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@dogboy*

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open season.

OPEN SEASON

@dogboy
24 / m / straight / 2♠️*

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My Self-Summary

His name is Kirma and he’s illiterate. I’m helping him fill this out, but honestly speaking, it’s a complete waste. Besides that, don’t you think his rank is unfairly high? Even though it’s still in the single digits, it’s not as if he wouldn’t be at home in the basement levels. If someone could send my complaints along to the house, I’d appreciate it.

My Future Plans

Surviving?

My Talents

Chasing sticks. Eating absurd quantities of garbage. Fouling up perfectly nice beds. Trampling flowers.

Favorite Books, Movies, Music, and Food

Meat.

My Ideal Partner

Someone skilled at training dogs.

Height 169cm / ~5’7 Body Type fine Smokes apparently Drinks i think so Drugs maybe Sign ? Education laughable Occupation unemployed Income unpaid Children none? Pets he is one Hobbies cooking

art credit: one. two. three. four. five.

01. WINE OR BEER

BEER

.02 CLOWNS OR MIMES

“WHAT'S A MIME”

.03 SHOWER OR BATH

NEITHER

.04 PIRATES OR NINJAS

PIRATES? WHY ARE THERE SO MANY OF THESE

.05 TITS OR ASS

.06 COFFEE OR TEA

.07 SPICY OR SWEET

.08 SUMMER OR WINTER

.09 LEATHER OR LACE

10. ROUGH SEX OR GENTLE SEX

Personality Type
ISFP-A

ENERGY73%
introverted
MIND76%
observant
NATURE66%
feeling
TACTICS54%
prospecting
IDENTITY75%
assertive

personality test. art credit.

hover for rating.

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( The last thing Esikko remembers, he was sipping at his tea and entertaining himself at the market. Demanding Kirma buy him an assortment of tulips in a variety of colors, slowly feeling sleepier by the moment...

Until finally, there was nothing. They'd been sitting somewhere, and he was so comfortable, shockingly, that it happened. He's not usually able to fall asleep so easily, so it was like a dream come true.

But now, waking in this nicer bed, blinking blearily to find himself completely clothed and undisturbed other than being relocated, he can't help but feel... annoyed. )

Kirma?

( He stirs, shifting to push himself upright and squint across the room. There's got to be the sign of a fluffy tail or ears somewhere, and he's searching it out now, frowning and occasionally distracted by his own body. Clothed. Untouched.

What, is he not tempting? Is he not good enough? )

Did you carry me here and leave me?

( he knows when esi wakes even before he starts calling, yet he has half a mind not to come out. as it turns out, being someone's bodyguard/errand boy/bag holder/wallet quadruple threat combo is even worse when you're back in civilized society with them. the marriage joke has grown so incredibly old by now, it's on the verge of dying in its sleep.

but this is his lot in life, isn't it. reluctantly, begrudgingly, kirma emerges from the bathroom. he holds a hammer, happily loaned by a staff member— don't worry about it. don't worry about what he could possibly be doing in a bathroom with a hammer. just don't. )

Leave you to sleep? Yes.

( shouldn't esi be grateful he woke up in the nice room?? )

Can skip the carrying part next time. If you'd prefer.

( Hammer.........?

Okay, but he has to put a hold on that curiosity, because he's angry about something. His smile is strained as he pushes himself out of bed, tossing the sheets back over in a weak attempt at covering it. Shocking he does that much, but it's mostly so that it can be clear he's angry. )

That's not the problem.

( Hmm, it's a little sloppy, insinuating there's a problem at all, but he can't help it. The heart symbol that's appeared just below one of his red marks may be pale in color, but there's always been a little something tugging his emotions this way and that.

He folds his arms. )

And what are you doing that's so important, then?

( uhh. there's a lot here he doesn't like, and the question itself is the least of them. kirma glances down to the hammer in his hand, then at the bed, then at esi.

it's funny. usually he can somewhat guess at what he did "wrong," in esi's eyes. today, though, it escapes him entirely. what a mystery. )

Fixing something.

( didn't we say not to worry about it...

another side glance. seriously, what did he do? his ears fold back as he tries to puzzle it out. )

... If you want to go back, we can go. ( ??? throw him a bone here, please. it needn't even be a literal one. )

You already bought the tulips, didn't you? There's no reason to go back.

( Cold, snappy, and his eyes are avoiding Kirma an incredible amount here. The only reason he hasn't stormed out is the sussy way he's talking about fixing something. This room is practically his own, as far as Esi is concerned, for as much as he's going to be bothering Kirma to use it. So what's wrong? )

Forget it.

( His tone says he does not want it forgotten, but he's also not budging on the problem here, yet. Instead, he leans forward and to the side to try and look past Kirma and into the bathroom. )

( whoa. kirma catches him by the shoulder, holding him back with his formerly free hand. the last thing an angry wife needs to see is his husband's half-finished diy project; this has been a universal truth since the dawn of mankind. not even the sex casino can go against that. )

It's private.

( esi can think he has claim to this room all he wants, but at the end of the day, it ain't fucking his! kirma would never dream of actually saying as much, but the small huff that escapes him might give it away nonetheless. )

You're telling me you didn't want the books they had?

( is he just trying to get esi out of his room... maybe........... )

( That reaction...

It makes him even angrier. He breathes out in a combination of irritation and shock at being held back, but he's not about to get into a physical altercation. He knows who would win.

So he narrows his eyes, instead, hoping their sharpness carries across. )

...Do you have enough to buy those, too? ( This is so unfair. )

It's fine. You're obviously too busy with whatever it is that you're doing here, so I'll leave you to it. I'll find my tulips and go.

( He turns on his heel, then, his hair flipping along with it. He's going to do just that!

But he does toss a glance back after a few steps. Just to check. )

( and when esi turns back, this is what he sees: 🧍 )

Bag on the table. ( for the tulips, that is. kirma even helpfully points, hammer-first. isn't that nice.

he knows that wasn't the point of turning back, though; despite what some people might believe or say, he's no idiot. the issue, then, is that over the past few days he's felt ever-so-slightly less willing to indulge. in this moment, that feeling is holding true. he should be dropping everything to follow... and yet. )

Don't sulk. You'll be able to see it later.

( he just also knows you're not going to like it... 🥲 )

I'm not a child; I don't sulk.

( Later. Later? He's not concerned about later, he's concerned about now! The things he's missed out on! Experiences! And now knowledge!! He huffs so loud it can be heard from his spot next to the bag, but he's careful in how he picks up his precious flowers. The same can't be said for the way he throws the door open and then closed, one more comment signaling his leave: )

Later then.

( okay bye 🧍‍♂️ )

( call him an NPC guest the way he eats the food at roost without complaint. it goes above and beyond merely ordering it; half-eaten or, worse, rejected plates get a bit of hovering and pointed gazing until the plate is gently pushed in his direction. old habits die hard, after all. the point of a casino is to gamble, and kirma prefers to play things as safely as possible.

what manages to draw him away from this is a passing scent: one as medicinal as it is unpleasant. more importantly, it’s familiar— but the person he sees when he whips around to look is not.

...

well, maybe? while he’s not familiar with miss kuromine misa, he squints at her all the same, trying to determine the connection with what he does know. one ear twists to the side as he considers. it’d be too easy to ask something like, have we met, so he opts for the next best option: )

... Fleas?

( not really a question, but okay. good enough. )

[Even if Matoba had decided to attend the Roost as 'himself', the immediate recognition of the mutt sitting at the bar would have been an instant avoid. Of all the unpleasant, yet necessary experiences that he's had in this twisted ayakashi resort, that one might have been the least necessary of all. Truly, an embarrassment that he'd like to forget more than anything else, when he thinks back on it.]

[But, he ought to try and look on the bright side of things. There must be something gained from every experience- even if it is only an acquaintanceship, and the knowledge of how wary he should be of a new individual. This one, fortunately, hadn't impressed upon him a sense that he ought to be particularly wary. A misstep, clearly, because when he sees Kirma whip around to level a stare at him, recognition and confusion warring in his eyes, he wishes he had taken the proper precautions and just left as soon as he'd spotted him here.]

In a place like this, don't you think that is a given? [A response that must be cobbled up with all the well-honed bullshitting power Matoba can muster, Kirma's question catching the attention (derisive) of some of the Roost regulars that KuroMisa has been trying to talk up. Her eye drops to the nauseating plate of-- grubs?? in front of him. They might as well be.]

...Not that you seem to have much problem with it.

( results inconclusive. more investigation required. his ears flick, and he leans back against the bar, committing to this new direction he’s facing. one moldy peanut is still in his hand, and he cracks the shell between his fingers as he answers. )

It’s not as bad as it looks. Rather than foul, they’re more... what’s the word. Aged.

( it’s quite different, you know. he could honestly extoll the virtues of the ~~rotten~~ artisanal nut all day— ah, but he’s getting distracted. perhaps intentionally so? he cants his head towards the seat next to him— conveniently, for the sake of this thread, unoccupied. the wet ring on the bartop indicates it was not always so, even recently. don’t worry about that. )

But if you’re not interested in the food, I could buy you a drink.

[Actively suppressing the slide of disgust in his jaw, Matoba watches as the mutt casually deshells an actively decomposing peanut. The stale scent of the food from this bar could be picked up from across a room, but it was far worse when you came to the front. He preferred the stained, filthy couches for this reason.]

Aged, [She repeats, silkily. Her expression is restrained to an aloof, polite interest as she, in turn with his nod, regards the empty seat and his invitation. Her "companions", for lack of better term, are eying Kirma up all their own, like sizing him up for a fight- perhaps thinking that he was a rival trying to elbow in on their mark. A mark for the sort of business that went on in this bar, or a mark as a player of 52? Unclear.]

[But, they're going to be out of luck this time. After a long moment of considering the offer, she turns back to the group of "legitimate businessmen" and inclines her head apologetically. A little flirt, thrown in to soften the blow.] My apologies, gentlemen. Shall we continue our discussion later? Don't forget about me, now.

[She's a hot commodity, so she has room to make such demands. Slipping through their fingers like a minnow, she arranges her skirts as she slips into the stool next to Kirna, and then as an afterthought... scoots it a few inches further away from him...]

A drink, hm? What do you recommend? ['Toilet water?' Matoba just barely manages to restrain himself from adding.]

( so she accepted, but isn’t enthusiastic about it. this isn’t particularly surprising, nor is it a reaction he’s unused to. still, his eyebrows go up for the briefest of moments as she scoots the stool away. it’s... funny? cute, almost? the contrast between the immaturity of the gesture and the way she— no, wait, focus. )

I’ve heard good things about the whiskey.

( and not, in fact, the toilet water. turning back to face the bar, he motions to the barkeep. not long after, two glasses sit in front of them. kirma does not watch as the drinks are poured; his attention stays on his companion, studying her face, trying to place the familiarity. it’s something in the smile, he thinks. a coldness around the edges of her mouth.

orrrrr maybe he’s reading too much into it. either way, he’s going to eat this peanut about it. )

Since we’ve yet to be acquainted— ( a fact he is not actually convinced on. ) — why not a toast to new beginnings.

( the glasses are full now, after all. kirma picks his up, holding it towards her. clink clink bitch. )

The whiskey, hm? J-san's reserve. [The whiskey that reeked of something wrong. Not that any of the food in this bar was suitable to be eaten by a human, but Matoba had his suspicions about it all- about the peek under the illusion that the Roost provided, the glitzy gauze of the Golden Peacock peeled back. They say that you should never eat or drink of anything in an ayakashi realm, that the more you partake the more you too will be turned into a spirit. But there had been little choice in this place, given their inability to find an escape early on. By now, if it were to transform them....]

[Misa's eye, thinking all of this, rests on the amber liquid poured into glasses for them while Kirma watches her. His heavy gaze rolls off her veil, as if it were itself an impenetrable layer that protected her from further scrutiny. Oh, she feels it. Does this mutt already know? Likely. But he'll have to dig deeper than this to get anything from her.]

A toast... Why not? [Fingertips graze and then grasp the top of her glass, taking it into hand as she turns to face him- all to deliver a delicate, but firm clink to Kirma's glass. Catching and holding his stare as she does so, she takes the glass into the gloom of her veil and sips.]

[Not a flinch. He's had to taste worse.]

Kuromine Misa, a purveyor of certain goods. And what brings a gentleman like you to the Roost, if I may ask...?

( and where kuromisa manages to down the whiskey with elegance, kirma does the exact opposite. the strong taste is harsh on his throat compared to what he’s used to, and he coughs into his fist, ears flicking back and forth. eugh. what is wrong with white people. when he sets the glass down, he also pushes it ever so slightly away from him; he’ll stick to the peanuts after all.

the whole affair does distract him from his not-really-an investigation, though, and it takes an extra moment or two before he realizes it’s his turn to respond. right... )

If that’s how we’re speaking... guarding a certain person.

( it might be too obvious to directly turn and look towards the den, but one wolfy ear rotates to face it anyway. as far as why he’s out here eating garbage instead, if that’s his “job”— well, don’t worry about that. )

There’s something here you’re looking for? ( this one is a simple conclusion, from her words. doggy can add two and two, though he doesn’t actually know if that’s the entire equation. ) I didn’t think there was anything worth keeping in this place.

( and he doesn’t just mean in j’s domain, there. )

Oh? A bodyguard...

[Kuromisa's smile tilts with amusement as Kirma rejects the rest of his drink, and her eye follows the direction of his ear. Someone in the lounge....? She looks for a target in need of guarding, among all the Roost's ruffians.]

That could net you some fine chips, if you were to take on clientele. But something tells me that isn't quite your style. [She takes another (smaller,) bitter sip of whiskey.] It isn't mine, either.

As for my own business, I deal in... shall we say, "magical tools". And in this place, which contains a bevvy of magic, I hope to do quite a bit of business. Are you familiar with such things, sir?

It’s a charity case. ( one that predates the casino. there’s a hint of displeasure in his voice, describing the situation as such. pay no attention to the pink-haired twink losing every hand of poker behind the curtain, please. ) Besides, chips hardly count for much.

( such is the perspective of someone who’s just high enough of a rank to take it easy, of course. perhaps he’d feel differently if he, too, was in the basement— but even then, the poorest lodgings here still are indoors. there are worse places to be.

for instance: a haunted bar that serves dogshit whiskey. )

Blessings dilute the blood too much for magic. ( a statement that’s recited from memory, a teaching; not his own words, but ones heard often. whether it’s true... ) But I wouldn’t say I’m unfamiliar.

( not to say that he truly understands what she means by ‘tools,’ either. it’s just not his first time brushing up against an underground trade. )

[The pink-haired charity case in question certainly sticks out from the crowd, although unless Kirma indicates directly in his direction, Matoba is free to presume Esikko just another curious 52 player who has stumbled their way into Roost on account of J's invitation. That said....]

Don't they? Are you content with your stale peanuts and whiskey?

[Misa's smile cocks to one side as she takes another nursing sip of the terrible whiskey, for verisimilitude.] Living is all well and good, but unless you do not require sustenance of any kind, I doubt you will be able to survive on that alone. You ought to think about it.

[She sets down her glass; her fingertip returns to tracing the rim as she considers his reply. An interesting one, at that. Blessings diluting magic in the blood? That was just about the opposite of logic as Matoba knew it. Which meant that perhaps he could learn of some fascinating things from this mutt, after all?]

Is that right? I would be quite interested to hear your perspective of the matter. This bar-- [Her hand lifts to gesture around them] --is a place where one can learn a great many things, but magic is one topic that is not particularly popular around here.

Are you one who is able to sense such things?

Aged. ( the correction comes with a stern voice. try to keep up, ma’am. he doesn’t have it in him to argue the point further— they can only agree to disagree. this is the difference, with dogs; they do not seek ends to justify means, nor do they need to gain an advantage to agree to work. whether or not these are positive things— debatable, at best.

but he will think about it, as encouraged. another day, perhaps. for now, his concerns are more immediate, as the puzzle is slowly being pieced together on his end. there aren’t that many people with eyes covered here, after all, and even if the rest of the scent doesn’t match, that flea stuff… is also uncommon, he’s come to realize. for all the obvious signs, the part of him that’s suspicious is hard at war with the part of him that prefers to take people at face value, and thus has this been drawn out for so many tags.

oh, right. she asked a question. kirma frowns as he considers how to answer, ears flicking. how much is one supposed to explain things, speaking to someone clearly of another world? he’s still trying to process that there are other worlds at all. )

… I shouldn’t be.

( in other words: yes. )

But I wouldn’t think it to be a rare subject, what with…

( uhh. there’s a half-hearted wave of his hand, to indicate the everything here, how much it reeks of supernatural bullshit. as he trails off, he stares almost blankly at kuromisa, past her, if anything— and without warning, grabs the edge of her veil to flip it up and give himself an opening to lean in for a big ol’ sniff. )

( let’s set the scene, shall we. kirma still has yet to make any of the intended customizations to his suite; glitz and gold are the theme of the room, gaudy and liable to sear the eyes. housekeeping has made good on keeping things sparkling, mostly against his will. though he often leaves the do not disturb sign on the door, it has a habit of vanishing and reappearing in a drawer. infuriating— as most things are, here.

this does not mean the room is devoid of personal touch, however. the bathroom doorknob is replaced now, but is off-kilter, set at an angle surely different from the one it was manufactured with. half the bathtub sits in the open, directly facing the main door of the suite, balanced on top of a dragged-over end table to create a makeshift shrine. under the tub’s porcelain roof sits a dish full of chips, a small statuette of a peacock, and an empty incense holder; flowers from the garden surround the offering area, some more wilted than others. a small hammer and makeshift chisel can go a long way, in a place like this.

kirma himself is puttering around the kitchenette area, muttering to himself in a sour mood. one of the main reasons he’s so at odds with the cleaners is how they put things away— nothing like he would do himself— half the time they’re things that don’t even need to be stored, so why… the shuffling and rearranging preoccupy him so that he doesn’t notice esi’s entrance, at first, aided by the remote he has turned into a doorstop. spirits can’t visit a shrine they can’t get to, after all.

his ignorance doesn’t last long, as his ears twitch up at the sound of footsteps a little too close to be from the hall. kirma whirls around with a whisk in hand, as if to defend himself with it, but instantly relaxes at the sight of someone familiar. )

Since you have the hands to do so, can’t you knock next time?

( the door’s not open for you… he can’t actually be too mad, though, with the way his tail wags at the sight of his. uh. hmm. not friend, certainly not anything else ending in -friend, but not a mere acquaintance. ah, it doesn’t matter— he’s not going to waste his time mulling over words. )

I thought you found a different bathroom to use.

( It's funny, isn't it, how Kirma always manages to have some part of himself that must know what's coming without actually recognizing it. That hand remark, after all, feels so apt. The smile it brings to Esikko's face is a little unnerving, but it's not an unusual expression for him at all— especially in Kirma's presence. )

I did. I can't visit you?

( He sees that tail wagging, and so he moves closer, daring to drape his arms over Kirma's shoulders. It's an oddly affectionate move for him, especially as he hums close to one of his furry ears. His own are gone now, so it feels more safe to toy with them. )

I didn't realize you were up to something so private.

( ah. this is…

not unwelcome, but dubious, at best. his tail stops abruptly as he squints up at esi; the suspicion in the air hands heavier than his arms could ever hope to be, and for a moment, he wonders if he should’ve readied something more deadly than a whisk. it may already be too late now. though he has no real basis for the dread balling in the pit of his stomach, it doesn’t feel unwarranted, either.

but then, maybe he’s being unfair. maybe there’s nothing to worry about at all. )

You need something.

( it’s an observation, not a question. they’ve spent too much time together, he thinks, for something like this to work as smoothly as esi would like. at the same time— he dislikes that he can even know that in the first place. )

Oh, don't make it sound like I'm such a horrible person.

( Still, being called out means he can cut to the chase. His arms slide off of Kirma with purposeful slowness, and he turns, beginning to search through the drawers of Kirma's kitchen, glancing on countertops... )

I have an idea I'd like to try. As strong as sturdy as you are, I believe you're the most likely to handle it well between the two of us. You know, I've heard great things about the medical care of the facilities here.

( He pauses, turning to look over his shoulder at Kirma. )

Does that thing on your wrist bother you?

( Of course he's going to try cutting the watch itself first. But he doubts it'll work, and his back up plan requires some thought, you see? )

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@esikko — big cw for blood and dismemberment on the horizon

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