thenearshore | Curiosity killed the... [open]

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Curiosity killed the... [open]

Who: Zhao Yunlan & OPEN
When: The second week of February
Where: Far Shore - the library, near Ebisu's temple, the Western District; Near Shore - the ruins of a burned-out department store
What: Exploring, unwisely.

Library

[Zhao Yunlan is becoming a regular sight at a corner table in the library; he's accumulating a stack of books, filling them with bookmarks, taking copious notes in a cheap black notebook, swearing at them and not putting them away again when he leaves.

Research! He hates it. He needs an assistant who will do it for him, but in the absence of that helpful whoever, he's stuck hitting the books himself. It's going to age him posthumously.

Hopefully, no one minds the fact that a largely useless pile of books keeps being renewed on the corner table, and filled with paper scrap bookmarks that have to be removed before they're put away.]

Ebisu's temple

[Since he's died young regardless, Zhao is seriously considering switching from lollipops to cigarettes. There's something enticing about the smell of burning tobacco, and, besides, importantly: smokers can take smoke breaks. As a non-smoker, he's having to find some other excuse to sneak outside and see the sun every once in a while during his workday.

His excuse today is picking flowers. He doesn't recognize the flowers sprouting from the grayish soil clinging to cracks in the temple's modern-looking concrete courtyard, but they're bright, colorful, and have a non-zero chance of brightening the day of the poor white-collar workers typing their fingers to the bone on either side of his temp desk. Fresh flowers, an important part of office feng shui: or something like that.

(He's considering bringing in a houseplant. Those also make great excuses to take a break.)

He nips off the stem of a bright red daisy-looking thing, considers it, and turns with a shameless grin. Whoops, there's somebody, has he been caught skiving off?]

Here! It goes with your eyes.

Western District

[It's late on the night of the 12th, and Zhao had been working his way back home to Bakugou's place after a long day doing accounting and a few drinks out afterwards, except, annoyingly, his stomach is killing him. All right, so he'd skipped breakfast, and lunch, and dinner, and: all right, the last time he ate something was yesterday when Bakugou'd made breakfast. But it's not like he ever gets more or less hungry no matter what he eats! He'd thought it was no big deal.

Apparently even dead men can get heartburn from strong liquor on an empty stomach, he reflects, and slumps down onto a comfortable rock at the edge of the road, indulging his solitude with a wince as he bends over and puts his head on his knees.

This is really embarrassing. He'll just give it a few minutes, and once he feels a bit better, he'll just drag himself back home to bed....]

Department Store

[Mysteries abound. These mysteries, though, don't look like they're going to be solved anytime soon. Zhao ducks under plastic disaster cleanup sheeting and looks around the dripping, ice-cold, smoke-blackened floor of the unlucky department store, and shakes his head. Any clues that might've once been here are long since gone. If the fire hadn't gotten them, the months of abandonment and subsequent investigation would've.

Maybe he can sneak in and pull the investigation files somehow. Shinki do tend to go unnoticed, so he's willing to bet he can shadow a cop into any police office he wants. Getting keys to get into their files might be a little trickier, of course....

Sighing, he turns to go, just in time to spot a pale, whitish, sheet-like thing that's not plastic lashing out towards his ankle across the debris-strewn concrete floor.

With a shout, he jumps back, landing in a puddle. Filthy water splashes everywhere, and the sheet rears up like it's been possessed by a cobra, striking out at him again. The edge of it brushes his hand as he scrambles out of the way, raising an instant, aching, purplish welt.

Well, fuck. He's just found his first ayakashi all on his own, he realizes, turns, and bolts for the stairs with a possessed sheet in hot pursuit.

This is making a lot of noise.

Hopefully someone's passing by.

Help?]

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[Bad news: someone does mind.]

[Debatable news: it's the ghost of a teenager who sometimes lurks between the shelves and probably does work there.]

[Definitely bad news: his solution to this affront to his senses is to drop a book on the back of Zhao's head. If there's any good news about any of this, it's that the book at least isn't that hard... but it is a thick bodice ripper, so.]

[Zhao can take that as he likes.]

Ow, what the fuck?!

[--is how he takes it. He swings around, hand on the back of his head, glaring. The book isn't as big or heavy as it could be, but it had been dropped, and that weird lurking teenager he's been seeing around is tall.

It'd gotten up to a pretty good speed.]

What was that for?

[If Chikusa fell apart at every person that glared at him- well he'd probably be living a different life. With a different personality. Possibly one that isn't inclined to so much shit, or hanging around with various shit-starters.]

[Right now, however, his current personality is that of a feral shit teen, and such an occupation in life comes with the bonus of not caring what sort of looks people give him. He meets Zhao's gaze squarely.]

Clean up.

No. I'm working.

[Fuck you, kid. The spread of variously bookmarked tomes around his elbows is currently in use and he doesn't plan to clean it up yet.

Also, he may be holding a brand-new grudge over having a book dropped on him. His head still hurts.]

And you were working the other day.

[And the books were still left in a horrible position. Chikusa narrows his eyes just a fraction.]

Clean. Up.

Uh huh. How about when I'm done.

[This is not so much a question, or an offer, as a flat statement. Get off his back, tall...

... beanie-wearing teenager with glasses....

Zhao's eyes narrow.]

You're not Chikusa, are you?

[The cheapest beanie that could be found, probably, with a fuzzball on top and various little cheap plastic balls scattered all over it. Don't question his hat choices, he won't murder you, simple.]

[Either way...]

You're #3.

[All his questions will be kept internal. If Chikusa wants to look like his head is wearing a shitty Christmas sweater, that's his choice.]

Number three to do what?

To be on the list of people for the blind dates that I am helping set up.

[Reaching up, he adjusts his glasses.]

Oh, that thing. Right. [He waves a hand.] Thanks for setting all that up.

It's not how I recognized you, though.

[Chikusa'd been pretty deadpan and camera avoidant, after all. Zhao grins toothily at him.]

Somebody told me you're the shinki magic expert around here.

Ah... [People actually talk about him that way. It's weird to connect with himself. He'd been sure that Minako's forced flashiness was what had done it... It's not like he regularly goes on the BBS anyway.]

[...Well, besides being anonymous. Don't worry about it.]

Who was it, then...

Kurosaki Shun.

[It's hard to tell whether that's a good reaction or a bad reaction. It's a deadpan reaction, that's for sure.

Boy, this kid has an unnerving blank stare.]

[A good deadpan blank stare that lasts for longer than a stare really should as Chikusa takes in that information.]

...Weird. [Shun is talking about him...] So?

So, how about we work out a deal?

I'll make sure to clean up after myself-- [he waves a hand at his table full of research materials] -- if you don't mind answering some of my questions about magic.

...That's uneven.

[A faint scoff can be heard under his breath. He wants to do less work, sure, but magic knowledge is valuable here. He's not going to throw it around so freely. He's not Kairi.]

What else do you want, then?

[Zhao shrugs.]

See, now, I figured since you were asking me to clean up around here, that's what you cared about. If you want something else, though, I can deal.

I can just threaten you for that.

[Chikusa no-]

But I want an actual service besides common sense... Or knowledge equal to what I'm giving out.

You say that like you think threatening me's gonna make me get in line. [He shrugs again, expansive.]

I'm pretty sure I can get the information somewhere else, so is that your price? Useful but not unique information?

I mean, it depends on what it is, doesn't it...? [There's a lot of options when it comes to threats, after all, it's kind of impressive.]

There's plenty of places you could get it, I guess. [One shoulder possibly moves, an almost kind of shrug.] Here in the library, some older shinki... but it would take a lot of time.

[A considering tilt of his head.]

...Which isn't guaranteed here.

No, not really. [Zhao lets the expansively chill attitude drop for a moment, making direct eye contact with the slumped teenager.]

Don't threaten me.

-- And yeah, so, useful but not unique. On the other hand, what kind of service are you looking for?

[If there's one thing that has never stopped Chikusa before, it's adults trying to be serious or intimidating at him. In his pocket, his fingers curl around one yoyo.]

Then don't give me reason to threaten you.

[It's as simple as that.]

Do you actually want it or not?

I already offered to put the books away. You're just threatening me because you want to at this point.

[He's back to the casually expansive shrug.]

I'd like to know. That's why I'm asking you what kind of service you want in return.

No, it's because you're annoying.

[Because that's a totally better reason, right... Chikusa doesn't seem to see a problem with it, anyway, which may or may not be part of the problem.]

You should already have been putting the books away... It's a garbage offer. What service can you offer?

You're easily annoyed.

[He shrugs.] Are you looking for help around the library? Errands run? Investment advice?

I don't do laundry or windows.

Easily annoying...

[And also a shame about not doing laundry because, honestly, Chikusa isn't above outsourcing the chores Hakkai gives him.]

...And investment advice.... really?

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