jigokulogs | semi-closed 🔪 the extent of my affections are destroying me

[ Nishitani isn't exactly sure when he moved in-- neither of he or Andy has made it official, but he has a toothbrush in the bathroom and his suits in the closet. He goes out to get groceries every couple of days, brings them back liquor and cigarettes, cleans up when he's bored and cooks whenever the time for a meal strikes. He never saw himself as domestic, but he's taken to the life easily. Between beating up some foxes every now and then, cleaning up a gambling hall, him and Andy just slot together. They fuck, they bite, they fight-- ]

[ But night has come, and they're laying on her futon together, the strange bastard cat that doesn't leave them alone laying at their feet, fast asleep and purring like a broken chainsaw. ]

[ He lights a cigarette, the ember burning bright orange in the night, before he passes it to Andy and moves to light his own as well. ]

Edited 2022-05-18 05:42 (UTC)

[ TW: ALTERED STATES, APHRO ]

[ Nishitani has never said "no" to sampling products . If what his boys are selling isn't good enough for him, then they're not selling it, point blank. This means that he has a wide base of knowledge to put his current situation up against, but all of them manage to fall short. He's hot, boiling, burning, wanting to pull his skin off just to get to the itch inside. In his veins, adrenaline, pushing him to action-- ]

[ Fight, or fuck. For Nishitani, one rarely comes without the other. He texts the first person his thumb lands on through this stupid phone, tells them to get over here, to be ready to take whatever might come. Shit, he wants to dig his teeth into someone's throat, just to feel their pulse under his tongue. ]

Edited 2022-05-18 05:36 (UTC)

[the casino isn't a place that Emily would go, not if she had a choice. but there's someone else who would go, particularly to meet a friend. so, in the middle of the night, they take their turn with the body, keeping Emily in deep, uninterrupted slumber, and head out.

cho-han isn't their style of gambling - they prefer more direct bluffs, but watching offers a spectacle that can't be matched, and Hibiki can privately conduct their own business off to the side. the man in dark clothes they talk to seems too serious to be there, but bows when they're done talking, and they're assured of the results. what connections they build don't need to be entirely known to be viable, after all. respect is better than gold in this city.

so it is that a person who looks very, very akin to Emily Dyer is there in the casino, drinking sake and watching the betting with a keen interest. her hair's styled more loosely, her clothes a little more modern, and her attitude seems far more relaxed - even her wings are not so closely kept against her back, but allowed to exist. really, one would be forgiven for thinking the doctor was allowing herself to have one night off.

they see Nishitani before he sees them, and when he does happen to glance, they raise their cup just enough to be an acknowledgement. what Emily doesn't know won't hurt her, after all.]

[ It snuck up on her, this odd semblance of routine. This wasn't what she was looking for when she showed up at that hostess bar, itching for a fight — but she hasn't fought it either, and for someone like Andy, cagey bitch that she is, sometimes permission is all the louder for being unspoken. She'll just pretend that allowing this to happen isn't the same as her making some kind of choice. It's easier not to dwell or overthink. If she does, she might pick the kind of self-sabotaging fight where she loses something she doesn't want to lose.

Instead, she lives as much in the moment as she can. And it isn't so terrible, even if this is supposed to be hell. She's unexpectedly at ease on nights like this one, lulled by the rumbling sounds of the storm outside and the small furry creature asleep at the edge of the futon. Leaning over, she accepts the cigarette from Nishitani with murmured thanks, pressing it between her lips and taking a long, slow drag before finally speaking, her voice low and wry: ]

You know, I thought you might be fucking bored by now.

[ Nishitani shifts once he's lit both of them up, moving their ashtray to an easy position for both of them to get to while tossing the lighter he'd used somewhere on the floor. ]

[ While Andy doesn't ask a question, she does, just indirect. He's used to indirect speaking-- he's yakuza, after all. Nishitani's brash and forward nature is a rarity, especially at the levels he'd gotten to. So he picks up what she's asking and thinks for a second, pulling back at the cigarette and running his fingers across her brow, into her hair. ]

With a pussy like yours? [ While not the entire truth, Nishitani isn't lying, either. The sex is good. Even after the initial tension snapped, they still fuck like animals and it speaks to something inside Nishitani, watching Andy come undone and letting himself be undone by her. Even like this, simple, contented, in a small fucking apartment that was the size of his bathroom back at the the Nishitani estate-- Nishitani is happy. Stripping away all the shit he'd accumulated... it's been a purge, but one he's enjoyed. ] The sex is good and you still fight me like a bitch half the time we're around. I don't have time to get bored with you.

Edited 2022-05-18 07:13 (UTC)

[ Nishitani's running upkeep, checking in with managers and muscling card counters out onto the streets. The job is menial work, but fits his new station. He sets an example, cut in his black suit, fuchsia tie, and pin on his lapel. It's a break in his work that he orders a scotch, no ice, and when he looks down the bar-- a familiar face. ]

[ He waits for his drink, then saunters over to the sweet, soft Em-chan. Skipping the nearest stool, he stands in closer to her instead, looming once more. He's all sharp grins, sharp teeth, and glinting eyes. ] Now, what's a Sutoku grunt doing running around a Shuten casino like this?

[they know her voice, her mannerisms intimately. they live and breathe them every day, and so when they sip the sake, they imitate the voice they're after perfectly.]

That would be a fine question, if I were a grunt. But I don't think it wise to flash my own status so far from home.

[eyes down for just a second, that modesty Emily always wears like a chapel veil.]

I'm merely here to enjoy myself, that's all. Enough of a spectacle, good liquor, and pleasant company - though I've been waiting for the last.

[it's all a smokescreen, them making sure they move in just the right way. humans can be so controlled.]

And you?

[ She isn't always so forthcoming — more often than not, she's a hard read, with that habitual wryness and a strong resting bitch face. Even now, her amusement at his description of her is subtle. A little quirk at the corner of her mouth, something in the shape of her eyes. In response, she makes a humming noise of acknowledgement, smoke curling lazily from her parted lips as she watches him, apparently content not to interrogate the matter any further than that.

Instead, after a moment or two, she settles in a little more, laying on her side with her head propped up in one hand, draped in all that long black hair. Idly, she reaches out with her other hand, skimming the tip of her index finger along the inked curve of a peony petal on his arm. Her cigarette bobs slightly when she finally speaks again: ]

Must've taken a while. [ All those tattoos. Wryly then: ] Must've hurt.

Edited 2022-05-18 07:31 (UTC)

Working, baby. But for you I could clock out early. [ Nishitani looks over her, the lack of pin but that subtle, restrained nature that has him gnashing at the bite just to see a pinch of what lays under. He lights a cigarette, but makes sure to offer her one first. He knows she'll refuse, but it's even here, like this, he has some manners for those he respects. ]

[they politely decline, remembering Emily's actions from last time. not that they would, but it's better to keep up habits.]

Wouldn't you get in trouble? I'd hardly wish for you to get reprimanded or worse.

[ Nishitani flexes under her trailing fingers, watching as she moves from flower to flower, the curves of waves, the feathers of roosters from his back. ] Started getting them when I first got involved with the Omi Alliance. [ When he first got involved with the life, in other words. He knew the second he agreed to become a yakuza, he didn't want to be anywhere else in the world-- and that meant ink, and a lot of it. ] So 30 years, on and off. You get used to it after that long. Still, having that old man hand tattoo near my dick trumped being shot to death for "most painful thing to happen to me".

Edited 2022-05-18 07:47 (UTC)

[ Thirty years is a long time in a mortal life. She knows that, even if her own sense of time is blurred. It's not a small thing, giving decades of your life to something. To a cause, or a person. There's something to admire in that. Something almost poetic. Maybe even romantic.

There's no bite to her wryness, even though her words are a little mocking when she responds: ]

You must have loved that.

[ Absently, her finger trails lower, winding down over ribs, along one hip, wandering in to find those scattered scars. Here, she lingers, even if she doesn't ask anything out loud just yet. ]

If I got hard in front of Horitomo he would've cut my dick off. [ Nishitani laughs at that, the thought of that old man and his demands for perfect stillness while he worked. The man was a cunt, but his artwork speaks for itself. ]

[ Andy trails her fingers down, to under his ribs and the soft of his belly. The wounds there are small, but puckered and fresh. They interrupt the seamless flow of ink and Nishitani is endlessly angry for that. Scars are a pain to tattoo over, and he's had a couple patches done-- but here in hell, his artist isn't here, so the tattoo will remain unfinished and blemished. ]

Getting shot though-- there was a lot going on. Bastards who bring guns to a fight are fucking dogs. There's no fun in gun fights.

Edited 2022-05-18 08:20 (UTC)

[ He's probably right. She remembers vaguely the feeling of both awe and revulsion the first time she saw a gun. For centuries, she'd been fighting wars with something sharp in her hands, close enough to her enemy to smell their breath — the way the gods intended it. Personal. And it was brutal. There were battles where she would be covered in so much gore than it was impossible to tell her apart from the rotting, split open corpses.

But she'd learned to use guns. And she doesn't feel much now, pulling the trigger. She doesn't feel much getting shot either. Gods, she must have been shot thousands of times by now. Even blown her own brains out a few times. It all blurs together. ]

You'd be a lot less use to me with your dick cut off. [ Wryly: ] So, I guess I've got Horitomo's mercy to thank. [ A pause, as she withdraws her hand to take another drag off her cigarette, her tone shifting subtly when she finally goes on: ] Hope whatever happened was worth getting shot over. Those scars will be as permanent as the ink.

[ Nishitani brushes his hand across her shoulders, Andy's head on his bicep as she leans in, pressing against skin, ink, and knotted scar tissue. Nishitani doesn't seem phased, but smirks at the dryness in her tone, part of him wanting to roll her over and show her that even without his dick, he could bring her off as many times as she could handle-- ]

[ But their bastard cat is sleeping still, and the rain is calming, and he's not done his cigarette yet. ]

[ He hums instead, pulling back on his cigarette as well, ashing it carefully so he doesn't burn the futon or himself. ] You know Majima-kun? Or-- Goromi, you know her.

It was for them.

Edited 2022-05-18 08:49 (UTC)

[ Recognition flickers in her expression. She does know Majima. And Goromi. Both under somewhat different circumstances. "Friendship" probably isn't the word for any of it, but she's never been particularly good at labeling things right anyway. She had noticed that there was some kind of history there. It hadn't felt like her business though, and she'd never asked.

Now, some of what she's seen makes a little more sense. ]

Mm. So that's why... [ She gestures vaguely with her cigarette, as if to indicate "the whole damn thing." Whatever they want to call what she's witnessed. With a twinge of wryness: ] Suppose between the two of you, it's a miracle neither one has been shot up worse.

[ The why is easy, for Nishitani. He has a brutal heart for those who find their way into it, and Majima is one of the few who managed it. ] I love him. Don't think there's much else to it.

[ He considers what she says before shrugging. ] Cops in Japan carry pea-shooters with only a couple rounds. But get an officer with a decent aim or nothing to lose, and well... you get this. [ He gestures to his abdomen and chest with the four bullet wounds standing out bright. Only one had made it all the way through, scarring his back, and for that he's thankful. ]

[ She's a little surprised he'd admit that so readily. That word — it's one that makes her guts twist, as if just the act of her saying it out loud to someone would somehow hurt her. Love. That painful fucking thing. Being a sentimental creature has been more of a curse to her than even the immortality, some days.

And yet, somehow, she finds herself making room for it. Time and time again. Maybe even now, despite her better fucking sense. ]

Didn't take you for a romantic. [ Finally, she turns away to stub her dwindling cigarette out into the ashtray, exhaling one last mouthful of smoke off to the side. ] You're lucky you're still a breathing romantic.

Haven't I been romantic enough to you? [ A joke, almost. Nishitani brushes some Andy's hair away from the side of her face, turning to look at her-- her eyes, her nose, her lips, her cheeks-- looking at her and he feels nothing but contentment. A yawning pit of hunger is sated, quenched, with the promise that tomorrow-- tomorrow she'll try to kill him by sitting on his face for too long, that she'll punch him in the throat and try to collapse his windpipe, that he'll go down on her with with the full intention of making her come until she passes out. The sex and blood he loves come with her, intrinsically as they spark and clash where like meets like too closely. ]

[ But it's moments like these that surprise him, because they come just as naturally as anything else. Damn, a romantic through and through. ] I'll just have to try harder.

[ Snapping away the cigarette case, Nishitani lights the cigarette and turns to look out at the game of cho-han Emily had been looking over. The night has been slow, and Nishitani is quick to boredom ] Nah, the casino can miss me for a couple of hours. What kind of boss would I be if I didn't make sure I could step out at my leisure?

[they make an affirmative sound, their head tilting just a bit, unable to stop every twitch of their own. if he won't sit, they have no choice but to look up at him - the betting's stopped for this round of the game, and now the competitors are awaiting the results.]

Wise, to build that sort of failsafe in for yourself. Should I take it to mean you'd like to resolve the void of company for me tonight?

[all they need is for him to sit down. or to say something he shouldn't. they aren't the quick moving sort like others can be, they wait for opportunity.]

[ She almost laughs — almost plays it right the fuck off with some smart-ass shit because she isn't the type of woman that anyone thinks to romance, not with her mean smile and her sharp words and her bad habits. So he's joking. She's sure he is — right until he reaches out to touch her, drawing her attention towards him just in time to meet his eyes. Then there's the tension of uncertainty. A little question she can't bring herself to ask out loud. It makes her stall for a tangible moment.

Fuck.

Fuck her.

Fuck, she is so stupid — ]

...You don't have to try that fucking hard. [ Her mutter is almost a little petulant. Reaching out, she deftly plucks his cigarette away from him, briskly smothering it in the ashtray before pushing him down against the futon and climbing on top. She doesn't want to wake the cat. But she's not sure she wants to keep talking about this either. ]

[ When did he become the booty call? Izō almost just flat out ignores the message, but...he can't say he isn't interested. Blame the mochi he ate, too. He's spoiling for something by the time he gets to Nishitani's door, judging by the way he pounds on the door like he's trying to break it down. ]

Open up already, ya old fuck!

[ Nishitani throws open the door after Izo tries to break the damn thing down, reaching out to grab Izo by the neck and-- what? Strangle him? Haul him forward?-- Nishitani reaches forward because he wants Izo's pulse under his fingers, for better or worse. ] Not very nice, calling names like that. [ Hissed, where Izo lets Nishitani get close. ]

[ Nishitani lets himself be pushed back, going easily under her fingers and flexing under her body-- pushing up against her so she can feel the muscles of his body where they strain against her. While not preening, exactly, Nishitani knows he cuts a figure, even at 45, and he knows she likes his tattoos. ]

[ Bringing his fingers up her thighs, palming at her hips and the cut of fat and muscle that dip along her belly appreciatively. ] No flowers, then? [ He wants to lean up to kiss her, but also enjoys watching Andy on top. So he runs his mouth instead; ] What else do girls like? Knives? I could get you a knife.

semi-closed 🔪 the extent of my affections are destroying me

@andy / domesticity

@iichan / moon medicine

celestial phoenix.

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