(no subject)

[reformedsinner]

Who: Cho Hakkai and you
Where: Around the Far Shore; at the Tokyo Marathon
When: Feb 15 - 25
What: Naming a new shinki, attempting graphic design, grounding a wayward shinki, considering White Day gifts, helping runners out with a small ayakashi problem.
Warnings: Shinki naming thread may include reference to violence & death.

Closed - Joscelin

[Sometimes, it's been quite a while between Ayumu's disappearances and reappearances. Hakkai hasn't wholly abandoned hope. And yet...

... yet, it's not easy taking care of a prickly young shinki who he hasn't named. Joscelin has been fitting into the household well: he gets along with Chikusa and Ken, he hasn't tried to murder any of Amaterasu's shinki since his ablution, and he's looking tired, lately.

If he's going to be a part of the household, then Hakkai is going to have to take care of him properly. It's time to broach that subject, and so, tonight, he's pulled Joscelin aside into the front room after dinner.]

You've been spending a lot of time here lately. I thought it might be time to make an offer.

[He gestures to one of the couches, settles down in the armchair himself, and crosses his legs.]

Would you like a name?


Li Tieguai's Temple - Open

[Chikusa is grounded. Ken has been informed that it's Chikusa's responsibility to do all of their chores all week long, and that he isn't allowed to help. Hakkai, therefore, finds himself unusually free: although he could sit around inside and enjoy watching Chikusa dust the bookshelves in slow motion, that palls, and so he's easy to find during this week sitting out on the new wicker couch on his temple's front patio, either with a book or with a pair of knitting needles, a massive spool of soft white yarn, and a ... thing he's knitting.

It's not clear what the thing is. It's a strange shape and there are strange divots in it. It's possible, if it gets long enough, that it will become a scarf.

It's also possible that it will become an eldritch horror and eat the mastiff snoozing comfortably at Hakkai's feet.

For a man knitting an eldritch horror, he looks remarkably cheerful when he glances up to spot passersby.]

Good evening!

Abandoned Temple School - Open

[The shinki looking for interviewees, or just comments, for their new magazine edition are everywhere. Hakkai has already had to politely decline several interview offers: apparently Gods of Fortune are new and exciting. He's told them to go ask Chikusa, the new hafuri of a new God of Fortune.

Chikusa's going to hate it; Hakkai feels thoroughly self-justified. He's not over those awkward dates yet.

There is one thing he'd been happy to hear, though: the magazine is accepting advertisements, and, with his new income stream, he can take out a full-page ad for teachers and students at the school. It's not just the new gods and shinki who might find it useful, after all.

This is, in short, why he's sitting in the downstairs library at the abandoned temple, at a table strewn with tape, glue, bits of neatly cut paper and photographs, and a mock-up of the ad. There's at least five different fonts. The text is crowded in and far too detailed. He's put a photograph of the school itself behind some of the text, which is unreadable as a result.

He looks distressingly proud of his work.

Someone is going to have to stop him before this monstrosity goes to print.]

Tokyo Marathon - Open

[Hakkai hadn't meant to be at the marathon. He's doing his usual morning deliveries of medicine to his followers most in need; unfortunately, one of their apartment buildings turns out to be right next to the track. And therefore surrounded in a seething, cheering crowd. And almost totally inaccessible.

He's never been to that apartment before, and he doesn't trust his teleportation well enough to risk unknown destinations. Cradling his giant duffel bag carefully in his arms, he's making his way grimly through the crowd, throwing elbows wherever he needs to. A few bruised ribs will serve them right for not being fast enough to get out of his way.

When the crowd starts to open up, he thinks for a moment that it's because he's finally drawn enough attention to make them give way. Then he looks up.

A massive, waist-high frog, purple-gray, stares unblinkingly at him from three paces away.

"You smell good," it croaks, and licks its lipless mouth with a long, long tongue.

Hakkai turns to the nearest person, pressing his bag into their arms without even looking.]

Excuse me, can you hold this? It's heavy and fragile, please be careful.

[The frog leaps. Hakkai, expression freezing, dives out of the way.]

Comments

[dredefulchilde]

[Joscelin hadn’t been expecting this. He still doesn’t know his place in Hakkai’s temple, not really, though the god has been kindly letting him come or go as he pleases. It feels less official than his time as Ayumu’s nora, and he hadn’t really been hoping for a name. He’d be content without one, if not for something rather important:

He’s hungry. All the time. Going suddenly from two gods to one means he isn’t hunting as much as before. The hunger is different than normal human hunger; he feels it deep in his body, in his very cells, screaming for the life energy that food cannot provide.

He cautiously moves to the couch and looks over to Hakkai, a serious expression on his face that makes him look much older than his apparent years.]

Will you promise me you’ll use me to fight?

[reformedsinner]

[Hakkai looks up at him, expression distant and thoughtful. He doesn't fight ayakashi often-- he doesn't go out to find them, certainly. And yet.]

How often do you want to fight?

[Or should the word be, 'need'? Joscelin doesn't look as though it's a frivolous request.]

[dredefulchilde]

As much as I’m able. Or, I suppose, as much as you are willing.

[Joscelin is blunt, businesslike. There is very little of the child in his speech or mannerisms, and yet he can’t deny the surge of hope he feels. Finally. Nourishment. It’s not that Nari doesn’t use him or feed him—he does, rather often. But the constant hunger is a greedy thing and going from two gods to one has severely limited his ability to consume what he needs.]

I get so very hungry, you see. I am, however, able to confer some benefit to my wielder after I have had my fill. I can heal, boost energy—that sort of thing.

[reformedsinner]

Unless I need it for the fight, that shouldn't be necessary... but you feed on ayakashi you destroy, then?

[His frown is thoughtful.]

I regularly visit the Near Shore to answer prayers. Would you be willing to come with me in the mornings and slay whichever ayakashi we encounter?

[The offer is delivered in a casual tone; generally, he just gets out of the way, should he encounter an ayakashi on his deliveries. If there's some use that can come of destroying them, though, it would be worth the extra effort.]

suffering at home

[kokuyoyo]

[The good thing about Hakkai finally leaving him to his own devices instead of enjoying the view of Chikusa being forced to clean is that it let him take a quick break, which he immediately used to send a message he knows that wouldn't be approved of. Until he can get that to work for him, however... There are still chores he has to do, and he doesn't actually want to test Hakkai if they don't get done at all.]

[But it's the worst. It's literally the worst. Most of it is stuff that Chikusa can't even imagine needs to be done. Who cares about dust? Why does it matter if things are put back into order when they'll just get disorganized within the hour anyway? No one is even coming over anyway, so they don't have anything to prove!]

[Chikusa's energy is a precious resource that gets used up faster than a stunt motorcyclist burns through gas. It doesn't take long at all before the door to the patio slides open and there's Chikusa, more dead eyed than normal. Even getting him to do normal chores usually ends up with him wanting to just lay on the floor. His chores, and Ken's, and Hakkai's...]

...Can it just be one day...

[He can't do this for the entire week. He seriously fucking can't, Hakkai. Chikusa isn't sure he can even last through this day all on its own. All of this is getting in the way of all the other things he wants to do, too. He has to practice his spellwork, and organize the information he has... There's also the other stuff he's working on, like getting a handle on making music, or getting back to the story he's left in the dust for far too long. Maybe it's a good thing he busted out two chapters so quickly one after the other...]

[reformedsinner]

If you don't want to do this much work, then don't put me in that kind of situation next time.

[Hakkai still has livid owl-talon marks across his forehead and cheeks. His expression holds zero sympathy.

You can do fun things when you're done facing down your punishment, Chikusa.

In a week.]

[kokuyoyo]

[Alright, first of all- ]

It's not my fault you tried to fight a bird... [You know, like a dumb asshole.] The dates weren't bad, were they...

[He feels like he'd be in more trouble if they were bad, although that seems like a hard thing to envision when he's already pretty miserable with the state of things right now.]

Li Tieguai's Temple because I don't follow prompts!

[myblueskies]

[Hakkai might have noticed another tiny shinki around his temple as well. Romeo is hard at work helping Chikusa with all the cleaning that needs done! It's hard work but Romeo doesn't mind! It's better than Chikusa having to do it all alone!

It's technically in exchange for cooking lessons but really Romeo just likes helping!

Currently he is in the kitchen, stood on a chair, elbow deep in soapy water.]

Let’s say this is after Hakkai names Joss

[dredefulchilde]

Romeo, what in God’s name are you doing?

[Joscelin had come into the kitchen to steal food before dinner, and was not expecting to see his friend hard at work on the dishes.]

That’s Chikusa’s job. You’re not even one of Hakkai’s shinki.

[He peers at the other boy.]

Or has he named you too?

[myblueskies]

I'm helping him! He's got lots and lots to do!

[It's a lot of work indeed! Even for Romeo but especially for someone who gets tired all the time like Chikusa! After seeing just how much work Chikusa had to do Romeo is a little concerned that mister Hakkai is a scary boss, but he seems so nice...

It's another big confusing question.] No! I'm Elfnein's shinki! [What was Joss doing here anyways?]

Abandoned Temple School

[unlucky7]

I think the paparazzi are hanging outside the school.

[Ginia's message plays as she spots Hakkai, a wave accompanying her played words as she approaches. She's seen the shinki around Ebisu's temple too; Gods of Fortune are still Gods of Fortune after all. A few have also stopped her on her errands, though she's evaded them too.

She reaches the table and looks down at the project Hakkai's working on, blinking at the jumbled text mess.]

What's that?

[reformedsinner]

Ah, good morning, Ginia! [Hakkai looks up, breaking into a smile as he sets down the glue bottle.]

I'm planning on taking advantage of their presence later -- this is an ad I'm putting together for the magazine. What do you think?

[unlucky7]

[It's horrible, is what Ginia thinks, but she pretends to study the ad for a few seconds longer than she really needs to as she figures out an appropriate answer.]

It's a bit busy, truth be told. It's hard to pick out all the information at a glance and some of it is difficult to read given the font choice and size.

Temple

[subconmodo]

[He wasn't planning to linger near the temple. He has places to go today. Not necessarily people to see, but places to show Jeremy to make sure his newly arrived minion doesn't end up getting lost on the first errand he sends him off to.]

[That was, of course, before he laid eyes on the soft, yarny monstrosity forming between Hakkai's jabs. And Snatcher may not be a knitter, but he's reasonably sure that whatever it is probably shouldn't look like that.]

...Evening. [And since his curiosity is starting to get the best of him...] What exactly are you trying to make?

[reformedsinner]

This? It's going to be a sweater.

[How it's going to be a sweater is a great mystery. It might fit someone with three arms. Hakkai's needles pause as he looks up, and one stitch slides free to be lost in the fabric.]

What do you think?

[subconmodo]

[Snatcher looks... less than convinced. Much less.]

[He flashes a thumbs up]

Like you just learned how to knit this morning!

tokyo marathon

[creepface]

[ Rasu's here because he loves to run. Really loves it. No one on the human side of the shore can see him, since he's not only a god, but also a spirit, so they wouldn't be able to see him regardless, so it's gonna be a challenge trying not to run into anyone, but he wants to. Not that he's dressed for it, he's got his regular clothes on, looking properly pale and goth.

He was however, distracted by the weird frog. Oh damn. He has to set the bag on the ground after half a second though; he's weak. ]

I-I'm sorry, I'm tall but I'm n-not strong...! A-are you wearing perf-perfume? M-maybe we can j-just give it some of th-that and it'll be h-happy...!

[ He knows it won't but one can hope. ]

[reformedsinner]

No, I'm afraid that's not the problem!

[It's not his aftershave that the ayakashi is after; he rolls back up to his feet as the frog crashes into a passersby, who yelps as she falls backwards against other spectators. They seem to be starting an argument. Hakkai keeps his eyes on the ayakashi, which is struggling back up and looking from him to the other Far Shore man behind him.

Rasu, wasn't it? A god? Too bad.]

Ah, perhaps we should lure it away? I'm afraid it's going to cause trouble here.

[creepface]

Oh.

[ The downside to having Rasu as your sidekick is that this side can't kick ]

I, I can, l-lure? I'm g-good at running, what do you w-want me to do?

[ Freaking out but willing to help! ]

Abandoned temple school!

[goingbananas]

[ It might have taken him a while to get back to school when all’s said and done, but at least he got here eventually, right? His past studies had seemed like a far-off dream—much like his previous time here at the Far Shore—that coming back to something as mundane as school, and without poor Miyuki to go with him, was honestly kind of a drag.

But he likes to think he’s a semi-responsible shinki, so off he goes to school today, and down he goes into the library, intending to seek out something useful to read, before spotting a familiar back standing before some abomination of graphic design.

And seeing as there’s no one else here, Sanada figures that Hakkai wouldn’t mind if he breezily raises his voice: ]

Yo, Hakkai! What’re you doing down here, grading someone’s crappy art project?

[reformedsinner]

Actually, I was working on an advertisement...

[Hakkai turns, smile flicking into view as he considers Sanada.]

My, it's been a while. It's good to see you again.

[goingbananas]

It has, hasn’t it? Sorry I’ve been playing hooky for so long, but I’m back now, and here to cause you some trouble~

[ But an advertisement? That? Don’t mind if he approaches the table for a closer look, nodding appreciatively at just how bad it looks.

Even a guy like Hakkai can make a mess from time to time, huh? ]

2/21, at ca 3~4, cw mentions of brutal death

[smilingbullet]

[ There is a thud and a gasped out string of curses in various languages in the middle of the night. It’s technically almost morning for D2, but this is not how D2 usually wakes up. He doesn’t normally wake up so abruptly, with his heart pounding in his chest so hard, that he falls out of the bed he’s occupying. Startled, a cat scurries out of the room.

Nightmares are par for the course for D2 and he can deal with those without making any noise that might disturb anyone. Except for whatever current god he would have; he can’t stop his emotions from barreling straight at them at top speed, be it Riku, Grell, Forrest or, these days, Hibiki. But he usually wouldn’t cause a disturbance beyond that.

Tonight it’s not a normal nightmare, however. Getting several firearms blown up by bubbles and rendering him pretty much useless and feeling useless, while Professor Horner fanboys over new abilities beside him- Spotting that same guy with the bubbles and engaging in a battle all over the oil rig- Getting his gun hand blown off after he messed up by not messing up his shot- And getting blown up by those bubbles, bit by painful bit, ignoring the pain in favor of reaching for his gun with his other hand to shoot his opponent and yet being blown apart so badly that there was basically nothing left of him— None of that is familiar. Brutality is normal, in his nightmares. But all this is new, and the images, the impressions, and the physical pain is far too vivid for any normal dream.

It’s not like he’s not had dreams filled with fresh memories of pain before. He can remember shrapnel, he can remember bullets. Pain is not something he’s unfamiliar with. His tank top has twisted and shows more than one nasty scar, reminders of past injuries that he usually covers up.

But the fact that he just so clearly just remembered his own death is hardly something that is easy to be calm about in an instant, and the shock of the memory is constricting, the distant thought that shinki should not know how they died passing briefly but strongly enough to add worry to his shock. He’s remembered things before without it being any issue but this seems like it might be crossing the fine line between what might make an ayakashi out of a shinki.

The thought that he might have disturbed anyone with his fall and his cursing and his heavy, sharp breathing or with the startled cat has not yet crossed his mind. Instead he’s focused on trying to steady his breathing, trying to even it out to three seconds in, three seconds out, as he grasps his dog tags in one hand and bed sheets in the other. The metal digging into his palm is vaguely grounding. It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine, he didn’t force the memories they appeared on their own accord, so it should be okay. He already had guessed as much as he dared that he wouldn’t have had an easy death, this is just a confirmation to that guess, and it’ll be alright, he’ll be alright, it’s no worries. ]

[reformedsinner]

[Hakkai's used to being woken by the sound of someone else having a nightmare-- but, after so many months here, he's used to being woken more by the emotional backlash of their nightmare than by the sound.

He startles awake at the thump of D2 hitting the ground, the muffled, shocked swearing, and sits up in bed in a state of disorientation as he tries to sort the remnants of his own fading dream. Was it...?

He doesn't feel anything out of place. A moment later, the obvious occurs to him. D2, of course. The only houseguest whose nightmares he would not feel; Goku's in his own temple tonight.

Yawning, he gets out of bed and digs his house slippers out from under the edge of the comforter, heading for the bedroom that's been set aside for D2 and his cats.

The sound of harsh breathing from inside -- measured, careful, but harsh -- makes it clear he's guessed right. Lightly, he knocks his knuckles against the door frame.]

D2?

[smilingbullet]

[ His mind is moving back and forth between the present and the past. The images of the past are too clear to ignore or just overlook.

The knock, the sound of a voice calling his code name, is faint through the remnants of the memories and phantom pain left over from it, the ability user's voice, the sound of his own heartbeat and the blood rushing, pounding in his ears.

He's not sure where he is, just that he's not on that oil rig any more, and though he's disoriented regarding what's going on he should contact McPherson. He's dead-- he supposes- it doesn't sound wrong and it doesn't feel that strange or foreign a thought, but reporting back to command is an ingrained part in him. ]

I'm fi- I'm fine, [ he croaks out; his mind has not caught up with the part that he should use Japanese yet either, and the English moves over to German, which is a bit more quiet than the unconvincing assurance, further mutterings to himself as he tries to calm down properly through his forced controlled breaths. His ear piece is- where..? ] Mist, ich glaub mich knutscht ein Elch was zur Hölle.