[ 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. ]

[aceslow]

Mm. Maybe?

[ It's easier for Kim to glean some humour from the situation when speaking to someone in the same boat, obviously overqualified for his position and suffering because of it. There's something to communal suffering, after all. Like Kimmuriel, this is not by far one of Kim's worst jobs, but certainly the worst he's had in a number of years. ]

At least you get some fresh air with yours. But then, at least I have the luxury of reading when not being assaulted by hordes of children and their slushies.

[ One had put their mouth on the spigot and let it flow earlier today. It had been disgusting. ]

Either way, my usual job simply is not an option here. And I'm betting that yours isn't either.

[ He has a feeling that Kimmuriel's previous job was something violent, or at least in service of violence; he has the skillset for it, after all. He won't pry, but there's an undeniable lilt of a question in his voice, curious about what Kimmuriel's career could have possibly been. ]

[psionicmolotov]

I have had more fresh air today than I can stand, personally. [ He raises his free hand to the opposite shoulder, gingerly massaging it with a slight grimace. ] But I do not have to engage with the public beyond transactions, so it evens out somewhat.

[ He's pretty sure he saw the aftermath of that incident. It had not been pretty. ]

I am not nearly knowledgeable enough about this city to serve in anything close to my former role. You bet correctly. [ The thought is a bothersome one, but only mildly so. He is nothing if not patient, even when it comes to the restoration of his powers.

He gives him a glance at the unspoken question, and then shrugs a little, dropping his hand. ] I was the co-leader of a mercenary company.

[ The look he gives in return is expectant. ]

[aceslow]

[ In other words, Kim thinks, he's a military contract worker. It's not a profession he has much respect for. It's also not one he's known anyone to take up willingly without having gone through great trials beforehand but, at the end of the day, there's no hardship that can make Kim feel sympathetic to the sort of things he's heard about. Unbidden, he thinks of the Krenel Mercenaries and that awful man who had stood shouting by the gates of the Harbour, the glee with which he had spoken of the awful things he did. Even for someone as experienced as Kim, that had been... troubling to hear.

Looking at Kimmuriel, his flat affect firmly in place, he has a hard time placing him among their ranks. ]

A mercenary contractor. I see. [ It's impossible to tell what he's thinking from his expression and tone alone. When he wants to be - which is often - Kim is a stone wall. ] What sort of work did that usually entail? I'm familiar with the term and how it works where I am from, but I imagine it may be different in your world.

[ It's benefit of the doubt, at least. He doesn't have Kimmuriel pegged as a good man. But nor does he have him pegged as a bad one. ]

[psionicmolotov]

[ Kimmuriel would not hesitate to describe himself as a bad person - his deeds alone would land him in that category, another reason he's not even remotely surprised to end up in hell. But describing Jarlaxle's mercenary company?

Well, his partner is not here to explain it, so he supposes he must do it in his stead.

He inspects condiments and other snack foods lined up on the shelf, not certain about which one he wants to try. Most of these flavours are new to him, so he's going to scrutinize them a little longer. He raises a hand, moving it along the shelves, clearly interested in their contents. ]

Many things. Gathering and selling information, making connections we could later use for favours or for trade, working as hired blades...there was plenty of such work in our home city. Murder for power is a popular sport among my kind, especially in the Houses of the ruling class. Though at first, the recruits spent as much time killing one another over petty disputes as they did whoever they were hired to kill - drow are not raised to trust one another.

It was my partner who held it together. Who still holds it together.

[ His hand pauses on a bottle. He's getting a little off-topic with the question, he knows, and giving much away, but he feels he really cannot explain the mercenary band and its activities without its distinctive, flamboyant founder. ]

He transformed a bickering, disparate group into a force that was able to hold together under pressure and survive.

Eventually, he charged us with the protection of an entire surface city. [ He shakes his head, but there's the feeling he's more disbelieving than actually annoyed about it. ] We continue to do as we did before, but in its defense rather than our own survival. We are half merchants and half mercenaries, at this point.

[ He stops staring at the bottles and turns to look at Kim properly, shrugging as he does so. ]

A longwinded way to answer a simple question. But we have been and done many things over the centuries, usually to serve Jarlaxle's interests.

[ There was like, a coup and shit and that's how HE ended up being basically leader for a century but like you know what. That's embarrassing. He made shit decisions. He doesn't want to talk about that part. ]

[aceslow]

[ Kim listens carefully to what Kimmuriel has to say. It's not like the mercenaries he knows, he comes to admit. It is not unlike the mercenaries he knows either; they certainly felt a strong bond of friendship between them and would live and die for each other, had peddled in information and violence, had been raised in such dire straits that they were forced to pursue that work in the first place. But it is not quite like them either.

He is silent for a long moment in a way many would perceive as judgment, and they would not be altogether incorrect about that. But Kim prides himself on being a thoughtful listener and in not saying the first thing that pops into his mind. He crosses his arms, thinking. How strange it is that everything Kimmuriel says, he says without any apparent emotion. He's not one to talk on that front, but from everything to the people in his charge killing each other over petty squabbles to his family demolishing themselves in their frantic bid for power, he's neither batted an eye, nor done so much as frown. Though what he knows of Kimmuriel's lifespan must have something to do with it. It is easier to speak of older hurts.

He nods, fishing a handkerchief from out of his front pocket and cleaning off his glasses. ] You've mentioned him before -- your partner. It sounds as though you two are very close. And that you have great admiration for him.

[ And that he follows him. It is difficult, to imagine Kimmuriel following anyone. ]

What are those interests? Power? Or something else?

[psionicmolotov]

[ If there were any other drow to compare to, Kimmuriel would stand out as something of an expressionless anomaly. As it is, though, terribly enough, he's the reference for normalcy among people who have never seen another drow.

He does show some emotion then, at the mention of admiration; something of a rueful expression, the twitch of a slight smile, like he's not sure what to make of it. Does he admire Jarlaxle? He doesn't know, truthfully. Sometimes he certainly doesn't know what to make of him, but he certainly doesn't want to kill him. He supposes he could stop there; that alone would be good enough.

He still hasn't really sorted it out yet, where he usually sets his impressions in confident stone. That alone speaks volumes. ]

Power, yes. People. Treasure. The whole world could be his interest if it catches his eye...if he wants something, he must have it. [ His tone gets a bit exasperated here. How many times has he been forced to bring forth the company on his absurd schemes? Too many times to count. ]

Freedom, most of all. He wishes to break himself free of the city of our birth. Once I had thought it impossible, but yet again he defies my calculations and proves me wrong. [ He sighs in a manner that suggests these are old grievances, something he's very familiar with but will complain about anyway. There's a fondness to it. ]

He is an absurd man, and a very stubborn one, but not a stupid one. Try as I might, I cannot predict him.

[ With anyone else that might be said in an unsettled or aggressive way. Here, though? It comes out differently, a more comfortable annoyance. ]

[aceslow]

[ There it is. A glimpse of emotion, though only when the topic of his partner has arisen. Strange, isn't it? Usually people who are reflexively flat in their affect take pains not to let that fluctuate, and when they do, it's generally through violent anger and not exasperated affection. Kim's not sure how he feels about his mission statement of getting anything, everything. It's frustrating as it ever was not to know more about these worlds and these people's places in it. To fight for freedom is a noble notion, but what does it look like in practice? Revachol had fought to become free, and all they had gotten out of it was decades of economic poverty, robbed of a seat at the table, barred from taking to the skies, and a generation of war orphans much like Kim himself. If his parents had asked for his opinion on the matter when he was a child, he would have preferred to have parents than to know that they died in their failure to pursue an impossible ideal. ]

Unpredictability would be a benefit after centuries, I suppose, [ Kim points out thoughtfully. ] You've been together for centuries, you said? At least you must never get bored.

[ But to be alive for centuries is an awful thought. These people must be so dreadfully tired after centuries of fighting. Kim's only been on the earth for 43 years and he's already exhausted. ]

I've already pried a great deal, but I have to admit, I'm curious: what's barring you from leaving the city of your birth?

[ Though they've certainly broken free of it now, albeit in a way they neither anticipated nor desired. ]

[psionicmolotov]

There is that. He refuses to be bored, and I receive the burden of what he thinks of as entertainment. [ By the way he says it, it's not actually as much of a burden as he says it is. ]

It is nothing. [ His impassive tone, already shaken free by those small displays of prior emotion, is a little less of a stone wall than it was. It's almost something approaching friendliness?????? Maybe??? If you look really hard?? ] Though I admit, this is a strange place to have the conversation.

[ But hey, he's having the conversation at all. So.

Boy, Isn't That Just The Question. ] Let me see...we are raised to distrust and to betray one another, and have the only thing that binds us all together in cooperation be our hatred of everything that is not another drow. We are taught to worship a goddess who delights in our disharmony. And we are all crammed together into an underground city surrounded by inhospitable tunnels full of even more inhospitable creatures.

[ He sighs. ] And if we travel to the Surface, we carry all it taught with us. Our home is the only thing that is familiar, and so we wish to return to it because it is the only thing that will accept us, even if we know it will kill us in time.

[ So, basically, centuries of religious trauma and indoctrination and being raised in a horrifying cult environment hotbox where total disregard for each other's lives is not only normal but ideal means ten thousand years of baggage. ]

[aceslow]

[ Kim feels oddly as though he should be offering his condolences for Kimmuriel growing up in such a shithole. He doesn't, however. The comparison probably holds no merit - Kimmuriel doesn't appear to have any love for his homeland, whereas Kim loves his own homeland with a determination that borders on desperation - but for all of Revachol's flaws, he would not abide other people speaking ill of her. Not in the way that they would offer him condolences merely for having the poor luck of being born in her troubled embrace. ]

It is a strange place to have it, isn't it? Good thing it's a quiet night. I'd hate to be interrupted from this so somebody can buy a pack of cigarettes and some condoms, [ Kim says wryly. ] I can see why you two would be eager to leave. Though... you're right about one thing. You can never truly leave behind where you're from. It's part of what makes this place, and all the people we meet here, so odd. We have little common ground to stand on.

[ He's been thinking about that for a good, long time. Revacholiers, whether he loved or hated them, had something that he knew and understood, something at the core of them he could grow to love. The only thing he has in common with the people here is that they by and large wished they could be somewhere else. ]

I hope the two of you achieve your goal one day. Though I can't imagine that life on the Surface will be easy -- merely difficult in a different way.

[ And filled with considerable prejudice. If Kimmuriel and his partner are immediately recognizable as Drow and the people of the Surface hold just as much animosity towards them as Kimmuriel seems to, their road will be a difficult one indeed. ]

[psionicmolotov]

We would both be bored to death if it was easy. [ But there's a slight give in the way he says it, not his usual inflexible nigh-emotionless tone. Amusement, or perhaps a shred of something like gratitude for the understanding Kim has granted him in this. ]

...Things others simply take for granted here are almost completely foreign to others, it is true. It is easy to tell who already brings a place like this with them. [ He almost envies it, in a small way. But then, surely familiar things would lull you into a false sense of security in hell, so perhaps he should pity it instead? ] The only thing we seem to all have in common is that we are all similarly lost, without a sense of belonging here, though I think even that will change in time.

[ You can get used to anything, he supposes. He doesn't think he will, but some might.

A slight pause, and then: ]

Now I have told you something of myself...what did you do before you came here?

[aceslow]

[ Kim truly doubts he will ever feel that he belongs here. Somehow - in a way he neither is able to identify nor wants to identify - the fact that this place bears some resemblance to what people in Revachol would call his motherland makes it that much harder. There is no reminder of how little you belong somewhere than to be recognized as others as one of their own and to have to tell them in a hundred little ways that that is not the case, that has never been the case, that will never be the case. It's odd. He preferred it when he stuck out. At least he felt he could take some ownership of that.

Idly, he reaches out to a can on the shelf, adjusting it so that the label faces the customer more neatly, giving into his compulsion to tidy. ] Perhaps.

[ Kimmuriel's next question is easier to answer, though he doesn't have a great one. ]

My life has not been nearly as exciting as yours, I'm afraid. There's no great adventure in my past. I was a member of the Revachol Citizens Militia -- the police. I gave them two decades of loyal service.

[ He gestures down at his uniform, obnoxious red in awful polyester. ]

And now I am here.

[psionicmolotov]

[ Ah, law enforcement. He's never had many good run-ins with what Menzoberranzanyr would call 'justice', but this human seems a reasonable sort. He'll reserve his judgement...well, more than normal amount of judgement. ]

...Having a less eventful life is to be commended. [ He idly goes through his basket as he speaks, checking if he needs anything else. ] Excitement has only a few benefits and often brings many other complications in its wake. [ He likes things to be steady and consistent, at least to a point. Day to day operations are more palatable than inane jaunts across half the continent, even if he can't wholly deny that some part of him enjoys it. ]

Is your home in any sort of disarray? I do not often hear 'militia' referred to as the major peacekeeping body. [ The closest he knows of is Neverwinter and...

Well, the less said about Neverwinter the better. Gods only know what was going on over there. ]

[aceslow]

Well...

[ Kim frowns, considering. He's spoken to others about his home already, bits and pieces, but every time cannot help but feel as though he is doing it a disservice. He realizes that from the outside looking in, there is little that Revachol holds to be seen as enviable or desirable from an outside perspective. Revachol is a city that has been torn from within. It always has been and always will be. Sometimes Kim wishes that he could convey why he loves it as well -- but he cannot list the reasons and lacks the poetic spirit to convey a feeling. ]

It's complicated. The term 'militia' was grandfathered in, in a way, from the force that arose when our nation was embroiled in a civil war: the Insulindian Citizens Militia, or so some believe. [ It's vague. It has no reason to be vague - it was founded within Kim's lifetime - beyond the fact that it benefits them to be vague about that sort of thing. Don't take a stance, or else you risk alienating the people who pay your bills. ]

The war officially came to an end not long after I was born. In actuality, it lasted much longer, just to a smaller degree. Now... it remains in a post-war limbo. [ Kim shrugs. ] I certainly prefer it to a mid-war limbo.