party rock is in the house tonight

[ninjou]

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.

Comments

[bass_instincts]

Why must you do this, Dazai.

Shin's looking a bit like he's going to throw up. He's trying to grab onto a memory, but they all seem so vague. He should probably cut back on the weed.

He's trying to not freak out that it's taking him so long to think of an answer to a simple question.

"My father, refusing to look at me when I tried asking for food." But he couldn't make out the face, or any details.

[ninjou]

He must, he must, increase his... trust!

He watches Shin carefully, analyzing his reactions and the way his body moves as he contemplates things. Maybe pain again? Definite discomfort. And he's taking forever.

"Your father sounds like a terrible person, in that case."

[bass_instincts]

"Yeah, he was a real piece of work," That much he knows. Why try to hide something like that when it could fit into this world so well? The problems are really getting the details to line up, since he has no father here. There's no mother, no Ryoko, or anyone else he knows. They can't let him be able to know enough to try to go looking for them.

[ninjou]

"Well, more on him later, then." He tips his head to the side, smiling blankly. "Therefore, question two from you."

[bass_instincts]

"Where are you from?" He's going to try to get smaller bits of information from this guy then, but he's very thankful for the passing of that discomfort.

[ninjou]

"Japan. I live in Yokohama." That's fair, and true. And not a place that really exists here. HRMMM.

[bass_instincts]

There's a moment of recognition, "Oh, that's..." and it's gone, "That's not a real place. Do you mean Japana?"

[ninjou]

"No. Japan. No A." More smiling. It morphs into a blank expression. "Nothing?" Pause. "Wait, that was two questions."

[bass_instincts]

"What do you mean, nothing?" He's trying to sort out what the guy's saying, but isn't trying to dig into his memory, so his body and mind isn't getting royally fucked by the brainwashing.

[ninjou]

"Nothing, meaning that's not ringing a bell. You're giving me the 'you're a crazy bastard' look, when it's more that you're mentally screwed up, at the moment." Shaking his head. "Two from me, now. One, what's your father's name? Two, what city are you from?"

[bass_instincts]

He freezes again and finds the wall for support. His mind doesn't want to go there. It keeps slipping away, "Why does it matter?"

Deflection, whoops.

[ninjou]

"It's not your turn." That's it. That's the answer. Don't fuck with the weirdo.

[bass_instincts]

"This is bullshit," he complains.

He's at least starting to question why he's not able to remember this stuff, if only in the back of his mind. "I'm not even supposed to be talking about that stuff."

[ninjou]

"And?" Dazai shakes his head again, this time adamantly. "At least you're getting the point, though. It's weird that you don't remember. Or, rather, that you can't." Here goes nothing...

[bass_instincts]

"I don't know why I even bothered coming here."

And really, he could possibly have been followed by some guard jerk or something.

[ninjou]

"You bothered because you know I've got a point." He looks at him with a little coldness, and a little concern. "You're not going to answer?"

[bass_instincts]

"No," but part of him wants to. The other part is nearly retching at the idea. Why is he bothering with trash like this guy?

But even that conflicts with how he thinks of himself, how he thinks of other people. It leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth.

"Why are you saying I'm the one messed up in the head?" He's not going to deny it. He's always had issues. He just has no idea these issues currently include having his brain scrubbed and made compliant. Maybe they would have less of a hard time if they didn't let him keep some of the rebellious streak that's inherent in punk music.

[ninjou]

Answer the damn questions.

Anyway, it sounds like the game is over, and Dazai makes a bit of a disappointed face. It's an important game, dammit. He needs to chip away at this, and fast. Can't let a hopeless case stay hopeless.

"I'm not quite saying that. I'm saying you're having memory problems, and I'm personally interested, as a fellow resident of this place, in helping you out." He doesn't know shit but he's going to figure it out. All he knows is that this kid is resisting his usual style.

Rude.

"What's actually wrong with that? I'm a philanthropist this week."

[bass_instincts]

"How can you help with memory problems?" No, really, what the fuck? How does he even know it's memory problems?

[ninjou]

He huffs, but it's absolutely quiet. Almost inaudible. Almost.

"I'm a detective." That's true. "I detect things."

[bass_instincts]

"So, what, do you want me to hire you to look into my past or something? Couldn't you just get a tabloid to do that instead?"

[ninjou]

"Are you being serious, there?" Come on, kid. "You'd rather have an expose than a nice conversation? I'm not trashy. I read better things than that." You don't want to know.

[bass_instincts]

"How can you even tell that I'm having issues remembering these things?"

And there it is again. The rejection of trying to think about these things. He leans against the wall, looking pale and shaking a bit.

[ninjou]

"Detective." Is he dense? This is a perfectly acceptable answer. He's detecting. God. Obviously. "Your reactions are negative when I ask simple questions about your past, positive when I ask about your current situation. You show physical discomfort more the further back I go, and for that matter, you're not high today, or drunk, so you're taking this seriously."

[bass_instincts]

He's a bit quiet for a few moments, trying to process this, even though it feels like his head is stuck in a thick fog.

He's quiet as he asks, "Why?" Why is he reacting like this? Why is he so desperate to run? Why isn't he running?