bakerstreet | Love on an Adventure

Love on an Adventure

LOVE ON AN ADVENTURE meme

Lucky you. For a while, you get to eschew a normal life and see life past your door; you're going on a quest! It could be for personal reasons, for fun, for profit, or to save the world as you know it. In all likelihood, it's the latter, given the natural order of things, but hopefully it's not. Whatever the case may be, you won't be going it alone, however. Whether it's just you and a partner or a true fellowship, you've got people to back you up. You may not all start out as the best of friends, that's true - still, the fires of potential life or death scenarios or the threat of losing your booty draw you closer together, and a friendship forms.

With one member of your party, more than friendship grows between you.

But wait, you have to defeat the dark lord, find the oldest wand, fight evil by moonlight, create a giant robot, or any other number of tasks. There's no time for this sort of nonsense! Actually, you may push them away because of the mission or due to past wounds that tie into said mission. Maybe, though, you can steal moments to get closer, let a romance blossom...or more.

HOW to PLAY

Comment with your character, preferences, and any other info - ie, keep it PG, etc.
Even though I used a fantasy picture, don't feel constrained! In Harry Potter, they have to find a wand, in Supernatural, the Colt, in Avatar, they have to fight the Fire Lord, etc.
Feel free to AU your character or include information about them.
Reply to others.

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[Business expense. The food looks good, he admits, as does the drink. He takes a drink from the glass cautiously, he's not a fan of sweet things, but finds it's actually really well balanced.]

I saw them, but I heard some rumors so I wasn't so sure. I'm Hisoka. [He doesn't offer out his hand, but he uses the food as an excuse for it. It's really not personal this time.]

Why a tear? Isn't that usually for more depressing things than Rib?

Tears aren't always that of sorrow, you know. Also, it makes a convenient letter J.

[After all, the J of Dry Juice is a teardrop. He resists the urge, however, to touch the front of his bandaged throat, where the more elaborate tattoo of his team used to sit.]

But you can cry from joy. And from the end of one thing, there can be new beginnings. Dry Juice is a family for those who had nothing. Or seek a place to belong.

That's what I felt when I started this team - and how I still feel now.

And families don't always have happy times. Sometimes times are sad. But we're here for each other, and we get through it, stronger than we were the day before.

That's why.

[Mizuki feels very strongly for this. He's still here because of his family. His love for them and their love for him has carried him through one of the darkest times in his whole life. And he'll not give that up for anyone or anything.]

[...This really wasn't a guy who was close to death, was it? He was also delusional about things, but that wasn't Hisoka's place to correct.

But it sounded like a lot of people around here knew families could sometimes be the worst thing in each other's lives. That was why they had left and come here, wasn't it? That would have to be his story too, his cover.]

Yeah? [Maybe his age would work out for him here.] Your family... Does it take anybody? Or do they have to prove their Rib skills first?

Yeah. We have people from all walks of life - from the good and the bad.

I grew up not knowing my real parents, and ostracized from my peers. I had to carve out my place in life. So... I see Dry Juice as a place where there's always an open chair. An open ear. Open eyes.

Well. My old habits die hard. It's not easy to be more open when you've been guarded all your life.

[Smiling sheepishly, Mizuki draws up a chair in order to sit down across from Hisoka. His gloved hands lightly clasp together.]

Joining Dry Juice isn't hard. You just have to have the want to be here. That's all. Normally, people take on the tag art on part of their bodies, but not everyone likes it, or they're allergic to the ink. And that's fine, too. Tradition is a guideline, not an anchor.

And not everyone likes to fight. Some hate it. It may be arrogant to say, but my name alone, let alone my tag art, carries a lot of weight here. Those who join are protected from harm from other teams. Aside from a few, the untattooed "no marks" tend to be preyed upon around here.

Regardless, Dry Juice is still the largest Rib team on the island. One of the strongest. And it would be nothing without everyone else in it. I may lead, but... that's all I do. I'm often told that they follow me because they want to.

[Coughing slightly, a faint flush of pink crosses his cheeks.]

Sorry. I'm sorry if that was a bit too.. much. Peach... preachy! Preachy. It probably sounds really weird. Too good to be true. And that's fine, too.

[Hisoka listens patiently, eating his food and working on his drink.

Didn't have to fight, anyone could join, didn't have to get a tattoo. Those things were good. A tattoo would just heal on his skin which would give him away rather quickly. He also had his own style of fighting, could do magic, but he couldn't really fight well in the traditional sense. His body had stopped aging at 16 and had been very sickly from 13 to 16, which hadn't allowed for a lot of muscle development.]

That's all? If we don't have anyone else, we can join your team, even without fighting? [Some of his skepticism was real. He knew this place had almost fell apart after all. The guy had trusted someone he shouldn't have.]

Yeah. There are ways that people can help each other without fighting. Like with words.

[Thinking of something, he focuses on Hisoka with a thoughtful, but firm look. He remembers, in an instant, how painful it had been when he realized that his mind was breaking. When he couldn't stop it. How hopeless he'd felt.

[Sometimes, he still doesn't have hope that he'll piece himself back together again. But... if Hisoka is thinking about joining, he knows he'll never let Hisoka feel that kind of undue, cruel hardship. He'll never let anyone be hurt like that ever, ever again.]

I will admit now, that there was a time in which I was weak. I gave in to my fear that everyone would leave me behind for Rhyme. I gave in, and the whole Oval Tower thing started happening around then, too. I wasn't a good leader then - so many got hurt because of my fear.

[But none of them had died, because Toue's influence had worn off without the "bomb" activating in their heads. Mizuki's luck had been miraculous by comparison.]

But I can promise with absolute certainty that I will never, ever allow that to happen again.

[He really does hope he's not expected to help people with words, either. That really wasn't one of Hisoka's specialties; ironically, considering his abilities, but maybe that made it even more expected.

As Mizuki goes through that thought process, Hisoka can feel it. His hand grips the cup more tightly as that same hopelessness washes over him, adding with the other emotions from the crowd. Almost immediately he can feel a fatigue come over him.

He had to get out of here. He would begin to pull the money for the meal from his pocket.]

Sorry, I know this is sudden. [So many damn emotions.] Is there some place I can talk to you? Alone?

...Eh? Yeah. Is upstairs fine? I mean, it's my apartment, but it's quiet.

[He notices the money, a little surprised since there aren't many places that deal with physical currency, and many people prefer to use their coils that are attached to their bank accounts, but he accepts it, and deals out the change for it. It's rude to assume he's getting a tip.

[He then looks up a bit, and gestures at another man in the room.]

Hey Matsushita, man the bar for me for a bit, okay?

"Sure!"

[With that, Mizuki picks up his allmate and sets him on his shoulder. The artificial ermine wriggles a bit to maintain balance, and then settles down with his tail wrapped behind Mizuki's neck.]

[That would require banks accounts. It's much easier for the Shinigami to use cash when possible. Though, despite his demeanor, Hisoka really does have a polite side and leaves a tip without thinking.

He's all too happy to follow the man upstairs, away from the crowds below. He can feel all of the emotions easing away as they get further away, a burden lifting from his shoulders.]

Sorry to take you away from work. [He wouldn't say anything yet, not until they were inside. His fake story would be close to his real story, which meant he held a bit of shame behind it.]

No, don't be. If it's important, it's more important than something I can ask someone else to do in my stead.

'Besides, Mizuki is overdue for a break, anyway.' [The ermine's mouth doesn't move, and its voice has a tinny quality to it, but it's also low and masculine.]

Ah, don't mind him.

[With that, Mizuki gently touches the ermine's head, and those dark eyes close with a soft, similarly tinny sound as the allmate goes into sleep mode.]

There, sleep mode. He can't hear a thing, either.

[Before long at all, they are in Mizuki's apartment above Black Needle. It is fairly clean and tidy, with the odd pencil and sketchbook laying about on a table or counter. Mizuki leads them into the kitchen, but stands closer towards the wall to allow Hisoka the ability to leave easily without feeling boxed in.

[Briefly, he has to remind himself that he isn't enclosed anywhere, isn't trapped anywhere - isn't trapped in his own body unable to--- - before any feelings of panic could take root again. He takes in a soft breath, to calm himself further, and absently pets Fuzzy's soft white fur with his fingertips to further ground himself.]

[But Hisoka feels it all. It's a lot easier to handle now that he doesn't have to feel things from everyone else and it's not as strong as if they were touching. Still, it's enough for him to get a read. He was playing strong but in truth, he was terrified.

...That kind of reminded him of a certain other Shinigami. Only, less with of the idiot part thrown in.

Still, with the similarities he can't help but wonder if that means their ultimate ends would be the same. Was Mizuki depressed enough to end up taking his own life? Was that why there was so much confusion around his life span.]

I want to join Dry Juice. [He had to get close to him to keep an eye somehow.] I know this is something I could have said downstairs, but I don't do well with crowds.

[Hisoka's words surprise him a little - but only because of how private the setting is. He smiles, and pets Fuzzy's fur a little more slowly - not that Fuzzy was awake to appreciate it.]

It's alright. Welcome. Many others in the family will want to get to know you, but you don't have to tell them anything if you don't want to. We're here to support each other, even if that means just being a quiet pillar.

[Realizing something important, Mizuki blanches a little, worried.]

Ah. Please be aware that Ribsteez is considered a sort of gang war, so the police may attempt to raid if we're in the middle of a fight. Thankfully, the cops rarely bother to practice their skills, so their aim is really bad. Just... beware Akushima. You'll know him when you hear him.

But if you ever see anyone wearing kimono - they're Benishigure. They're allies, lead by Koujaku. They'll help you too if you ask them. Koujaku wears a red kimono, has a sword, and he has a sparrow allmate named Beni. He's a bit abrasive, though.

[Reaching a hand out towards Hisoka, he stops himself short of touching him, and withdraws his hand.]

...Ah, sorry, I had an impulse to ruffle your hair.

[Sheepish. Hisoka looks like someone he wants to protect. And... honestly, their eyes are a very similar green color. He can only hope that whatever has drawn Hisoka to him, that he can help with. Somehow. In a way, it's sad, he feels. Sad that people with such tough times look to a gang for support. That they don't get the support they need from their family.

[But there's strength in choosing your family, too.]

If we ever don't fulfill the needs you require, you are always free to leave. By the same token, you're free to return.

[He didn't plan to be in the middle of fights but even if he were, even if he were shot, he would be fine. You couldn't kill the dead, after all, even if the bullet would hurt.

No, more than the bullet, he was afraid of that hand reaching for him. Hisoka really didn't want to feel the other's emotions any stronger than he already was. There was real fear there, real trauma. He can't help himself, the way he backs up when the hand approaches.

And then it stops short, and he internally curses himself for the gesture. If he had waited, it wouldn't have happened.

He looks away, not acknowledging the movement from himself.]

That's all there is? I'm in?

[Seeing someone back away so suddenly hurts, and even in the physical sense. Whatever was done to Hisoka in the past, he can't help but feel for him. He already knows now not to reach out for him unless it's an absolute necessity. That only worsens the hurt, but it's not his call to make.

[He forces a reassuring smile, not wanting Hisoka to think that his feelings were hurt by something that was Mizuki's own fault to instigate without permission. He's usually better about reading other people, rather than letting his own selfish impulses get the better of him. ]

Yeah. That's it. If you have any further questions, you can ask me, or anyone else.

[It really wasn't personal, but Mizuki couldn't know that. As an empath, Hiroka was in tune with emotions regardless of touch, but when there was physical connection, he felt it as strongly as the host did. Combined with his own, it was too much. So, it was best not to touch.

He's still looking away, aware that such an action caused assumptions to be made in other minds, but he had no other excuse for it. He couldn't come out and admit his ability. Usually, that only made it worse.]

I do have more questions. You said something about an Oval tower. What did you mean?

...Ah, right, unless you're from this island, you wouldn't really know except through the TV.

[Gesturing for Hisoka to sit, Mizuki draws a chair up from his small dining table and sits down, setting Fuzzy down on his lap in order to reactivate and continue to pet him.]

Oval Tower is what used to stand in the middle of the pleasure center, Platinum Jail. Platinum Jail was created by a man named Toue. He was using it to create methods to control the minds of those on this island. It was later toppled from the inside by various means. Mostly explosives. As far as anyone could tell, there was only one casualty: Toue himself.

This is just what I heard from my friends, because I was in a coma caused by these mind-control methods. I didn't wake up until a few months ago, so you'd have to ask them for first-hand knowledge.

But, from what they told me, and from what I experienced, Toue was using flashing, colored lights, images, modulated voices and music, and... even tattoos, to sway the mind. Anything that the human body could perceive was used.

[Forcibly, Mizuki tries to shut out his own memories. Of being forced to take Morphine's tag art on his neck. He was another experiment, is what it all boiled down to.]

...Anyway, it's really strange, and kind of unbelievable, and some details aren't mine to tell.

[...He's getting chills just remembering the singing. He was different. He could hear the music and remember it because his mind had taken a bit longer to bend than most.]

Edited 2015-10-15 08:38 (UTC)

[In reality, Hisoka knows. He knows what Mizuki has been through, why he had almost passed over, why he hadn't, why he almost had, and both and forth. It had been a long, tiring process for him and still, his name was so unsure on the books.

But, this Hisoka shouldn't know. So, if he didn't get an explanation and something slipped later, it would only look weird. Now, he didn't have to pretend to be in the dark.]

I'm sorry. Looking at you, I wouldn't have known. [Which was true enough. He could tell by feeling his energy, but that wasn't the same thing, not really.

...Being around this guy was going to be tiring. Did these triggers come out normally, or was it because he was actively asking.]

It's fine. I just thought it was pertinent for you to know, since it's fairly common knowledge in the residential district.

[The smile he flashes Hisoka is a little tired.]

I'm here, I'm alive, and I'm relatively in one piece. It's more than I could have asked for in the same situation.

I still have a lot of work to do to try and fix the broken pieces... but I know I can do it.

[For his own sake, he strongly believes that. Even if it won't ever be perfect again, he has to at least try to return to normal in all aspects.]

[You're talking to a Shinigami; are you really so sure of your state? Would knowing that change how you felt?

That was why they had to be undercover. Even knowing they were being visited by a Shinigami would be enough to make some people do crazy things. People like Mizuki was most at risk.]

Maybe I can help. [Probably not, but while he was here, that would be his role. Until they had determined something about what was going on around there, he had to play it. Besides, he doesn't wish the other guy ill.

No, maybe he reminded him enough of someone to wish him well.]

That's what Rib gangs do, right? You said they were family.

[For that, Mizuki looks at Hisoka in shock, his every thought grinding to a halt. Hisoka.. helping him? He doesn't want to trouble him - Hisoka is (visibly) younger than him. It's not his job to try to help a grown-ass man with his mental troubles.

[Mizuki can't help but look torn at the mere suggestion, once it sinks in.]

We are family....

[He sighs and wonders how to convey what's ailing him still. What pieces are still broken at his feet, that cut him when he tries to fix what's wrong.]

I still have some psychological trouble and trauma. I have nightmares, still, of what was done to me. And from being comatose and having to rebuild my own mind from the inside without help.

I have irrational fears that I didn't have before, and sometimes my body doesn't do what it's supposed to. There's a disconnect between what I feel and what my body, well, doesn't do.

[He frowns somewhat, and he's careful to use the most gentle tone he has, so that Hisoka, hopefully, doesn't take his words as an insult.]

But, surely you have your own troubles, your own demons. It's not your job to try to fix mine.

[Smiles were a strange thing for Hisoka. They were the most told lie, the most common mask people used. It wasn't effective against him, not when he could feel what was beneath, but still they smiled. Sometimes, it wasn't with bad intentions, but he wished they would just be honest instead.

Revenge isn't an option for Mizuki. The guy who broke his brain was supposedly a friend it seemed. Hisoka was hunting his own boogeyman down, but the other man had forgiven his. It had been an accident, it seems.

That was fair. Sometimes good people did bad things.]

My own demons are in the past. [A lie; he was living, breathing, probably murdering right that second.] If you want to be my family, don't underestimate me. I'm stronger than I look; you shouldn't judge everything by age.

[Even though Aoba had accidentally triggered the reaction, it wasn't Aoba's fault that the reaction was planted there to begin with. So, all of the blame was on Toue for that. And... for the tattooist that he had so admired.]

It's... it's not that. Entirely. Some of my problem... isn't for a minor's ears.

--Ugh, what am I saying.

[No way in hell is he going to say a peep further about his erectile dysfunction. It wasn't a problem with the plumbing, either. Or even hormones.]

...It's hard enough just saying that much.

[Frowning a little, Mizuki sighs and scrubs his face.]

What a fine example I'm showing right now. I'm sorry.

[For looking and feeling so weak. What kind of leader am I. Hisoka's new - he shouldn't be exposed to all of this. It's not his problem, it's mine. Mine. I'd ask Aoba to try and fix me but he's too busy with Ren and...

[Frustration burns in him. He's not sure what to do with it, but it's no one's fault but his.]

[A minor. No matter how old he got, he would always look like a kid. It really was an annoyance. Tsuzuki was always taken seriously despite acting much younger than Hisoka himself did.

But it's a secondary annoyance most of the time.] I'm 18. Age really isn't important, you can't use it to judge somebody, but I am 18. Even if I look like this, it would be a mistake to treat me like a kid. The people who made me want to come here didn't, so you shouldn't either.

[That was true enough. Those at the office sent him on dangerous missions all the time, they knew his real age. Yes, admittedly, they still had the occasional poke, but overall, they trusted him to do his job.

Wow, the guy really felt like he had hit a brick wall, didn't he? The frustration was coming off of him in waves.]

I know how frustrating it can be, not having someone to turn to. Maybe someone new is what you needed for that; I didn't know you before, so my only judgment can be of the Mizuki that's in front of me.

...Ah.

[Chastised, Mizuki rubs his face again. He'd mistaken Hisoka for about seventeen, and eighteen wasn't much different, but still, the age of majority was twenty these days. It's the number AND the age difference of nearly ten years.]

It's not... that you're a kid. But I mean...

I'm sorry.

[Still frustrated, the feeling abates slightly in lieu of defeat.]

I'm not used to letting anyone in this close. I feel like a good chunk of me just wants to sabotage it. I've been like this even before my mind was shattered. Ever since I was ten or so, not trusting anyone with my troubles has been my normal.

It feels uncomfortable to bring them to light.

[Sadly, he would have been happy to have been mistaken for 17 instead of the 16 year old he had died as. It was a year older!

In truth, he was older, but no one would believe he was in his twenties; 18 was usually the best he could get by with and even that was normally called out.

So, he did the best he could do.]

I'm good at reading people. [That was an understatement; he was as aware of what Mizuki was feeling as Mizuki was. That frustration, that doubt, all of it poured into him. He could handle it around one person with limited physical contact and then, it was a useful skill.]

You're talking easily to me. [And mostly with honest feelings.] That must mean a part of you trusts me. If you don't sabotage it, then maybe I can be of more help to you than you know.

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