[open] open 24 hours

[metafictions]

Who ⬤ Kamui and you
What ⬤ The extremely cursed 7/11 night shift
When ⬤ throughout May
Where ⬤ that one Sutoku/Shuten 7/11
Content Warnings ⬤ n/a for now, will update
Notes ⬤ please see Kamui's permissions to opt into having him sense your character's criminal power!

A. convenience store;

[It's 2 am, or thereabouts, and you are on a street where Shuten and Sutoku territory just barely overlap-- so it's a bit of a dodgier visit tonight. However you managed, you've finally bypassed the oni punks squatting outside the automatic doors and made your way into the waiting fluorescent arms of the 7/11, only to find...]

Welcome.

[this guy, dispassionately welcoming you to the store. Like, has he even blinked? It's like they've seated a cryptid behind the counter in a silly uniform. His lack of enthusiasm, his unbroken stare, and the strange presence his silver left eye seems to radiate all combined make this late night convenience store visit feel especially unnerving.

Sometimes, he pauses to stock the shelves, but it always sort of feels like he's watching you. Not that he's a rude cashier, or treating you like you're going to shoplift: he'll ring you up just fine. It's just his terrible vibes. Sorry.]

B. toilet dungeon;

[There's also a public restroom in this 7/11... if you can find it!]

Oh, welcome back. [says Kamui breezily, as his customer emerges from the 7/11 back door for the second-- or third?-- time.] Did you find the WC yet? I'm sorry for the inconvenience, it was cursed last week, so the hallway has gotten longer. You need to follow the directions exactly or you'll just be sent back here right away.

[In one long, breathless sentence, Kamui repeats the directions:]

Go through the door in the back, take a right, go through the fourth door, turn through the first hallway on the left, then keep going straight until you take a right at the intersection, go through the second door and you'll get to a staircase, so go all the way down and through the emergency exit on the right, take the stairs all the way up to the top, and you'll hit a T-shaped hallway, and you'll find the WC just past that.

[He blinks, head canting ever so slightly to the side.]

Please take your time.

C. hani-uhh???;

[There's a haniwa figure that has cropped up right next to the magazine aisle. Fortunately, this is one of Kamui's earlier shifts, so he's not the only employee around and won't be abandoning the register for this-- but they've still got to figure out what to do with this distinctly-cursed looking little guy before one of their oni regulars kicks it over, right?]

Erm...

[Except that, especially with his ability reactivated, it really, really feels like a bad idea to touch the clay figurine. And yet, he definitely can't just leave it there, can he?

Kamui's brows knit together with concern as he stands over it, armed with one of the tongs for hot food. He clicks them together, uncertain, before he crouches down to get a better look at it. He might be poking it with the tongs. Give it a few moments-- he's making up his mind.]

D. wildcard

[here for a vending machine substory task (or another substory)? just wanna generally harass your friendly neighborhood 7/11 cryptid? go wild my dude]

Comments

[metafictions]

You think so?

[A shy, uncertain smile tugs at his lips. Much as he wants to figure this whole look thing out for his own sake... there's no denying that the approval from Kim makes the style he's picked now a front-runner.

He fiddles with the ends of his bangs, nodding at Kim's advice. Somehow, he hadn't actually thought about just picking a page out of a magazine and bringing it to a salon. It seems so obvious, now that the option's been presented to him.]

I used to have it even shorter, actually. Honestly... it didn't look all that great. [He grimaces thinking of it. The bangs were too short, too floppy. Like some soggy-looking small animal. How on earth had he managed to not care back then?] Going back to that length, but with more thought in it, might be nice.

[And as long as their manager's not around-- which he isn't-- he's content to goof off with Kim. It's comforting; it feels almost normal. No time loops, no trans-dimensional travel. Just a friend to pass a boring shift with.

Taking the phone in one hand, he pushes his hair back with his free one. In his reflection he sees... the look of every tough guy on the force, ever, but on his gentler face. At last, the smile bubbles into a laugh.]

Okay, maybe not like that. Reminds me way too much of my old coworkers.

[aceslow]

It's not the length. It's the style. Though... admittedly, it's easier to style when it's a bit longer. My hair used to be longer too.

[ Back when he was younger, working in juvie and pretending to be a kid, more often than not. His round spectacles and his hair did a lot of the work for him, a messy, unkempt fringe making him look as though he's a shabby high schooler instead of a man well into his twenties. It was a joyous day when he finally got to shear that mess off. He touches lightly at his own head, hair shellacked with an ample amount of hair wax.

Still, he's glad to see that Kamui is feeling a little encouraged by all of this. The kid - no matter what he's been through, it's difficult for Kim to look at him and see anything but kid - deserves some fun, some contentment when he looks in the mirror. He gets the impression he's been too busy with the job to be able to muster it before.

He clicks his tongue, feigning offense, though the crows feet at the corners of his eyes give him away. ] Yes, yes, I get it. You don't want to look like us old guys.

[ That's his hairstyle, Kamui! Just with a fashionable undercut! (And some irritating cowlicks, but he'd thank people not to point out.) ]

Just be careful about what you choose, [ he teases, tapping at a particularly pretty boy on the page. ] Otherwise you'll look like you belong to a boy band. What's this one called...? 2 BeCum 1? But there's six of them... and the spelling.

[ ... ]

I'm vetoing that one.

[metafictions]

You're not old, Kim. I promise.

[His hand falls away, sending his hair messily back into his face. With a wry expression, Kamui brushes the strands away from his face once more. If anything, he's older than Kim by... who knows how long, though he doesn't make the comment: he's having fun being a normal 27 going on 227 (maybe?)-year-old right now.]

And, at any rate, the shave-- [He gestures to the location of Kim's undercut on his own head.] Makes it look much cooler. A bit younger. It's hardly the same as half the men in the HCU slicking back their hair and simply calling it a day. [It's only now that he's discovering he found that... boring? Huh. He'd much rather wear his hair down then have to look like the rest of them.

Kamui squints at the prettyboy skeptically. He looks handsome, in an unsettling and almost manufactured way.] No, no. You should veto him. All six of him.

Do girls really like this? He sort of doesn't look real.

[aceslow]

ReputationGrows("kim")

Yes, well. It doesn't do to be lazy about it.

[ It's a pain in the ass, is what it is. Every time he has to go away for work or gets too wrapped up in things to adhere to his ordinary schedule, his hair, while thinning, still grows like a weed; the downside of undercuts is that they require too much maintenance. But Kim's too vain to ever do as Kamui says and simply give up on the ghost, even moreso whenever someone acknowledges that it makes him look cool. Which it does. If it didn't, he wouldn't bother.

Pleased, but dutifully pretending as though he isn't, he leans down to squint at the pretty boys on the page. They're not his type. His type is... well... one of those strict Dolorian women who helped run the home where he grew up just thought Kim was getting really into sports and had considered wrestling at a certain point in his life. He had told her, bald-faced, that he felt that he thought that girls would like it if he were to get fit, and she hadn't questioned his sudden predilection for fitness ever again. ]

I'm afraid I don't know much about what young ladies are genuinely into, [ Kim admits. ] Maybe them not looking real is the point. I think it has something to do with them being... how should I put this... non-threatening?

[ He glances over at Kamui and his round, non-threatening face. ]

I suppose style also depends on what you hope to achieve with it. If it's picking up women, that's another thing entirely.

[metafictions]

[yes good give him the Good Boy Points.

With his very newly burgeoning self-image, he can't relate much to any sense of vanity-- but he has, in turn, also landed on the fact that these men aren't his type either. He'd lived in a sort of neutral haze for most of his life-- going through the motions of his existence, counting the days until what he is and was would at last kick in-- that his love life's taken a spot far, far back on the furthest burner from the front. He's never really considered what his tastes might be there, either.

But the logic here holds. A boy so pretty he's more like a fantasy than a prospect. Still scrutinizing the boy band, Kamui hums thoughtfully, as if Kim has just uttered some deeply foundational philosophical truth. It makes a lot of sense.]

So they are.

[He tilts his non-threatening head inquisitively.]

Oh, no. I'm not trying to pick up women at all. [A beat of silence. Speaking of a burgeoning self-image, perhaps he should... clarify?] I am interested in women, but I'm just a bit more focused on myself at the moment is all.

[aceslow]

Thank you for that, Kamui. For a moment I was petrified you were not attracted to women. I don't know if my heart could deal with the shock, [ Kim says dryly, though he's not going to give him too hard of a time, considering the circumstances. Still, what a way of putting it. He places one hand flat on the magazine and rips out the page that Kamui had been considering it with a long, clean sweep, folds it in half, and hands it to him. ]

In that case, you can focus on looking good for yourself. And if you happen to pick up any women along the way, that can be a happy accident, hm? Best not to rule anything out. [ He pauses. ] And if you want my advice, try to find a hairdresser that at least looks human. I shudder to think of what one of those ladies with snakes for hair would do to you.

[metafictions]

[He quips back, equally dry:] Don't worry, Uncle. Your health is my utmost priority.

[Either way, Kamui takes the magazine page, folds it one more time, and stuffs it into an inside pocket. They've wasted a lot of work's time, but maybe he'll have something to show for it if he can, at last, change up his look. Any potential happy accidents aside.

He smiles sheepishly:] Thanks, Kim. I don't usually have anyone who'll be a sounding board for stuff like this. It's really nice to talk to you.

[A bit overly earnest, maybe, but he means every word. He glances up at the clock, though, chuckling softly to himself.] And really nice to make the shift go faster, too.

[aceslow]

[ Kim pauses, oddly touched by Kamui's earnestness. He's had a fondness for the man from the day he had first met him, a refreshing taste of normalcy in a world gone mad. Though his initial impression couldn't be any more incorrect, he does not regret the assumption; if he had thought otherwise, he doubts he would have given Kamui the chance that he deserved. It's been a long time since anyone had expressed such genuine gratitude towards him for something so small. He's not sure if he is simply unaccustomed to normal human interaction after so many years being ground down into dust by the streets of Revachol or if Kamui simply has low standards for what amounts to kindness and companionship. Or low standards for what would drive him to call someone Uncle. Uncle.. Honestly. ]

It's nothing, really, [ he says with a flick of his fingers. Then he pauses, offering Kamui a small smile. ] But... the company is nice, yes. This job would be a great deal less pleasant without it.

[ He looks away, suddenly. ]

Khm. Speaking of which, I should really get on restocking, hm? If we don't get things done between the two of us, we'll never hear the end of it.