jigokulogs | OPEN ➸ May Catchall

Entry tags:

OPEN ➸ May Catchall

Who ⬤ Matoba and you!
What ⬤ Curses. So very many curses- eye attack, haniwa, and... the arcade?
When ⬤ Throughout May
Where ⬤ Around the city, but mostly Sutoku territory
Content Warnings ⬤ Possible light violence from the attack prompt?

1 ➸ Fight Fire With Fire (Substory 4/May Eyeakashi Attack)

[ooc; please read this info/permissions post before replying to this prompt (and feel free to ping me with questions!)]

[A]

[Whatever you happen to be doing when the low, rumbling groan begins to sound from the sky overhead of you, the crowds around you uneasily stop and glance around. Its source is unclear, and others on the street seem equally puzzled-- all but one, a man, who withdraws the paper parasol tucked into his obi and opens it with a smile. Matoba bends over, and deposits something on the ground from a bundle he is carrying- if your eye is sharp, you'll see that they're those haniwa that have been popping up around the city, the ones the Enma specifically said not to mess with. His parasol is left to shade them, like a little house.]

[Are you going to ask what he's up to?]

--

[B]

[If not, he begins to walk away from his little dioarama- directly towards you, it so happens.]

[A mass of black sludge suddenly rockets out of the sky and smashes into the sidewalk moments later, leaving a small crater where the man had been; instead of him, the haniwa are devoured in an instant, absorbing a seismic flash of cursed energy that anyone with spiritual senses is sure to feel. The parasol is left crunching into its formless, toothy mouth before it realizes it has been tricked, and stares into the crowd- directly at Matoba.]

[And you.] OooouuGGGHHhhhhh.... EYE..

2 ➸ Cursoid (Substory 4)

[The trouble with cursed objects was that they seemed innocuous to those that needed to avoid them the most. As more and more of the little haniwa figurines began to appear throughout the city, Matoba had reluctantly taken it upon himself to do what he could to seal and remove them from public spaces, either delivering them to Department of Enma stations or whisking them away to less populated spaces. Those in Enma may find themselves tasked with a sudden delivery, wrapped in strange paper spells as Matoba gives you a skeptical once-over.] ...Are you sure you can handle this?

--

[Those outside the Enma- those who can't leave well enough alone on the streets- get even less benefit of the doubt.]

I'd appreciate if you could avoid touching that. [His tone is more exhausted than sharp, at this point; you might get the sense that he's tired of repeating himself, but with people kidnapping them to dress them in cutesy little costumes and all manner of other absurdities, he's really over it. Maybe he should just let you all get cursed.]

3 ➸ SHMUP is just fun to say (arcade)

[Some time ago, Matoba made the Daitengu a promise. For a while there, it seemed as if that promise would be a fruitless endeavor... After all, why compete against a dead body? Fortunately, news of the Daitengu's demise was highly exaggerated, and so Matoba can be found in the arcades from time to time, his single uncovered eye narrowed in focus.]

[...He is, as Daitengu said, 'in the zone'.]

[Bright lights and colors flash across the screen as explosions and bullets fly across the screen, Matoba's movements precise and automatic. It was pretty different from the old 90's games he'd played growing up in the rural arcades back home- flashier, extra mechanics- but the basic idea was the same, right?]

[Alas, after a tough late-stage boss battle, his ship explodes. Matoba lets out a soft 'tch', finally detaching from the machine to reach into his coinpurse for more yen... When he finally notices you hovering nearby with a slow blink. Forgive his strained eye, it needs to refocus.]

...My apologies, were you waiting for this machine?

----
[Hit me at

kitsoru or via PM for plotting or questions!]

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[He watches the haori flop to the ground and feels the inevitability of it all settle in. He knows-- he knows-- that he is going to pick that haori up and put it on the drying rack at some point in the night. The best he can do is grit his teeth and try to put it off as long as possible. Why is this the hill he's going to die on? Impossible to say, and yet it's impossible to ignore the truth of it regardless.

In any case, he folds one knee up towards his chest and rests his crossed arms on top as he watch Matoba successfully (?) place an order (evangelion omedetou.gif).] Mm. Did the Alliance get as many as we did? Somewhere around 15? [No more free strategy deets, Seij.] I'm curious... I imagine the clan leaders taking turns picking from the new arrivals like students picking sports teams.

[It's inevitable. They both know it. Matoba continues to smile, blithely, confident and comfortable in this knowledge, as he has always lived steeped in it.]

Yes, I would say around that number. [Psht yeah okay, we'll see,] I have always wondered that as well.... I seem to recall being told that our files are sent out to them from the Kaigou-no-bou in the first place, but not the selection process. Do you suppose they would tell us, if we asked?

[Were they picked before, or after their arrival? That would certainly tell a bit much in terms of the mystery of how they arrived, and perhaps the leaders would rather they didn't. Matoba discards this topic quickly and easily as if they were making smalltalk with the business at an exorcist's meeting.]

Natori-san, how many cats do you know?

[An unfortunately normal turn of conversation for Matoba Seiji.]

Edited 2022-05-31 00:07 (UTC)

I don't see why it would be a state secret, but they still wouldn't give us an answer. [It's just a guess, and more because he can't imagine shooting the breeze with Tenkohime about their arrival in the world when all of his interactions with her have gone the way they have. 9 out of 10 odds he wouldn't get an answer, and if he did, it would be another way for Tenkohime to flirt with him.] ...Maybe the Enma might, if you filed the right form to ask.

[Once again, Natori does not roll his eyes; he feels that strange almost-fondness surface up again, and doesn't smile either.] Actual cats? None. But there are a couple cat ayakashi among the Lost Souls.

[Matoba waves a hand, to Natori's reply of filling the Enma's forms.] Don't bother. I've tried it some time ago and the wait is beyond any of our lifetimes.

...Although, perhaps it will just keep our place in line for when we return here past our actual deaths. What do you think?

[It's also way less interesting than cats. He raises a hand to his chin thoughtfully, resting his weight on the other.] I have met one or two. Nia-chan is in your clan, is she not? Tamamo draws so many of them, it seems. Beasts are drawn to beasts, I suppose.

...I suppose I haven't met the others, then. Oh well. I'll just have to keep an eye out. [He smiles cheerfully. Just what could he be planning... dohoho you'll just have to hear about it after the fact, Natori.] The bakeneko seem easily bought, so I'm sure I won't have much trouble.

I think at that point we'll be less interested in getting the answer. [Well, Natori will, at least. Matoba might stick with it out of spite.

Speaking of, of course Matoba is calling a cat girl "chan".] There's Nehan as well, but you're probably less interested in him. He was very popular in the bathhouses during the parade. [And was part of their small fighting force in the underground afterwards, though Natori really means to stick to his guns and not give Matoba any new info on their strategy down in the tunnels. None of it-- the prize included-- is worth the hassle.] And I've seen another that called himself an "erune." If you'd like to win him over, I don't recommend the penis pops.

[Matoba can absolutely go make a fool of himself about cats if he wants to. It's fine. (Until Natori gets embarrassed by association and shouts him down.)]

Nehan, hm...? [Matoba's eye slides thoughtfully to the side. He doesn't know that one; perhaps he should look into it (and be disappointed, rip), nor does he know of any "erune". (He does, but he got a name, not a race, from Six.)]

[Natori receives a withering look at the words "penis pops" coming out of Natori's mouth, and then leans forward again to pick up his phone and jab around at something.]

I'm sure you were paying plenty of attention to all of that business. [No, he doesn't want to know about your gross youkai brothel adventures, spare him.] But speaking of that night, being that our Boss has returned...

The Enma has been quite mum. [His eye is still on his phone, scrolling.]

Well, it is our business. [And as annoying as it is, it's pretty funny seeing Matoba making faces over it. After all, Natori had to say 'penis pop' about a hundred times with a straight face that day.

Not that that was anywhere near the most important thing that happened that day. Natori's silent for a moment, watching a bead of water collecting at the end of Matoba's ponytail as he thinks about the last time the two of them were sitting on the floor of one of their apartments together. Matoba had been shot. The Daitengu, or someone in their mask, had been shot. Toraguma and Tenkohime had rallied their troops to squabble over the stupid underground the moment the Enma had stopped investigating it. And then... Nothing.]

Mm. Well. They were certainly active enough when it came to shaking down kappa. [A legitimate attempt to investigate a crime that simply no longer mattered once it turned out that the victim was still alive? Or was there something else there?] Has the Daitengu said anything else beyond the implication at the funeral?

No. Nothing. I suspect they considered that enough to put us all to work.

[It was, sort of. Sutokus were curious creatures, and loved to solve a mystery on their own, to seek out the knowledge whether for the sake of their own satisfaction and use or driven by a desire for truth. It probably meant that they were easily led in a direction, but surely their own leader knew that if it was misdirection, it would be discovered.]

The kappa that were left alive don't know anything, it was all a distraction. As one might have expected. And the Enma were the first into the tunnels, the first to ensure that there were none left to speak.

...However, once the Enma released the underground, your clan and the Shuten were both ordered near-immediately to take that territory. Don't you wonder why that is?

If you trust Tenkohime, it's because Toraguma wanted it and she wanted to steal it out from under his nose. ['If' you trust Tenkohime, which is not a risk for either of them. But even so... Natori glances briefly over to the wards that Matoba had set up the last time he was here. Still present, for however much they'd do to protect their conversation when on ayakashi territory, within the realm overseen by King Enma. He doubts it'd make much of a difference, but he lowers his voice anyway.]

So what are you thinking? If they were after something specific, why release the underground at all? Unless they already have what they needed?

No. They didn’t get to it.

[They mustn’t have, if the intel he’d heard was true. Even the Sutokus who investigated couldn’t. It was hard to know if anyone short of the kappa captains (who were dead) or the Daitengu’s inner circle even could.]

I think they couldn’t, and so they decided to let one of the others do it for them in the midst of the squabbling and takeover... Or simply decided that they didn’t care anymore, if they couldn’t get in.

There’s no real use to that place beside whatever the Alliance is hiding, and the kappa’s livelihoods.

[Which was a tenuous but important enough practical concern that the Alliance was going to do what it took to get it back regardless of who came out on top of the rest. If they had to sacrifice some things to get there...]

Awfully personal, don’t you think? Their little squabble. [Which seems to delight him.]

[Matoba doesn't sound like he's just theorizing; it sounds like he might actually know something. Maybe not as strong as what they're after, but something about it. After a moment of consideration, he decides to ask anyway, even if he has a pretty good idea of how Matoba will respond.]

Do you know what it is?

[Which is a different question from "will you tell me," but that's why he figures he has any shot of getting an answer at all.]

Don't let anyone else hear you say that. It's a touchy subject.

[Matoba smiles, swinging his gaze back over to meet Natori's eyes, and lets his attention drop away from his phone; he tilts his head and rests his cheek in his hand, propped on his knee. The tilt of his head creates another glistening drip from the ponytail draped over his shoulder.]

Do you think that's something I'm going to just hand you, Natori?

[It's a good thing that it's just a casual aside, as curious as Matoba is to hear more gossip about Tenkohime's torrid lovelife; his phone rings soon after with the arrival of the food, and he hands it off to Natori to answer and fetch it for them.]

[He couldn't very well be seen, Matoba reasons, waltzing around picking up delivery in a Tamamo building.]

[By the time Natori returns, Matoba's pieces of clothing (and their contents- a tantou, a calligraphy brush, a sheaf of ofuda rain-damp and wrinkled) have sprawled out further around his apartment and he has moved on to rifling through his chest of drawers, carelessly rumpling things until he finds a pair of drawstring pants and a T-shirt. 'I'm borrowing these' he declares without space for debate, and sequesters himself in the bathroom to change momentarily.]

[When he returns he tosses his kimono carelessly over the drying rack and picks his way into the boxed dinners; one for each of them, packed to the brim with colorful vegetables and fish. Matoba plops himself back onto the floor cross-legged and digs in, proceeding to ramble on between bites about this and that sweets shop he's found around the city, about the the little tea shop where he'd directed Natori for the matcha; about the kimono shop in Tamamo's fashion quarter that was able to make him new sets.]

[The mood that settles in is comfortable and, even if he doesn't show it, familiar. It's been a long time since either of them had the time or circumstances to sit like this.]

[With his box empty, Matoba is already biting into one of his daifuku while Natori is finishing his food, just gazing off around his apartment in the comfortable silence.]

I suppose this rain is going to continue all night, [He finally sighs, lips pursed around the dumpling before popping the rest into his mouth. Not that his clothes had gotten much drier, in the last hour or so.]

[Figures.

After a brief protest from Natori about being the one to get the food (ended as soon as Matoba points out that after all, only one of them is actually allowed to be in this building), he comes back to the hurricane that is Matoba Seiji scattering his clothes around the apartment and pawing through his stuff. When Matoba emerges from the bathroom to toss his kimono on the drying rack, he'll find that his haori and the spare sock also mysteriously hung themselves up while his back was turned. Perhaps they momentarily turned into ayakashi, moved themselves, and then were exorcised? Natori's certainly not saying anything about it, too busy picking through his boxed dinner.

(The shirt sits a little snugger on Matoba than it would on Natori. It's in the shoulders, Natori muses as he picks at his food and lets Matoba prattle on about his sweets shops. Must be those kyudo muscles. He watches the fit of the fabric around his biceps as Matoba eats. And the damp spot from where his ponytail touches the shirt.)]

Mm. [He looks through the balcony door again, judging the downpour.] And it's too humid for your clothes to really dry. [At least they had a chance hung up like that. It'd still be soaking wet if it'd stayed on Natori's floor.] ...I don't have a spare futon.

[He doesn't have a futon at all; the bed and floor are clearly Western-style.]

[Matoba catches Natori's eye as he says that, even though Natori is surely, stubbornly, refusing to look up at him. He chews for a long moment, managing to keep his face straight, and then looks down to his other daifuku.]

Oh, really?

[He picks up the other and holds it in his mouth as he rolls up to gather the bento boxes and dump them on Natori's kitchen counter; that's cleaned-up enough, right? He'll let him sort the trash and recycling out in the morning.]

[Instead, he strides over to Natori's fluffy bed, and plops himself down to sit on the edge of it, biting into the rest of the daifuku.]

[Excuse you, Matoba, he's clearly busy looking at the pouring rain outside-- or at least he is until he sees Matoba stand in the corner of his eye.]

Seriously?

[Of course seriously. He rolls his eyes and follows after-- if he doesn't assert himself on the bed now, Matoba's likely to take the entire thing over. He sits cross-legged in the center of the bed, stubbornly refusing to budge off his own furniture.]

You're eating on my bed too?

It's one daifuku, [Matoba protests dismissively, and pops the rest of the thing in one bite as if to prove a point, licking his fingers of any residue. That should do it, right?] Are you worried about vermin? In Hell?

[Lucky that he had that handy ward to take care of that, hm? Matoba will accept additional thanks any time. Natori plops into his own bed in order to claim it from Matoba's hostile takeover, which puts them nearly back to back, and Matoba scoots himself back a little more in the bed before defiantly flopping down on the pillow.]

Well, I have had quite the long night of ferrying back and forth, [He punctuates with a stretch, kicking up some blankets,] so I believe I will retire.

If you require additional compensation for your hospitality, save it for the morning, please.

Right, your busy night of running across Hell for sweets, [Natori grumbles, flopping backwards to guard his own space on his own bed. He refuses to curl up on his side to make space lest the octopus next to him take it over, pinning down his half of the blankets with his elbows as he powers off the stupid cell phone. Old habits die hard, even if it's not quite the same risk as leaving the landline plugged in back home.] If you're annoying, I'm kicking you onto the floor.

[He reaches over the side of the bed to brush his fingers against a stack of paper dolls (there are some scattered all over the apartment, not (just) because he doesn't bother picking up after himself but to keep them in reach when sleeping; again, old habits) as he deposits the phone on the floor next to them. The top doll obediently hovers over to the light and switches it off.

Lying there in the dark on his back, he's hyper-aware of Matoba's presence in the bed next to him. After a few minutes of listening to the rain pound against the window, muffling but not fully covering the sounds of the city night, he murmurs]

Are you going to get the new umbrella tomorrow?

[Read: he's still thinking about whether Matoba needs that design of the umbrella.]

Hahaha, yes, [Matoba agrees, rather than let Natori in on all the other meetings and greetings he'd had tonight. He never did want to know Matoba's business until it was convenient for him, did he?]

[Natori squirms and tugs on blankets and Matoba frowns, but stubbornly clings onto one corner of the comforter as he rolls onto his right side so it didn't get yanked off of him completely.] Oh? We'll see.

[That sounds like fun, he thinks. After a moment of thought, as Natori is dealing with his phone, Matoba also reaches to the side of the bed where everything that had been in his kimono was scattered, then scoots back in to fluff the pillow and make himself comfortable as the paper doll hovers to the lightswitch and shuts it off.]

[Even as they're lying there, blinking his good eye in the darkness to let it adjust, he knows Natori isn't going to be quiet for long. He never is. He remains up in the darkness letting every anxiety whirl about in his head until he can quell it, and part of that is always talking himself through it as he goes to sleep. It's an annoying habit of his, Matoba notes; he always fell asleep right away, except when it was with Natori.]

However long it takes the craftsman to make it, [He drawls sleepily, letting his eye fall shut again.] Are you offering to take care of it for me, Natori?

[There's something about lying down to go to sleep that gives him the illusion of security, that makes it just a bit easier to let down his guard and be honest. Apparently that's not a universal trait-- but then again, he should know better. All exorcists know that there isn't any real safety to be found in the dark, that not seeing something isn't a protection against the dangers lurking in the shadows.

One of these days, he'll learn to stop expecting Matoba to be different from how he's always been. He shuts his eyes for a moment, then rolls onto his side so his back faces Matoba's, splitting the bed between them down the middle.] Do your own chores, Matoba.

[It was foolish of him to expect... well, whatever. He shifts once more with an air of finality, securing his side of the blanket around himself and lies there in the definitive silence between them until he falls asleep.

When he dreams of crowds of familiar figures with hollow, sightless eyes, he assumes it's because of Matoba lying next to him-- his subconscious grabbing on the imagery that can't quite leave his head when Matoba's presence is stirring up the questions. But there's a slight pressure, a miasma of energy that seeps in around the corners, that he's learned a long time ago to associate with an outside energy.

He snaps awake in the middle of the night, bolting up as he realizes there's something else there across from the foot of the bed. He slaps a handful of dolls as he instinctively launches himself out of bed and onto the floor for more maneuverability. One doll gets the light-- Natori's sure that Matoba is already up by now anyway-- while the rest dive towards the third presence in the room with them.]

[Matoba smiles to himself against the pillow. Just the chilly response he expected- and yet it does the trick. Natori goes to sleep after that with little trouble, just the push he needed to stop thinking about things that did not matter.]

[Sleeping with another body present was not something Matoba did, almost at all. There had been very few occasions even before he inherited where they were in this situation, and virtually none afterward. But his dreams were normally turbulent anyway, and he was mostly used to it.]

[To the point that he could tell that this time, it was not simply dreaming.]

[There must have been a specific 'point' at which they both became aware of the presence at once because Matoba jolts awake and feels Natori bolt at the same moment; without thought, his hand goes to the tantou he had left under the pillow before they settled in, and draws it towards the singular point his senses tell him is the enemy. Natori's dolls are already swarming it, circling in order to bind.]

[It was.....]

A doll?

[He says it deeply, voice ragged with sleep, the knifepoint mere millimeters away from making contact with the clay figure. His breath is coming out rapid and sharp, adrenaline spiked to fight or flight.]

[With the light on, his eye has to squint slightly to adjust, but just looking at this thing was making him feel nauseated in a strange way he hated, and after a moment of consideration, still holding the knifepoint towards it, he inches back slightly on the mattress.]

--Check the ward. [Instinctively, remembering his feeling from earlier that night. It's an order barked raggedly at Natori without looking away from the figurine.]

[Natori doesn't balk or hesitate. As soon as Matoba has the strange doll (definitely the source of the feeling) under knifepoint, Natori crosses to the door of the apartment without turning his back on either of them. He glances away only when he's right in front of the ward, the paper dolls circling the haniwa ready to react at the first sign that they need to.]

It's down. [He only needs a moment to look it over, prodding the edges of the decaying ward and judging the holes in the barrier it projected.] ...It's like it eroded overnight. Did this thing... [hasten it? Or is it just something that took advantage of another, larger problem?]

[There is a long, heavy pause in the space of Natori’s confirmation. Eye narrowing at the thing, he has to avert it slightly after a moment.]

[This was a funerary figurine; he had seen them used to seal ayakashi before. Reaching out cautiously, he brushes a very careful finger over it to sense its qualities; he felt no angry spirit resonating from inside. Then, where was this aura coming from...?]

[(Nausea, disorientation- even with his personal ward, even with his guard up- staring into that thing’s hollow eyes felt so much like—)]

I ...felt some degradation upon entering, last night. [He reaches a hand out towards the pile of things from his kimono and palms an ofuda. Time to prepare another.] I figured it was the natural influence of the ayakashi in this quarter, but...

[Still clasping the knife, he claps his hands over the ofuda and casts another, containing the malicious energy that was pouring out like a gaseous cloud from the haniwa’s being. The paper seals over the haniwa’s eyes, and the aura suddenly lessens to only a passing (malignant) presence in the room.]

[It feels like then he can finally let go of a breath he hadn’t been able to take.]

...Just who did you anger, Natori?

[He frowns at the broken ward on the door, turning more of his attention to it once he feels Matoba's new seal settle like a smothering blanket over the figure-- contained enough to breathe again in the room, to feel like he can spend his awareness on this work without risking a blow from the haniwa.] It had been wearing out over the past few weeks, but at a steady rate. This was more like... a puncture.

[He's seen what happens to wards when a determined spellcaster lobs curse after curse at them. It's also why he seriously considers Matoba's suggestion that this haniwa was meant for him specifically. It wouldn't be the first time; the question was why someone would bother with that here. There was the business in the sewers, maybe, but...]

...This can't be from the Shuten. If they had access to this sort of power, we would have seen it before now. [There's no sense in sending one to him unless they were sent to all the Tamamo jujutsushi, but if they had those sort of reserves, why not post them in the underground in the first place? Still, he returns to his side of the bed to dig up his phone and start to power it on, in case there's any communication from someone else. He still finds himself angling his body to keep the haniwa in front of him rather than expose his back to it.] This would be some serious firepower for a petty host rivalry. [Not that it's impossible; of course some ayakashi could escalate to these measures over something stupid like that. He hates that he seriously has to consider this.] What does it feel like?

This isn’t like Shuten, [Matoba agrees, although he’s certainly curious as to why they would be after Natori. He could guess.] Oni are not really known to be spellcasters, hm?

...And besides. If those oafs wanted to break you in two, they would simply do it in broad daylight.

[Matoba smiles. At least the straightforward types were very easy to deal with and predict. No, this seems like it would come from a more insidious source. His brow lifts at Natori’s joke- he hopes it’s a joke- about the host club.]

Is Nurikabe-san still so jealous about your sudden rise to popularity? [He seems delighted that it’s so.] Perhaps it should have considered getting into the acting business first.

[He turns again towards the haniwa, choosing to not-quite look at it, this time.]

I don’t think this is a seal. I don’t sense a presence within it. [Then, where was the energy coming from? Now that it’s sealed, he can pick it up, although he’s still handling it with the caution and mistrust of something that might attack at any time. As he turns it over in his hands, his frown deepens.]

Have you ever seen a legitimate haniwa in person, Natori-san?

Edited 2022-06-29 12:44 (UTC)

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OPEN ➸ May Catchall

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