( open ) unfortunately, about me

[hitokiller]

WHO: Anyone and everyone.
WHAT: Izou being Izou.
WHERE: The busy streets of Shinjuku, what's left of the Nishimuki Tenjinsha shrine in Shinjuku, a run-down looking 7-10, etc.

WHEN: Sometime near the tail-end of the first week.
WARNINGS: Mild violence (right now), severe intoxication.

█ 001, "some people make us feel more human". —

Gerroffa me, you—!

( the sounds of a struggle ensue, and suddenly a couple well-dressed gentlemen are shoving the offender out the club's door. it's pretty obvious he's a bit far-gone with the way he stumbles backwards, arms raises as if to protect himself or perhaps start throwing a mean punch. he doesn't get very far with the idea though, a quick swing of his arm completely missing its target to the irritation of the bouncers who were holding back as best they could. ) 

T-Try'na... laugh at me. I'll show ya... I'll show ya ALL! I don't forget anyhone... anyone who, crosses my...

( izou quickly discovers how difficult it is to move his mouth properly, visibly flabbergasted at how rapidly his words are starting to slur despite how often he's been through this song-and-dance. it's a familiar strangeness, a something he might find easier to digest as a problem if he weren't so horribly far-gone by most people's standards while a majority of those passing by opt to ignore his cursing and outbursts at the door. gradually, slowly, the chatty drunk realizes that no one's paying him any mind, and, with a couple exaggerated movements, places himself closer to the side of the street against a cold street-light. anything to keep the world from turning for a minute. anything to give him a little comfort.

he'll just... totally get up and leave, any minute now. with a groan, his head starts drooping against the steel that is clearly not designed to be a pillow, hands crawling clumsily up it for support. he's absolutely about to fall asleep in the middle of the city. ) 


█ 002, "and some people make us feel less human". —

( here, the ever present hum of the city was more faint, and the historic and solemn stone entryway of the temple, adorned with carved pillars and cracks, seemed all the more impressive in the darkness. in fact, one would even call it serene when compared to the hustle and bustle of neo-tokyo, so much so that it's a wonder a spot like this hasn't been entirely torn apart given its proximity to such ruin on the outskirts of shinjuku. tall stalks of grass blow delicately in a breeze, the inherent sensuality of their presence enough to beguile any visitor into venturing up the short steps and into the sacred.

it was easier to breathe here, and those with the courage to approach further into the center of the complex this late at night would see the triumphant emergence of greenery amidst the prayer chambers—new life among wood stained by time and rain. scenery worth committing to memory for anyone who might be losing hope. a glimpse into a world full of air for all who were suffocating.

yes... the perfect spot for some respite, if only a certain man hadn't been tailing behind whatever stranger came here for some peace of mind.

for izou, the night is far from suffocating—it's pleasant, full of sheltered places covered in withered leaves and welcoming to the quick manner his feet move familiarly on the ground without making a sound. a man in his element, aided by an abnormal adeptness in concealing his presence, listening carefully for the slightest shift in movement, the gentle smack of nervous lips. if he weren't so hungry, a cold reminder of how flippantly he tossed his cash around already, the thrill of stalking would bring an even bigger grin to his face... but whatever.

moments later, the soft clink of a blade being unsheathed could be heard as he raised it towards the back of his prey. )

Better start walkin' with a friend at night. Now, take out your valuables.

* alternatively, for those who aren't okay with being surprised and/or more than capable of noticing him following you despite the reduced effectiveness of his presence concealment skill: just assume you caught him before this.


█ 003, "and that is a fact as much as gravity is a fact". —

( it's a convenience store. you know. sickeningly bright, and with the same song looping for the past hour or so. it's the witching hour, and whoever shuffled in was probably just hungry... or bored.

a scrunkly-looking gentleman in an apron at the counter watches whoever's browsing with an impatient expression, a clock in the far-corner wall ticking needlessly the only other sound aside from the shop jingle. after a good ten minutes he smacks a hand down on the counter, shattering the banal background noise with his scratchy voice. )

I'm sick of ya criss-crossin' between shelves like a chicken with it's head chopped off. Buy somethin' or leave.

( my smoke break... )

* Anyone from Brimstone, feel free to recognize Izou from his loud demeanor around their commons.

Comments

002

[saudadist]

[ Kamakura gave her an appreciation for shrines. They're quiet, isolated, peaceful despite the din of civilization just down the steps or across the street. She didn't check the name of this temple before coming in. She didn't feel the need. For one who's never really given much thought to the relationship between the sacred and the profane, these grounds are just a nice place to appreciate a rare moment of quiet.

Except, she never takes the night air as inherently peaceful. There has never been a night where she felt at peace, calm, safe. It proves to be a boon tonight with a blade unsheathing behind her. How long was she aware of him? This stranger in the dark. Truthfully, she hadn't expected him to come so close, but as long as he's outside two meters, he's safe. That's what she tells herself as she sighs, silent. ]

Don't get close to me. It's not wise.

[hitokiller]

( a drop of water hanging from a limp weed slides down and into the earth, merging with the darkness. )

Hah. Pretty mouthy for someone with yer back wide open.

( even with a scarf drawn close to his neck, something nags at him in the evening chill. a feeling that emerges in recollection from a life spent observing people for long periods of time, for their anger and their body language—a skill developed while staring death in the face, blood dried brown caked on his face. perhaps it could be called a sixth sense for danger, though there doesn't seem to be anything coming his way save that warning. strange. jaw unflinching, he gives the smaller stranger one more look, another intense gaze, to see if he notices anything intimidating about their pose.

it's difficult to tell, which makes it all the more annoying.

izou drives the feeling back down with a slow exhale, turning the one-handed grip of his katana at an angle in an awkward, unrefined style all his own. a continued show of intimidation. )

I'll be the judge of that.

( a normal person would just ask for a hand-out, but here we are... )

[saudadist]

[ She can't think of any time she saw a real katana before. That one's pointed at her now is almost funny for its novelty. Almost, but not quite. The only expression on her face as she turns toward her would-be assailant is the same dour look as always, her lips set in a grim line. ]

I mean it.

[ Her statement is punctuated by the rushing of air and the slap of something, several somethings, against the ground. Four handprints face him in the dirt, dug in deep as if pressed down by heavy hands. ]

001

[cranekin]

(His footsteps are quiet but not in a suspicious or ulterior sort of way; he's just naturally light on his feet and the rubber soles of these new, modern shoes are much softer than the solid, and heavy lacquer of his typical wear.

The man that approaches Izou is tall and cleanly dressed— a fresh pair of shoes, neat jeans, a large puffy white sweater, and a bright red scarf wrapped stylishly around his neck. Really, each item isn't special on its own given how basic LILITH had been in treating them but he's somehow managed to put everything together in a way that just looks... better. In the dark, he just seems bright with how white and light his clothes are.

Tsurumaru tilts his head curious to one side when he sees Izou fumbling about, eyes bright and curious, behavior almost birdlike as he studies him and lightly speaks, )

My, what a mess.

(He keeps his distance. He doesn't get any closer. He's content to just watch from here, )

You'll catch a cold out here like that.

[hitokiller]

( white flashes, sparkles, beautiful beyond description. and then it's gone.

gone? no. not gone.

it's standing... standing a little ways off, or so izou can tell with a cheek smeared against the pole, practically hugging it, his breath coming out somewhat ragged. a person? it's hard to tell. his head swims like an unconscious sea as he tries to make sense of whoever's talking to him, clearly reluctant to let go of what's supporting his weight. step by mental step, he gradually starts to climb, the glint of signs and the red of buses all mixing together in his field of vision.

that white among the crowd, though... it isn't moving. as izou squints, his eyes begin to focus a bit better. just a smidgeon enough to make out the unmoving silhouette of a man. )

A-A ghost...?

( hotoke-sama, if you're out there... help. )

I ain't lookin', to die, again...

[cranekin]

You have to die to be a ghost.

(And despite his closeness to death, he has never died. He's just a spirit of a different sort. But now he wonders if he may be observing a ghost himself. "Die, again?" What an interesting choice of words and his eyes narrow ever so slightly as he studies the man more closely.

(Still, he does not approach to help.)

A mess of a man. A drunkard. A truly pitiful soul. An accent that sounds so reminiscent of a certain spirit back home... )

Well, come along, then.

(He raises a hand in the air and beckons for Izou to come closer,)

You know what they say about the cold. When you go still, death comes.

(The air isn't nearly that cold but isn't the city cold in its own way, too?

As if to draw Izou's attention, he brings his hands together and claps; once, twice, three times, four again, and again, like a parent steadily beating for a child to follow, steadily chanting,)

Yo - sa - ko - i~, yo - sa - ko - i~ ♪

hi

[eepy]

[ jing yuan doesn't miss the way the other man was shoved out of the establishment, pausing in his tracks on his way back to the base. it doesn't take one to be the divine foresight to know that he's clearly drunk, the stumbling around and the swaying more than enough for him to make that conclusion.

he gives it a moment or two, watching the male lean against the lamppost, stagger around, probably telling himself that he'll get up in one, two—nope, he just falls against the metal pole like a young berrypheasant sireling.

with a chuckle, he peers over him before hands reach out and wrap around his arm, hauling him to his two feet. ]

Haha, up you go. Perhaps you can show them when you've returned to the realm of sobriety.

jy jumpscare

[hitokiller]

O-Onh...

( is that simply a groan or some sort of response? hard to tell.

izou's eyes flash brightly for a split second, his implant whirring madly in an attempt to recognize whoever was making polite conversation as they hauled him upright, alas to no avail. the combination of his head swimming, the flickering LEDs, sleepy eyelids, and a tear welling up in the corner of his eye made it impossible to focus. )

Why're, ya...

( it seems he's at least registered the kind act, not struggling within his flushed stupor to push away whoever'd advanced on him just yet. )

ssh time to wipe your tears away

[eepy]

[ if he's in any way noticed the way his eyes turn watery at the sight of him, jing yuan makes no remark about it as his hands steady the other male next to him, holding him firmly to keep him from keeling or tipping over. he's always of the belief that liquor is only the enemy if you're unable to hold it.

just as one should be able to hold whatever remains in his stomach until they've found a suitable place to expel it all. ]

Why indeed. [ perhaps because the streets are dangerous, even more so for those who don't belong here. ] Would you not prefer to fall asleep somewhere soft and warm and comfortable? Like a bed, for instance, that's not covered in snow and dirt.

[ stop being a hobo, izou. ]

003

[nutkick]

[ between boredom and hunger— denji is a mix of both dismay, and that's why he's pacing around the local store instead of curling up under the blanket on his bed. it's unlike him to be this indecisive, but he didn't have a lot of cash in his pocket and he's torn between spending it on a nice treat or saving for a rainy day; the struggles of poverty never left him and it followed him to this new city as well.

he didn't pay attention to the staff once stepping in, not until the man started yelling at his direction— in which denji exhaled a tired 'huh?', giving him nothing more than a weary stare. yeah, he's unfazed by the outburst. ]

... what's your problem?

[ last time he checked there is no time limit to shop unless it's closing time, and he's pretty sure this place is supposed to be open 24/7. ]

[hitokiller]

Never you mind none.

( he's got to give it to the kid, though. izou's verbal assault didn't cause him to flinch or stutter any. well, whatever.

still, he's jonesing for that fifth break and the peace one can only obtain when they're crouched in a squat outside their workplace fondling a cigarette between two fingers. standing around here in an apron when the system should honestly just pay him to be here was humiliating. a killer like himself... a killer like himself wasn't meant to integrate. wasn't meant to have a normal life. )

Tch. What's a kid like you doin' out here this late, anyhow?

( his eyes flicker, the implant whirring as it identifies his customer with digital clicks. another agent of LILITH, huh. )

They don't got what you're lookin' for closer t'home? This bein' outta the way and all.

[nutkick]

Can't sleep. I'm craving something sweet ...

[ he confessed with a flat tone, hunching forward so he could stare over the popsicle options behind the glass window. he points and counts on each flavor, only four on sight, and then he starts considering his preferred option between cheery or blueberry. a tough choice, indeed.

if he knew he was in a closed space with an irritated killer, perhaps he'd be more aware of himself, guard up and all— but so far, izou merely comes off as someone who hates his fucking job. since denji plans to linger around some more, he decides to be more merciful with the poor employee. ]

You can go ahead and take your break. Smoke or take a piss, whatever. I won't steal anything. I promise.

[ he can see denji's face, clearly, so izou is free to hunt him down if he breaks that pledge. ]

003

[notscar]

[ not leona's fault izou wasn't paying attention, and knowing that he's that irritated by someone exploring the aisles of the store? it only fuels the beastman's need to push on the man who looks like he could use more than just a smoke break. he looks like he needs a drink. not that leona would know the feeling, he simply Gets It.

so as he raises his head, only his ears probably pop up above the shelves. ]

I'm lookin' for somethin' specific. Do ya mind?

[ yes. they should both be semi-familiar with each other. probably. ]

[hitokiller]

( oh, he minds. he minds because this job is shit, and the oft-coveted smoke break is his only solace from mindlessly filing the magazine racks for hours!!!

a service bot nearby starts to beep and fidget nervously as his hackles rise, but izou simply ignores it. half the "staff" here at any given time are mechanical, and poorly serviced to boot. he gives it a quick clonk on the head, a totally safe way to get it back on track with rotating those corn dogs. don't even worry about it, stevie.

anywho, izou does recognize leona and the way they might've passed each other without a proper glance, as was the early custom in their quarters. you could cut the tension in brimstone with a knife. )

Tch. Well, you're not gonna find it in here. How 'bout the pet store a couple blocks down?

[notscar]

[ poor stevie. doomed to a life of corndog rotation, but you know what? it's probably doing the best that it possibly can. consider that bonk the kind of fast-acting anxiety prescription that only a robot can endure! how kind of izou to give it a quick fix.

the question makes him huff as he stands up straight, a smirk lining his features. ]

Based on what I'm seein', are you sure I'm not already there? Seein' as you'd make a good mascot an' all.

[ sorry corn dogs. ]

001, semi-wildcard.

[sparse]

[ Except the streetlight he decides to lean against isn't exactly a streetlight.

Ren looks down at the man that is now clinging to him haphazardly, half-considering shaking him off for a split-second before he decides to leave him be. He sighs. It's probably a good thing that he recognizes the other as someone from LILITH's base, what with how hard it is to miss him given how loud he can be. But that's as far as it goes.

He doesn't even know his name since he hasn't bothered to read through the data entries yet. (Note to self: do it later.) ]

Don't fall asleep out here.

[ Says the guy who is now the designated lamp post. ]

sorry for my crimes...

[hitokiller]

( listen. streetlight's aren't 'sposed to talk...

but this fact hasn't quite dawned on izou yet, shapes dissolving and rejoining in his current peripheral vision, the kind (?) advice barely registering as a vibration amongst all the sounds pulsating in the background. he squints at the pounding discomfort in his head as sharp and unbearably white flashes in the shape of modified cars peel down the street. this neo-tokyo is a thankless world for the most part.

but what world was rewarding?

nevermind all that. he's too far-gone for any fancy-pants philosophy nonsense.

his head nods forward into the streetlight, tired, flimsy, vulnerable, and it's soft. unusually soft for a structure that's supposed to be made of steel. hmm. wonder why. it's nice, though. )

never be sorry

[sparse]

[ Streetlights aren't supposed to talk, but this one does.

This one also stares down at the man pressing his face against his chest, as if not realizing that he isn't exactly dealing with an actual streetlight here. Ren thinks about how this isn't the first time something like this has happened since he arrived here. Maybe there's just something about Neo-Tokyo's alcohol that makes others lose sight of their rationality.

He sighs. One hand settles on Izou's shoulder before he shakes him lightly. ]

Wake up.

[ He could also shove him off, but that'll be his last resort. ]

003

[kubricks]

But I haven’t found what I’m looking for yet.

[Makima says with a curious expression when she turns back to the loud somewhat recognizable cashier. She might be recognizable too, not only do they share a dorm, but the rooms are right next to each other.]

And I don’t think I would’ve described it that way either…

[Honestly any less than flattering description probably would’ve gotten the same comment from her.]

[hitokiller]

( a straightforward response. and sure enough, he does recognize her as she turns around to correct him. not only his neighbor, but a fellow agent of LILITH.

that fact alone probably isn't going to change his attitude much, though it is a little awkward to be caught something as routine as customer service when they were summoned here for a greater purpose. supposedly.

aughhhh, fine. he'll do his job already. )

What's it you're lookin' for this late at night, then?

( the pitch of his tenuous rumble of a voice is higher now. scratchy. )

02

[wheft]

[ ishmael's never checked out a shrine before. they're usually temples of worship, and unless you belong to some shady cult in the City, there's no reason to visit one and ask for blessings from the gods above. gods, after all, no longer exist where she's from.

but she will admit that the atmosphere around here has been nice. peaceful places like these are uncommon where she's from, and with the wintry night air breezing through the trees, it almost feels like everything is going to be all right.

of course, that feeling is not going to last. she was sure she's on her own when she got here, but the sudden clink of a blade gives her pause before huffing with a irritated tone. ]

...Do I look like I have money on me?

[ now, izou might find her familiar -- if not her sarcastic voice, then her exceptionally long and wavy orange hair might. there's only a handful of women in brimstone, after all. ]

[hitokiller]

( a fellow agent of LILITH, huh. being quartered together made it hard not to notice, especially with her presence being so strikingly red.

it adds a layer of complexity to the situation since he now realizes that he's got to be cautious not to cross any specific boundaries, even if killing her would be the most convenient way to not only end this little confrontation, but also to verify if she were telling the truth.

a leaf on the breeze passes between them, the flicker of its shadow on stone only serving to further highlight the tension. izou remains eerily still in the darkness, his one eye transfixed. )

How 'bout a lock of that hair, then? Curls that fair 're bound to fetch somethin'.

( a guy who has no qualms about asking a girl to lop her hair off. )

02

[cleansewithfire]

[ Normally, Sunrise would be in bed as per her typical schedule, but tonight she decided to change things up out of curiosity. Back home, you could never be too sure whether or not the gods were listening. It certainly didn't hurt to know at least a few different ones to pray to when you were on the road often enough.

So that's why she's at the shrine, curious to see what sort of gods the locals here believed in. Or...well, honestly, she got the impression that a lot of locals both believed in and simultaneously didn't put much stock in the gods. It seemed that the gods weren't actually real here as far as they were concerned, a notion that was alien to her. When she arrives at the temple, as peaceful as it is, she can't help but wonder if the god it was meant for felt lonely.

Maybe that's why she only notices she's not alone in the temple when she hears the sound of a blade being drawn. By then, it's a little too late to wonder how long he's been there. ]

...But I do not have any valuables.

[ She says this so calmly as if there isn't a blade being pointed at her, but it's true. Anything she had that she considered valuable did not make the trip to Neo-Tokyo with her, and her firearm was left at the base because she felt it was too conspicuous to carry around town until she found a new case for it. ]

[hitokiller]

( nothing. nothing at all?

everyone has something on their person. weapons. nails. hair. a feeling of being sad in the world, of being ready for sleep and the contentment that comes with it.

the eerie calm with which she regards him even with a blade drawn towards her back is notable. noble, even, to most, but to a man like izou steeped in the blood of many, it reeks of simple foolishness.

izou gives her another leisurely look-over as the ocular device gives his one eye an unsettling gleam, the perceived lack of concern arousing an innate curiosity in him. )

Come to pay your respects within nothin' on ya, then.

001

[notbymyside]

[Right about when he's about to pass out, that's when he'll feel a hand on his shoulder.]

Here, let's get you back home.

[It's a normal-looking man, kind of boring actually, wearing a brown suit and round glasses. It would be easy to mistake him for a random nobody from the crowd. He really has no business stopping to help Izou, and yet he is. Nobody wants to sleep on the ground, or so he assumes, and he figures this man is one of the newcomers too. Plus, he's carrying a sword, and it never hurts to help those who know how to fight.]