[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

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[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.

[paperpusher]

[akeboshi is typing...

...

akeboshi is typing...

...

akeboshi is typing...]

I thought it might be something like that. For what being the Daitengu means, I mean.

[akeboshi is typing...]

Do you want to get breakfast, while we can still do cross clan solidarity?

Or lunch, I guess. My sleep schedule is always bad, so don't trust my sense of time.

[metafictions]

That's fine. Brunch then, I guess. Maybe not that one cat cafe though, haha...

[Somehow, acknowledging the coming conflicts feels more disheartening when Natori's saying it. The peace had been nice while it had lasted.]

I came across this American-style restaurant in the Sutoku district. [So at least they'll be on neutral ground. Just in case their clanmates are already starting to brush up against each other-- which he's got a nasty feeling may be the case.] Let's try that one. Unless you want something else, of course.

[He sends over the address; if there's no protests, he'll head right over.]

[paperpusher]

No, that works fine for me. [At least for now, but that could change as soon as either of them receive word from their bosses, and they both know it.] I'll see you there soon.

[Natori literally just woke up, but thankfully he has a lot of experience in rolling out of bed and heading out the door with minimal transition time. He shows up at the restaurant late not because it took him too long to get ready (he's wearing casual Western clothes and an ugly bucket hat to cover his bedhair) but because he can't navigate for shit. He arrives after Kamui, frowning at his phone and poking at it with a distinctly untrusting finger as it finally leads him to the right place.]

Sorry. This city is a maze. [He stashes his phone in his pocket rather than throw it across the street, and that's going to count as a win.] Ugh. How are you doing, Kamui-san?

[They had the smalltalk on the phone earlier, but Natori is inherently distrustful of everything, including his phone. It feels easier to talk in person.]

[metafictions]

[That bucket hat is pretty ugly. It feels like seeing a paparazzi photo, almost, but he's too polite to comment.

At any rate, Kamui's waiting outside for him patiently, wearing the same just barely office casual sort of outfit as always; he's taken the liberty of getting the two of them a table, too. He gives Natori an uncertain smile:]

A little tired. But who isn't right now?

[Their waitress, a cheery yuki-onna in a sweater, directs them to a little booth in the corner away from the few other parties already in the restaurant. Just in case. There's a little bit of relief on Kamui's features as the nearest party finishes their check and starts heading out.

sliding into the booth, he turns to the waitress:] So, coffee, I guess? Natori-san, you too?

[paperpusher]

Mm. Two coffees, then. [He smiles, small and polite and distinctly non-sparkling, at the waitress without lingering-- this is worth saying because he sparkles at waitstaff when he wants to get info out of them, and today he doesn't want anyone hovering. Or, if he's being pessimistic, he doesn't want anyone paying close attention to he and Kamui sitting together, just in case it becomes a problem in the future. He's sure Kamui's thinking something similar, considering how they both sit there in silence until the waitress goes to get the coffee. Even once he starts talking, it's in a low voice but purposefully maintaining his casual sitting posture, leaning back against the booth instead of leaning closer to Kamui out of fear of being overheard. Sometimes being an actor is actually good for something.]

...You said something before. About the successor to the Daitengu role. Do you know anything about how that happens?

[metafictions]

[The lack of sparkling does not go unnoticed. It's a good idea, and, glancing casually back at the waitress to ensure that she's really gone, Kamui mirrors him as best as he can. Voice lower and subdued, but not leaning in too close. Maybe there aren't any oni around today, but he'd hate for any of his more Shuten-spirited comrades to get the wrong idea.]

Yes. [He glances quickly downward.] I spoke to the Daitengu about it once. Because they only publicly appear with the mask, the ayakashi they are behind it effectively doesn't exist-- at least in their capacity as leader of the clan. I've even heard rumors before that the current Daitengu might have secretly replaced the original founder. But to us outsiders, that doesn't matter.

The role itself transcends the individual. Other than now, we know nothing about the person. Just that they have assumed their role as clan head.