[ OPEN ] scaring at the sky

[aceslow]

Who⬤ Kim & YOU
What ⬤ Kim takes on shifts at the local 7-11, fields an attempted robbery at aforementioned 7-11, visits a gay bar, finds a skeleton woman's bones (substory 2), contemplates haunted dolls (substory 4), and goes about his daily life.
When ⬤ Throughout May (and probably into June as a catch-all!)
Where ⬤ Throughout Jigokucho
Content Warnings ⬤ None anticipated; will edit as needed



a. 7-11 shifts.

i. a normal day in hell.

[ A lifelong policeman, Kim had quickly come to realize both that his skills as a detective aren’t exactly transferable here, and that the paltry salary that their clan leaders have given them is not enough to live off of. The only solution to that is to get a job and, much to Kim’s chagrin, the most convenient place to pick up a paycheck happened to be one of Jigokucho’s many convenience stores. A temporary position, Kim had told himself, but a position nonetheless.

Which is why Kim finds himself here, perched behind the counter of a 7-11 in some awful polyester uniform, sporadically working day and night shifts alike and feeling bored out of his skull. Is your character here to pick up their daily slushie? Have they been living off of convenience store foods for the past week? Or do they want a chat as they’re picking up lottery tickets and cigarettes? Whatever the case, Kim is here, seeing exactly what everyone’s daily routine looks like.

When he’s not restocking shelves or tidying up or looking terribly bored, he can be found reading a book underneath the counter or scribbling away in that omnipresent blue notebook of his. But feel free to interrupt him – that’s his job, after all. ]

ii. a normal day in hell: robbery edition!

[ Though late one evening, Kim’s stupor is interrupted by a young humanoid yokai slamming down his haul - slushies, saran wrapped pastries, ice cream and candy; somebody’s got a sweet tooth! - and jabbing the stubbiest looking switchblade Kim has ever seen in his direction. ]

This is a robbery! Give me everything in your register, now!

[ If you’re particularly good at reading expressions, Kim looks almost… glad for the excitement? He raises his brows at the young man, reaching underneath the counter. ]

You’re... robbing me? With that?

[ Do you want to intervene in the world’s most pathetic robbery? Or did you see that there could be more dangerous accomplices around the corner? Or maybe you just feel like watching the show? Take your pick! ]

b. the homo-sexual underground (it’s a gay bar).

[ With how busy his job kept him back home it’s not as though Kim had the time or energy to frequent gay bars, but with more time on his hands and a lack of community at his disposal, he’s slowly come to realize precisely what it is that he’s missing: a tether to the homo-sexual underground or, as it may be here, the homo-sexual overground. For how little he’d frequented the bars back home in the past few years, it’s a place that’s always welcomed him and a place he always knew he could go back to. He’d cut his teeth in those dingy, secretive bars even before he had been old enough to drink after all, and he decides it’s about time he gets acquainted with what Jigukocho has to offer.

With that in mind, Kim dons appropriate attire - a black leather jacket, white undershirt, dark wash trousers and some good, solid boots; there’s no point in messing with the classics - and heads to the Tamamo District to scope out the scene. It’s less a matter of asking around, and more of being able to spot his own. Once he sees exactly who is streaming into one of the bars, he slips in himself, looking comfortable and at ease, though in truth, he’s trying to get a lay of the land. He’s only ever been in the gay scene in one city, and to acquaint himself with another’s language seems like quite the task.

He winds up sitting at the bar, waiting for the bartender to finish chatting with another customer to place his order and looking far more approachable than he usually does. He’s in no hurry to get his drink, though – whether you’re here on purpose or stumbled into the gay bar by accident, why not say hello? ]

c. substory 2: vend me a dream.

[ If Kim had known just how long this satellite investigation was going to go, he wouldn’t have signed up for it in the first place, he thinks. But now that he’s invested, he’s come face to face with someone that he would probably feel obligated to help regardless of what comes at the end of this whole jaunt: skeleton clad in a beautiful, intricate dress, pooling on the filthy streets of Jigokucho. If you happen to listen in, you may hear Kim say, perplexed: ] You say they… took your bones, Madam?

My bones! They stole my bones! [ The woman’s jaw crackles and pops as she speaks, the entire effect a rather eerie one, though Kim tries his damnedest to keep a straight face. ] How will I get anywhere without my legs?

And who were these miscreants, exactly?

A dog.

A dog, ma'am?

A dog, a dog!

A dog took both of your legs?

[ The skeleton woman shrugs. Her bones crackle. ] A dog took one of my legs.

I see. [ Kim very carefully does not sigh. The absence of a sigh is somehow even louder than if he had. He turns to anyone nearby - that’s you! - and says, ] Pardon me. I don’t suppose you’ve seen a dog with a bone around here, have you? It would be a very large bone.

d. substory 4: haniwhat?

[ While his aren't as bad as some, Lieutenant Kim Kitsuragi is no stranger to nightmares, especially at times of unrest. When he bolts awake in the morning with a shout - perhaps audible to other residents of Sutoku housing - he expects that it's nothing more than an overactive subconscious up until the point he sees an eerie looking doll staring back at him from across the room, perched precariously on the chair he habitually hangs his jacket on. Voice croaky from sleep, he rasps, ] What the fuck?

[ He doesn't do more than get himself looking baseline presentable before taking action, grabbing a pair of tongs from the kitchen to transfer the strange figurine from a chair to an old grocery bag. He carries it out of his apartment and sets it down as gently he can out on the sidewalk, using the tongs again to unwrap it from the bag and peer suspiciously at it, more than a little spooked. Usually he wouldn't want to be seen like this, in a loose tank top and sweatpants, hair mussed instead of being slicked back with a prodigious amount of hair gel and face unshaven, but he feels inclined to get to the bottom of this. Experimentally, he pokes it. ]

If you're alive, [ he tells it sternly, ] You should say so. And you certainly shouldn't be breaking into people's homes.

[ It stares emptily back at him, silent as the grave. Perhaps you've seen one of these too and can enlighten him as to what's going on -- or where to dispose of it. ]

e. daily life.

[ Otherwise, you can find Kim going about his regular business. If you live in Sutoku housing, you may have him for a neighbour and run into him as he takes out the trash, or perhaps figure out his schedule by the fact that he stands out on the communal porch of Sutoku's building for his daily cigarette, breathing chestnut-scented smoke into the light-saturated nighttime of the city of the dead that never sleeps. He's largely a polite, conscientious neighbour, though he sticks to himself and never appears to welcome any visitors.

Otherwise, he can be found doing his weekly grocery shopping, hitting up thrift stores for clothing and household goods, peering into the windows of Sutoku's many arcades (he seems particularly interested in those racing games), eating at one of Jigokucho's many cheap dining establishments, or even studying the advertisement in the window of a gym. Wherever you can reasonably expect someone to visit while going about their day, you can find Kim! ]

f. wildcard!

[ hit me with a wildcard – or if you’d like to plot/would like me to write you a custom starter, I’m more than happy to do so! Comment to me on the cr meme or on plurk and we can work something out! ]

Comments

a1

[psionicmolotov]

[ As the afternoon wears on into evening, a diminutive man in a mask that looks rather like its design and colours have been chosen by an eight year old and an equally obnoxiously patterned happi ducks into the store to pick up food orders. From what little can be seen of his expression, he has the patented 'let me just get through this shift' stare that is common to retail and delivery workers everywhere.

It takes well into the evening for the same man, no longer wearing what was likely his work uniform, to actually come in and do his own shopping. ]

... [ In a vague attempt at acknowledging that he knows this person and he doesn't dislike them, he waits for Kim to finish what he's doing before trying to even attempt to get by in the cramped aisle. This does take the form of him just kinda...lurking around like a small black-clothed ghost but. It's fine probably. ]

[aceslow]

You can walk around me. I don't mind.

[ Kim had recognized Kimmuriel earlier that afternoon (all things considered, he's impossible not to recognize), but both had been too busy with their own tasks to spare any time chatting. Afternoons in the convenience store are beguilingly busy, salarymen dropping by to pick up cheap dinners and youths coming by to loiter and chat, or try to wheedle Kim into giving them cigarettes and lottery tickets.

Now that it's later and only the odd customer strolls in, he's got a moment to himself. Not that he likes that much either; he's bored out of his skull and, frankly, even some small talk with Kimmuriel sounds like a much-needed balm.

Once he's finished restocking the shelf, he turns to face Kimmuriel properly. ]

So, [ Kim says dryly, ] which one of us do you think has a worse job?

[psionicmolotov]

Is that a trick question? [ Kimmuriel's retort is equally dry as he steps around the man to pick a jar of nametake off the shelf, inspecting it for a moment before putting it in his basket.

He's been buying a lot of mushroom-related things and not much of the ready-made food the convenience stores here offer. ]

I would consider them the same level of tiresome.[ This isn't the worst job he's ever had but it's definitely the most tedious labor-intensive one. ] And neither of these jobs are what we were trained to do, so it is even more irritating.

[ He feels comfortable making that assumption. Kim is professional in extreme situations in a way that suggests training on his part. ]

a(i)

[killtime]

[ It's around 3 AM when she interrupts what might otherwise have been a quiet night shift. The bell over the door dings as she leans a little too heavily on the door to push it open, moving with an uncharacteristic sloppiness that might have been attributed to drink if not for the jagged cut splitting open her left eyebrow. Bloody knuckles too, leaving red smears on the door that will undoubtedly be an inconvenience to whoever's responsible for keeping this place clean.

That would probably be the lone man behind the counter. She squints at him — half because of the blood trickling down into one of her eyes, and half because he seems familiar.

Damnable gods. It would be him. Of all the fucking souls in hell.

Andy makes a disgruntled little noise, greeting Kim dryly: ]

Evening, officer.

[aceslow]

[ Kim glances up from his reading - a flimsy novel from the bargain bin of a nearby bookstore; he's got a pen in his hand because he's barely restraining himself from scribbling in it to correct some truly horrifying grammatical errors - when the bell by the door chimes, signaling someone's entry. He's fairly certain he's supposed to greet them, but he's just as certain that nobody stumbling into a convenience store at this hour gives a shit.

He recognizes Andy's voice before he recognizes her face, brows raising in recognition. ] Didn't I tell you? I'm not an officer here. If I were, I'd hardly be here.

[ Unless he was doing some inglorious undercover duty. God, he wishes he was doing undercover duty right about now. But before his mind is able to go down that path, he takes in Andy's disheveled appearance, her bloodied knuckles, her split lip. When he'd told Andy that there were plenty of opportunties for other people to try to kill her instead, he hadn't meant for her to take it quite so literally. ]

What happened to you?

a1

[worldbent]

[It's obvious that Matoba pays no mind to service people when he wanders into the 7-11 on his daily routine and blows right past the counter. A man on a mission, he goes directly to the aisle of snack foods, grabbing a basket on the way in.]

[And there it begins. A ritual of loading up on the unhealthiest, most processed snack foods one can get hold of- 3 melonpan, a box of caplico sticks, a wheat bun, a cup of sakuranbo jelly. He pauses to hum and haw in front of a display of packaged cake slices, eventually grabbing a packaged tiramisu, and then passing the refrigerators and freezers, he grabs an ice cream bar. He almost grabs a bottle of peach soda, too, but apparently decides against it.]

[On the way to the check-out aisle, he grabs two ume onigiri. For his mid-afternoon tea.]

[It takes him all the way until he gets to the checkout counter and unceremoniously dumps all of this in front of Kim for him to actually look up and notice the man staring back at him through his dark-rimmed glasses, a silence that lasts three deadening beats before he gives a little 'ah'.]

Kim-san. What are you doing behind the counter?

[aceslow]

[ Customers coming in and unceremoniously dropping their hauls in front of him to scan is not new to Kim, though there's something distinctly unpleasant about it being someone he knows on the other side of the counter. If asked, he would never say that he joined up with the force because he lieks being in charge, but as it so happens, he really does like being in charge. The demotion from Lieutenant to shelf stocker has not been a kind one.

He glances down, tugging at the cheap polyester of his brightly coloured work uniform. ] Oh, you know. I saw what the staff wore here and was so overcome with envy that I simply had to apply.

[ He sighs. ] And it turns out that two decades of dedicated policework means very little here. [ He glances down at Matoba's goodies. Sugar, sugar, sugar...

Well, that explains it. ]

c!

[bratherine]

( Looks like she's not the only person playing fetch, huh? Though hers is far less, shall we say, canine. She's currently in the midst of trying to find a small conbini which sells a very specific type of instant ramen when a dog goes careening around the corner with a bone that could feed a family, and a few minutes later...

A dude comes asking her about a dog.

Weird. )

Went t'wards the main street. It yours?

[aceslow]

Not mine, no. It's hers.

[ With that, he gestures to the currently legless skeleton woman, nervously tapping the tips of her phalanges together, click clack, click clack, click clack. It's difficult to judge a skeleton's expressions, but if a skeleton is capable of looking out of sorts, she certainly manages it. If she sees Katherine looking her way, she'll at least give her a little wave, polite even in her distress. ]

I've been recruited in the search. [ He clicks his tongue, glancing in the direction she mentioned. ]

It couldn't have gone far, with a load like that.

[ Or so he's hoping. ]

b. the underground

[no_kyouken]

[ There are a few pretty looking hostesses in drag around the bar. A little different from the camp of the Western variety. They're here to serve drinks, make conversation, encourage people to buy some snacks, and get everyone who wants it a turn at karaoke. They facilitate the good atmosphere of the place, make sure everyone feels welcomed, attended to, seen. It's something Goromi does for fun, not so much for money, and that makes her tact with the work particularly genuine.

The hostess in question is a very tall, sleek snake yokai. She's wearing a glittery silver wrap dress, sleeveless with a deep cut down the center that shows off the large yakuza tattoo that wraps around onto her shoulders and chest. The large face down her back is hidden by fabric, but the dress has been tailored to allow her tail out the back. Her pale white scales are shimmery with some fruity smelling oil. Gold jewelry, painted nails, high heels. She's impeccably femme in her dressings and still doesn't really pass, but she's clearly more than comfortable with her look. Even the eyepatch. ]

How are ya doin' this evenin'. I'm Goromi.

[ She gets the bartenders attention for him by addressing them by name and smiling. ]

What would ya like?

[aceslow]

[ Drag has never really been Kim's thing. He's a man who has carefully constructed his own masculinity, perhaps in part because he's slight, he's homo-sexual, and he's Seolite, all things that occasionally have others making certain assumptions he'd prefer to head off at the pass. But that it's not to his personal tastes doesn't mean that he dislikes it; if anything, that there's a drag scene here as well (as different as the culture looks from the sort he's used to) is comforting, reassuring, a sign that not everything here is so terribly different from what he's used to. Besides, drag performers have always been good company to him, and even better drinking partners, back when he used to indulge in more than one or two. ]

Whiskey on the rocks. [ Goromi gets a smile back from him, warmer than his usual removed demeanor. ] Thank you. Are you a worker here?

[ Between the clientele and the hostesses, he hasn't quite figured out who's a guest, who's a performer, and who's working here. The queens at the bars he used to go to certainly never took charge of serving drinks. ]

a2

[diesuki]

[Well, then! This is more than Dazai was expecting to find while purchasing 1 can of ice coffee, 1 bottle of sake, and 1 can of... crab??? (Gods, what does this man even live on...) He should stop the robbery, of course, considering he's with the Enma, but this barely even counts as crime, does it?

More importantly: he sees Kim reaching under the counter, and he's interested to see where that will lead. So why not accommodate him by offering a little distraction?]

Sorry, I know it's impolite to cut in line and all...

[He barely even makes a show of being sorry. If anything, he looks between cluelessly happy (of which he is neither) and bored (because he is) as he wanders up to the register as if there isn't a robbery going on.]

... but I only have a ten thousand yen bill, and if you take all the money, there won't be enough to break it?

[aceslow]

[ The young thief glances over at Dazai, looking even more frantic than before. ] Hey man, don't fuck with me! I'll fuck you up too, just you fucking wait and see!

[ As for Kim -- well, it's neither appropriate nor professional for him to laugh at his audacity, so he doesn't. But there's something, some glimmer in his eyes, some hint at the corner of his mouth, that he's finding this entire thing very funny. He also knows that it's foolish to find something like this funny - nobody knows better than him how even someone who's harmless on the surface can lay down some serious hurt - but he sincerely doubts that this youth will be an example of that. ]

Mhm. That would be a problem, [ Kim says, nodding thoughtfully. ] I would hate for this to disrupt the... fun evening you've got planned.

[ God, he hopes Dazai isn't thinking of downing all three of his items in the same night. His hand moves about the counter, revealing a taser that has been living behind the counter for all employees to use in situations just like these. He also has a gun, of course, but that seems like overkill considering the threat currently being posed. He keeps it in clear view. ]

Sir, I'm going to have to ask you to put the exactoknife down.

It's not a fucking exactoknife! It's a switchblade!

[ Ah, Kim thinks to himself. This young man has just discovered the word 'fuck' and has accepted the challenge to use it in a sentence by using it in nearly every sentence. He holds up the taser, looking less than menacing. ]

If you don't, this is going to hurt you more than it will hurt me. [ His eyes flit to Dazai and back. If he was worried about a civilian getting involved, he would have zapped him already, but... well, Dazai claimed to be a murderer and seems less than bothered, so he'll take his chances. ] This is your last warning.

a2

[holeful]

[Fukuda has spent most of his short time officially contracted with the Department of the Enma just kind of wandering around aimlessly with the sort of demeanor that makes his patrol uniform look like a costume on him from vibes alone.

Obviously it's not for lack of crimes to handle in a place like Jigoku-cho, but rather his indecisiveness in his ability to actually handle them. He wants to help! He just needs like.... some starter crimes?? He's not equipped to handle big turf war scuffles, have you seen the muscles on those Shuten guys? Scary.

He was actually just stopping in the 7-11 to get some late night snacks, but when he realizes what's happening, he scuttles up to the front after grabbing the nearest heavy object he could which is a large jug of orange juice. The worlds most pathetic robbery is absolutely the perfect starter crime for this tall, lanky weirdo. He's holding the juice up like a very stubby baseball bat.]

Ah, what do they say here? Something like "in the name of the Enma, I will punish you?" That sounds good. Anyway, I think you should put down the knife.
[Nailed it.]

[aceslow]

[ It says something about this place that the last thing Kim ever expected was for someone working for the Department of Enma to actually conduct an arrest. As long as he's been here, he's never seen anyone from Enma do any substantial policework, and it's enough to make his hand pause in its journey towards the taser kept underneath the counter.

He clears his throat. ]

Technically speaking, police officers don't punish people themselves. That would be beyond your rights as an officer of the law -- your job is to prevent crimes from happening, and to allow the judicial system to handle the rest. Anything else veers towards... [ He tilts his head, considering. ] Vigilantism.

Still, it's a good start. [ He nods encouragingly at Fukuda. ] Next, try something like I hereby put you under arrest for armed robbery. Though if he walks away, a stern warning would probably do.

[ Kim thought he had managed to curb his tendency to lecture, but -- god, he really misses police work. He nods his head, deferring to the authority in this situation. ]

Khm. Please, carry on.

b

[sweetsong]

[ a familiar face in a familiar place, though it's not one that he expected to see officer kim kitsuragi in. make no mistake; he's not judging the man for being in one of his favorite bars, one that is very different than the one he has decided to work in for the past... weeks? months? time has very little relevance for robin nowadays. no--- he's just happy to see him. ]

Mister Kim!

[ robin's more than happy to take the empty seat next to him, the bartender's eyes going over to the two of them. he's quickly recognized and the pink haired boy raises a hand in greeting, receiving a nod in kind. ]

What are you doing here? Do you want a drink?

[ obviously that's what people do in bars but... well. it IS tamamo territory. ]

[aceslow]

[ Now, this is a surprise. Kim actually didn't expect to run into any acquaintances here - he certainly never did at home, or at least didn't run into any acquaintance he didn't meet at a gay bar or similar event in the first place - but Robin wasn't on his list. He's not sure if he's even old enough to drink, though that hardly matters to a globetrotting musician or someone unfortunate enough to end up in this approximation of Hell. Still, a gay bar?

Either Robin's gay as well, or he's particularly open-minded. Both options are honestly touching in their own way; Kim's an old dog, accustomed to a certain level of discretion, but it does his heart good to see younger people who feel that's not necessary. ] Ah, Robin! I wasn't expecting to see you here.

[ He does offer Robin a small smile, though. He's looking well. ] I was just about to get one, in fact. Is this where you've been working, or...?

FOR EMILY

[aceslow]

[ With a new source of income, Kim is aware that there are some necessities he ought to pick up. A better first-aid kit (the past few months have been telling on that front), a second chair, pantry staples, a decent lock for his door, some proper blinds to block out the neon lights just outside his window, some basic tools, a nest egg for emergencies...

But, of course, he pretends that those aren't on his to-do list in favour of what he actually wants, which is some additions to his wardrobe. He's found himself in one of the bigger, more prolific thrift stores in the Sutoku district, filled with a variety of both eccentric and commonplace clothing, run underneath the watchful eye of the Fukuro-Mujina that runs the place, dressed in a different elaborate get-up every time he's stepped foot into the establishment. He's in the midst of leafing through some jackets, yanking out a particularly nice one that's about three sizes too big for him when he spots a familiar face across the display. ]

Ah -- Emily, right?

[medicative]

[she's flipping through a rack of day dresses when she hears the familiar voice. she has to be almost ruthless in her evaluations - they need to fit her, but she's also hoping for the impossible that some would have the backs already altered to accommodate wings. surely, she can't be the only winged woman with this particular fashion sense?

but Kim's voice stirs her from her contemplation, and she looks up, expression quickly melting into a smile.]

Kim! I'm glad to see you're all right.

[you know. after that shootout after the parade and all.]

d

[horrifictie]

[ VISUAL CALCULUS - Ok, now turn left. 100 paces down the road should be the Sutoku Alliance block that the lieutenant lives in.
RHETORIC - Are you *absolutely* sure this time? You've led us down the wrong road twice now.
VOLITION - Don't be snippy. You know visual navigation of any kind has never been a strong suit even in the best of times. And right now is worse than usual.
INTERFACING - Turning left now. Steady as he goes.
PERCEPTION (SEEING) - There's someone outside the building up ahead. A human? Or at least a human-appearing youkai. He's looking down at something on the street.
ESPRIT DE CORPS - Hold on, it's him! Your half-brother in the flesh. He's not in his normal attire but it's unmistakable.
VOLITION - Oh, finally. Keep moving forward. Surely he can help.

Harry is no stranger to being out of sorts. It's more unusual if he was in total control of all his faculties, operating with only the same few screws loose that most all people operate under. No one is perfect and he's even less than. Yet this morning is different. He walks through the street with rigid coordination, a controlled effort to keep marching straight in line. The concrete road is a balancing beam to put one foot in front of the other on, and if he does that then he won't stagger off course. Or worse, tilt over and fall to never get up again.

It might be easy to confuse him for still being drunk, not yet at the hangover stage of processing the alcohol in his body. A fair assumption for a man still dressed in the same clothes as last night, faint body odor easy to detect if in close proximity. However this is no walk of shame. Or if it was, he is accompanied on it by a friend or two. On either shoulder, resting at the balled joint end, are two little doll friends with strange faces. A third friend is grasped in the palm of his hand, and a fourth tucked into the square pocket of a simple white dress shirt.

RHETORIC - Great, we found the lieutenant. But what now? I can't make him talk. He's refusing to cooperate.
ENDURANCE - He is only propped up on his feet by force at this stage. The man hasn't slept all night.
INLAND EMPIRE - He's terrified of his dreams. Of *the* dream. It's been happening every time he closes his eyes now. Can you blame him? We're useless.
HALF LIGHT - YOU'RE FUCKING USELESS. You're the reason he picked up these *things*!
VOLITION - Stop it, no more arguing! Look we're close enough now, the lieutenant should spot us.
INTERFACING- Slowing down to a stop. And... done. Can we maybe get a wave?
HAND/EYE COORDINATION - Waving in 3... 2... 1...

On command, his free hand raises up and gives a wave toward Kim. Harry's eyes dart to the waving appendage with a curious look. Is he doing that? He is, but it doesn't feel that way. ]

[aceslow]

[ Any embarrassment Kim feels at being caught in a state of disarray - he hasn't allowed himself to be seen like this in what must be years - quickly evaporates when he sees just who's staggering around the corner. And the word staggering is right; Harry's gait is odd, clumsy, as though he's moving on instinct alone without really thinking much about it, different from those episodes he tends to get when he stares blankly off into the distance. Those, he has come to realize, tend to either be accompanied by flashes of utter brilliance or utter stupidity, but at least he can recognize there's something churning away in that brain of his.

This is quite the opposite. Is he drunk? Hungover? Kim rises slowly to his feet, brow furrowed as he takes in Harry's disheveled appearance, clothing rumpled and muttonchops ungroomed. ]

Harry?

[ Even in his state of relative undress, Kim manages to make it look as though he's in full dress uniform, posture rigid, chin tilted proudly to the air. But though his stance is professional, his expression isn't, worriedly peering into his eyes to see any evidence of drug use, inhaling deeply to see if the scent of beer or spirits is clinging to his breath. Only then do his eyes flick over to the dolls in his possession, propped atop him like mushrooms on a stump. ]

Are you all right? What are you doing with all of those?

c

[paperpusher]

[Since Fiance of the Funeral Procession unexpectedly took off (shout-out to the Daitengu in particular), Natori's had to be a little stealthier if he wants to go about his day uninterrupted, though given that his version of stealthy involves wearing a misshapen bucket hat over his hair and a pair of questionnable glasses, maybe it's not too much of a surprise to hear he's still getting stopped. Getting asked about a dog is something of a welcome change of pace!]

Just a regular dog, not any sort of ayakashi? [It's kind of a pointless question, because surely the giant bone would be the most distinguishing feature over, like, the breed of dog? But it's still the first thing he thinks to ask.]

[aceslow]

[ To Kim's benefit, he actually has to stop and think about it, brow furrowed. He doesn't know enough about dogs or dog ayakishi to know how to answer the question. ] Do regular dogs even exist in this place? I'm not sure if I would be able to tell the difference, provided the ayakishi seems sufficiently... dog-like.

[ Natori's usage of ayakishi has caught his attention too. It's the same word as he's been using, thanks to Matoba, though he's been corrected multiple times by this point. A friend of his, perhaps? Something to inquire into further, once the task in front of him is done. ]

Regardless, I didn't see the dog myself. That... young lady over there -- [ he nods over towards the skeleton woman who, seeing that Kim is motioning towards her, gives Natori a little wave and a crooned, hello, handsome! ] -- told me that one took her leg.

d. substory 4: haniwhat?

[moondregs]

[ Junpei’s morning starts with him stubbing his toe on a haniwa sitting in the middle of his apartment floor. He’d been groggily making his way to the bathroom and not paying much attention, and when he registered what had caused his injury it chilled him for his own unique reasons.

The sockets without eyes ... the gaping mouth ... a shudder of realization runs through him: It reminds him of the transfigured humans Mahito liked to create and shrink down to carry around.

He’d seen the notice the night before from The Department of the Enma requesting the haniwa be turned in, but that was going to require picking it up. Really, he wasn’t sure if he cared enough about what the Enma wanted to overcome his trepidation - just getting it out of the apartment building would be enough. The idea of using tongs doesn’t occur to him, but he does awkwardly use his socked foot to roll it into a plastic conbini bag to escort it outside.

After making his way down the multitude of stairs to the ground floor, he’s prepared to just dump the object outside the front door and forget about its existence, already nearly vibrating with anxiety. Out of the corner of his eye he notices some commotion down the block. Turning his head and squinting he recognizes Kim ... he has one of the creepy things too. But what is he doing? Is he possessed?

While Junpei tells himself he doesn’t care what happens to the nosy guy who’d followed him home from the club over a month ago, he finds his feet carrying him in that direction. In his curiosity he totally forgets he’s still carrying his own haniwa.

Once he’s close enough to hear, he listens carefully to what Kim is saying to the figure before addressing him in his best unimpressed teen voice. The fact he’d been spooked by it too? Kim didn’t need to know that. ]

Are you expecting it to answer you?

[aceslow]

[ When Kim hears a voice behind him, he immediately feels as though he's been somehow called out for doing something wrong, between his disheveled appearance and the absurdity of talking to a statue. He stiffens, defensive, and then remembers that he is a 43-year old police detective and not some errant child who has to answer to anyone. ]

Khm.

[ He straightens up from his crouch, running his hand over the sparse stubble decorating his chin. Frankly, it's astonishing that Junpei has decided to speak to him at all after the last time they'd spoken. Kim thinks, perhaps unkindly, that he's only done so because he's able to catch Kim off-guard. That's just like juveniles. They always know when to get you. ]

Is it really that outlandish to expect a response? Everything else here with a face can talk, [ he points out. ] It makes a lot more sense for it to be alive than for it to have simply magically appeared in my lodgings.