jigokulogs | (open/event stuff!) a cemetery where i marry the sea

Entry tags:

(open/event stuff!) a cemetery where i marry the sea

Who ⬤ shinichi & you
What ⬤ event + one aftermath!
When ⬤ during tanabata and a week after.
Where ⬤ festival + a small ass bar.
Content Warnings ⬤ lmao so many. let's go. violence, underage sex work mentions, underage drinking, underage smoking, underage drug use, death, shock, trauma, etc.

Threaded | Flat

(he's not going to gamble when there's no dime in him that can be wasted on such frivolous thing. this is food, cigarette, rent, alcohol and bills money. doesn't really stop him from looking around the tables, though. he's good at picking up games quick, and perhaps once he's better settled, he could sit on a table.

... not to mention, there's no mahjong - or at least, he didn't see it. if he is going to bet on anything, it would be his skills, and apparently, tonight's not his night.

all he's doing is checking out the place instead, feet guiding him wherever they feel like strolling by, until he finds the arena... and bolts out of there immediately, a hand over his heart to calm the fluttering and anxiety peak he experienced. not that he had really seen anything, but still, the screaming and bills flung in the air as well as grunts are not for the faint of heart.

better get the hell out before he was seen, anyway. let him calm, a hand picking a cigarette from within his (finally) properly-worn yukata, to his lips it goes, a deep breath and no looking back.

wow. what's up with this place, really?)

(shin's made a promise. if his contract is entirely for hachiko's sake, he isn't going to engage in something she more than unequivocally asked him to quit - and he told her he had done.

kind of. maybe. unimportant.

so, while painfully familiar, and quite honestly, his finest expertise, he's not going to partake with the more personal aspects of tamamo. instead, he finds himself behind the counter, a chuckle every now and then leaving his lips at witnessed faux pas and successes. he's bartending, and he's judging, too.

come, friends, he'll make nice cocktails and use his charm in other ways.

at some point, shin holds a finger to the conversation as to ask for a second, as his observant eyes haven't really quit looking around.)

... Wow. That person's really good... They got the customer's taste right away from a single look... What a pro.

(and so, shin performs. it's been fun and a trip to listen to the trajectory of music the years ahead of him, and from other dimensions? it's a blast even he wasn't expecting. shin knows - pop is a bit off to his image, but he does love to play the guitar, and molding songs to fit his own style of playing is a challenge that he didn't expect to be so blissful.

besides, it's not like he can play his own songs - it feels a little empty when it's just him, as much as he fears the day his bandmates come. it's not something he's nearly ready to address. "the company is in the red because of you" is just not a good conversation when he isn't even home to begin with.

once his off the stage, he's glowing from happiness, grabbing the first person he sees by the wrist.)

Hey! Let's drink!

(there hasn't been so much for shin to worry about in hell, not thus far. familiar, yet not so, but always in a way he could make do. sex sells, drugs sell, bad, violent neighborhoods should be avoided, one needs money to survive, he still doesn't know

what isn't so familiar is the thud of a body hitting the floor, the cracking of bones echoing in his ears, and he can't help but look in utter shock, salt and water filling his eyes before he can even process what they had seen.

and even before he does, he sees kate, fleeing towards it. he can't deal with this, the whitenoise of scream and panic filling his ears and he just finds a corner to sit on, trying to steady ever shaking hands as he finds grounding on the cigarette he attempts to light with no success. there's no strength in his thumb to push the button.

and the tears don't stop falling. fuck. fuck. fuck.)

(well, nothing like good old trauma and fighting with the girl you're the closest to to make one want to drown feelings, right? he can still hear it.

he's not coming home so soon. one drink, two drinks, keeping it cheap even if he has money now. stuffing his nose when no one is seeing so more booze can fill his stomach.

3am. he's outside the designated bar he chose for this bender, where drinks are reasonable, the music doesn't suck, and he can be at peace. teeth press against the joint he has between them, smoke held in his lungs, before it slowly trickles down his nostrils.

silence. finally.)

Threaded | Flat

gambling problem

pleasure palace - feel free to threadjack!

a celebration

the murder - happiness is fleeting.

aftermath