jigokulogs | [ OPEN ] scaring at the sky

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[ OPEN ] scaring at the sky

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! ]

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[ At booths and tables, you can see the various hostesses managing the drink orders, accepting and pouring them, making conversation and always seeming interested. It's the experience that people come for, the attentions of someone glamorous all to themselves. The expectations are purchases, all the hostesses drinks covered in exchange. The goal for the house is to have the hostesses upsell guests into the more expensive drinks and food.

Over at the bar, it's a little more informal. The hope in general is to coax these people over to the tables with the more expensive service, but sometimes the girls just take a break too. They can still just come and talk more like regular patrons for a little bit before starting their work on the tables again.

It's a very Japanese thing and it's a formula Majima knows well. He ran several clubs like this. One an enormous glittering spotlight that everyone knew about and another one tucked into a side street, just getting itself off the ground. In the little one, he trained all those girls personally. Picked out their outfits, did their makeup and hair. Now he just does it on himself, tada: Goromi.

She puts in Kim's order with the bartender, the impression being that it should be done without delay when the hostesses are asking for it. ]

Yeah, I'm a part-timer though. I bounce between a coupla places.

[ The drink gets given to her and she arranges it on a napkin before pushing it over with both hands in a very neat, professional gesture. Her head dips in a gracious little bow. There's a whole way that Japanese hostesses do things. ]

What's your name?

Thank you.

[ He accepts the drink with a nod and takes a sip, ice clinking against the sides of the chilled glass. He hasn't had a drink in a few months now and it burns pleasantly in his chest and warms his gut, a quick reminder of what his frequent sobriety makes him miss out on. He doesn't regret his commitment to rarely indulging, but it makes nights like these taste all the sweeter.

Just the same, not knowing the culture here, he hopes that the hostess isn't expecting more from him, whether that's the ability to ply him to drink more or to pay her extra for her time. It's not what he's here for and not what he has the money for, besides. But a little conversation is rarely unwelcome, and someone canny enough to interpret a bar full of patrons' desires will likely catch on quickly to the fact that he's a dead end. ]

My name is Kim. [ In a place like this, he doesn't need to bother with his last name. He glances around the bar, at the wealthy men delighting in the company of the hostess' sidled up next to them. ] I must admit, this bar is different from the ones back home. Not in a bad way, mind.

[ Not in a good way either. Just different. ]

And what's your name?

Goromi.

[ Goromi desu. The way all of the hostesses introduce themselves has almost a musical quality to it. ]

It's a pleasure to meet ya. Been meetin' a lotta people lately who've never been to a hostess club. They're big in top-side Japan, famous for 'em. I used t'run a couple.

[ Her smile is a faint little quirk at the corner of her mouth. ]

Ah, another person from Japan. That seems to be a trend around here. [ Kim himself looks distinctly East Asian -- enough so that people have naturally assumed that he's from Japan as well. But the moment he opens his mouth, those misconceptions immediately vanish; while Kim would describe his accent as Revacholiere, for most people here, it's recognizable as a thick French accent, vowels rounded, consonants soft. ] That does explain it, though. Where I'm from, ladies such as yourselves tend to be on-stage performing, not rubbing elbows with the rest of us. Save for an afterparty or two, but those don't count.

[ And he hasn't been to one of those in a number of years either, though he remembers it fondly, youthful nerves soothed by a steady supply of liquor and, if he was feeling brave, perhaps a puff of reefer. ]

Did you work in your own clubs back home as well?

Mostly when I was trainin' th'girls. Sometimes it's just easier t'show 'em than tell 'em. This act takes a lotta practice, ya know?

[ There's a cheekiness when she calls it an act outright, but they're not over at the tables doing the whole song and dance. ]

Those girls were a headache, but I miss 'em. Guess I wasn't ready t'let go, since here I am.

I can only imagine.

[ It's true. Kim has never considered himself to be a particularly personable man. He can just about muster polite, but there's a skill that comes with making others feel happy and at ease, which is a skill he's never mastered. He's never had to. His job mostly consists of bossing people around and delivering bad news. ]

Well, perhaps one day you'll run a club of your own here as well. I haven't gotten that far, but you wouldn't be the first to chase down such lofty professional aspirations here. I doubt that the Tamamo District would have difficulty sustaining another.

[ Really, Kim's never seen so many pleasure houses in his life. The mistress in charge of the Tamamo Clan must be quite the businesswoman. ]

Depends on Toraguma.

[ Funny story, she's a Shuten. ]

He ain't real interested in what I can earn. Wants me leadin' th'big dopes in Shuten. So this is just for fun on my off nights.

[ She rests her chin in her hand and gives a little wave to the bartender for her own drink. She is so deep in her femme that it might be hard to imagine her busting heads with the Shutens during the day. But that's part of Majima too, a different release valve to a patently troubled soul.

Rather than dwell though -- very unbecoming for a hostess -- she perks up to ask him, ]

Which clan are ya in, Kim?

[ Kim's brows rise at Goromi's admission. To take on a job such as this, on Tamamo turf, Kim had naturally assumed that she was one of Tenko-hime's many workers. He thinks back to the turf war in the sewers that he'd seen, the ferocity with which the Tamamo and Shuten clan members had gone against each other, and thinks with some regret that her days here may be numbered.

He hopes not, though. If someone enjoys this work enough to seek it out for pleasure, not for money, it would be a great shame to lose that. ]

I have to admit, that's not what I expected. I'm in Sutoku. [ With neither the muscle that usually comes with Shuten members, nor the delicate features and youth that usually come with Tamamo members, that's no great surprise. ] The Daitengu doesn't seem to care much about what we do in our leisure time either, provided it doesn't interfere with our duties. [ He quirks a brow. ] It makes sense. People are more productive when they're not on the verge of burning out.

[ Does organized crime worry about burn-out? Probably not. It hasn't been Kim's experience that organized anything cares about burnout. ]

[ She smiles with total cheerfulness. There was actually an incredibly easy way to tell that she was probably a Shuten and she'll tell him, so he has the knowledge for later, ]

I'm a yakuza. Ya can tell from these.

[ She points to the tattoo that wraps over her shoulder and onto her chest and biceps. She almost always wears a dress that shows her shoulders and chest, if not also the full piece down her back. Part of this look is the juxtaposition of what is hard and what is soft. That dichotomy is what defines Majima and even his tattoo speaks to it: beautiful flowers and elegant snakes but caught up in the dark vortex of an angry, feminine hannya mask. ]

Ya look like a Sutoku.

[ A little nerdy for sure. But nerds are cute too, it's fine. ]

Th'hell is burn out though?

[ This lady comes to you from 1988 when the term may have been coined in research but was not in the popular dialog. 'Karoshi' kills a lot of people in Japan though. ]

Edited (...coin may have been termed....) 2022-05-21 18:27 (UTC)

So I've been told. [ He's not sure if he should take it as an insult or not, considering what Sutokus are generally responsible for. Does he really look like some sort of businessman? For a man who had once prided himself on his occupation - though not one he'll freely advertise to someone so entrenched in the gang lifestyle as to print it on her body; it's a culture that's completely absent in Revachol, though Kim privately thinks that being able to identify gangmembers through tattoos seems pretty convenient from a cop's perspective - he seems to have fit right into the rest of his clan. ]

Burn-out is... [ He considers how to phrase it. He tilts his glass of whiskey, ice clinking up against the sides, then takes a slow, considering sip. ] Frankly, it's when you work your people to death. Long hours, without adequate support, whether that be time off to recuperate or the provision of some sort of mental health care. It's the sort of lifestyle that will make your people drown themselves in the bottom of a bottle - or worse - instead of just being able to go to the bar for a libation every now and then.

[ He nods at his own glass at that. He's not the sort to indulge in more than a glass at a time these days, though it's certainly not because he's not overworked; he's just been blessed with the personality of someone who reflexively denies themselves little pleasures, and his job has made that tendency even easier. ]

From a human perspective, it's unethical, certainly. But resources are hard to come by, so there's often no other choice.

[ Harry would blame capitalism. Kim would not be so hasty to do that, but has to admit that it's been a tremendous strain. ]

Oh, Japan's got that. That's th'Way of th'Salary Man, for sure.

[ Her mouth quirks a little. Yakuza die for their work for a different reason: to keep their way of life alive, to uphold the values they honor, to support the men they admire. They think it's honorable, a revolt against the crushing indifference of katagi life. It's debatable how honorable it actually turns out, what with all the bloodshed and backstabbing and greed. ]

Wasn't ever gonna be me though.

[ A middle school drop out who grew up on the streets before swearing up with the yakuza. She tilts her head with curiosity, ]

What about you?

It's the way of most professions, honestly. Unless you happen to have had the luxury of being born into wealth. [ That way lies more talk about politics than Kim prefers, but it's true. Burnout is legendary among the RCM but it's hardly exclusive to them. Whether you're a grocery clerk, a construction worker, a police officer or a cop, your place of business will be understaffed and overworked, dealing with the problems that naturally come about when you live in a land that never had the opportunity to recover from war and destitution.

It's not a good discussion to have at a bar, though, and Kim is fully aware of his tendency to be overly serious; this is a place for easy conversation and for fun and he will make the active effort to keep it that way. He regards Goromi thoughtfully over the rim of his glass, as though deciding whether or not to answer her question.

Though their profession would typically make them mortal enemies, Kim decides that it's really not relevant here. ] I am a Lieutenant in the Revachol Citizens Militia. The police. [ Though it operates differently from some more traditional policing systems, as Kim has come to understand it.

Dryly, he says, ] And here, I am a clerk at a convenience store. Maybe one day I'll even be promoted to Assistant Manager.

Ooh.

[ Lips pursed with wry amusement. Not just a nerdy Sutoku, but also a cop. Majima's general opinion of the police is poor, but he has met a few who might have been worth knowing. He can withhold judgement. Goromi, of course, cares even less. Customers are customers. ]

Lemme know if ya make it big, we'll celebrate.

[ Her fangy smile is genuine. ]

I will. Maybe by then, I'll be able to afford two drinks, [ Kim says wryly. ] I'll be living the high life then.

[ He rolls the glass between the palms of his hands, his leather gloves - good quality, and certainly not bought locally - soaking up the condensation speckling the outside of the glass. ]

I'm sure you're too professional to say otherwise - [ she is at work; Kim has not forgotten that she likely considers it her job to keep him in a good mood ] - but I'm surprised my old occupation didn't incur more of a reaction. Your profession and my own aren't exactly on good terms.

[ Nor are cops particularly common in gay bars. Though, like Kim, most cops that went to gay bars would hardly admit to the fact. ]

[ She looks away for a moment, still smiling. When Majima was a kid, he spent most of his time outside the house. Drunk parents who didn't want to be parents and couldn't really afford to be either, that kind of thing. You have a lot of run-ins with the cops when you're an angry, lonely, feral kid. His life was already terrible, and these thugs with badges were always making it worse. They didn't understand, they didn't care, and neither did anyone else.

Easy fodder for a yakuza recruitment.

These feelings are much too complicated and personal for her to explain out loud. ]

Me an' my profession aren't always on good terms either.

[ That eye didn't cut out itself. ]

But we all got our lives t'live, huh?

Most people aren't.

[ Kim doesn't think he's ever met anyone truly happy in their job. Kim certainly isn't; he's said himself that it was a bad life decision, but after decades in the force, he can't imagine a life outside of it. Curious as it is that Goromi would voice the thought out loud, it's not a surprise. It just makes him think of Madre's poppy fields, populated by his own men and cops alike...

He shakes it off. ]

But yes, we do. And once we make that decision, we're often stuck in it. [ He glances at Goromi curiously. ] I've heard some speak of this place as one of reinvention. A do-over, so to speak.

[ An amused little smile. She takes out a little silver cigarette tin, fiddles one out and sets it at her lip. ]

Sure, that's a sweet way t'look at it.

[ Cigarette drifting smoke. ]

Should be dead a couple times over so I'll take what I can get, ya know?

It's not necessarily the way I see it. I'm a bit past that point, myself. [ If he wanted to start over again, he wouldn't do it here, and certainly not at his age. At 43, he's not exactly over-the-hill, but he's set enough in his ways that changing course at this point seems unfeasible.

Still, if others can manage it here, then all the power to them. He kicks back the rest of the drink and exhales past the burn in his chest. It's been a while since he's had a drink - months, by his reckoning - and he's no longer used to that sensation. ]

It's the right attitude, though. One foot in front of the other. [ He sets the glass down with a quiet clink. The bartender leans in to take it, asking if he wants another, and Kim shakes his head. ] No, no, that's quite enough for me, thank you. [ He turns to Goromi. ] And thank you, as well, for the company.

[ She sets her cigarette aside she gets to her feet, pressing into her grateful bow for his visit. She was working, after all. She remains standing with her hands folded and a smile. ]

Do your best out there, Mr. Kim.

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[ OPEN ] scaring at the sky

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