( OPEN ) FIGHTING CRIME BY MOONLIGHT

[transmit]

WHO: Every Outsider interested!
WHAT: Catch-all log for cleaning up (or making more of a mess of) Neo Tokyo's crime scene! Refer to the OOC post here for details. Neo Tokyo's current social and political climate can be found under the World / Setting section here.
WHERE: Neo Tokyo, Japan.
WHEN: Nov 2024 & onward.
WARNINGS: Violence, drug use, threats and coercion … whatever else that happens where crime and criminal activity are involved. Please mark for other CWs if necessary!


From the month of November and onward, Outsiders can find recruitment posters around the base for a specialised subsection of an anonymous Neo Tokyo security agency! Feel free to assume that's where most of the directives come from.

Current quests relating to this player plot can be found under < STREET FIGHTER > and < RISE AND THRIVE > on the QUEST BOARD.

People are free to use this log or their own for open and closed starters. However, if you'd like to contribute to the quest chain or setting changes, please remember to eventually submit your links and a summary under the associated quests! Otherwise, go wild!

Comments

[zauneyete]

[ Silco keeps the eye on him. It's an effect, really, wielded like a knife in the dark. He knows what it does, he knows how it works, and he uses it to effect when he wants to. In this case, he keeps staring at Izou for a long moment. Sure, he wouldn't doubt that he was the type to be mired in this world — he remembered running into him, covered in blood, and talking about dealing with issues — but he also knows that the muscle only knows one way.

His lips twitch into a knowing smile. The kind that isn't pleasant, or kind, but something that says: 'I perceive you, and know who you are' without saying a word at all. ]

You know once upon a time, I saw what warring gangs did to people. How they were so busy fighting each other, that they missed the greater threat from above. They weren't able to unify, or strengthen the people on the ground. Mind, our threat was... smaller than kaiju, just rampant poverty and putting the kids in mines.

But it's all the same, in the end. Dealing with this is something I can do to make the people here more self-sufficient. If we're going to be forced to solve this world's problems, at least this is something that I can actually do, as opposed to fighting Kaiju.

[ I mean. Look at him. But he sighs, and stubbed out his cigar on a lifted heel, before dropping it to the street. ]

They call me Mister Fissure. [ A slight smile. ] Organizations are all the same. I'm a bookkeeper for a separate organization.

[ He cooks the books, really. And he's surprisingly good at it. ]

[hitokiller]

Quit starin' at me with that eye already, before I go and pluck it right out of that socket.

( the longer he gawks pointedly with it, the more izou wants to fight back against the uncomfortable disquiet and scrape silco's face against the cold concrete of the alley. there's nothing he hates more than being scrutinized, after all, and the timid question from mere seconds ago gives rise to the familiar comfort of anger simmering within. who the hell's this scrawny piece of shit think he's talking to?

but then silco explains, and izou listens.

they're of the same ilk, after all, even if izou knows things aren't the same now. that he can do more right than before, and there are people here who want him to. )

Yeah? That's just history, more like it. The strong prey on the weak wherever you go, where my life was no different. People rose up against the powers that be, lookin' my way for someone to do good in their stead. Make some real change, bloodied hands and all to take out their opponents. But they discarded me real quick the second I got loud, and the ones that unified—

( the ones that cared too damn much, who were smarter and probably saw reason in leaving him behind— )

... Well. They went and died too.

( bah. what a gloomy ass conversation. )

... Anyway. Mine's Biscuit. Let's get a move on.

[zauneyete]

[ He almost points out that he can't not stare. It's kind of built into the whole thing, but Izou keeps talking.

He keeps talking, and Silco laughed. It's something sharp, and bitter. A short little thing, like a stab wound. ]

The more worlds I encounter, the more things always stay the same.

You aren't the first to be discarded the moment you're too loud, too inconvenient. [ He reached up and tapped that covered scar. ] Hm?

[ He doesn't elaborate, but he doesn't think he has to. He wonders to himself, how it is that every time he thinks he has it all figured out, people from these disparate worlds keep surprising him. ]

In the end, every small mind who can't stomach the possibility of progress all end the same. And yet, we're still here. Surviving despite it all.

So... [ Why does Biscuit sound like the name his daughter would give to one of her bombs? ] Biscuit. Are you ready to meet new people?

[ He started to cross the street, to head toward the door, running a hand through his hair before he knocked on the metal door, a few cold, sharp words about a gang, a name, an associate.

They have to wait several long moments, but at the end of things, the door lock slid, and they were allowed in. ]

[hitokiller]

After you, "Mister" Fissure.

( the inside brings unforgiving eyes, men practically groomed to be there with the infuriatingly casual way they fill it, hands wrapped around glasses and shoulders arched over the back of their chairs to witness whatever just walked in. there's an edge in each curt discussion, one that's sharp enough to cut, izou can tell. this place is the real deal. a den of scoundrels ready to roar to life at a moment's notice.

which is why when a guy intentionally bumps into izou's shoulder on the way over to his table, it's dangerously hard not to say anything. )

Why, you—

( "only" information. izou grits his teeth in response to a low and pleased laugh.

he can hold it in. he can hold it in, but if their throats are vulnerable later it's not on him if their heads go rolling to the floor. he wrestles a chair away from an empty table only to take a seat with a loud clatter and place his chin in a hand, restless. )

[zauneyete]

[ Silco is small, compared to most of the men in here. It's not just his height, but the fact that he's slim, and reedy. His coat is dark, and wide, something that serves to make him large — like a small lizard donning its fringe — but he walks in there like he could own the place. It's the walk, the way it sways slightly, the way his eyes scan over everyone in there — the eye.

Every single move is careful, and controlled. He isn't bumped, because they don't see him as a threat, and those that do, they pause the moment they see the eye. The scar is covered with makeup, it looks healed over and old, but he can't hide the black sclera, the glowing orange pit that stared out at everyone. He only shifts his gaze to Izou, who doesn't lift a finger, and he nodded when he sat down. ]

Drink?

[ He asked, waiting only long enough for Izou to tell him yes or no, and what, before he's at the bar. He doesn't chat up the bartender, he isn't personable. He doesn't have to be. The moment some look at him, they nod, and then go back to what they were doing. Silco puffs at a cigar, until the drinks are returned.

They know who he is. Or they're familiar with him.

When he returns, it's with drinks, and a target. ]

The two in the corner of the bar are discussing the possibility of raiding a rival's location. Not in so many words, but...

[ He could get the gist. ]

[hitokiller]

( the mere mention of drink would normally get an enthusiastic rise out of izou, but he is, unfortunately, a night-crawling creature at the moment, and so he knows it won't do jack shit for him. it'll go down like sloop and come up even worse, and he's not at all keen on scratching up his throat like that. on making a scene just yet. at the same time, not ordering one might signal something else entirely.

either way, a drink finds its way into his hand thanks to silco. he drums fingers along the edge of the wet glass.

wishes he could damn well taste it even if that's not important right now. )

Might as well make like we're joinin' up. I mean—

( wandering eyes. he can feel them on the back on his neck, like a pin prick. izou licks his lips. )

You know how bad I've always wanted to stick it to 'em. 'Specially when they think they're so much better, where they had to crawl from the bottom just like the rest of us.

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's responding laugh is just a touch too mean, and a touch too knowing. ]

Precisely. Wouldn't it be nice to take them down a peg, when everything they have is just something they've taken from someone like us anyway.

[ Silco doesn't drink either, but he pulls the drink to his lips, holds it there, his lips open on the glass.

He spits it back in. The smell is as nauseating as the taste. ]

I can't stand gangs like that. [ His tone turned darker — more authentic. ] Spending all of their time, playing at having found the magic advantage, when they have hardly lifted a finger. As disorganized as they come, and likely easy to handle.

[ His eyes swept the room, watching each and every one of them. He didn't fear their eyes, or need to look like he was innocent. He knew some of them, and they knew him. He tipped his glass in greeting to someone watching him from the other end of the bar. ]

[hitokiller]

( izou scoffs in disgust at the backwash.

which doesn't break his "cover" any, because izou's approach is simply to be himself, much like his distinctively scarred companion here. )

Yeah. Be a real shame if some other group came on and took all the credit for—

( the steady rhythm of heavy footsteps, the laughter in a someone's throat as they approach. a body crashes down in the seat next to izou, knocking shoulders with him. )

Wh—?!

( it's a large man with a cybernetic arm, his entire body thrumming with ironclad certainty as he grins ear-to-ear. great. a big oaf with missing teeth, convinced he can just do whatever he wants as he growls a potential offer to "hear what you think someone 'a your caliber can offer" towards... silco, and not him.

then he goes for izou's drink, which gets izou baring teeth.)

Don't even try it.

[zauneyete]

[ Silco's smile was a lot more placating. He waved a hand. ]

Now, now, Biscuit, if you want another drink, I can get you one. Let the man have a drink. Clearly, he needs it.

[ He waved a hand, like he's been all too accommodating. His eyes draw to Izou, as if he's implying to him to let him; before he spread his hands, all magnanimous charm back on display. His lips curled into a smile. ]

Why, someone of my caliber can offer a great deal. After all, there are certain organizations that are on the lookout for trouble, and that is going to make your plans harder, isn't it? [ He stared at the man for a long moment, appraising him, evaluating. ]

But all these groups have certain deals, don't they? Groups that they don't mess with, supplies that are off limits. There is a certain... agreement from one to another. The rules that we all follow.

[ He folded his hands. ]

Then there are those who are not quite known in these elements, people who haven't learned the rules yet. Newcomers, who only need to be educated, but oops — [ A hand to his mouth, as if this was a funny little joke. ] — I suppose we were so busy that we forgot. So sorry... We'll never make that mistake again.

But of course by then it is too late, isn't it?

[ He's saying it, without quite saying it. Use Izou to stop a shipment, he's a newcomer, he doesn't know. Perhaps it's an opportunity to lay a dummy-shimpment in. Take what they are using for their own, while leaving a plant for the other gang to pick up.

Bombs, poison, whatever. It was All effective. ]

[hitokiller]

( he visibly flinches at being called "biscuit", the habit of it when coming from silco not something that's soaked into his bones just yet. what has him is that look. a look that grips him with a firm easiness, a "silence yourself, izou" sort of command to it.

he knows it well enough, leaning back in his seat just enough for the end of the chair to hit the floor when he shifts his weight. fine.

but if this shit doesn't add up...

izou watches and tries to follow, mildly irritated with the scrawling sing-song of silco's statements. get with the point, old man.

when the conversation starts to shift like it's his turn to chime in, izou leans in, elbow on the table and a hand positioned thoughtfully against his chin. )

Yeah. Rules we all gotta follow. Ones I'm itchin' to learn, given I've got a good eye and an even gooder hand for dealing with trouble.

( there comes a smirk in reply, as their "gentleman" who took the bait pawing at izou's drink, suggesting they're not against giving him a "trial run" to kick things off. they need all the hands they can get, apparently.

there's a catch though, and he points a thick thumb directly at silco. "if your boy here puts his foot in his mouth out-right, there's no gettin' out in one piece." in other words, they'll eliminate him to cover their tracks. izou scoffs. )

Wanna run that by me again?

[zauneyete]

[ It's always like this, all the negotiation, all the little pieces put into place. This gang was an upstart group, he was aware of their habits. They were looking for "the big score", and uninterested in the little things, the hard work and dedication that it took to make it to the big leagues. They were sloppy, uncontrolled, and easily handled. They also were amassing plenty of muscle.

So they would offer a great opportunity, to use Izou to put Another gang out, and put this sloppy group of upstarts in its place. The Sapphire Room would be forced to deal with them, creating a small chip in their armor that could be used to their advantage later. Perhaps they would learn a few lessons, but not enough and not quickly enough for Silco to not use it to his own advantage.

It was about positioning, about play. About taking the weak pieces, and suffusing them, putting them where you wanted, and about taking the stronger pieces out. Creating gaps and cracks in the armor. The criminal underworld was all about power, and might, and about money. Silco knew how all of this worked, because he'd dealt with plenty of these attempts before in his time. The advantage was, they didn't know who was behind this. Even his own organization didn't know.

So he smiled, that silent, knowing smile. He doesn't say anything for a long moment, only a soft chuff of a chuckle under his breath. ]

Oh, don't worry. The point is for my friend here to get caught, and do what he does best.

[ His eyes turn toward Izou, and he nodded. ] And thus, your score? Guaranteed.

How advantageous for all of us. The only thing I ask is that you think of me and mine, when you consider your next deal. Of course, always consider the major players first.

[ He's laying a trap, of course. He doesn't care if they come after his org, that will get tossed aside soon enough, when the moment is right. Only making it look like he's looking out for himself. ]