interstellar5555 | party rock is in the house tonight

Entry tags:

party rock is in the house tonight

Who: Osamu Dazai, and YOU!
What: A man about town being a man about town, i.e. various prompts and excitement where our intrepid rescuer sets himself up to be an intrepid hot mess.
When: 3/28-3/31
Where: An alleyway, a bar, and snooping around some music stores.
Warnings: Alcohol and possible discussion or use of drugs. Possible suicide mentions. As always please fill out this content warning post with regard to that if desired. Thanks!!

alley cat blues
Dazai is the sort of guy who can be subtle or not, and switch with such ease that it's almost scary. This is one of those more subtle days. He's been surreptitiously tailing anyone he finds interesting, and succeeding grandly at looking inconspicuous and like he's just there, not following at all. How about that? Although this time, he might (deliberately) get caught near one of the other rescuers, around whom he's much less cautious. Why them? Well, he's a pinch hitter right now until he finds his own target for rescuing. Sure, it's a group effort, but none of the musicians are interesting on the surface. He has to figure them out, whittle them down to what's real and what's imagined. Fun stuff. No, seriously, he thinks it's fun.

Musicians may get a little taste of what seems like a fan who simply seems too shy to ask for an autograph. This is the Dazai laying in wait. And looking kind of cute in his fedora and loose shirt and hole-y jeans. What's up with the bandages on his neck, chest, and arms? He'll never tell!~

barring disaster
Okay, so this one's a little less subtle in intent. The same Dazai, same week, can then be found in the later evenings at a different bar each night. One night, class and charm turned on in the glittering establishment for those post-work cocktails, where he'll compliment you gently with a soft smile and interested eyes.

The next, a little honky-tonk kind of place with dancing and loud music. He only participates in the line dancing once, but it seems to amuse him to no end, and he makes a valiant attempt to shove you out into the fray. His eyes sparkle with mischief and dullness at once.

Another night, and he's at a bustling, small place, loud and smoky and god knows what's going on because it's so chaotic. Here's where he'll shout that your fly is unzipped, whether true or not, and hand you a beer for no reason. Careless and jovial, there's still something about the way he looks at you that says he's watching every move you make.

The last night. The crazy night. Loud again, but in a place infamous enough that one wouldn't suspect a guy like him to even be let in. He's all scruff and carelessness, and they're all the cream of the crop when it comes to throwing money at nothing. Who knows what goes on in the back? For now, he's at the bar, poking around a weird residue on the counter while looking visibly intoxicated. Maybe you're about to get herded to the back for a talk.

disc jockey
If there's anything Dazai loves, it's music! Okay, not necessarily--some of these bands are really shitty in his opinion (sorry folks!). He stands around at the music store, or listening to various people's music--he's pulling headphones off heads and tuning in for a second before excusing himself and taking them back--sampling the wares, as it were, of each famous group. He's settled on his weird favorite, of course, but it's generally considered good form to get to know the brainwashed folks' art form. Maybe he can start unraveling things from there. With all the appearance in this case of a cloud cuckoolander, there's little one can do but stare. Or have your headphones absconded with for a brief moment.

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Shin is pretty eager to get that rush again, but he'd saved some for later too. While Dazai snorts his line Shin leans against the door, but is more than happy to trade places. He waits a brief moment as some part of him tries to tell him to turn back now, to run the opposite direction and never touch this shit again. The side desperate for relief wins out as he leans down to do another line, a smile bursting across his face.

He trades places with Dazai again. Offering the bill back, but bouncing a bit with the rush. He couldn't even find it in him to be scared of where he was going at this point.

He smiles, looks happy, tips his head back as he shuffles away from the counter and paces the room a bit. It'll take a minute. Just a minute. Just long enough for Shin to do the next line, and for his features to register annoyance while out of the line of sight. He'll have to fix this, too. First someone's damn brainwashing nonsense, then--oh, he's looking again, so that enigmatic smile is slammed back onto his face and he licks his lips before taking the bill once more.

And again, he does it, again he reminds himself that his reasons are two-fold, and now he's found himself interested in a little lost cause. Who's the puppy? Who's the guard dog? The bill is passed back as it hits him, hard, and he laughs too loudly before hopping up to sit on the counter.

"I like your friends."

"Yeah, I have real quality friends," he says with a sardonic tint to his voice despite the smile. There's only one more line left for the each of them, and his nose is thankful for that. He does it and sighs with relief as the rush hits him again.

Fortunately for both of them he was smart enough to go sparingly on the lines, so they really only had about what would normally be a line and a half. He wanted to get that initial rush a few times, but knows that his body would not be able to handle so much so soon after starting this horrible habit. He'd rather keep it low anyway, try not to get totally hooked if it wasn't too late already.

He passes the bill back to Dazai once more, smiling. He has no idea this person is anyone beyond a random fan snorting lines with him, so how could he know that he'd gotten himself a rescuer. He'd appreciate it eventually, but push too fast and he'll be kicking and screaming the whole way. Fortunately Dazai seems too smart to push it.

Like the detective, his expression flattens a bit when his companion isn't looking. It's not annoyance, but a bit of self-loathing mixed with a sense of hopelessness and confusion. If this was all he ever wanted, why did it feel so goddamn empty?

The tone is the tell, and Dazai is glad enough to hear something like... despair? It's hope, in his book. Get this kid away from all this nonsense and see what he can really do. He doesn't need drugs and drinks. Maybe he needs music. Dazai isn't sure. What he does know is that he's itching for a chance to figure out what's real, and what's not.

Taking the bill, fussing with it, Dazai looks Shin over and thinks rather deeply, all the time with that lovely, vacant expression. The damn alcohol is making his head swim, and their new friend is making him feel like he can take on the universe, with the amount of energy he has. He wants to run into the night and figure the whole world out immediately. Can't, though. Shame.

Leaning over, sprawling on the countertop, he sloppily does the last line and apologizes brightly for the slight mess. Neither one of them should be doing it, but Dazai knows his constitution and self-awareness allow him to push through many, many things. He's not dead yet. That's proof enough. At any rate, he's also now more interested in Shin than he is in the spying and interesting-ish adventures he's been having, and in a way the young man might not find so good, should he discover the motives. Rolling and unrolling the bill, he eventually passes it back to its owner and slides off the counter, smoothly settling on his feet with wide eyes and a smile that could win a room... rather uncomfortably.

"You're a complicated guy, Shin." He knows. He sees it, even though he's not looking directly. He feels it in his very presence. Something miserable. Something wrong. He's completely sold on this world, as the bastards want him to be. Meanwhile, Dazai is waiting and watching for a moment. "I think it's interesting."

Shin actually just snorts up the last of it himself before hiding the evidence. He leans into Dazai, coming on pretty heavily because why the fuck not? In for a penny, in for a pound, and this guy was clearly taking an interest in him. Maybe he could get some new shoes out of it. He's pretty sure he can deal with a dick in his ass for that.

"Really? I'm usually taken a man of... simple tastes." He licks his lips and looks Dazai over appraisingly. Just take his soul already. Or murder him for his designer glasses. Sounds like a pretty good night to him, honestly. Why not give himself more reasons to hate himself in the morning. If he's going to self-destruct, he's going to do it like the fucking rock star he is.

Well, then. He's being rather heavily leaned on, suggestively approached as it were. All he sees in this kid is misery, and while he gets it, there's no reason for anyone suffering, especially when their misery and situation aren't their fault.

"Simple tastes, maybe." He hums thoughtfully, then puts a hand atop Shin's head. "Not so simple everything else." The way he licks his lips. Those eyes. The press of bodies. It'd do it for some people.

It bores Dazai.

"I think I'm going to have fun with you."

"I love making things fun for others," he smiles still, "for a price." Take it as a joke on the music industry now, while he's making it pretty apparent that's not the fun he's talking about. It's not his fault he only knows how to be used. He's scared and alone, and as sad as it is it's a comfort zone for him. He might laugh about how fucked up it is if he actually realized what he was doing.

It's fine. Dazai will just gently run a hand over Shin's hair, down the back of his head, to his neck, then away to his shoulder. In fact, he has his hands on both of Shin's shoulders and is leaning in just a little, looking at the young man with sharp, knowing eyes. It's not quite enough to be frightening, but the sense that some insight is being had is strongly apparent.

"Do you want to make things fun for me, then?"

Dude, don't fuck with his spiked hair. He's not going to let any irritation show, too busy pretending to be enamoured. He is way to high and drunk to realize that this 'fan' is looking right through him. "I'm yours for the right price."

Gently. The key word. There's not a hair out of place. Don't you dare ask how. The game of pretend still bores Dazai, but he wants to see how far he can push it. He's high as a damn kite, of course, and drunk as well, and standing here with some teenage boy leaning on him in a public bathroom... Well, that conveniently no one can get into because he blocked the door in a quite subtle fashion. Clearly Shin hasn't noticed that yet. Good.

"The right price, hm? No set rate?" Watch as he looms, only it looks more like an affectionate lean in on his part. "Are you making me guess?"

Shin could care less right now. He wants to do something stupid that he'll regret in the morning. He did regularly do gay things to make ladies squeal, why not keep pushing it? "We can keep it legal, you get me some new clothes, and no one ends up in trouble. One grand?"

Just take him back and use him, stiff him on the 'payment'. He doesn't care. It's all just more reason to get wasted and high the next day too.

Dazai isn't that kind of person, and right now feels a strong urge to kill anyone weak enough to want to prey on someone in Shin's shape. Maybe Shin thinks he wants it, but he's as much a stray as the rest of them. And despite their earlier conversation, one of the things Dazai hates most in the world is dogs. Too loyal, too suspicious, too stuck up. They're in a similar boat, these two, trying to escape. Shin, though, doesn't know what he's escaping from, and Dazai knows enough for the both of them.

"If we do, are you going to remember it tomorrow?"

Shin laughs derisively at that. "I'm pretty high, but I'm not nearly drunk enough to black out." No, he was actually in fairly decent shape for how much they'd been drinking. He started long before he was of legal age and always held his liquor surprisingly well. Most of what he's feeling right now it the rush of the coke. And honestly? If he doesn't end up with Dazai tonight, he's probably going to do another line in an hour or so and take his motorbike around the city.

Dazai is still unsteady on his feet, and he has no idea what he's going to do with this high, but he has his answer in many forms. And his stubborn mind is made up. If he causes the right scene now, he causes confusion, and initiates a sequence of unpredictable events that he'll think right through and enjoy to the last.

"Right!" He's chipper as hell, suddenly, and it's not the coke. He's just naturally kind of bizarre, and it's showing now. With that smile now almost unhinged, he looks Shin over, pushing him away. "Then you can't tell anyone what I'm about to do. I'd hate for them to catch on."

He rolls up his sleeves like he's about to do something extreme, but he just holds up three fingers.

"One. I don't like men." Sorry. "Two. My name isn't Kunikida. He'll probably give me a papercut for saying that." What? "Three." He grins. Oh, how he smiles like the cheshire cat ready to gatekeep the world. "I'm here to rescue you." Dazai shrugs, and crosses his arms, fussing with the bandages as he does so.

"Any questions?"

Shin is stuck staring at him for a moment, and then breaks out laughing like it's the funniest thing ever. "The fuck?" is all he has to offer in response to that. He is way too high for this shit right now, give him a minute for this to actually sink in. "Rescue me from what? Turning gay or something? I'm not really into guys either, but hell, if I got stuff out of it, why the hell not?" What is even happening? What is this shit?

Why is there a growing sense of terror in the pit of his stomach?

Perfect. Misdirection leads to disbelief. Disbelief keeps the target safe, yet they're informed enough that when the time comes, they'll see the truth, and Dazai will be seen as reliable. Fancy all that. A perfect plan.

He laughs right along with Shin for a moment. "Funny story, isn't it? Haha, good joke! Suffice to say, I feel pretty satisfied with tonight. I mean, really, thanks for the drinks and the--" He points. "--rather mediocre cocaine. If you're hell bent on tearing yourself up, get the good stuff."

If Dazai knew the extent of that terrible feeling, he'd be dreadfully pleased, too. He doesn't want to scare Shin, but if he can nudge him down a skeptical road, he'll do fine.

"Hey, if you can point me towards better stuff..." he shrugs. "You're crazy, man. I really thought I was going to get a new pair of shoes from you or something." Now that they're going away from this 'rescue' business that fear is ebbing away. He's not feeling so sick, like he wants to just fall to the floor. Maybe it was just because he got shit product.

Blame the cocaine. Go for it. If that makes him sleep better at night.

"I can point you toward better stuff, but you've got to give me a little time to get my proverbial ducks in a row." He shakes his head. "Do you want new shoes, or do you want your life back?"

So many meanings.

Again, what? "What are you talking about? I've been working for this my whole life. This is my life." He sounds more convicted than many others might, since back home this was what he did, with a bit less self-destruction. Only a little less. Back home he wouldn't have started on coke. He wasn't that desperate. Though weed was illegal where he came from.

Dazai is beyond amused, pursing his lips slightly.

"Metaphor. You're excellent at what you do, please don't let anyone tell you otherwise." Excellent at fucking up his own life--hey, coming from Dazai, that's a pretty strong indictment, right there. He could be so much more. Tragic.

Enough is clearly enough, and Dazai runs a hand through his hair, fussing with the ends a bit before he turns to leave. With amazing (and probably hilarious) effort, he removes his shoe from where it was barring entry and replaces it on his foot.

Shin tries to grab the arm of this guy, baffled and unnerved. "What are you talking about? Kuni... whatever your real name is? What the hell do you mean?" Why does he feel so sick? That feeling of being able to take on anything was still there, but energy had just drained from his limbs. Somehow he just managed to hold onto Dazai shakingly.

Edited 2016-04-02 17:04 (UTC)

"Oh, sorry. It's Dazai." His smile is like poison and condescension with the thinnest veil of caring. He can't show him the truth. He can only show him how to find it. That look of distress is helpful, and an honestly good sign, except now he's faintly concerned the kid will die before this is all done. How troublesome....

Patting the hand on his arm, he turns to look at Shin properly.

"If you want to know more, you're done for the night." Sigh. "I'll buy you shoes?"

He's still holding onto Dazai's arm, though his hand slips to grab just the sleeve. He hangs his head, confused as to why he's shaking so badly, why he feels like he's going to throw up the more he thinks on what the hell this random guy is talking about.

"Forget the shoes," he sighs. It doesn't feel right just taking them without giving some kind of service. "I'll close my tab, but I need a fucking cigarette." Because above all else, cigarettes are his main crutch. His cherry flavoured cigarettes are the one thing he'll probably never be able to let go. "If I don't get sick first."

He'll push his way past Dazai and to the bar to close his tab properly, trying his best to just smile and act like nothing's amiss. When the bartender gives him a look, he just winks like he's going to score. He'd never had such a hard time holding back the sweat and the feeling of being sick. It was like his entire body was rejecting the line of thought he's trying to follow.

Dazai merely brushes off his sleeve as the young man departs, and though he could stay and wait in the bathroom like a creep, he slowly follows instead. Casually, from a bit of a distance.

"Don't get sick," he chimes, patting him on the shoulder in front of the bartender. "You have such a busy night ahead of you!" Shrugging, he puts a hand lightly on the back of Shin's shoulder and easily guides him out. They have a lot to talk about.

He invented interrogation techniques that no one's ever resisted. Surely he can flip that around. Off he goes to an alley between streets, nudging Shin along.

Shin holds his head as they get around the corner, "I did not do nearly enough shit to feel like this. The fuck?"

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