(open/closed) you were a wild thing

[dissimilar]

Who ⬤ shou (tamamo) & you!
What ⬤ september/october catch-all.
When ⬤ various.
Where ⬤ also various.
Content Warnings ⬤ none yet, will update as needed. (shou being a blockhead.)

(ooc: various open and closed prompts for orientation-related threads, substories, mingly things, etcetera. pm or grab me at elate if you'd like a starter!)

Comments

— ᴏᴘᴇɴ sᴜʙsᴛᴏʀɪᴇs.

[dissimilar]

DOGGED THE BOUNTY HUNTERS

[ jigokucho might be seated in hell, but when push comes to shove, it's still a city not unlike the one he calls home. there is a vibrant heart, a dark underbelly, a sinuous pulse running through streets like veins. skyscrapers rise, leaving ribcage-like divots in the meat of the beast it protects below, beaded with oily light and condensation. there is the breath of its workings, and then there is shou who has been given a task.

take care of the opposition.

despite being tamamo, he doesn't use trickery, deception, or sweet words for this assignment. even disarmed, he feels as though he can go toe-to-toe with what sutoku, shuten, and enma have to offer. and in the alleyway he occupies, punctuated by scuffles, impacts of flesh, dim gurgling and warm splatters, he's out to prove it. there supposedly lies an informant somewhere in this area, so he's trying to keep the area clear for allies. he's at the tail end of a little row, leaving a handsome pile of bodies behind him; notably, they are alive. perhaps missing a few appendages they could stand to part with, but alive. whether it's in warning or charity isn't immediately clear. his last opponent rushes him in the deep shadows and he stands his ground as if he's tempted to just take the blade aimed for his gut as leverage.

then — it's as if he consciously remembers he shouldn't do that, his sidestep comes with the price of the knife glancing off his side, shearing fabric and skin alike. but the opening is all he needs to grab his attacker by the scruff and bring his knee up into the hollow of ribs. there's a thick crack and shou uses the momentum to haul him in a half circle and throw him to the ground, stomping on his back with one heel.

his breath plumes in the cool, humid air when a lapse in the neon light at the mouth of the alleyway catches his attention. he lifts his arm straight, a simple dagger clutched in his gloved palm like a sight. the other tugs the hood of his jacket down. ]

Who's there?

[ more like: friend or foe? ]

[hardrocklife]

[The person who followed him in here also wears a hood: one of pure white, matching the scarf that covers his lower face and the cape that drapes over his shoulders.

He glances at the dagger, then looks to one of the crumpled bodies. It groans after a few moments. Looks like they're still alive.]

Getting a little carried away, aren't you?

[dissimilar]

I don't believe so.

[ smooth, youthful — his voice would almost sound a little cheeky, if he weren't so serious about it. he hops off the last man, currently deflated under his heel, leaving him to wheeze in a gulp of air. his steps hit wet pavement and square there; he doesn't sheath his blade. ]

This serves as more of a warning. This species of youkai will regrow whatever I've taken off.

[hardrocklife]

You sure of that?

[He looks doubtful, but it's not like he knows enough about any youkai to dispute it. The body he's looking at stirs, then tries to lift itself up. Zelgadis just nudges them with his foot.] Just stay down. [He warns them casually, in a low voice.]

[dissimilar]

I'm sure.

[ giving a small lift of his hood with his thumb, bright blue eyes flash from beneath the dark fabric and dark hair underneath. he glances off behind him, though his attention is only half there just in case this person is a new threat. ]

This isn't unlike legwork I would perform at home.

[hardrocklife]

... That so?

[He steps closer, seemingly unconcerned about any hints of hostility.]

Even so, this isn't home. Try not to get too in over your head. [His gaze turns to Shou's side, where he was slashed.] They get you?

[sweetsong]

[ brutal.

robin has never been one for violence. even with the call to eliminate those who might be the most troublesome of the unaffiliated hunters acting as a way to self-promote, there are some things that he couldn't do. that he won't do. not that he won't get his hands dirty if need be, but his feelings come first. that is the one thing that hasn't changed: to stay true to himself. to not lose who he is. granted it's become harder to do around... ah, certain individuals, but! robin laffite is still robin laffite.

it's the scent of blood that catches his attention. down to this alley, a space in between territories that he would normally run through as quickly as possible. he feels safer in sutoku when outside of his own. enma? they're okay too. but it's the shuten that he fears the most; they could easily catch this rabbit by his scruff and wave him around like a squeaky toy.

and a familiar voice rings out from it. ]

Ah! Sorry, sorry. [ robin holds his hands up in front of himself. palms open. no apparent weapons. ] Shou, is that you?

[ as he gets closer, it's only then he spots the bodies. his smile melts away into surprise. not shock. not horror. ]

Oh. [ a weak laugh. ] You weren't kidding about what you do, huh?

[ not that he thought shou was joking around. ]

Are you hurt? Do you... um, do they need help...?

[dissimilar]

[ ah, that voice...

briefly, his heart twinges, but it's a sensation quickly lost to the undertow of his own inclemency. there was always a chance those who've come to know him by more ordinary means would see him this way — here, there's less reason to hide it. here in this alleyway with the evidence of a blood-deep violence stretched out behind him, he reasons that this is just who he is. capability given human shape until its humanity was taken away.

he steps down, quietly stowing the blade in its thigh holster. ]

Yes, it's me. [ his gaze flickers back coolly. ] They — will be fine, in time. Unless they visit this area again, then I might cut off pieces that can't be grown back.

[ an explanation and a warning to those still conscious. ]

As for me, I'm okay.

[ he is bleeding but seems not to notice it. ]

[sweetsong]

That's...

[ harsh. funny how it's shou who's introducing robin to this kind of blunt and rational way of dealing with problems instead of just singing or smiling it away? then again, every time robin's been in the face of danger, he's only gotten hurt: an elbow that had debris crash into it, a knife held to his throat and then a smack to his head. despite not wanting to find danger, danger found him. after all, he's practically a pacifist. cotton candy that could wilt at the very sight of anything liquid. ]

... are you, though?

[ because he can smell something that isn't quite youkai blood. something that's fresher. that he approaches shou with concern laced along his features, mostly in his brow and eyes. he's not afraid of the weapon that's been tucked away. ]

I see it. It's right there.

[ he points to shou's side and robin grimaces. ]

As your senior, let me take care of you. Okay?

[dissimilar]

You don't need to trouble yourself with it, Robin-san.

[ it's true that he's bleeding, the damp shine of it seeping into already dark clothes. shou's gaze pins to robin as if implicating him in how he came to notice it; it's a shallow reminder of what he's lost by coming here, and also what he's gained: a body that bleeds to mend itself with human slowness, signaling to him its sudden normalcy.

but his reaction to it remains, expression untroubled by pain or anything at all, really. ]

As my senior, you must have other duties to see to right now.

[ let him do the dirty work? ]

— ʜᴀʀᴜ (ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏᴡɴʟᴏᴀᴅ ᴀ ᴄʟᴜᴇ.)

[dissimilar]

[ word travels fast in this city when there's a job to be done, which is good news for shou because he's nothing if not dedicated to earning his keep. not that marie expected it of him when opening her apartment to him, but it works in his favor — financially and spatially. he's in sutoku territory enough to have heard of the newest internet cafe's deep pockets and unending troubles, so he's come to size the job up.

right now, he's idling a good distance away from the place, noting its location, exterior, unique passersby... but so as not to appear suspicious in his stakeout, he's seated at one of the outdoor tables of a bakery across the street, a bag of to-go pastries in the chair next to him.

because he's watching everyone around him (even with a milk cream bread in his mouth) he pauses when he recognizes a familiar face approaching. ]

Okumura-san?

[empression]

Oh?

[ He receives an inquisitive look, one that quickly brightens as she recognizes the person who'd just called out to her. Mildly. ]

Tenkuubashi-kun! Hello. I-- were you eating lunch? [ do pastries count as lunch? Well, bread... ]

[dissimilar]

No, I'm performing a stakeout.

[ — he says, casually. as if that's a normal thing one does at a cute bakery. ]

But seeing as this is a good vantage point, I thought I'd try the pastries while I'm here. [ he gestures to the very... full bag... ] Help yourself.

[empression]

A... stakeout? I thought that was best done with binoculars and behind a bush...

[ well, who is she to judge. ]

Ah, are you sure, though? I wouldn't want to take anything you purchased for yourself. [ Which. Appears to be all of it?? ]

[dissimilar]

[ a bakery, a bush... it's all the same to him as long as he can see what he needs to. and sitting here, he does look pretty unassuming, especially with another milk cream bun already in his mouth. ]

Yes, go ahead. Besides, it might look strange if I'm the only one eating.

[ remember, it's a stakeout; they gotta look natural. ]

— ᴀʏᴀᴋᴀ.

[dissimilar]

[ tamamo's territory is a formidable one. debauched mysticism, violent revelry. it's like being inside the belly of a beast, past the initiation of its maw and down into its bright and vulgar insides. its breath is perfumed with smoke and its shadows stretch long and kaleidoscopic, compacted by the neon signs that adorn every brothel entrance. music blooms from doors heaving open and slamming closed again at the bottom of dark stairwells... truly, one can be swallowed by this place, if not careful.

shou wonders if he belongs here, but his loyalty is easily directed — there's nothing for it but to familiarize himself. so he approaches mizukume, tenkohime's very own seat of power. it's as impressive as one might think despite it not really being what he's here for. luckily, he looks it, pace slowing as he swivels his head around to search for his fellow tamamo initiate.

perhaps he should have sent or requested a picture for who he's actually looking for... ]

[soumetsu]

[ he's not alone in thinking that, to be honest.

ayaka's been lingering near the entrance of mizukume, quietly observing to comings and goings of the clan's members while politely avoiding and declining the invitation from patrons. freedom is one of the edicts of tenkohime, and that extends to what they're permitted to do, what they're allowed to pursue. not that stops anyone from asking anyway despite being dressed simply compared to the courtesans in the brothel and having a sword slung at her back.

if only she'd asked for a photo, then she wouldn't have to stand here and figure out who's who, too shy to accost each and everyone who passes by. she supposes that that's her mistake, and now she's paying for it. all she has is a name, so she might as well put it to use while she's here.

she walks over to the reception area, introducing herself as one of the new members of the clan with a slight bow. ]

I'm looking for a person from the clan ... [ a clan member looking for another clan member through the reception desk. ] His name is Tenkuubashi Shou-san. I was wondering if he's already dropped by.

[dissimilar]

[ with so much to look at within the heart of tamamo, shou also has the bright idea to try the receptionist; it's an area to conduct business, after all. may as well use it as such. yet when he approaches he hears the faint shape of his own name's syllables, prompting him to venture: ]

...Kamisato-san?

[ among those who come and go beneath the lights, very few are carrying swords. ]

[soumetsu]

[ her name surprises her that she nearly jumps, her years of training and education in etiquette keeping her from whirling around in a panic. she does momentarily look confused at the person who addressed her before she smiles and gives him a slight bow, hands folded primly in front of her. ]

Tenkuubashi-san?

[ or she hopes he is. please save her from her introverted misery and tell her she's not calling random people names. ]

My apologies, I should've organized this meet-up a little more methodically.

[dissimilar]

Yes, it's me. [ shou inclines his head with equal consideration for the ways in which he kinda messed this up. live and learn, this inviting someone out thing is a whole new frontier. ] There's nothing you have to apologize to me for, I also didn't really prepare for this...

[ "this" being how they're meeting up, but also — he gives a pointed glance to the way mizukume looms in all its luminous, fortified glory. ]

But thank you for agreeing to meet with me regardless.

— ᴍᴜsᴀsʜɪ.

[dissimilar]

[ out here in mizukume, where old kinsei keeps the armory.

once the sun sets, drenching tamamo's territory in the vibrancy of its famed night, shou sets out for the field with the directions he was given. luckily, once given a goal, he's not easily lead off track by the glaring blossoms of neon that throw deep shadows all over the streets, easy enough for bodies to duck away and melt into. once he finds his destination, it's quieter (for now), though he can still hear bells, music, and laughter, the air itself hemmed by the smell of flowers. in a way, he feels it in his skin, too.

the buzz of adrenaline, not yet stoked.

he gives his senior tamamo a quick call as instructed, brief and to the point: "I've arrived. Meet with me at your convenience." ]

[ryototsukai]

[ Her convenience turned out to be about ten minutes after the message was sent, arriving still in her work clothes, but her swords ready at her hip. The practice field was pretty sizeable, giving plenty of room for a standard duel. The city still towered around them, but like the rest of Mizukume, the field itself felt antiquated in turn. Tenkohime's personal brothel seemed more like a personal fort, the more one thought about it... probably entirely on purpose. ]

It's quite a contrast, isn't it? Between Mizukume and the rest of the city.

[dissimilar]

[ her voice resonates across the field and shou politely inclines his head in greeting, soles already anchored to the ground as if his resting stance is always in anticipation of something. but he's otherwise calm, contented to soak up the environment with an easiness seemingly at odds with his formality. ]

It is. It's striking to see for the first time.

[ though in truth, it's striking even now. ]

That it feels unapologetic suits it, though.

[ryototsukai]

I agree.... Though there's an artifice to it all, given this place is actually more like a fortress than a brothel once you learn how it all works.

[ Musashi just outright saying it... well. He was a swear-in, so it was fine. Probably. Hopefully. ]

But all that aside, it's become a second home to me. To a lot of us. Hopefully it will, for you, too.

[ But they weren't really there to discuss Mizukume. She gestured to the nearby weapons rack. ]

Ready to get started?

[dissimilar]

I see.

[ curiosity plays on his features at the remark, less disbelief and more a docile sense of wonder at what power mizukume holds. not just in its pretty grip, but in its cohesion. its execution. quietly, he approaches the weapons rack, drawn to a set of long daggers — melee range. ]

If my home were a fortress, then it would suit me fine to protect it with my life.

[ weighing the blades in his hands, he flips them in his grasp so the flats lay against his forearms like extensions on himself.

it doesn't matter if they're not his blades. ]

Anytime, Miyamoto-san.