IC INBOX [CITY]

[aceslow]

INBOX text / audio / video / action "Kitsuragi speaking." art credit code credit

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[aceslow]

Generally, you do fuck out with your cock out, so it's not a logistical error.

But it's supposed to rhyme. Try again.

[horrifictie]

rhyme too?
damn. ok.


let's
COCK OUT
AS WE ROCK OUT

[aceslow]

You're so close.

Now put that thing down, flip it, and reverse it.

[ Hey, maybe Revachol speaks through Kim too. She's a Missy Elliot fan. ]

[aceslow]

I wasn't really in the position to.

[ Generally, they wound up imprisoned or dead. He's in as much of a hurry to visit them in prison as he is to visit their gravestones. ]

I'm afraid I won't have much advice on that front. Do you believe yourself to be in danger?

[petsthedog]

[Immediately:]

no

[But there’s a significant pause after that, as though he’s debating whether to say more or simply go to bed and leave Kitsuragi alone. He’d probably prefer not to have to deal with this anyway—especially with how their last conversation turned out.

At length:]

he wants to be friends
but he shouldn’t
it’s my fault he’s
like us

[aceslow]

[ Emotional danger rather than physical danger, then. It's not a shame, necessarily, but Kim is far less capable of dealing with this particular evil. ]

Like us? What do you mean by that?

[ Facts first, probable misplaced guilt later, like an itemized list he has in front of him about dealing with vulnerable youth: safe space first, fixes later. That's what it says in the manuals. Not that Kitsuragi's ever been much good at it, but here, he's Aragaki's best option. ]

[petsthedog]

[Shit. He’d hoped Kitsuragi would have caught on without having to actually say it directly.]

yknow
an orphan

[aceslow]

Ah.

[ Hm. ]

If he still wants to be friends, that is a clear indication that he doesn't hold you truly responsible for what happened.

If I ask you what happened, will you tell me?

[petsthedog]

[On kneejerk, at the first part:]

he did though
he used to
but now its like he feels bad about it since i died
stupid

[The request for context takes him a little longer to think about. The idea of laying the whole sordid, miserable tale bare is both tempting and terrifying. A push-pull of conflicted desires, guilt and self-punishment, instinct to guard his heart versus take the razor to it himself. What does he want from Kim? To be judged? Punished? Understood? He's not sure. He's a little afraid to find out.

But it is 3 in the morning, and he has woken Kitsuragi for something. The mortification of being a coward now might be worse than the pain of ripping himself open.]

it's hard to explain

[He admits. It's a start. Now he just has to keep going.]

remember how when we met i mentioned the city bein so empty seemed kind of like the weird shit that happens at midnight where i'm from

those of us who can experience the dark hour like that're said to have "the potential"
it's called that because we might be able to summon these beings from our soul--persona

i know all that probably sounds insane, i thought i was losing it too, first time i was awake for the dark hour
important part is, personas are the only thing that can fight the shadows, these monsters that come out during it, feed on people's minds and leave 'em in comas

there were three of us back then, fighting shadows
one night a shadow got loose from the place we usually fought em and we chased it down to this neighborhood
and uh

[This is the difficult part, of course. The typing dots linger a while as he tries to work up the will to write down what happened.]

i lost control of my persona
it went on a rampage and crushed a house with the kid's mom in it and he watched it happen
and i swear if you're gonna try to tell me it wasn't my fault this conversation's over

[aceslow]

[ In truth, Kim had half-expected Aragaki to turn him away, to say that it was nothing, to leave him with nothing. He wouldn't blame the kid. The weight of orphaning a child is a heavy one -- a weight that he himself bears, but without the same sense of remorse and regret, with the distilled clarity of a grown man who had known what he was doing, who had done it intentionally. He does not expect anyone to divulge that sort of thing to him.

But slowly, steadily, the story appears on his screen in flashes of text, as impassive as though he were reading a case report instead of hearing the story of the troubled young man he has come to know in some shape or form over the past few months. A few months ago, he would have thought that Aragaki was having a significant psychic break, and would be remorseful that there was no mental health practitioner he could send him away to.

Now? He's seen too much to doubt the kid's story now. ]

I see.

[ He can't say it wasn't his fault. What now? ]

I'm sorry it happened. To all of you.

[ He's quiet for another couple of minutes as he mulls over what to say next. ]

So. This kid. He came after you blaming you for his mother's death. And then he saw what happened to you when you first arrived, how you had been shot. And now he wants to rebuild a relationship with you. Have I got that right?

[petsthedog]

[...That'd probably be easier than the truth, frankly. Shinjiro sighs, rubbing at his face. He's never told the story to anyone else before; the only ones who knew had been there. He continues writing it up for the man, though it goes slow. Sometimes one line at a time and nothing further for several minutes. Sometimes the typing dots hang interminably before disappearing, and it's possible he's abandoned the story without finishing it. But eventually, the whole picture begins to emerge.]

it's more complicated than that
i passed out sometime while my persona was goin wild, so i dunno exactly what happened to him afterward
if he got shipped off to some orphanage like me or if he had other folks to take him or what but he had the potential, and he ended up with my old group a couple years later
he was looking for me, to get revenge

i would've let him have it, but we got interrupted

[He hesitates here, considering whether it's actually worth getting into Strega and the nature of that interruption, but ultimately decides it's too long and complicated of a tangent, especially since it requires the explanation of the suppressants he'd avoided last time, too. He'll stick to the bare bones.]

that's its own long story but the short version is, the kid was gonna get killed because of shit i did trying to make up for the first mess i made
and i couldn't let that happen
now it's like he thinks he owes me or some shit when i'm the reason he was in that mess in the first place and i'm the one who ruined his life

he's literally sleeping down the goddamn hall right now because it's not like i could fucking tell him not to stay with me
i don't know what to do

[aceslow]

[ All right. This is all very complicated, and is dealing with supernatural matters far beyond Kim's own comprehension. Which means that he needs to break it down properly for himself to figure out how to respond. He hasn't worked in Juvie for a while - wasn't good at this shit even when he was in Juvie - but now he's wishing he kept more up to date on the literature.

Not that the literature ever did him any good. He was a traumatized kid too - though to a much, much, much lesser degree - and he never felt any of it rang true. So, dispensing with the supernatural nature of it all, he has it broken down like so, pen tapping in his notebook, pages that will soon be torn out and burned:

Aragaki, an orphan, was taken on by a - deeply unethical - organization for their own subterfuge and warfare. In one of those missions, he accidentally shot a young boy's mother. Aforementioned young boy was later taken on by the same organization, which clearly peddles in using traumatized youth for their own means, in an effort to find the one who killed his mother and to exact his own revenge. Only, after he had it in his grasp, it was taken from him, only for him to have to deal with the ramifications. He writes, Aragaki: shot protecting child? and circles it twice. That sounds about right. Now they're both here, and... things have changed.

Okay. He can work with this. Well, he can't, but he can at least try. ]

Okay. I think I've got a handle on the situation. I am sorry that you both went through this, for the record. It's not the sort of thing anyone should go through. Nor the sort of thing anyone would be able to cope with, immediately afterwards.

[ It feels important to point that much out. ]

He's in a strange new place, with nobody he knows. Of course he would latch onto the familiar, in spite of, or because of, your history. Think you can slip out without waking him up? This conversation might be best had in person. And we're both awake anyway.

[petsthedog]

[It's a nice sentiment, of course; no, neither of them should've gone through it. He'd give anything to take it back if he could, but you can't change the past. It had always been straightforward to him, the notion of simply fading away and letting others move on without him, but now that he's confronted with the very evidence of the future that's carried on without him, he feels off-balance.

So he doesn't really know how to react to Kitsuragi's compassion when it comes, nor his very sensible understanding of the position Amada was in as a newcomer to this strange, terrible place. Instead, he reacts to the most straightforward part of the message:]

sure
your place or somewhere else

[Shinjiro's not just going to assume he's welcome to drop by the man's place again even when he's been otherwise open to this conversation. At the same time, he's not going to insist on some neutral location either, if the man would prefer not to inconvenience himself any more than he already has.]

( timeframe: october event )

[strongroots]

[ The lights of a convenience store are flickering.

There's been more peculiar sights in the city, and a store with a shoddy lighting system wouldn't be anything unusual anywhere else. But the fact that it is happening here, where the state of every establishment is more eerie for how put together it is, could raise an eyebrow for anyone trying to pass by.

Who would want to investigate what's more than likely to be trouble? When, if watching it for too long, one might catch boxes being knocked off from their shelving, ears may hear the sound of someone yelling something, just before the entire building falls into darkness. None of the other buildings on the street are affected, and doors are wide open, and though the night outside may not be entirely dark, the interior seems oddly hard to make much out.

this is fine. ]

[aceslow]

That depends. If the kid wakes up and goes looking for you, is he going to be all right if you're as far as my place?

[ He had clung to Aragaki in a moment of weakness, or so it seems, someone he had previously known as dead. To wake up and find him missing - even with a note - may be... startling. But as of right now, that's his biggest concern. ]

You can leave a note, of course. If you think it'll be fine, then come here. If not, I'll come to you.

onto action?

[petsthedog]

[Shit. He hadn't thought of that. Would Amada be alright, if he woke up in the middle of the night and found himself alone? Shinjiro's instinct is, of course, he's a tough kid. Volunteered to be part of SEES and everything. The idea of giving someone else an accounting of his whereabouts, too, is discomforting; he'd prefer no one pay attention to or care about his existence to the extent that his absence for a few hours might be noticeable. But then, leaving the kid alone again feels like a shitty thing to do, when he has nobody better to take him. Watching Amada's back is the least he owes him, as far as not being in the ground goes.

There's a long stretch of silence, probably a good five minutes or more of internal debate, before the next response.]

i'll leave him a note

[...It's selfish of him, he knows it. But he can't bear the risk of Amada waking up and actually overhearing them talking. What's one more shitty thing on his conscience, on top of everything else?]

be there in ten

[aceslow]

[ Kim has not been immune to the aftereffects of the party, the numerous ways that the City somehow pried its way into their very brains, manipulating their thoughts and emotions to their liking. He's spent the past few hours fluctuating between the unstoppable urge to run to the university, spotting white-clad researchers out of the corner of his eye, and nursing waves of paranoia settling on his shoulders. But he's managed to compose himself, at least for the time being; he'd taken some time to sit down, breathe deeply, remind himself of his position as Lieutenant of the RCM. He's better than this.

With that in mind, he finds the nearest convenience store, hoping for a cold bottle of water and something to eat to settle his nerves, only to find -- something happening. He hesitates outside of it momentarily before shrugging, deciding that investigating this is at least better than going to that damned party. He unhooks the prybar he keeps on him at all times these days and grips it as he steps through the sliding doors, keeping to the periphery of the store. In and out, he tells himself. It takes some willpower not to reflexively yell: this is the RCM, state your business!

With things as they are, he doesn't announce himself, merely looking warily around for the source of the unrest. As stealthy as he intends to move through it, there's no disguising the whirr of the sliding doors, the thump of his boots against the sticky linoleum, the rustle of his nylon jacket. ]

action!!

[aceslow]

[ As the minutes draw by, Kim practically thinks that Shinji has lost his nerve, changed his mind, chosen to stew in the dreadful discomfort of the situation he's found himself in. Or had fallen asleep, body crashing after the thrum of adrenaline he must have been running on for so long. But eventually, Kim's communicator buzzes again, and Kim steels himself for the difficult conversation to come.

This, at least, Kim is at least halfway equipped to talk about. Not the loss, not the responsibility of bearing the weight of a child's well-being, not being plagued with the devastation of all this at Shinji's young age -- but guilt is an old bedfellow of Kim's. A stranger that dogs his steps, shadowing his step, a gentle lover that slips into bed with him and wraps him in its arms, a parent leaving a light on in the window and beckoning him home.

By the time Shinji arrives, Kim hasn't bothered changing out of his sleep clothes - grey sweats with the drawstring strung tight and a loose white shirt, hair stubbornly rumpled - but the familiar smell of coffee permeates the air. ]

Hello. Coffee's on, if you don't intend to sleep any more tonight.

[petsthedog]

[As Shinjiro makes his way over, he has the slow-dawning uncomfortable realization that this will be the third time Kitsuragi has invited him into his space to handle a difficult situation. The first had been fresh from arrival, when he was still healing from the gunshots and the man had wanted him to have a safe, clean place to rest for a few hours. The second, he'd wandered there in a daze, not even realizing where he was going until he'd landed at Kitsuragi's doorstep shaking and hyperventilating.

Now here he is heading over there by choice to talk about his shit because he can't sleep. It's embarrassing. At the back of his mind he wonders if there's anything the man needs done around his place...maybe he can ask later. Seeing Kitsuragi with his sleep tousled hair and informal clothes is jarring in its own way, too, and he half-wonders if the man had been entirely honest about having already been awake when Shinjiro had contacted him, but he pushes the thought aside and nods at the man's greeting. ]

Thanks.

[He makes no move toward the table where they sat at before, though, simply lingering inside his threshold while he waits to be directed wherever Kitsuragi would prefer he goes.]

[aceslow]

Go on, sit down. I'll be right with you.

[ Kim locks the door behind Aragaki, gesturing for him to sit down at the table. Kim's place looks nearly as sparse as it did last time, if Aragaki has the presence of mind to look around; there is a crossword puzzle half filled out in pen on the table, the book folded over on itself, traces of a tv dinner cardboard shell neatly folded and tucked in the recycling as though recycling means anything in this place, a pair of dark blue weights inobtrusively placed in a corner. Kim sets two mugs of coffee down on the table between them, dehydrated milk powder and a small bowl of sugar already waiting for them.

Kim tries to take his coffee black for the most part, but for this conversation, he allows himself a spoonful of sugar as he looks Aragaki over. He looks just about as tired as Kim would expect him to look.

For all that Kim's appearance is uncharacteristically disheveled, the way he sits perched on the edge of his chair, spine straight and expression stoic, creates the illusion that he may well be in uniform. ]

So. Things here have become even more complicated than they already were, hm?

[strongroots]

[ There's some fortune--can it be called fortune?--that when Kim enters the store, those once flickering lights behave for him: they stay lit above head, their hum mingling with the noise of a radio in play of some distorted tune for the proper store experience. Yet what hasn't normalised is the state inside, the farthest aisle scattered of its products of snack bars and cereals, mints and other miscellaneous items most likely to be found close to the counter.

Because if Kim follows the mess, the counter isn't too far. A look down the side leading away from the counter and the mess, and there's no evidence of anyone moving through; but keeping his eyes down the other aisle, a larger part of the knocked stock can be seen. A more careful eye over the very edge of the most affected shelf, a torn scrap of fabric has caught on it, a red chequered pattern lightly discernible, usual for a shirt, if Kim's seen enough of the style to recognise it, or at least guess.

Except, there's nobody visible down the aisles. And on the walk through, none of the aisles would have revealed anyone. They could be around the corners, whoever (or if there's anyone) might be present, though there might be one area a detective would think to look if all signs lead to someone passing through a specific place.

...over the counter, where there will be one Robby Keene in a red-chequered shirt trying to get to the farthest left side of the counter, as if aware he might've given himself away to some kind of company by the mess left on the other side. Moving quietly, not even looking for anyone before he might be found--

though he will stop if he is found, and that's made obvious in any way. ]

[petsthedog]

[He finds himself feeling a lot more aware of the space than he did before, perhaps because he was simply too out of it to be self-conscious either previous time. Now, every little thing he's intruding upon, such as the unfinished crossword, stands out in sharp relief.

The coffee makes for a great distraction, though; he's not quite so much of a tough guy that he needs to pretend to like coffee black on a good day, and the idea of pretense tonight is especially exhausting. He does up the coffee to his own taste before he looks up, taking a sip to buy him a moment before speaking.]

You can say that again.

[A small sigh. He stares back down at the mug after a moment, feeling a little too exposed and vulnerable to hold the older man's gaze.]

I heard this kind of thing could happen, but I never actually expected it would.

[He's been here five months already with no sign of anyone he knew, from SEES or otherwise. Most seemed to have their fellows from their world with them upon arrival or shortly thereafter. It's weird.]

[aceslow]

What, people from home arriving? I suppose that must have come as a surprise.

[ It's something Kim has been preparing for himself, even if a larger part of him doubts that he'll ever see anyone again. It was difficult not to think of it, after everything that happened in the shopping mall. To prepare for criminals he had long since handed over to the MoralIntern, the bereaved families he never cared for just right, Eyes -- hell, even his parents. Who knows? Nothing here is an impossibility.

But Aragaki must not have even wanted to dwell on such a painful thought. Too bad. What you want, what you deserve, and what you get are most frequently three disparate concepts. ]

But we deal with what comes to us. I never expected to be here either. [ He rubs his thumb - bare, absent of the gloves he's almost always wearing - against the rim of his cup, radiating heat. ] I suppose the question is now... what is your priority, now that he is here? Will you try to get him to live somewhere safe away from you? Or will he stay with you?

[petsthedog]

...More like, people showin' up from after I died.

[It's a little pathetic, maybe, that he would've had an easier time if Amada came from a time when he still wanted revenge, but instead he no longer really knows where he stands in the kid's life -- they're now tied together mostly by a sense of mutual obligation and guilt rather than any true camaraderie.

He rubs at his neck somewhat uncomfortably as Kitsuragi shifts toward the practicalities, though. That is ultimately the crux of his current crisis, after all.]

I mean...s'like I said, I ain't about to tell him he can't stay with me. When I ran into him, I told 'im if he never wanted to see my face again, to say the word and I'd disappear.

[There's a long, hesitating moment where he considers confessing the favor he'd been prepared to ask, if Amada had taken him up on that offer, but ultimately thinks better of it. Better he doesn't saddle Kitsuragi explicitly with the notion that he has nobody else. He shakes his head with a sigh.]

But he didn't, so. Here we are.

[Of course, if it were as simple as that, he wouldn't have been trying to get advice at 3 am, but he's not sure how to grapple with his complicated feelings or even how to define them. He keeps staring into his coffee, as though the liquid might hold some great answers for him along with his reflection.]

It's not...the living together part that's the weirdest. We shared a dorm for about a month before I died. If we were just stayin' together temporarily for convenience again, that'd be different, y'know?

[It wouldn't be so terrifyingly close to forgiveness.]

[aceslow]

[ Kim continues prowling through the aisles. It is not a reassuring sight; Kim is used to being the aggressor in situations like these, the skid and squeak of his boots signaling a relentless foe, projecting confidence as his shadowed silhouette drifts through the store. Once he makes his way towards the counter, however, it's easier to see the truth of him, if Robby is still capable: a small man, despite the weight of his footsteps, brow wrinkled in concern, the thick lenses of his glasses glinting with the sparse light coming off of the freezers that line the walls. Kim's fine brows rocket upwards as he catches a glimpse of the young boy hiding behind there, every inch of him reeking of fear and desperation. ]

...Robby? Is that you? [ He says incredulously, peering over the counter. It's me -- it's Mr. Kitsuragi. [ As though there's anyone else out there with his distinct voice. ] What's going on? Are you all right?

[ What are you running from? ]