March 2022 IC Mingle

[jigokumods]

MAIN NAVIGATION

1. WELCOMING COMMITTEE

cw: optional aphro in Tamamo Clan prompt

The influx of Lost Souls means the factions need to have a little welcoming party of sorts. The leaders of each faction each send a message to their new recruits, telling them to meet at their respective headquarters.

The Shuten Clan directs their new recruits to the Arena. There’s plenty of food and booze to go along with the exhibition matches from the toughest fighters they’ve got. Enjoy the view or get involved in an arena fight, if you’re feeling spicy. If bloodsport isn’t your cup of tea, there’s a number of gambling games to partake in, too – don’t worry, your money isn’t at stake here, unless you want it to be.

The Tamamo Clan recruits are sent to the brothel Mizukume. Hosts of all sorts are there to fill your every need. If you’re not one to be doted on, there’s also exotic dancers in every state of undress for you to look at. You may be tasked with being a host or a dancer yourself. If you’re not in the mood for that, there’s plenty of food from Tamamo-controlled restaurants to eat and seemingly endless drinks. The drinks may or may not have a little something extra in them, so check the labels carefully.

The Sutoku Alliance meets at the nightclub Konoha. It’s truly a celebration with an enormous amount of fast food from every joint in their district and an equal amount of cheap drinks. Sing your heart out with live band karaoke – don’t worry about them not knowing your song, they seem to have a depth of knowledge beyond this world. Once that settles down, there’s plenty of dancing to do or you can be a wallflower, whatever suits your mood.

The Department of the Enma meets at a meeting room on the top floor of Kaigo no Bou. The room is uncomfortably opulent and wouldn’t be out of place in a Heian imperial court. Fine silk tapestries cover the walls, richly lacquered wood is inlaid with gold, and it all feels like it was decorated by someone with more money than taste. There’s fine food and even finer drink available. Various multi-armed youkai play in a jazz band, playing their instruments in a much more complicated manner than strictly necessary. Stretch your legs and dance. Take a peek out the window for a bird’s eye view of the city. If the interior is too stuffy for you, escape to the roof for some fresh air – just be careful not to fall off.

2. PARTY TIME

CW: optional aphro

After everyone’s had their fill of food, drink, and entertainment: the party isn’t over. They’re told to make their way to Konoha with the instruction to show their faction’s pride. That’s a careful way to tell them to raise hell. Upon arrival, all recruits are provided with an advance on their pay by The Enma. Food is provided by the Shuten Clan, a variety of all sorts of meaty foods. Drinks are provided by the Tamamo Clan, but be wary because some may have that special Tamamo kick to them (read: aphro). It’s technically a neutral meeting place, but there’s almost certain to be a fight sooner or later. Entertain yourself, meet the other factions, and raise some Hell.

Welcome to the IC mingle!

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Comments

[hashira]

[ More than slight offense at the face of his proper inquiry being dismissed, he never gains an answer to his question yet he is meant to be sufficed by being fed a name. With that introduction he begins to grasp on to the full egoism on display, his response remains to further stare at his newfound attachment.

If Giyu was meant to be cowed, there is minimal change in his countenance. Appearing unflappable, no information can be easily garnered from observing him. He may as well have been a wall. From his own perspective, Giyu has seen enough of the creature at his side, the accusation of his question being foolish accompanied by a threat won't warm him. Finally, he averts his gaze opting to focus his attention straight ahead. Already willing himself out of the nightclub, far off somewhere else, in a somewhere impossible to reach at the present time.

As for the question of familiarity to be found in the name uttered, though it may be old and sparsely known tale, one which details of escape him, recognition flares. He makes no mention of it, all the same it seems that it hardly matters to the one calling himself Ryomen Sukuna. At that moment, his decision has been made. Suddenly at his feet knowing he won't be able to manage this conversation, sensing his own displeasure rising. Perhaps he is quick to decide he doesn't enjoy his current company, but for now, it is best if he made his way out of the club.

For once, if briefly, Sukuna would receive a clue to thought. Short-lived as it may be, the incredulous look upon Giyu's face tells all. There is nothing fortunate to be discovered, on the contrary.

A short bow signals his farewell before he is ducking away without a word. ]

[thousand]

[ It might be that he is so inured to fear on a face that he expects it before it even crosses the features. Perhaps it was really there. Sukuna presumes in the split second that the hashira bows his way out, that he must know, exactly, what he is. Of course, his reputation was taught in the lesser-known schools— the warnings found their ways through the years to become myths. The terrified campfire tales of the two-faced creature became something to whisper just before a children's game— a test of courage in an abandoned building, or on a dark, humid night in the rainy season.

He knows the boy intends to leave, so it's half a second before he reaches out a hand— those wicked claws fully exposed— and grabs him by the wrist so viciously that he feels the skin split where the nails dig in.

There will be marks there; not the crescent indents of nails either— Sukuna's claws are as long as any oversized carnivore's.

They dig further.

He draws the boy back, to purr into his ear: ]

Don't think I can't smell you for what you are, child. [ There's violence in the voice, too; even if it sputters like an engine— lazy and dragging. ] You reek of your magic.

[ Jujutsu, cursed energy— there are names for the hashira's techniques in his time, but he knows, barely, the rumours of the fire wielders and the water wielders. A dangerous lot— best to scare him into his place early on.

The claws keep digging; the tendons in Sukuna's wrist standing out. ]

You don't want me as your enemy, so tread lightly.

[hashira]

[ Details of the tale are a blur, difficult to recall, to the point of impossibility. It's an olden myth akin to those of varied youkai, from the many tailed foxes who take on a human form or those long lived cats. Even popular folklore isn't easy to recall, Momotaro's tale, that fisherman lost for one hundred years, they're olden myths spread at the laps of elders bestowed upon the next generation. For someone like Giyu, there wasn't the opportunity to engrave those such tales to memory.

Orphaned young, left in the care of his kind, hardworking older sister, she too was lost to him. A single decision is what led him down the path he travels now. At a crossroad Giyu had he not taken destiny into his own hands, had he not, then without a doubt his situation would be drastically different. Perhaps, if the boy he once was allowed others to decide his future, had he accepted their judgment of him then he would know those stories by heart.

As it stands, knowledge or lack of pertaining to this folk figure matters not. Malcontent has settled in, aloof as he may be, he is still a stubborn man.

Therefore to divest himself of present company, he made his choice, even if he is miffed about having to give up the safety he found in this small corners of the nightclub. Measured steps, determined — yet he is forced to a halt. Not quick enough to evade capture his wrist is taken hostage, yet he obstinately refuses to glance back at his captor. The press of nails dig deeper, past the protective layer of cloth, only the fangs and nails of high ranking demons can make their mark.

It's telling as his flesh is pierced, as blood pools around the wounds, droplets of scarlet trickle and scatter upon the nightclub floor (likely nothing new). If Sukuna expects to easily draw him back, it's going to be a struggle one that ultimately Giyu does not win. ]

We won't be exchanging words again.

[ That is all he has to say, basically amounting to: I'm never talking to you. With that he wrenches himself free, in spite of pointed curves digging deeper, even as they further carve into skin. But he is free. The only thing left to wonder is if it's due to his own volition and strength or was he shown a reprieve by the creature he leaves behind. ]

[thousand]

Won't we.

[ There's something manic in the way that Sukuna smiles at him now, something feral and creature-like and evil. The scent of blood hits him immediately and he allows Giyu to reclaim his hand, raising his own claws to his mouth and licking off the blood with a pleased sneer. It's permitted— he lets him go. But, the boy's blood tastes of the ocean; the salt of it, and Sukuna has a taste for him now. He'll find that little exorcist again, he thinks, and the next time will be far less cordial.

Or— not.

His whims can turn at the slightest prompting, and well— those eyes are very lovely. He's not as quick to crush a beautiful thing; maybe he'll give him a chance to grovel for his life. Perhaps he'll forgive his insolence and his exorcist ways if the boy allows him to creep in close.

There are many things a human will do to maintain their life.

Sukuna's not adverse to taking the things that he wants through force, too, or by threat.

That red gaze follows Giyu as he exits, as if he can still see him even through the bodies of the people that crowd the club. ]