bakerstreet | WE'RE ROTTEN TO THE CORE

WE'RE ROTTEN TO THE CORE

THE VERY BEST AT BEING BAD MEME

You're tired of being a goody-two shoes. It's time to join the mob! That's right, time to join the world of organized crime. Whether you're mafioso, yakuza, triad, something entirely different - you're in for a treat. It doesn't matter what family you're in, what side you're on, what your end goals are, things are going to be wild, dirty, and violent all along the way. Maybe you survive, maybe you don't. Maybe people you care about don't. Maybe you need to get revenge. Whatever. The world is your oyster.

RANK/JOB

1. BIG BOSS It's you, the one everyone looks to. Everyone has to listen to your orders or they'll meet a swift end. Try not to be too cruel.
2. RIGHT HAND MAN You're the trusted second to the boss. Are you happy with your position? Do you want to take over the family? Do your best.
3. BODYGUARD Self explanatory. Keep your boss (or whoever they tell you to) from dying. Or getting arrested, probably. Do you need to kill someone? Better make it clean.
4. RANK AND FILE Any other position. Treasurer, gun runner, enforcer, whatever. Maybe if you're good, you'll move up the ranks.
5. CIVILIAN You're not in the mob, but maybe they're leaning on you for protection money. Or you're dating someone in the mob. Wow, that boss is cute. Maybe you're a doctor paid off by the mob under the table.
6. POLICE Whether you're a corrupt cop being paid off or someone that really wants to put them away or even a rookie trying to make their name with a big collar, we have you covered. Do what you want, we're not the cops--shit, wait, we ARE the cops.

SCENARIOS

1. JOB WELL DONE Everything went great on your last mission! It's time to celebrate, probably with lots of booze.
2. JOB GONE WRONG Don't tell the boss, but nothing went right. Simmons was shot, we lost the cargo, and we almost got collared. Actually, do tell the boss about the cargo so no one thinks you stole it.
3. BUSTED Hope you enjoy prison because you just got caught and you're probably going to prison for tax evasion.
4. PUT OUT A HIT The current mission is: kill someone that did the family wrong. Can you do that? Can you escape if a hit is put out on you? Why is this done on a buddy system, anyway?
5. DOWN TIME Look, even crime families have time off. Hanging out, pretending to do real paperwork, actually doing real paperwork, whatever it is, it's not outright action-packed villainy.
6. LET'S GET DANGEROUS Any big-time jobs lately? Arson, making a statement to another family? All-out war? Damn, you've been busy.
7. BLENDING IN Let no one say the mob are heartless! Are you throwing a big party to show off your charity for the little people? Giving money to local kids? Making people put dates on milk bottles?
8. OVERTHROW It's time for new boss, same as the old boss. Do you get them put in prison? Kill them? Do you manage to get away with it or are YOU the one getting sent up the river?
9. A DEATH IN THE FAMILY Someone important to all of you has died. Did your boss pass away? Was the second-in-command murdered? How's the funeral? Do you need to get revenge?
10. ON THE HUNT Stop right there, it's the fuzz! You've been hunting this big fish for years, and now you think you've finally got something to get them put away for good. Go get 'em, slugger!

As always, these are just suggestions. Make up anything you want, as long as you're having fun!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oi, Dazai.

[ To say Chuuya resents Dazai's promotion is a vast understatement. Not that they were ever really equals in their partnership to begin with, but now Dazai can pull rank on him and that is absolutely unacceptable. Utter bullshit. It also means that if he doesn't check on this stupid mackerel, he won't write is report and Chuuya's going to have file the paperwork for the both of them. Small perks of working in Yokohama's largest and most powerful crime ring.

Finally having found his partner, Chuuya stomps into the room and slams his heel on the desk Dazai's seated at, leering for emphasis. ]

Mori has another mission he wants us on in less than an hour, aren't you done with this shit yet!?

[ The rank of Executive opens the doors for grander goals, the expansion of his control over the organization's machinations and the kind of income that's only spent appropriately when it's burned away on the most outlandish expenditures. But above all else it demands the kind of wholehearted responsibility that leaves a man devoted to his job.

In fact, the instant Chuuya charges into his office ( aka: a corner of his room that supports an unassuming desk that's yet to be swallowed up within his untidy clutter ) Dazai's mind is absolutely engrossed in his present task. Head tilted in concentration, back board-straight and posture still - he doesn't even breathe, fearful of losing his concentration if he so much as exhales at the inopportune moment.

A pencil balances perfectly between his lips and nose.

Until Chuuya's foot greets his desk like a meteor and Dazai's focus wavers. He might have been expecting this much. No. He's planned for it from the start. Of course Dazai was well aware of the mission Mori had for them long before his eager little bloodhound took the news and zoomed off to hunt him down. After all, he didn't rise to this rank by waiting for things to be tossed in his lap. Not even by the boss. But it's still amusing to feign ignorance, if only to watch Chuuya squirm.

Off goes the pencil, rolling around on the floor, accompanied by an obnoxious whine Dazai accentuates just to grate on Chuuya's nerves. It disappears beneath the desk, along with his interest. ]

Chuuuu-ya! Can't you see that I'm busy?

[ Dazai makes a face like a child interrupted while playing an absolutely asinine game, pulling an expression that's halfway between exasperation and pity, as though Chuuya's pea-sized brain could never understand the astronomical importance of pencil-balancing. ]

Oh, really? [ He couldn't sound less interested. ] Great.

[ Mori's commands don't usher Dazai into action the way they practically propel Chuuya. Dazai doesn't harbor anything for the man which could actually make him feel 'motivated'. Not fear, not respect, nor any wish to acquire his approval.

Why he listens and continues to play this strange game of feigned obedience goes deeper than any of that. ]

Come back in an hour.

[ Wait. Actually...... Dazai's mind clicks back into gear, winding around another interesting idea. He's edging frightfully close to being bored now. But Chuuya's furious little storm-cloud of an existence provides a momentary salve for that. If he pokes him just right. ]

Oooooor. Is there a reason you came here so early?

[ Dazai's voice drops down into something downright nefarious as he readjusts from the comical lounging pose to something more poised, resting an elbow on his desk and propping his chin neatly atop it's cupped hand. When he wants to, the fluidity of his movements are seamless. Liquid. Like something serpentine and predatory, slithering forward towards the morsel locked within his sights. It's astounding how nonthreatening a person can appear, so long as they move as though unhurried, with a casual sort of laziness Dazai has turned into performance art. Right up until the moment he strikes. ]

Are you hoping for some pre-mission bonding, solidifying our roles as partners? Or did you just want to make some lasting memories with me, in case I don't survive the inevitable danger?

[ When Dazai's nearest hand, his left - equally dexterous and deadly as the other, settles grazing fingertips underneath the hem of Chuuya's pant-leg, he makes sure they're felt. He knows exactly where his partner's trousers and his despicable shoes fail to meet. Dazai misses nothing. Not even the half a dozen times he's witnessed skin peak out between the gap whenever a pant-leg shifts upward or a shoe-clad foot twists just so. ]

Aren't you flattering yourself, though?

[ Fingers take a leisurely tour ever southward, eventually dragging along Chuuya's Achilles tendon with the same kind of forbidden spark given when revealing an exposed weaknesses left for exploitation. With enough force from even something benign as a pencil, he could render Mori's little lapdog lame in the time it takes Chuuya to realize he'll never stand properly again.

He wonders: do they shoot dogs that can't walk, or is that only an occupational hazard for horses? ]

Hmm~ I don't think you'd last an hour!

[ Dazai makes a satisfied hum in the back of his throat as his other fingers begin to encircle Chuuya's leg. The pleasant little noise provides a stark contrast to that peculiar look of victory in impossibly dark eyes that haven't left Chuuya since his arrival.

It's the only warning Chuuya gets before Dazai gives his desk a vicious kick that knocks it aside, all while his hand moves to clamp a vice-like grip over that leg. He means to destabilize Chuuya's footing and throw him off balance, all while ensuring no abilities come into play but his own. ]

[ Chuuya can feel his blood pressure spiking exponentially with each and every word that falls out of Dazai’s mouth. “Busy,” his ass. They’ve worked together long enough for Chuuya to know that mock concentration only rises only from the other’s sheer boredom at life, and that itself pisses him off. It always has — that bastard’s never actually cared about any of this, yet he’s the one made Executive? Then again, despite his best efforts to impress and to please, Dazai’s always been Mori’s favorite, hasn’t he?

He opens his mouth several times to retort but Dazai just keeps rattling on, never giving an opening (and really, when has he ever?), to the point Chuuya just gives in to gritting his teeth and glaring razor-sharp daggers.

He’s had years of practice growing thick skin to his “partner’s” jeers and derision, but leave it to that asshole to still know exactly how to push absolutely every single last one of Chuuya’s buttons. Everything about Dazai irritates him, but most of all the practiced ease with which he does this at the drop of a dime — or more accurately, a hat.

He’s so focused on the veritable bile spewing from his mouth that Chuuya almost misses Dazai’s hand reaching out — that in itself isn’t enough to bother him, after all. What could Dazai possibly do to use that to his advantage?

The fingers ghosting along his ankle, past the tendons beneath his skin, almost tickle — and that gives him another sort of uneasy tension he can’t quite place. He’s not even sure he’d want to. If he weren’t far tooused to Dazai’s bullshit and if he weren’t far too proud, the uncomfortable action might even make him squirm. Chuuya doesn’t just let people touch him, let alone get close enough to be dangerous.

Except, somehow, his partner always does.

Dazai knows how to play Chuuya like a marionette and use each of his strengths and weaknesses every way back to Sunday — has done so many times in the past. It makes him beyond desperate to wipe that smugly satisfied look off his face, because what the fuck makes him think he’s won some battle they haven’t even engaged in yet?

Unfortunately for Chuuya, this opportunity comes a little too quickly. ]

Bastard!

[ His eyes widen the moment Dazai moves, paperwork immediately forgotten, but it’s too late to react — his mistake, as always, is paying too much attention to what Dazai says and not to what Dazai does. He flails just a bit in an infuriatingly undignified way, seeking to gain even the slightest bit of balance yet, turning the full-force of his anger at the man in front of him.

It takes a moment, and if he’s not careful he knows Dazai will exploit that the way he does everything else, because Dazai is always one step ahead, several plans further than anyone else he ever games and toys with. And Chuuya may not be the ‘brains’ of Double Black, but he’s not a moron and he knows when he’s being toyed with like a pawn or passing fancy. ]

You want to fucking go right now!?

[ Luckily for him, that means he is the ‘brawn’ of Double Black, and if Dazai thought he could beat him with strength alone he wouldn’t always rely on such bullshit insults and trickery (that Chuuya won’t admit he falls for, every damn time).

He hops backwards with the force of Dazai’s move — managing not to topple over completely, he pivots on his good foot so he has enough leverage to try and bring the one Dazai has gripped tight in his clutches down on the ground hard. Not his necessarily his best move while still off balance, but he’s cocky enough to assume he doesn’t need that or his Ability to deal with whatever sparring Dazai could possibly throw his way. ]

Bonding, my ass! The only lasting memories I want with you are ones where I put you in the goddamn ground!

[It's Ango's curse to be smart enough to recognize a rotten situation when he sees one, but seldomly smart enough to predict the exact moment when the other shoe will drop. And thus his existence seems to be an unending and stressful exercise in frustration.

Take this meeting for instance. Ango knows it's going to hurt, but whether the damage will be done to his feelings or his whole body remains unclear. Sure, he has taken precautions. Of course he has. But last time precautions didn't spare him from a painful stay at the hospital, which only ended with his excruciating (albeit temporary) near death at the hands of Yosano-sensei.

So why is he secretly looking forward to this? If Ango had to confess, which he wouldn't even under duress, he'd say friends are hard to come by.]

Kyouka Izumi's clean records and new ID as an approved Armed Detective Company member. [He pushes the manila folder across the park bench.] Be careful with those. I am not redoing them.

Edited 2017-02-06 05:32 (UTC)

[Leaning towards him being a leader of some kind - a king or modern equivalent - but I'm open to anything. Willing to AU and open to cross-canon.]

[ Right hand man in canon, though I'm sure he'd love to be a boss as well. Could work as a bodyguard, too. For all your posh Italian mafia and murdersquad needs. ]