( 人斬り以蔵 ) — ᴍᴀɴsʟᴀʏᴇʀ ɪᴢᴏᴜ. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hitokiller) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
synflux2023-12-11 09:55 pm
hitokiller) wrote in synflux2023-12-11 09:55 pm
( open ) unfortunately, about me
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.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.
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.
█ 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.
001, semi-wildcard.
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...
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
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. ]
no subject
Nnh.
( nice. some sort of response, and another swimming, stabbing pain to the head.
izou blinks a couple times in all his distant, hazy focus, and only then does he finally begin to perceive... that this pole is a presence, an actual person that he's been clinging to shamelessly for comfort. as he pushes back with both hands in alarm for a little space, heart lurching and face pink for a completely different reason now, the implant reacts to his surprise. or to the feedback from his visual stimuli, to be more precise, feeding bits of information directly to his brain... a name most importantly.
it's only now that he also looks up and away from that chest with half-lidded eyes full of a dazed bewilderment. )
Y-You're... 'th one he...
( he literally shouts his discovery for all to hear: )
You're Renren!
no subject
Ren stands still for the longest time, waiting for Izou's brain to catch up with what he sees just so he can process the situation at hand. He barely reacts when the shorter man pushes away for that tiny bit of space, beastly red eyes observing him curiously. It would have been fine to leave him be now that he's more awake, but —
Y-You're... 'th one he...
And then, there's that name. ]
What makes you think you can call me with that name?
no subject
( yap yap yap.
he bristles at the response, taking blade's (rightful) attitude as a personal affront. it's an easy something to correct, too, given that izou saw his ACTUAL name and is just calling him another based on a recommendation, based on how easier it rolls off the tongue—but now? forget it. even the gentle shake of literally just moments ago is but a snowflake scattered amongst the sky... quick to evaporate in the dry space between his ears.
there's a pause, and then he snorts, a derisive cackle at a certain something just dawning on him: )
Uhyahaha! Didn't expect such a big guy to have such a cute name, tho. Renren. Heh.
no subject
But now that it looks like Izou can handle himself, Ren lets him go to let him stand on his own. His eyes are narrowed ever so slightly, annoyed but not quite pissed off enough to do anything beyond a muted glare. ]
It's barely my name. [ If anything, he'd rather not have one of his own anymore. ] Did a man named Jing Yuan put you up to this?
[ Who else would suggest to call him like this? ]
no subject
( he trails off for a second, actually way too drunk for this. light-bulb off.
then with a mocking curl of the lip, the light-bulb is clearly back on. )
Said you're the one I oughta take my blade to for... for some sparrin' practice.
( a fact he finds terribly amusing for some reason. his left hand starts to fiddle with the handle of a katana tucked into his hakama, but he can't quite get a good grip despite picturing the slashing arc it ought to take in his mind's eye. )
no subject
He barely moves when the other man tries to reach for his katana. Not a single part of him feels threatened. ]
I'll pass. You can barely stand on your own two feet right now.
[ It isn't going to be worth the effort, at this point. ]
I'm not interested in a one-sided fight.
no subject
but only for a second.
izou's brow furrows at the rejection in the next instant, his canine teeth flashing as his jaw moves to say something before stopping, making it obvious how confused he is by the whole affair. barely stand on his own two feet? pshhhh.
he makes a disapproving, clicking noise with his tongue, and then, flush still creeping across his cheeks: )
I get it, I get it. This Jing Yuan went 'n foisted ah, a... real pushover on me. All for the better you bow out, though. Wouldn't wannah, have a hole in yer neck or anything.
( there wasn't any foisting, though. just izou intruding on a stranger's personal space. anyway, he's going to attempt to turnnn the other way after being all knifecat. )
no subject
If it helps you to think of it that way, so be it.
[ He should walk away. This isn't any of his business, after all, and he's not sure he wants to listen to the other man throwing more slights. ]
Go home and sober up.
no subject
shrinking away from his challenge... basically meant... he's scared of izou, right? right??? there's a shared understanding here—no, a one-sided understanding, that spreads through his inebriated haze and down to his hand, moving it away from his side and up to brush the heel of his palm against his nose as he breaks into a languid smile.
put another way, he's experiencing the dopamine rush of a drunken fool who thinks he's already won. )
I'm, ... perfectly—
( fine. maybe. whatever he says after that devolves quickly into slurred gibberish, feet practically dragging along the street as he actually listens and begins to make his way... somewhere. hopefully home, or what's considered home in the dying evening of this city anchored in distress.
when he finally stumbles far enough away, it's almost as if he were never there, as if his shape had merged perfectly with the crowds and the grey beneath the neon cityscape. )