at what was on offer, then at Killua's face of abject disappointment, and then his begrudging admission, probably pleased that it just wasn't pink, and Kalluto laughed, keeping it mostly behind his hand until the outfit magically and instantly appeared on Killua.

When he'd composed himself, Kalluto stepped to the front of Killua, now standing between him and the new suite of accessories. A finger traced down Killua's chest, stopping with the edge of his fingernail tucked barely at the waistband behind an instance of the lettering.*

I guess you really are Ken. Do you think the airship picked a name for me, too?

[devil_or_angle]

*at kalluto's teasing touch, killua gulps down a hot drizzle of arousal that follows the path traced down to his stomach, but, curiously, stops and settles there, not venturing beneath his waistband the way his brother's fingertip is. with a conspicuous clearing of his throat, he tugs his jeans up by the belt loops, jerking hips bumping kalluto's finger free.*

why don't you check your underwear and find out?

*he immediately regrets his hasty, haughty retort, face flushing anew at the realization he's just invited kalluto to undress just as he is trying to share as little skin with him as possible.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto withdrew his hand, following then extending the motion of Killua pulling up his jeans. He felt a rush of excitement at Killua's challenge, but found it odd to not feel it all over his body, just in his chest. As he remembered one of the last things he'd said to his brother in the field, the excitement grew, but still didn't spread.*

It's different if we're brothers, right?

*Kalluto lifted up his shirt, revealing a hot pink belt with nylon webbing, and also most of his chest, then suspiciously looked over each shoulder in turn before looking at his brother.*

Let me know if anyone's looking, okay? *he said as he undid the belt, letting his trousers fall unceremoniously around his ankles.

In the mirror, he saw that his underwear was black, with a repeating pattern of grey anchors stamped across the whole thing. Sure enough, the waistband - bone coloured with a plain back type face for the words - read 'Sailor Ken'.*

[devil_or_angle]

*as kalluto begins to strip without a second thought, killua's mind goes into overdrive, panicking over how to react without rousing suspicion. he doesn't want to look directly at him, but looking away would make him seem more weird, because as kalluto clearly believes, this shouldn't be weird between brothers. he's already seen kalluto naked plenty of times before, in his hazy memories of their childhood. but like he realized back in the field, a lot has changed since then, and he can't help but feast his eyes on his brother's pert backside as his pants fall to the floor.

once again he's left feeling strangely frustrated by the sight, and not just toward himself for feeling anything about this at all. the arousal that usually would have him tingling in his own trousers stops just short of satisfaction, lingering in his gut with the guilt. he casts his gaze back and forth, pretending to be serving his duty as lookout, but the only one looking is him. he reads the text off his waistband with a snort.*

guess that answers that.

[descendsanathema]

*Satisfied with knowing his name, Kalluto let go of his shirt, allowing it to hang past his waist, covering his underwear. He flicked one of his legs, kicking off one boot, then the other, both of which should probably have been tied up with laces. He stepped out of his pants, taking a step closer to his brother.*

I don't like the trousers, honestly. It feels the same as my robes but not quite...

Hey, you hate that vest, right? I think it looks good, but maybe you'd be less embarrassed just taking it off?

[devil_or_angle]

*killua takes a small but noticeable step back as kalluto approaches, leaving his trousers behind. modest by contrast, killua clutches his vest to his chest with a hot-faced glower.*

no way. i’m trying to put on more clothes, not less.

*he nods his head to the pair of sailor pants left discarded on the ground behind kalluto, retorting,*

why don’t you just poof yourself some other pants, if you don’t like those?

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto notices his brother's step back in his periphery, more interested in how scandalised Killua looks. He takes a moment to properly think about the question, but decides to just act instead.

He walked away from Killua, now, looking out to the beach, trying his best to catch the breeze that had suddenly come on.*

Suit yourself... I want to feel the ocean air on my legs. It feels... nice, Killua. I don't think the magic works if I don't want anything besides that breeze touching my skin.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua watches his brother closely as he turns away, glimpsing flashes of those black underpants as the breeze ripples the edge of his shirt. now that he's no longer in immediate danger of being stripped, he relinquishes his grip on his vest, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans.*

shorts, then, *he suggests gruffly, still uncomfortably flushed and frustrated by the sight of his brother's long, pale legs, strutting on display after he'd so recently fantasized about them wrapping around his waist.*

[descendsanathema]

*Kalluto stretched his arms out, rolled his shoulders back, stretched his chest too. His contented groans against the air licking and lashing at his legs and neck were stifled by a snort, which froze his motions, too. He could picture the pout on his brother's face to match his voice without turning around to face him.

He brought his arms out again. There was a deep carnality about how engrossed he was in this, but there was something missing to it. As he reflected on what that might be, a -poof- sound and accompanying frizzle of dust happened all around his shirt just as it vanished. He shrugged his shoulders, groaning louder, now, wondering if he could handle an actual ocean breeze, the spray of sea mist, the unconscious straining and flexing he'd be doing on an unstable deck as it moved through water...*

It's fine. If people see me, they'll still know I'm a sailor.

*Kalluto turned around, pointing generally at his neck and above.*

See? Still got the cap and neckerchief.

[devil_or_angle]

*killua can barely believe his eyes, his fantasies slowly materializing as kalluto plays right into them, letting the rest of his outfit vanish in a puff of glitter. unable to restrain his curiosity, his hungry gaze maps the constellation of marks across his shoulders, following the trickling path down the slope of his back to the emblazoned waistband of his underpants. he turns, baring his front to him now, pointing cheekily at his little remaining clothing as if he knows exactly what he's doing.*

come on, you're not going to go out like that... right?

*the response comes out weaker than he'd hoped, tone wavering between stern disapproval and abject helplessness.*

[descendsanathema]

*Seeing the look in Killua's eyes properly, Kalluto got a little worried for how concerned he looked. Walking closer to him, Kalluto took a gentle grip of his brother's wrists, keeping them held to his side, their bodies close enough to share heat but not touching.*

Hey, I'm just kidding. None of these people are real. And if they tried to touch me, I can kill them.

*Keeping his hands by the side, he rests his head on his brother's shoulder, pressing his chest against theirs.*

No one's allowed to touch me, right?

*They're very close, and Kalluto is engrossed in it, even enjoying it more than he expected. Distantly, he feels as though the last time their bodies were this close together, there was something else present, something urgent and imminent that imposed its presence on this moment. He tried not to think about it, in case that line of thinking would somehow make it come back.*