streetwalkers | (no subject)

(no subject)

It'd been over a decade since the epidemic that wiped out a third of the earth's population, and the wars and political struggles that had risen in the following, chaotic years had down in for another half of what remained, if not more if one counted the death toll to disease and crime, the lack of modern medicine, the tainted environment and water in most urban areas and the general set back in civilization.

Mikado had been fifteen when it started. He was twenty-seven now. And like any of the survivors of the years between the end of the world and now... He was changed. One of the lucky ones to survive disease and war, right? Lucky... Survival came at a cost, and when the streets of Ikebukuro, once bustling with commerce and tourists, became a dead zone of gang warfare and violence, Mikado had been right in the middle of it. And powerless.

He'd learned just how powerless, painfully, and often. Until his hatred and anger had warped and tempered him into something cold and precise as a scalpel. He wasn't strong in the way the thugs and the fighters were, but amateurish inexperience could only last so long and Mikado was a fast learner. He rose to power on three things; his wits, his force of personality, and ruthlessness. Ambushing his enemies and using clever traps and guises to get him where brute strength couldn't, and using those connections that were drawn to his innate charisma to get him where only brute strength could. Even after disaster and damage, he had a certain ability to charm people with his personality, and those that followed him now were, by and large, either incredibly loyal or too useful to be rid of. In turn his mind and vision was too useful for even the less loyal followers to risk trying to be rid of, and so a balance was struck somewhere along the line. He'd lost the charming uncertainty and idealism but he'd gained a quiet, iron confidence that others were drawn to.

He had a game, a way to control the territory he'd wrested from lawlessness. Preventing fighting on the streets of the ruined city was impossible, but he could enforce it. Give it incentive. Only registered combatants would be suffered to be found fighting, and they could tear at each other as they wished, when they wished, wherever they wished. The incentive; tags given to everyone who registered, that could be ripped from a defeated opponent. They could be traded in for anything based on their number value. Better accommodations, whores, drugs, weapons, though guns were banned from the fights. The most skilled could, in theory, attempt for the specific poker hand of tags that would allow them to challenge the organization's mysterious and shadow'd leader, though none had ever reached that goal. In turn, anyone unregistered caught fighting would be summarily executed by the enforcers--unless the enforcers decided they were good looking enough to serve another purpose.

In that way, Ikebukuro stabilized a little. Non-combatants still feared the streets at night but thugs feared the enforcers more, and some semblance of life continuing grew a little, under the watchful laws of the lawless Dollars.

For Mikado this wasn't his end ambition but it was a start. But he hadn't expected, months ago, that one of the new combatants to register would have been Kida himself. The registration took place in the mansion the main members of Dollars called home, and with all registrations Mikado had been watching the newcomers put on their masks, his own in place before he revealed himself to meet them, explain the rules, and ask if they wanted to participate.

His heart had near stopped when he'd seen Kida. He almost hadn't recognized him, both their faces and voices had changed with age and trauma, and Mikado was sure Kida hadn't even had a remote moment of recognition when Mikado explained the purpose and perks of fighters. Mikado's own role in the world he'd created was the secretary to the shadowy and terrifying Dollar's boss, with none but the highest ranking aware that the quiet and no-nonsense, rather popular secretary-san was the shadowy Boss himself. That he dealt in everything from drugs to slavery and black market items, well, that was just a means of further acquiring power. Distasteful as it was, it was effective, and he left the more sadistic parts to those that most enjoyed it, usually.

But seeing Kida had shaken him, worried him in a way he wasn't aware he could still worry. Fighters died daily, defeat could mean anything from humiliation and rape to outright murder, anything was allowed in the laws of the game, but only within the game. A victor had complete freedom to deal with a loser as they saw fit, and after seeing Kida's face for the first time in years, Mikado had had his first nightmare in years; that same face dead and staring, lifeless and accusatory. For days afterwards he'd been grumpy and out of sorts, a state he couldn't afford to maintain.

Try as he might to put it from mind, he couldn't help but be drawn to Kida's progress in the fights. And Kida's presence brought with it other trouble. Members of a gang from a territory Mikado didn't control (not yet, but that was an eventual goal, they were strong enough to pose a problem for now though) had started showing up in Dollar's territory. They weren't registered fighters and they mostly respected the game's laws (those who didn't met bad ends, even rival gangs feared the consequences of violating Dollar's law) but they were still a concerning presence, trouble tracking Kida.

And Mikado was tracking them. He knew, after a few weeks of his underlings keeping tabs, that the gang was after Kida, and so he kept watch himself or through an underling.

So when Kida found himself being backed into a corner by the thugs of that group Mikado had been watching, Mikado happened to be there. If Mikado were an enforcer he'd have dealt with them ruthlessly, but he was only the Dollar's "secretary" and so he made a note of each face before he darted out of the shadow of one doorway, grabbed Kida's arm with a shouted "This way!" and ran.

No one knew the streets and back alleys like Mikado did, like he'd made a point to, and but still he kept them navigating the maze of abandoned and derelict buildings for twenty minutes to be safe, before coming to a stop in one mostly intact old apartment building, a little winded, letting go of Kida to glance cautiously out a broken window. The streets were empty, there wasn't a sound or feeling of anyone but the two of them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I'm only dangerous to the wrong kind of people.

[Says the drunk guy whose gun is sitting about two feet away on the coffee table. He takes better care of that thing than he does himself, easy.]

I'm still a lover of love, you know. I've had a lotta lovers. Was thinkin' about getting married soon, maybe. --Oh, but that one died.

[His face goes dark for just a moment, before he purposefully distracts himself with a different thought.]

I wasn't going to shoot you, anyway. I couldn't, 'cause-- 'cause I'm sentimental. [enough so to try to drape an arm over Mikado's shoulders] I can't stop thinking of you as my friend, so I'm not dangerous to you, right? Not directly, anyway... It's the baggage that's gonna get you.

[A dead fiancee. Sucks. But Mikado doesn't say that, letting the conversation move on and lifting the drink to his lips, companionably allowing Kida to invade his personal space and drape on him.]

I know that. I was just amused out how sentimental I am too.

[He shakes his head, downing the glass without savoring it.]

I'm not too concerned about your baggage.

Is that 'cause you're really strong, or just 'cause you like me?

[It's an important question. It's also one that's being delivered like it's a joke, as he leans more heavily on his friend and soaks up the much-missed feeling of being close to someone.]

Both.

[It's an honest answer, maybe too honest but he's already pouring himself another drink and topping Kida's off so he's not going to elaborate on it. He's fairly content to let Kida do most of the talking anyway, it feels more familiar and comfortable.]

Hmm... You said you were a fan, too, right? Tell me what you thought about me, before you knew it was me.

[Mikado rolls his eyes and leans back but there's a kida on him so leaning on Kida is the compromise.]

I admired that you could follow an ideal like that of helping other people when the world was so messed up. When I was at my worst I started hearing about you...

[He stops and glosses over to the rest.]

Ah... Well, the idea of a "hero" existing is sort of inspiring to everyone, don't you think? At first when I heard of you I thought you were full of it but when it turned out you weren't I always wanted to meet you and see what kind of person you were for real. I wouldn't have imagined it was you.

Edited 2013-11-22 23:33 (UTC)

Yeah... When we were kids, I always ran away when it got rough. But when it got bad, I lost someone really important to me, and I thought... The people around me were always so much stronger. Just average people who stood up and did their best every day even when it hurt.

[He starts in on that other drink as he talks, settling in and getting comfortable. He's not trying to hide that he's pressing close, but he's always been that way. He likes the contact. The warmth.]

You know, I actually ran a gang in middle school. Never got around to telling you that one... But because I knew how, I thought I should try to organize a little bit. And the next thing I knew, everybody was listening to me. So I decided that I-- I can't run from things, anymore. I won't let anyone down anymore, even if that means struggling when it's pointless. But I never thought I'd get knocked down this bad... Uhm, but it's okay. Because I found you, I'm not alone anymore.

[Mikado hasn't been used to casual touch in years, but he's drunk enough to tolerate it from Kida.]

[He's quiet and listens to the admission, and the confession, without making any embarrassed or tsun comments like he might have once. No mocking or sarcasm. He sips his drink and turns his head to look at Kida, somehow surprised to find him so close even with the guy draping on him.]

From everything I heard you helped a lot of people.... I did miss you though. It shocked me pretty bad when you walked in alive a few months ago, but I'm glad you did.

I'm sorry it took so long to recognise you. Seems kind of stupid when you knew me right away... But then, you had my name, too. Still... You're an ordinary-seeming guy, but there's a few things that stand out.

[Annnd how to move the conversation away from himself. Even drunk Mikado isn't too keen on this direction of topic.]

It's fine, I said before I was surprised to see you, so it wouldn't be unnatural to not recognize me either. Do you want another drink?

I've had a lot of drinks. I have a half a drink.

[Fortunately for Mikado, Kida's easily distracted when he's this far gone. Unfortunately, he also has very little filter.]

Hey. You're doing that on purpose...

How many have you had? Instead of offering another maybe I should be cutting you off?

No way. I'm not throwing up, I'm still good.

[to demonstrate this, he knocks back the rest of his current cup and sets it down (without quiiite slamming it) on the table]

See, I'm fine. I feel better. Better than... than the whole last year. I'm totally relaxed. Chill. I could be happy, maybe.

[Are your standards that low? Mikado sighs and tries to get comfortable.]

Maybe?

Don't think I'm allowed to be happy yet.

[He is however apparently allowed to initiate outright cuddling]

But then there's some things I'm really happy about, anyway. So maybe.

[Okaaay this cuddling thing is is weird. Mikado just kind of sits stiffly for it and looks incredulously at Kida.]

I didn't know you had to have permission. Do you sign a form and mail it in to a government office for official happiness approval and licencing?

[Okay there's the snark.]

Should I be reporting you for illegal and unlicensed happiness?

Edited 2013-11-23 01:02 (UTC)

You can report me for drunk and disorderly emotions.

[drops his head to press his face against Mikado's shoulder]

And I'll report you for being cute and rude.

[Pats his head.]

I think you need to lay down.

[You're calling ruthless gang leaders cute you are getting cut off.]

Edited 2013-11-23 01:09 (UTC)

Nope. I like it here. You're warm.

Your bed will warm up.

Bed-warm is not people-warm. Unless you share it.

...Hey, are you still the shy type?

[Rolls his eyes again.]

How did we get to this?

[completely ignoring that in favor of lifting his head to stare intently at Mikado's face]

I haven't dated nearly as many guys as girls. It's kind of weird when you're the boss and they don't know if they're allowed to top, y'know? Have you dated anybody? Are you going out with Anri?

[Thaaat was unsubtle enough even for Mikado. He blinks then sighs, setting his drink down.]

I haven't really found dating or sex that interesting since high school. I've got other things to worry about.

[It's curt but serious, not really inviting a "why" so much as attempting to end the discussion entirely.]

I think it's time you slept.

[He attempts to stand and haul Kida with him, results rely on Kida's cooperativeness.]

Edited 2013-11-23 01:22 (UTC)

[He doesn't resist! He does, however, look a little stung, before he covers it with a melodramatic pout. No matter how you spin it, that kind of flatness is a rejection. Suddenly he's a bit afraid it's also going to be a fuck-up that stays on his record.]

Jeez. You don't have to be so cold about it.