jigokulogs | [OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

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[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

⬤ Andy @ the CR Meme ⬤
⬤ Permissions Post ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Scythia (now of Enma) & YOU!
What ⬤ The bastard woman drinks and brawls her way through May substories
When ⬤ Throughout the month of May
Where ⬤ A bar, a backlot, and a bloody arena
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!

A | MOON MEDICINE / SUBSTORY #1

[ This might be the most alive she's felt since arriving in hell. Whatever the fuck was in that medicinal mochi — it's like being high on cocaine and bloodlust at the same time. It feeds into that part of her that has always loved a fight. That up-close and personal shit where you can practically smell your opponent's breath. That's what she was raised on, seven thousand years ago on the Eurasian steppe — heir of the warrior-queen, bare and bloody on the battlefield, her mother's axe in her right hand.

No axe now. No battlefield either. Just the dirty alley out behind some dive bar. But that look in her eye is the same now as it was back then, wild and bright as she slams her fist into the unrecognizable pulp that was formerly the face of the yokai who had gotten fresh with her inside. Her knuckles are split open, but she doesn't seem to notice. Tunnel vision, everything else utterly irrelevant while her opponent is still standing — and he is, just barely. Just enough to take another clumsy swing at her, a move so obvious and slow that, in her violent fervor, she barks out a mean laugh, teeth bared. Bracing herself, she lets gravity do most of the work as she catches her victim by the clothes and flings him out of the alley towards street —

Right into anyone unfortunate enough to be passing by. ]

B | VEND ME A DREAM / SUBSTORY #2

[ Normally, on a day like this, Andy would have found some way to drink herself into oblivion by now. But she's spent most of her time in hell hungover, and somewhere between the constant headaches and violent nausea, she figured her newly mortal body was probably begging her for a break from the bottle. But being both idle and sober lends itself too readily towards her tendency to wallow uselessly in her own misery, so when the shirime approaches her with its winking butthole and a request for item A5, well...

Fuck it. It's not as if she has anything better to do.

That's how she winds up in that backlot, leaning up against a porno vending machine with a dwindling cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she flips through Juicy Peaches. The look on her face is one of stoic apathy, but either she's bored or the asses within are just that compelling, because she's still turning pages. This page in particular has her head turning slightly one way, then the other as she considers it. Out loud, to nobody in particular: ]

...That's a fucking fish.

[ Given the context, she might mean that literally. Only one way to find out. ]

C | BRUISED & BLOODY / SHUTEN TERRITORY ARENA

[ She'd been beating up people for free in bars this whole time, so it seemed only practical to at least get paid for that shit. The booze and cigarettes don't pay for themselves — and gods forbid that Andy hold a regular nine-to-five. She'd rather have her bones broken. Besides, she makes for a good underdog bet. Compared to some of the monstrous yokai that have stood opposite her in the ring, Andy looks decidedly ordinary. A woman who is neither particularly tall or strong. Nothing to betray the centuries she's spent mastering different ways of using her body to cause others pain. Except maybe that certain look in her eye. Something sharp. Something a little mean.

On one of the nights that she fights, she might find herself facing off against another Lost Soul in her next match. Or maybe afterward, with her left arm hanging loosely from its socket, she might be looking for someone to lend her hand — hopefully someone who isn't too squeamish to shove a shoulder back in. Otherwise, after the fighting is done, she makes a habit of smoking a cigarette right outside the arena, usually more interested in indulging that bad habit than patching herself up. ]

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[ She takes a little cigarette tin from the small pocket in her dress. She lights one for herself and leaves it open out on the bar top to be taken from at will. ]

Been a while since ya had one of those?

[ She makes a soft humming sound, contemplative as she leans her elbow on the bar again. ]

Bein' alone's too hard.

[ She is speaking for herself. ]

[ It hasn't been that long. There's people back home — people that relied on her, trusted her. Reasons to live. Reasons to try and be something better than she would be, otherwise. But the cracks had started to show, hadn't they? Booker — fucking Booker. He'd cut her throat. Betrayed them. Betrayed their family. Forced her hand —

Andy doesn't realize she's gripping her cigarette too tightly until the stick snaps in two. Fuck. ]

Being alone is easy. You don't have to fucking try.

[ But it had hurt. It had hurt terribly. And she's trying not to dwell too much on what it says about her, that she prefers the pain of loving. Instead, she reaches for one of Goromi's cigarettes, pressing it between her lips to keep her hands and her mouth occupied. ]

What's th'point, if ya ain't tryin'?

[ One absolute truth about Majima Goro is that he is dogged. The world wrote him off from birth and he has refused ever since to lie down quietly and disappear. He will keep his promises, he was stand by his people, and one day he's going to die horribly and it will all have been worth it for that moment. ]

Maybe you're tougher than me, Andy. If I ain't got somebody t'care about... [ A small shrug. ] Just feel empty.

[ That was why Makoto Makimura had awoken him after a long, haunted sleep. The first beautiful thing he'd seen since they cut out his eye. Real emotion again after being tortured and head fucked and groomed for years. ]

[ The corner of her mouth quirks up around her cigarette in a humorless smile. ]

Sometimes there is no point. [ A pause, as she lights up and takes a drag. ] I'm not tougher than anyone. I kept going because I had no choice.

[ There were plenty of times she tried to end it. Some efforts were more elaborate, others more impulsive. None of them ever stuck. So she lived with the emptiness because she had to. ]

But there's a fucking point now. So. Here we are.

[ She giggles behind her hand. ]

You're breakin' my heart.

[ She leans forward then, hand on Andy's shoulder with an entreating look. ]

Come on now, it ain't so bad.

[ Something softens the natural severity of her face a little. That humorless smile becomes something a bit more rueful instead. ]

Break your heart? I would fucking never.

[ Maybe she's just not very good at celebrating. Too old, too tired, too many fucking thoughts in her sad fucking head. It all just feels heavy. But she's not immune to the hand on her shoulder, or that entreating look. Goromi leans towards her, and she leans in to meet halfway, making that distance between them a little smaller. With a twinge of wryness: ]

Pour me another drink? Give me another chance?

Ooh, you had that one practiced, huh.

[ She is teasing, if a little meanly. She won't linger on it, but she absolutely will top up those drinks. She raises a smiling little cheer, ]

Kanpai.

[ Which leads to one important question that has been lingering on her mind: ]

Yer Japanese is real good, yanno. How'd ya pick that up?

[ Andy lifts her glass in return, pausing halfway in bringing it to her lips at Goromi's question. She's not sure why it catches her a little off guard — the question is a reasonable one. It's fairly clear to most people that Andy isn't Japanese herself, but she's been speaking the language comfortably — almost habitually — since she arrived in hell. Nobody's thought to question her though. Not until now.

If she's honest, she'd rather not answer. Or at least not do so while sober. But, after a tangible pause, she finally responds, her voice a bit unreadable: ]

There was a Japanese woman that I loved. We were together a long time. [ Another half-beat. Then softly: ] Her name was Noriko.

[ She can take that pause for what it means and she waits through it peaceably, sipping her drink. ]

That's sweet.

[ Regardless of how the relationship turned out, learning a language for someone is a very precious gesture. ]

Japanese girls though, huh. Been known to fall in love with a few of those myself.

[ She's happy to keep it light, to not pry too deeply. ]

[ Sweet? Maybe. For a while. Then tragic. But that's how these things always seem to go. ]

Yeah? [ She finally drinks, tipping her glass back. ] Guess that doesn't surprise me.

[ It's a courtesy, not asking what happened to any of those Japanese girls. Especially with Majima's line of work. Same courtesy that Goromi's offering Andy now, so it's only polite. Instead: ]

You remind me of her sometimes. [ Wryly: ] Same sharp tongue.

Guess that might be a compliment.

[ Sharpness is a non-trivial aspect of who and what Majima is, with equal parts softness and loyalty . ]

Since ya seem t'like that kinda thing.

[ Andy seems a little amused by that, turning to face Goromi more fully as she rests her face in her hand, arm propped up on the bar counter, cigarette hanging loosely at the slightly upturned corner of her lips. ]

It's a compliment.

[ Smoke wisps lazily from her mouth. ]

She had a way of making you say "please" and like it. [ Dryly then: ] I'm sure you two would've had lots to talk about.

[ She laughs, lips pursed to contain her amusement. Goromi's way of doing things is so clearly different from Majima's. She revels in her freedom, luxuriates in assertiveness and control. Of course she does: she's his power fantasy. ]

C'mon now, I haven't been that bad. Didn't even bring a real muzzle with me when I visited.

[ She says that as airily as if they were talking about the weather, her smile polite and harmless. ]

[ Andy glances away to take another drag off her cigarette, contemplating her glass for a moment before giving Goromi a wry, sidelong look. ]

Wouldn't call it bad. [ She means that too. ] You probably could've gotten away with the muzzle, if you wanted.

[ Considering the company. ]

Really just sounds like yer sweet on me, Andy.

[ Which is very funny considering how many 'fuck yous' Majima had gotten. There's no winking when you only have one eye, but the wrinkle of her nose gives the impression anyway. ]

S'all right, I won't tell on ya.

[ Andy offers a quiet hum of acknowledgement, shrugging her shoulders a little in return and answering mildly: ]

Thought I sounded that way from the start. [ A bit wryly: ] Maybe I was too shy about it.

[ Or maybe it was all the fuck you’s. ]

That's it... th'shiest person I know.

[ Laughing behind her glass as she takes a drink out of it. ]

Guess I better fess up about that Japanese girl, huh. It's kind've a whole fuckin' story though.

[ And it's one that Majima won't tell. ]

[ Andy's wryness is unrelenting when she answers: ]

Should I be hurt that you're bringing up an ex when it sounds like I'm sweet on you?

[ But she must not mean anything by it. If she were hurt — truly hurt — it wouldn't look like this. Andy's hurt is raw and volatile. This? This is just a little play. ]

She must have been something, your Japanese girl.

Nah, it ain't like that.

[ A lazy, curling smile. Thinking about Makoto mostly just breaks Majima's heart. For Goromi there is significantly more fondness. Love for that girl is the only thing that he'd felt in years. ]

Was supposed t'assassinate her. That's how I met Nishitani. Was supposed t'kill her, an' he was supposed t'catch her for some Tojo-kai bigwig.

[ She gestures with her cigarette languidly. ]

When I got sent out, they told me 'Makoto Makimura' was some pimp. Scum of th'earth, nobody's gonna miss th'guy. I get there an' she's a little blind lady. So I beat th'tar outta Nishitani's boys an' run off with her.

[ She never really knows how she should feel, hearing these things. Her and Nishitani — they don't ask each other many questions. They don't talk about the past. Sometimes it just seems beside the point. Her feelings are what they are now. But then other times, she wonders if it's just because ignorance is easier for her. Knowledge makes things complicated. And maybe she's still a little afraid of complicated.

But it doesn't seem to trouble Goromi. She tells the story with the same ease she seems to do everything else — and Andy, as ever, is her audience. ]

Sounds romantic. [ It's wry, like usual, but a bit quiet too. ] Don't suppose the two of you lived happily ever after.

Doubt it, wouldn't know though. Last I heard some Tojo-kai black ops clan had her on the other side of town but...

[ A shrug. Inhaling on her cigarette. ]

Got possessed by a snake an' ended up on th'yokai side of th'world.

[ She laughs to herself, a lazy bitter note. Laughing at her own sad feelings: ]

It keeps th'daytime look up at night, not knowin'.

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[OPEN] only god can see what i've become.

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