[closed] a moon shaped pool

[metafictions]

Who ⬤ Kamui and friends
What ⬤ (eric andre voice) nightmare nightmare nightmare nightmare
When ⬤ throughout June
Where ⬤ out and about, sometimes at 7/11
Content Warnings ⬤ Violence, unreality, death, gore & eye horror; possible mentions of past child abuse, suicide. Also, Travis Touchdown.
Notes ⬤ they won't do much for this event because uh CURSE but check out Kamui's criminal power permissions; plotting post here if you're interested in a starter.

Comments

⚔️ andy

[metafictions]

[Patrolling with Andy again... How nostalgic.

The dread in the air today, however, falls magnitudes above the dark sewers where they'd met. Unnatural red rain falls in a steady shower, dripping grotesquely off Kamui's raincoat and umbrella as the two make their way through an abandoned street. That coppery odor of blood hangs everywhere: sour, lingering nearly on the back of the palate.

It's a good time, Kamui muses humorlessly, to be having nosebleeds anyway-- for him, everything already tastes like blood.

So far, it's been a slow stroll. Fortunately. No civilians in need of assistance from the Enma, no Shuten barricades around the residential areas broken down. He's about to call it and ask Andy if she'd like to head out when he spots a small, furry gray shape taking shelter under a mailbox.]

Andy, look over there. [The thing turns sharp eyes toward him: it's a fat striped cat. A very familiar one. Which might even mean that...] Do you see that cat?

[But before she can reply, the cat arcs its back and hisses in their direction, bounding off into the bloody rain.]

J-Jeane, wait--

🐟 mina

[metafictions]

[By a few days into the citywide curse, Kamui's simply given up on the rain. Good thing they've got a red version of the 7/11 uniform, huh?

And good thing for Minakami showing up to work, too. With most other employees too scared or too afflicted by the terrible miasma that engulfs Jigoku-cho to actually come in, it's largely been Kamui and Kim out here, braving it all to keep this convenience store open. He'd rather be out here doing something useful, personally-- but that doesn't mean it isn't a lot of work.

After what feels like the millionth box of bottled water lugged from the back into the main area, Kamui leans back against the counter with a sigh. Glancing over at today's "temp":]

Thank you, Mina-san. I really appreciate this.

[People still need food and shelter in an emergency, even if it's the temporary shelter of a convenience store. He turns his gaze out through the windows: out on the street, that blood just keeps pouring and pouring.]

🚙 kim

[metafictions]

[Much as neither of them want to come into work during the apocalypse... it's actually been a bit of a blessing in disguise, still manning the 7/11. Kamui and Kim stay busy, and they have a direct line to supplies-- whether it's for themselves or for keeping the city clinic stocked during such a crucial time. It's hard work, but he's grateful to be here. Better to stay occupied than to spend all his time at home willing away the nightmares and his now-constant aching head.]

What a time to get your car back, huh?

[It's the end of a shift, and Kamui's finally getting a good look at the Kineema. What...ever the Kineema is, "car" is perhaps a liberal definition-- like a souped-up stagecoach on wheels, he thinks, eyeing it from beneath the 7/11's eaves as he shakes some blood (gross) off his umbrella.

Though he's a little on edge, he's been on edge. Nothing about any of this is right, or normal; it's unfortunate, but he's used to seeing fleeting shadows in the corner of his eye, distant shapes obscured in the rain. One human-sized shadow lumbers slowly toward him from some yards away, but it's got to be another illusion, from the way the blood-rain seems to simply phase right through its body. They should keep an eye on it. At least until they leave. Kamui frowns.]

I'm ready to leave when you are.

👁️ eye stuff

[worldbent]

[He was fairly used to this dream, all things considered; blackness, out from which peered multitudes of seeking eyes, not in pairs, but singles. A single left eye, and a missing right which bore into the darkness.]

[Even after escaping its clutches, its power was lingering in the rain, searching for him.]

Eye.... eye.... where is it...? The right eye....

[The same foolish muttering as always. Was it actually there, still lurking in the darkness for its chance to strike? No matter what the case, Matoba had to press onward. Even if it was still following him, it couldn't try again for another month, and he had work to do to secure protective wards in the shelters wherever they were needed.]

[Nothing to do but continue forward, dispelling whatever nightmares and connecting with whatever Lost Souls he came across in his path.]