Tenth Designation

[just_a_commoner]

WHAT: Haruhi's dream!
WHO: Haruhi and you! Yes. You.
WHEN: Any time during the nighttime hours thurs-sun

The scene is a large music room whose decorations can't really decide on what they want to be. One moment it's an accurately humid and dense rainforest, the next a lavishly decorated Sultan's palace, and then a mad tea party with rose bushes and little plush mice here and there poking their heads out of tea kettles. The room was busy with girls, giggling and enjoying whatever sweets or drinks were available with the current theme.

Haruhi was milling about, mostly in awe of the decorations. While extremes seemed to be common with her, they always took her by surprise, and she felt that she had to acknowledge the work that... who was it that set these things up, anyway? It didn't really matter, anyway, because she was alone for the time being, apparently waiting for something. Is it you?

Comments

[milestoturn.livejournal.com]

It doesn't matter how he's dressed, because at one moment he's in the robes of an Arabian prince, and the next he's wearing something akin to what one would see if Prosecutor Miles Edgeworth walked out of Lewis Carroll. There are enough ruffles in either costume for anyone to believe that it's him, however.

He waves a gloved finger at the approaching girl, showing his disappointment. His gesture matches the scowl on his face as he peers at her from behind thin-wire rimmed glasses.

"You're late."

[just_a_commoner]

Whatever excitement Haruhi might have felt at the prospect of having a customer was quickly wiped off when he spoke. Late?! Late for what? "I...I'm sorry?" She asked, trying to search her mind for what she could possibly be late for. "I'm sorry, I hadn't realized that my schedule was so full." She gave an uneasy laugh and indicated to a small tea table, "Shall we sit? I'll make sure you're compensated for any time that I've wasted."

[milestoturn.livejournal.com]

The man in the magenta jacket does not look impressed.

"I'll be sure to be the one reviewing your next salary assessment," he replies firmly, as if he had complete power over whatever it is that he's talking about. The whole thing is rather debatable.

He waits for her to pull out the chair for him to sit.

[just_a_commoner]

Somehow it seemed to make sense, as nonsense in dreams does sometimes. "R-Right. Sorry, sir." She politely pulled his chair out for him and smiled up at him eagerly. "You look nice. This is a wonderful color for you, if you don't mind my saying so."

[milestoturn.livejournal.com]

"I can't say I'm fond of this jacket, but your compliment does not fall upon deaf ears," he replies smoothly, as if he's done this a thousand times before. He lays the suitcase he has (which, he might have had when she first saw him, it's difficult to tell) on the table, causing the tea set to clank.

"We have business to conduct."

[just_a_commoner]

Haruhi blinks and stares wide-eyed at the briefcase that was set on the table. Though somehow none of the tea was spilled. Dream physics. "Business?" She asks, a frown coming across her face. "W-What kind of business? Doesn't Kyouya-sempai handle that...?" She cranes her neck and looks around for the bespectacled Host Club manager.

[milestoturn.livejournal.com]

"No, this is merely between you and me," Miles says cooly, adjusting his glasses. "It's about the trial yesterday."

[just_a_commoner]

"Trial?" oh! was she a lawyer in this dream? She nodded and sat up straight. "r-Right, Well what did you have to say?" Maybe he was consulting her, or congratulating her for a job well done!

[milestoturn.livejournal.com]

Miles looks up from his papers, takes off his glasses and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Things don't look good for you, are you sure you don't remember what happened? If we can't find a piece of evidence pointing in another direction, you'll be convinced."

[growinmushrooms]

Tamaki stumbled into the Third Music Room, and the silver platter he was carrying the tea service on rattled. That would never do, he thought at himself sternly, and glanced down to be certain that everything was as it ought to be. Teacups... silver tray... a natty butler's vest on his bare chest, bands of flowers wrapped around his arms, and in his reflection in the tea, that was undoubtedly a turban atop his head.

He paused, frozen by a momentary fear, however improbable it might be. What if... no. But what if... no.

What if he looked ridiculous, dressed like this?

[just_a_commoner]

Haruhi was hiding, though not where she couldn't keep a close eye on Tamaki. She was clearly trying to avoid the embarrassment and shame that she had experienced in the last dream she had been in. However, there was very little hiding herself in the dense forest, for not only was she wearing a bright, colorful headdress of fruits, but the stark white and bright red of her miko uniform would have easily given her away.

[growinmushrooms]

Tamaki tried to move with the stealth and grace of a proper butler... or sultan-butler-jungle-native... without quite as much success as he had hoped. By the time he had finished serving the tea, Haruhi was simply a floating bruit basket in the forest, and he set down the tray, made his excuses, and hurried after her with rather less concern for delicacy of movement than usual.

"Ah... Haru-hiiiii....."

[just_a_commoner]

Ah! Dammit! She'd been seen! She ducked behind a large tree and took off into the forest, stumbling over the overgrown roots and fallen foliage, dropping a steady trail of fruit as she went. Just how deep was this forest? It seemed that as soon as the thought left her mind, Haruhi's foot caught a brick and sent her forward onto her face. When she looked up, she found herself in a cafe setting inside the Third Music Room. She pulled herself to her feet and looked around at all of the tables, each of them occupied save for one with the most outrageous, outlandish decorations she'd ever seen in her life.

A gigantic glittering heart centerpiece with a bright pink tablecloth and bits of heart confetti and rose petals covering the surface of the table. Yes. It was ridiculous, but it was her only hope of escape. She swallowed her pride and ran to the table, ducking underneath it.