[SEMI-CLOSED] wretched and wild, all glory and trash.

[killtime]

⬤ Permissions Post ⬤
⬤ Open TDM Thread ⬤

Who ⬤ Andromache of Enma & likely questionable company!
What ⬤ Bastard woman desperately seeks naps and other thrilling tales
When ⬤ Catch-all for late June, after the events at Kaigo no Bou, and throughout July
Where ⬤ Andy's apartment (derogatory), various other locations in Jigoku-cho
Content Warnings ⬤ Profanity, violence, substance use, sex, etc. To be updated as needed!


PM or whaler#7695 if you'd like a starter!
Existing CR is welcome to drop wildcards.

Comments

[killtime]

[ Maybe if the Department of the Enma is feeling generous, they'll find a way to get Monts reimbursed for her donation to the cause. But Andy doesn't seem particularly concerned with the logistics — they have a stack of magazines that would give the Pope an aneurysm. If this won't lure in their quarry, who the fuck knows what will. ]

Sure. I know some of the bartenders around here. They'll probably let us use their storage or something.

[ She won't get into how she knows the bartenders so well. It probably doesn't take much guessing either. This is a woman that looks like she has a vice or two. But she's true to her word — one of the small dive bars has a backroom they're willing to loan to the cause, especially with a little under-the-table bribery. Andy waits for Monts outside the establishment, holding the door for her so they can lay their trap.

Dryly, as she watches Monts build their trail of "breadcrumbs": ]

You gonna take all those porn rags home with you after? Seems like a waste of good literature otherwise.

[nerine]

[Monts has down the last fetish magazine in front of the backroom door spreading it open so that the double-page of two well-endowed cat-eared maids in volleyball costumes are very, blatant (look, these it just happens to be a whole series) before going out and answering Andy.]

Well, I guess I could just surreptitiously leave a pile of them on the waiting table at the cabaret club. The other option is just to leave it as is out in the open, but I don't believe in littering the streets with porno.

[It's quite a sight isn't it? Since the weather isn't too extreme in Jigokucho, the pages of the magazine trail only slightly flutter in the air. There are some denizens who pass by and look at the setup with some curiosity (those Lost Souls man), but they're gonna mind their own business.]

Alright. I can keep an eye out for him so you can be ready when he starts following the trail.

[Will this work even... Then again, Mr. Libido did seem to appreciate all things horny, it would override any sense.]

[killtime]

[ Gods forbid they litter. ]

Should we have some kind of signal?

[ It's hard to tell by her tone if she's serious or not. Her face doesn't give away much either. Does she expect Monts to make some kind of nature call to alert her when the pervert comes creeping around the corner or what? Maybe caw like a bird a few times? ]

[nerine]

[Monts reaches into her pocket to hold out her smartphone.]

Why don't I just text you? Might want to keep it on vibrate or silent so he doesn't catch on.

[Well, at least she's taking this seriously and practically too, even if she was the one who suggested the porno mag breadcrumb trail.]

[killtime]

[ That's an infinitely better idea. Andy's not very good with her phone, but she can at least figure out the little switch to put it on silent mode. It only takes a minute for them to exchange numbers, then Andy gives a lazy two-fingered salute in Monts' direction before she withdraws to wait at the storage room, their trap set for Mr. Libido.

She can only pray to the rottings gods that the pervert hasn't wandered off too far. ]

[nerine]

[After exchanging numbers, Monts wanders down the block where the path of the mags has been created. It's more of a zig-zag than a straight line just to be extra sneaky. Part of her thinks that maybe this is kind of a dumb idea, but the whole concept of the gyrating underwear man as dumb. Stupid people call for stupid solutions.

And fortunately, Andy and Monts' lucky (?) day. Andy gets a text:]

Heads up. He's here.

[A video clip of Mr. Libido follows after showing the man shaking excitedly and whooping when he sees the first fetish magazine, lying out there in the open. Monts is hidden from view as she had filmed him.

And even more crazy, he's starting to pick up the magazines one after the other.]

ETA: Probably 3 minutes? More if he keeps lingering on the really spicy spreads.

[killtime]

[ It is, admittedly, not exactly a mastermind's scheme. But the prey they're after isn't exactly a super-genius either. Mr. Libido seems like a creature with fairly straight forward motivations, and any additional effort probably would've been wasted on him anyway. Andy has enough time to smoke half a cigarette before her phone lights up with a new text message. She opens the video, watches about 10 seconds, then sighs wearily, taking one last drag before smothering what's left underneath her boot.

Her partner's guess isn't too far off. A little over three minutes, then Andy hears the excited, eager noises of their underwear-clad friend just outside the storage room as he follows the trail of porno rags. She doesn't try to peek. No sense in giving herself away when they've already gone through all this trouble. She can wait. And wait. And wait. Even though the next few minutes feels like a fucking eternity before finally — finally, Mr. Libido ambles into the storage room to reach for that last magazine.

Andy moves quickly. Efficiently. She plants her boot on square on the pervert's ass, leaving a shoe print on his tighty-whiteys as she kicks him forward into the room, sending Mr. Libido into a sprawling tangle of limbs and porn as she backs away to shut the door on him. There. Done. ]

got him
i'll call it in
meet you outside

[ By the time Monts comes back to meet up with her, Andy is already finished reporting the location of their perp to Kaigo no Bou — now she's back to chainsmoking, a fresh cigarette hanging from the corner of her mouth as she waits. ]