[closed] california's a garden of eden

[metafictions]

Who ⬤ Kamui & friends
What ⬤ Kamui has a fun time at the festival-- until, of course, the festival stops being fun.
When ⬤ During and after the Night Parade
Where ⬤ Around the city
Content Warnings ⬤ slapstick dildo violence, the backdrop of the bathhouse orgy but no actual sex, actual violence later

while these prompts are closed, please feel free to hit my plotting comment if you'd like a starter!


[art source]

Comments

🌸 aerith

[metafictions]

[Attending a bustling festival is already a feat for Kamui. To say he's out of his element would be a vast understatement. It's been worthwhile, though-- between putting up a good fight in his clan's sumo competition, getting to eat (non-cursed) food, and partaking of the other festivities in the company of friends... he's had a lot of fun. Which, well. Never happens for him, ever.

In the spirit of continuing to actually have fun, he's tagging along with Aerith again, allowing her to lead the way into the Tamamo section of the parade route. Bewildering as the Kanamura Matsuri's theme is (annnnd there goes a giant penis mini-shrine on their left...), Kamui's being a good enough sport about it. He's even bought himself one of those dick-shaped lollipops for later.

However, it's soon becoming clear where Aerith is leading him. Just up ahead is the Tamamo bathhouse-- the signage outside is discreet enough, but they've definitely left one of the upper windows open. And, through it, he's just gotten an eyeful of some exhibitionist orgy-goer's bare ass.

Oh boy.] Aerith? Where are we going, now?

[If only Kuroyanagi could see him now.]

[everblooms]

[ Tamamo is always like this: ostentatious and shameless. The amount of genitals the pair have seen together surely number in the hundreds now, and it's becoming rather normal to her eye. What is great fun to her, however, is when a gaggle of festival-goers rush past them, giggling and smiling joyfully. It's a brief interaction, following only the dick shrine by seconds, but it's infectious. Turning her head to look at him, she moves the curtain of the bathhouse's opening for him. The double doors have been kept open by a door stopper since the morning. She remembers rushing back with an emergency delivery of special scented soap only hours before coming back. ]

Part of the parade route. [ Nonchalant as she is, it's still obviously an orgy. ] I was here this morning! It was pretty empty then. Makes sense, I guess. I was delivering some soap. Now, there's lots of people having fun inside. [ This is maybe the third orgy she's walked in on this week! If he can tell. ]

...Sorry, too much for you?

[ She's maybe getting a little too adjusted to the T & A around— someone with a sizable bust walks past the doorway... Oh! It looks like they winked at him. How nice, Aerith thinks, smiling. ]

[metafictions]

[Kamui doesn't hesitate to step through the bathhouse's threshold. He's been welcomed in by Aerith, after all, and he's already inured to all the festival nudity-- it can't be too dramatically different, can it? As he enters, he furrows a brow, taking the short entrance hall in: it's lavishly decorated, even moreso for the occasion. Fortunately, the majority of the attendees are comfortably in rooms and bath areas, rather than in the entryway, but there's a fair amount of people wandering about in transit.

Liiiiike that busty youkai. He's in the middle of watching them leave, a dubious expression on his face, when Aerith's words snap him back to attention. Kamui quickly shakes his head, and the youkai disappears through a door on their way to one of the baths.]

No, it's okay. [He's not a prude, really. He's just always been a little disinterested, which makes A WHOLE ASS ORGY totally alien territory.] I'm starting to get used to it.

Keeping an... event like this supplied must be a lot of work. Tenkohime must keep you all very busy.

[everblooms]

Oh! Well, sure.

[ The hallway stretches for a few feet, beaded curtains shimmering as they walk past. There's several refreshments laid out on lush looking wooden tables, both scented and unscented candles burning away. The lighting is warm, but not too bright. She almost cracks a joke about beer goggles, but instead catches sight of an extensive contraception desk. There's even uniquely shaped condoms on display with concise diagrams for application. ]

For example, we spent a pretty long time getting the condom station together. These are for double, these are for single, and then there's the flavored... [ After plucking one package out, she holds it out for Kamui to take. Aerith flashes him a cheeky smile. ] Always wrap it before you tap it. You seem like a green apple sort of guy.

[ Yeah, it's a green apple flavored condom. ]

I'm sure Tora's kept you all so busy, too. It's not all sumo and games over there, huh?

[metafictions]

[When Aerith holds the condom out, he's curiously eyeing some of the weirder, very youkai-shaped condoms, so it catches him a bit off guard. But he's not the type to turn down a gift (?), either.]

Um, thanks. It's very clearly organized.

[He's about to protest that he likes strawberry better, actually, but... in the long run, it doesn't matter too much, does it? He answers Aerith's smile with a sheepish one of his own, taking the condom and pocketing it for later. It's going to become the honorable Never Actually Getting Used Wallet Condom, probably.]

And no, not at all. There's a lot of grunt work that needs to be handled: guards, supply runs, the like. We may not have the bulk of the food stalls under our wing like Tamamo does, but that doesn't mean Shuten isn't invested in the parade goings-on. Literally and figuratively.

[...Also, he goes ahead and takes that strawberry one. It's a cheery pink and resting at the top of the pile, he can't resist.]

☕ monts

[metafictions]

[Unluckily for Kamui, he only checks his pockets long after Aerith's left him to handle actual Tamamo work. His wallet's safe and sound where it should be, but his phone's nowhere to be found.]

Damn...

[So here he is, unwillingly back at the bathhouse for the second time today. Fully clothed in a dark yukata, Kamui looks more than a little out of place; he dispassionately brushes off advances from youkai sex workers at every turn, unable to be distracted as he doggedly searches for his phone.

His attitude's really put a couple of them off, too. A pair of deathly pale, but stunningly beautiful youkai glare daggers at Kamui's back as he enters an empty room. Together, they mutter treacherously to each other about creepy Shuten troublemakers around. Someone should really do something about that weirdo.

Like... that Lost Soul keeping watch! One of the nikusui flags Monts down, gesturing to the room Kamui's ducked into as he explains the whole situation in hushed tones.

Please, he concludes, bowing his head-- you've got to get him out of here!]

oh boy 💀

[nerine]

[One of the other Nikusui had dressed up Monts for the occasion. The Lost Souls under Tenkohime's leadership needed to look their very best if they were to serve their guests and raise the levels of excitement during the Night Parade.

"If you aren't going to break your back in there, then at the very least, break something or someone and look good while doing it," said the Nikusui dryly as she put the finishing touches on the young woman's face.

Marianna figures, "Okay. Sure, why not."

She's more or less acting as a poster girl, welcoming in the guests who want to participate in the heart-racing activities that Tenkohime had announced over the network. There's no judgment on her part, though one of the pettier youkai sex workers had asked if Monts was some kind of prude ("No, I'm Catholic," Monts replied cheerfully — She is not.) As the festivities proceed, she actually does a good job pitching to curious customers and enticing them by slipping her arm around theirs to lead them inside, smiling and giving vague suggestive glances and promises of a good time before passing them off to the others to really get down and dirty.

There are the troublemakers to contend with; anyone grabby, rude, or generally giving off a creepy vibe is thrown out and at first, Monts isn't too involved besides lightly alerting their managers.

As Kamui enters the room, they're short on people and when the Nikusui implores Monts to help out, she has no reason to refuse. You see, the thing is though, she just came back from an errand and is holding a large (and long) paper bag by its handle. The delivery was supposed to be for one of the rooms, but if she's going to play rough... ]

Hello!

[Monts has approached the Shuten member, smiling all the while and waving to catch his attention.]

You lost big guy?

🍆

[metafictions]

[Kamui is also not especially prudish, but he's as disinterested in the festival's saucier offerings as they come. Also, he's been here before. The Tamamo bathhouse workers had been, well... insistent the first time around. It was irritating then, and it's even more irritating now, now that he's lost his most reliable means of contact with the other Lost Souls in town. If Monts hadn't approached him, he'd have surely ignored her entirely.]

Thank you, [he replies briskly,] but I'm not here to partake. [Kamui gives the suspiciously long paper bag a dubious glance-- wow, they've really got everything here, don't they?-- before he turns away, rifling through the room for his phone. This was one of the stops on that 'tour', wasn't it...?]

Once I get what I came here for, I'll be out of here. You don't need to worry about me.

[Get what he-- blurts one of the nikusui; there's a faint smack! as the other one swats her arm, then loudly shushes her.]

[nerine]

Mm. You're Shuten aren't you?

[Just to put it out there in the open. The other Nikusui stiffen, waiting with bated breath because the tension has ramped up by Monts putting a spotlight on the unsaid context; different factions, different values, and thus, different troubles.]

Not sure what you'd need here. Though since you're aware of where you are then you're aware that this is the place of giving and taking.

But hey, I'm willing to hear you out before I run you off! What do you need?

[She's pleasant and so is her smile. Supposedly. There's an undertone if you listen closely enough saying, "You better run along or else." It's politeness tainted with the tiniest drops of poison.]

[metafictions]

Mm.

[If Kamui is anything, it's that he's utterly single-minded when it comes to getting something done. He's barely paying attention, opening drawers and looking underneath furniture, to a word she says. Of course he's Shuten, if it matters: the only thing he's after right now is his one lifeline in hell.]

I was here earlier, with a friend, and left something behind. It's nothing you need to worry about. [Harried as he is (god, how much does a new phone even cost? he's subsisting off the least glamorous of conbini dinners and instant ramen as is right now!!) he doesn't give the necessary context, nor does he remember to mind his tone. Kamui sounds more than a little terse, and he doesn't turn around to look at Monts a second time.]

Just leave me be.

🔶 kim

[metafictions]

[As the twilight settles over the festival and the parade comes to a close, Kamui finds himself among the crowd of revelers at Kaigo no Bou. He stands further back, where the crush of people is a bit thinner, but the voices of the faction leaders as they give their speeches come through just fine. He wants to hear Toraguma's words, of course, but who he's really looking forward to is the Daitengu.

It's been a good day for him, in spite of all the misadventures; seeing and hearing the Daitengu speak before the crowd seems to solidify that feeling. After all, their conversation on the network had managed to stick with him. If they can maintain their responsibilities without losing themselves... circumstances aside, perhaps he can still take the time to enjoy himself in Hell while he's here.

Eventually the Daitengu leaves the stage so the final prep for the fireworks can begin. Fitting, then, that he should spot a familiar Sutoku face in the crowd. A faint smile plays on Kamui's face as he approaches Kim, drawing his coat closer in the steadily cooling night air.]

Hi, Kim. Are you having a good time?

[aceslow]

Oh -- hello, Kamui.

[ For his part, Kim's on guard. He knows that something is going to happen, but not necessarily what that is. He's got a gut feeling that whatever it is, it's going to be bad. On one hand, Kim often feels that way, prone to bouts of paranoia he never lets show on his face. On the other hand, he's frequently correct, and he's got proof to back it up.

For now, though, he simply nods at Kamui, friendly even if he doesn't outright smile at him. He tugs his collar up against the cool night breeze. ] It all seems to be going smoothly, yes. I saw you in the ring back there. Well done. You put up quite the fight.

[ And got his ass kicked a few times, but there's no shame in that. The effort is to be commended. ]

[metafictions]

[Kamui's heard rumors of threats too, albeit in the vaguest terms. Ordinarily, he would be just as concerned. As it is, he's chosen to take what feels like an especially drastic step for himself-- he's put it out of his mind for a little while. It's a foreign feeling, to be carefree. A good one, even.]

You were watching that? Thank you. Harry and I actually trained a bit together last month, since we both had to learn the rules. I've never wrestled before, but I had fun.

[Even when he got tossed out of the ring. Sort of.]

[aceslow]

Did you? That was kind of you. I did think he performed surprisngly well for someone who had no idea what sumo even was.

[ It's good to hear that Harry has made acquaintances willing to help him, willing to train with him -- but it's not much of a surprise, is it? He's always been good at making friends, and seems to seek them out as cheerfully as he does enemies in whatever room he finds himself in. It's Kim who has always had problems making connections, but that's of no consequence; Kim thinks that he's much better at being alone than Harry ever was.

Still, Kamui's a sensible sort. A good ally to have, he thinks, and hopefully one that will help mitigate some of Harry's more... fanciful inclinations. ]

I have to say I wasn't expecting wrestling to be one of our assignments in Hell, but... better you than me. [ He means it. Sincerely. ] Maybe the two of you should keep up the training.

[ It would be good for the both of them, he thinks. Good for morale. ]

[metafictions]

Oh, not at all. I was glad to have someone join me, really. [Particularly someone both taller and broader than him: knowing how to handle a larger opponent's bulk had wound up being the key to Kamui figuring out sumo, period. No better guy to practice on than the second biggest guy in the clan, right? He ducks his head, expression humble.] I'm sure I would have embarrassed myself if I'd gone in without any practice at all.

[Though he doesn't know it, Kamui's feeling the same about Kim and Harry. It must be good to be partners to someone so level. Especially, well... when you're Harry.]

You know, that's not a bad idea. [Particularly seeing as he was out of his depth in a firefight last month, hustling to find a weapon...] The hand-to-hand practice can't hurt any.

[and oh boy, he's going to say this with total sincerity:] Would you like to join us?

🧟‍♀️ hazel

[metafictions]

[It's inevitable. Even with a close eye on the bright orange of Kim Kitsuragi's jacket, the chaos and mad surge of confused, terrified people is far too disorienting. In time, Kamui loses him, leaving him all alone in the blurry white haze of steam and noise. And without delay, the harsh crack of gunfire rends the air again, from all directions. There's no time to go looking for Kim: he's a grown man, more than capable enough in a mess like this. Kamui needs to focus here and keep his head on straight, lest he get shot in the street.

(And yet, a part of him can't help wondering-- is this the part where he dies again, hopping right back to the beginning of the loop?)

But one of those dark-clad youkai rushes past him, firing shots blindly into a panicked, screaming crowd that immediately scatters. Are they the ones who started this? Could he actually stop and interrogate one? Kamui doesn't hesitate, breaking off into a sprint after the youkai in black.

As soon as the youkai is in his sights again, he realizes he isn't as along as he thinks he is. There's the shape of a person just ahead of him, but he can't even make out whether they're a lost soul or some innocent youkai caught up in the scuffle-- and those shots ring out again in their direction.]

Watch out!

[Unthinkingly, he rushes forward to put himself between this person and the bullet. If he's fast enough, he could get this stranger behind him; if this timeline's doomed, he could, at the very least, leave it having saved one life, right?]

[deadtective]

[there's no helping the Daitengu. Hazel knows this the second that the figure crumbles, from the staggered way their silhouette falls to the distance between herself and the faction leaders. someone else might be able to achieve the impossible and save the Sutoku head from what surely must be fatal wounds, but for her to try is nothing but a fool's errand. that was fine. the assailants were obviously eager to confirm their kill and held no interest in keeping the path between themselves and their target free of blood.

she was supposed to be on her best behavior, reining in those ugly impulses of hers...but what was just a little more pain for a good cause?

gunshots make it easy to find hotspots despite the poor visibility; she doesn't need to see so long as she can keep her feet from catching on anything as she sprints in the direction of the sound. people got panicky in situations like this, didn't know which way they were going or how to keep away from a fucking bullet-]

Hey, back up!

[it's not like the stranger hurtling towards her could have known, but that doesn't mean Hazel's going to allow them to suffer gunfire for her sake. even if they didn't die...what a fucking waste it would be. she plants her feet and swings around, arm out with the intention of clotheslining the man heading towards her. if he stumbles, she can pivot and block his sagging form with her own delicate frame. an empty body can still absorb a few magazine's worth, she was sure.]

SORRY work killed me

[metafictions]

[The visibility's way too low here for him to spot Hazel's arm in time. Though Kamui is fast enough to not get smacked with the clothesline's full force, Hazel still manages to hit him: disoriented, he stumbles backward, landing flat his ass.

Did. Did she just stop him... from helping her?

Maybe it's the fog; maybe she couldn't see and thought he was a threat, too? That's the only explanation that makes any sense. Kamui squints to make out the shape of Hazel's form in all the cloudy white as he props himself up on his elbows. Just as another shot rings out, Kamui finally spots Hazel... covering him now?

Huh???] Hey--

[A bullet whistles above both their heads: he flinches, instinctively making himself smaller. He fumbles for the cheap gun in his coat, salvaged from some Shuten mission earlier in the month, and casts Hazel an incredulous glance as he starts to get back to his feet.]

You don't need to do this, I'm fine! Please, let me cover you!

[He fires in the direction of the bullet, and for a second, the gunfire ceases. Then another shot rings out: slightly closer this time. Kamui swears, crouching back down again.]

it's np!! i've been riding the struggle bus too, ahaha...

[deadtective]

[there's nothing accidental about anything here, no matter how deranged it may seem to an outside perspective, and when Hazel hears what she believes could be a familiar voice protesting her choices it only hardens her resolve. this was a guy just learning to enjoy festivals; how could she let somebody like that take her place in front of danger?]

You don't fucking get it - this can't hurt me. Sit the fuck down, dude!

[one, two bullets come screaming through the air and she doesn't so much as turn her head in the direction of the noise. whether she's bluffing about her impervious nature it's clear that any self-preservation has long since evaporated from this girl. she even makes a motion as if she's about to try and push Kamui by the shoulders to keep him down before that followup bullet does the job for her.

shit. those were definitely creeping in, weren't they?

she didn't have a gun. why would she have a fucking gun? her clan would probably suggest absorbing the bullets with her vulva or some stupid shit like that, to say nothing of the fact she's barely ever fired one in her life. she's got a knife, though, and more importantly - she's got some firecrackers she'd pocketed from the setup for the parade. they'd been intended for more mischievous purposes down the line, but it seemed as if those plans were going up in as much smoke as was presently surrounding them. fishing one out of her jacket pocket, she cast her gaze back to Kamui while digging around for the lighter. of all the fucking times-!]

You can book it when I start tossing these. Should pull in all the gunfire for a little while.

[metafictions]

Wait a minute.

[At last, the familiarity of Hazel's voice registers. Through the chaos of the crossfire, he calls:] Stitches? That's you, right?!

[He can't get properly in front of her this way, nor can he stop her from pushing him aside when he's still trying not to get peppered with bullets. And, either way-- blinded by the smoke like this and with the gunfire slowly drawing nearer and nearer, the two of them are sitting ducks whether or not he's providing cover. Fortunately, Hazel's got a plan B. Kamui has to admit: the firecrackers are as good an idea as any in the spot they're in now.

He's not going to question why the bullets won't hurt her, though. That's a topic for when they've found safety. ]

Better idea: we are booking it. [Whether or not she feels it, if she gets shot up, she's going to have a hard time making it out alive. (But that begs the question: if she can't feel it, can she... even die?)] It'll distract them long enough for the two of us to get out of here.

[A bullet whizzes by, missing his cheek by inches. He freezes.]

You've got a light, right?!

✨ natori

[metafictions]

[It's been a long, long night. Even as the investigations come to a close for the evening, it keeps right on going: the Shuten clan's on alert too just in case, and Kamui's one of the lucky rookies who gets put on a watch shift just in case those mysterious youkai decide to claim a second leader's head. Though they let him off the hook eventually, he sleeps poorly. There's no helping it, really, when there's so much in flux and very little to do about it.

Kamui's still bone-tired and frustrated when he wakes the next morning. He's spotted most everyone he knows in town around the area, helping investigate or mend the wounded. They're all exhausted and worse for wear, but more or less in one piece. However, the last time he saw Natori was in passing, chatting up some other Tamamos. The man's been nothing but helpful every time they've run into each other: he'd better actually reach out to him, too... just in case.

Mid-morning, Natori gets a quick text--]

Are you all right, Natori-san? I hope you made it back home safely.

✨✨✨

[paperpusher]

[It's not that Natori mourns the Daitengu. Sure, there had been something human, maybe even childlike, in their post on the network, but Natori sees no reason to believe that was their genuine personality any more than his disgusting flirting with Tenkohime had been. But he was wary of a power struggle in an already-messy situation with too many egos running around, made all the worse for how powerful some of the players were. The worst situation he can imagine is that this chaos spill out into the human world, and he knows that if it comes towards that, there's nothing he can do to stop it.

He doesn't mourn the Daitengu as anything more than another powerful ayakashi, but. He can maybe empathize a bit with what they represented, and what it means to be a symbol over a person, and why that might matter to some people. But if asked, he didn't sleep last night because of the political implications, nothing more.

The text comes mid-morning, but Natori has only been asleep for a few hours when it comes in. He wakes up to the text alert (he's an old man who hasn't realized he should turn it off yet), fumbles with the phone long enough to see who it's from, and immediately mashes his face back into his pillow for another few hours. It's closer to noon when he texts back.]

Eventually. Sorry, I just woke up. Perils of the night shift.

[There's several '...'s that stop and start again before he sends]

Crazy night, huh?

[metafictions]

I understand. Toraguma had us working late too.

[Although it hadn't been much of a comfort, to stay occupied. The streets were quiet— perhaps the assailants had thought another attack would be too obvious?— leaving that much more time to dwell on it. All of it.

It's funny, to feel himself empathizing with the Daitengu as much as he is. They weren't even his clan leader: not that he cares much for the lines of clan division drawn across Jigoku-cho, mind you, but. Somehow, it feels a little personal. Maybe he isn't mourning; perhaps it's a regret in himself instead. For getting too optimistic about this situation too quickly.

Kamui watches Natori type, delete, retype the response. He gets it. Last night had been a lot to take in.]

Yes

Something was bound to happen eventually. It is hell. But it feels so soon, somehow… and to get caught up in youkai politics just doesn’t sit right.

[paperpusher]

I hope it was a quiet night for you.

[Aka, he hopes there weren't additional developments happening in the wee hours of the morning. They had enough to deal with as it was.]

I know what you mean. [No need for Natori to point out that they were already caught up in youkai politics just by virtue of being snatched up by different clans-- it's not the time, and it's not the point. There's a difference between the situation as it was explained to them and where they currently found themselves.] And there's some degree of... If even one of the leaders of the clans could be killed like that, we're in a much more volatile situation than I thought. And beyond that, it's concerning that it was the Daitengu out of all of them.

[metafictions]

Fortunately, it was. I'm just glad the culprit wasn't bold enough to claim two clan leader heads in an evening.

[If all hell broke loose with the Daitengu's death alone... well, he doesn't want to consider the possibility of any further chaos.]

Yes, it's dangerous. Especially the Sutoku we might know who are now vulnerable. Soon, people will start to point fingers, or take advantage of the situation, and we'll have very little say once our clan heads get caught up in it all too. [laughing in shuten/tamamo pvp]

[...]

I'm still thinking about something the Daitengu said. When their successor is chosen, they'll truly become the Daitengu: mask and all. They told me, before they died, that they were still someone beneath it... but if they're to be replaced and their identity kept secret, it's like they're going to be completely erased.