streetwalkers | (no subject)

[It's because you're really going overboard. Is what Aoba doesn't say. He glances out from the alleyway to the street, keeping an eye out even while he's preoccupied with the person next to him. Honestly he wasn't sure how far Mikado would take things, even he's surprised by the lengths Mikado is going here, for the gang cleansing, for his own satisfaction.]

[Aoba can't tell himself how much further Mikado's willing to go, and the thought makes him both nervous and interested. In the game of getting the upper hand, he has the advantage of time, but Mikado isn't someone he can take lightly, like he used to believe. No, if Aoba himself is a monster, than Mikado might qualify as a demon.]

[Shaking off the thoughts he looks back at his senior.]

It's still pretty early in the evening, what should we do, Leader?

[ To do this right, he needs to go overboard. If the people that they're "purging" from the space of Dollars continue to exist... Then, they're not completely gone from the space that needs to be burnt to the ground and built up again. He'll burn himself down too, of course, in order to ensure that it's an ideal space... but as things stand now, he needs to exist to continue the ignition. ]

Did you have anything else planned, Aoba-kun?

[ ...That could mean anything. Did he have any more attacks planned, or did he simply want to do something like get something to eat? It's not clear which one Mikado means. ]

[Aoba's at least interested in the extremes Mikado's willing to go to. He taps his phone and passes it over, the screen open to a Dollars message with just a name and address. The address isn't far, the name is a target.]

It'd just be the two of us though, the others are still scattered. We can come back another time if you want.

...No. If we're going right to an address... Bringing a large group of people wouldn't work.

[ we don't need like eight teenage boys breaking into an apartment ]

[Kyaa senpai, so vicious. Aoba takes his phone back and checks the route.]

They're home, that's why the information was posted. We can get there in five minutes.

[Pocketing his phone Aoba gives Mikado a refreshing smile.]

Since it's Leader's decision, there's no reason to hesitate. Shall we?

[ the police were called too early into last time, and they didn't carry out what they went to do. ...he wants to get something done tonight, at least. ]

Right. Let's go.

Right right, follow me ♥

[Aoba stuffs his scarf into his pocket, hiding it as he heads out of the alleyway into the main streets. Better to blend in as high schoolers on their way to the place, so they won't stand out.]

[It really does only take about five minutes to read the apartment building.]

[ and, thankfully, the place he lives in is also concealed by an alley... that already has it's fire exit down. it's easy enough to go up without making much noise, and crouch down under his kitchen window.

...he's asleep, it looks like. passed out in front of the tv after drinking too much, from what the pile of cans next to his chair shows. without taking his eyes off the sleeping man, mikado makes sure that his gloves are on right, covering his whole hands before slowly pushing the window up. ]

[While Mikado does that Aoba has his eyes on the surroundings, keeping the look out for anyone passing by or looking... But no one does. It's easy to slip into the apartment after Mikado has the window open, and he remains by the escape route, still looking outside for the most part.]

[But he keeps and eye on Mikado, because it's always interesting to watch his senior, now that he's grown into such an extremist.]

[ If he had much humanity left that wasn't burnt to the ground, yet to be rebuilt in the Utopia he's planning on crafting, Mikado might slip out of that swirling black cloud for long enough to remark at how simple it is to be fully consumed by it, enough so that he can barely tell what he's doing.

...At this point, he can't say that he understands Izaya's love of humans at all. They're too... fragile. There's nothing really interested or exciting in how simply that life can be taken from them. Not... so much anymore, really. At first, he'd stood there for what felt like ten years, hands trembling and corners of his mouth turned up at what he could do. At what he did.

Now, there's barely any note at all - Let alone emotion - in how swiftly he can drive a steak knife into a man's windpipe. ]

[Aoba's used to violence, he'd set up Blue Square so long ago because his capacity to care for other humans just isn't enough to include compassion. Or another way of saying it is he doesn't like other people. But even to someone like him the clean efficient way Mikado wields the knife, like he has every right in the world, like it doesn't excite him--the way Mikado smiled the first time--is enough to be kind of disturbing.]

[The man jerks when the knife enters his skin, but he barely has time to wake before he's dying.]

[ his hands twitch and he blinks, and that's all of what could be called a "reaction" that shows on mikado. it's absolutely something that's enough to be seen as disturbing - not only did he just take a man's life, but did so with a face that doesn't seem to show anything that's like regret.

he steps back, and- ]

...Ah...

[ ...oops. he'd been standing a little too close, and had been lightly caught in the spray of blood that stabbing a man in the jugular gives off. of course, they wear dark clothes on these outings so it barely shows, but this isn't something he wants to leave as any kind of trail, once the police are called in a few days by the neighbours when this apartment starts to smell. ]

...That was careless.

[Aoba's not sure if Mikado is terrifying or fascinating or a bit of both, that he can take the blood splatter and barely react. But they can't exactly escape with Mikado bloody and they can't exactly use the man's apartment to clean up and risk leaving evidence either.]

[ absently, a hand comes up to touch against blood that had sprayed onto his face - until, he realizes that he's wearing thick gloves. if there's a flag that goes up in the back of his mind, warning him that it's pretty bad he's disappointed over not being able to feel someone's blood between his fingers, it's obscured by thick black smoke. ]

--Aa, it was. For now, I could turn my sweatshirt inside out... Eeh, but then to find somewhere completely unrelated to dispose of it....