beautifulmemer

I. Hina Flower Gardens

"Haha, suckers!" Ango pulled off the "disguise" he'd used for his sixth trip through the food line - a baseball cap and a pair of dark glasses - and opened his promotional Yumemigaoka Community Association reusable shopping bag to inspect the ill-gotten bounty within. After repeated visits to the Community Association's free snack table, Ango had amassed a large collection of seasonal cherry-blossom-viewing treats, each nestled in its own clear plastic container: plump pink sakura mochi wrapped in salted cherry tree leaves, tricolor hanami dango on wooden skewers, deep-fried pockets of inari sushi, and colorful futomaki rolls.

The best thing about cherry blossom season was that nobody paid any attention to a scruffy-looking middle-aged man camped out in a public park with several cans of convenience store beer. Around him, families held picnic parties beneath the blooming trees, and couples snuggled shyly on park benches. Ango spread his beer and free snacks on an old bath towel that he'd laid out in lieu of a blanket. The only thing missing from his cherry-blossom-viewing party were friends to share it with... but Ango had let his best friend die, so this was more than he deserved.

II. Reverie Necropolis

"...Figures I'd end up in a place like this." Ango had skipped the funeral, but he'd still found his way into a tomb. The Necropolis reminded him of the samurai graveyard he'd seen on a middle school field trip to Kamakura, with thousands of catacombs cut from the rock. The sounds of scratching and hushed voices echoed through the dimly lit caves, even though Ango had yet to encounter anyone else in the labyrinth. That, too, reminded him of middle school - pencils digging into paper, jeering whispers in the halls. Perhaps ironically, given that he'd gone on to become a writer, Ango had always hated school.

"Heeey, anybody here?" As much as he hated to admit it, he didn't want to be alone. Ango gripped his glass knives in each hand, wishing that the Dream Sphere had bestowed him with a larger and more intimidating weapon. Something like a machine gun would have been nice. Instead, he'd been given a pair of knives and an outfit that made him look like a ninja cosplayer about to perform at a children's birthday party. He looked like an anime hero, but he sure as hell didn't feel like one.

So there's Ango, enjoying the fruits of his totally above board labors.. when a dark cloud looms on the horizon, in the form of a slim man sidling up to stand with perfect posture by the edge of his "picnic blanket," whose perfectly-pressed collar stands extremely at odds with those dark circles under his eyes.

He's smiling.

"Hi, yes...'Scuse me. I have a little question."

That's not a very promising tone.

Edited 2023-04-01 19:20 (UTC)

Ango looks up at him, eyes narrowed in suspicion. The guy looks even more tired than Ango does, and Ango slept on a park bench last night. But the guy's clothes are clean and crisp, unlike his own shabby leather jacket, and Ango doesn't trust anybody who owns an iron.

"Are you an undercover cop? I ain't talking to cops."

The side of his mouth twitches.

"Sure, lemme just show you my ba-- no I'm not a cop, I'm here for the viewing. Absolutely perfect this year, isn't it? Everyone's really gone all."

A pointed glance down at Ango's banquet.

"Out."

Mr. Perfect Collar steeples his hands together in front of his chest, and slowly, fluidly takes a knee so that he's sunk down to his level with that piercing stare before continuing. "Speaking of out, do you want to know what else our hosts are out of?"

Ango wraps his arms protectively around his hoard and pulls it closer to himself. "Hell no, I got the last sakura mochi! It's mine!"

Sakura mochi always sells out first at a flower-viewing party. Who can resist delicate pink rice dough, wrapped around a core of delectably sweet bean paste, wrapped in a salted cherry leaf? The gooey center, the melt-in-your-mouth sweetness, the subtle hint of salt that makes it go so well with beer... it's his, damn it!

But then Ango notices the little girl playing in the trees nearby... and with a sigh, he hands over the mochi in its plastic box. "Figures I'd get busted by the Snack Police... you'd better give this to a kid. If I catch you eating it yourself, you donut-munching cop bastard, I'll kick your ass."

Novvy's smile is cryptic, smug, and something he only pulls onto his face once the sakura mochi is safely in his grasp, because it's the sort of shit-eating grin that would make someone immediately want to change their mind for whatever they'd just done to provoke it. "We'll see."

Speaking of that kid...

Instead of getting up and leaving, Mr. Perfect Collar cups his free hand by his mouth, and hollers over at her.

"Gratia! Come here, little mochi bunny, look at what the nice man shared with us! You can smash petals up with rocks more later!"

The kid absolutely does not drop the rock before she starts to run over.

Like father, like daughter, Ango thinks to himself as the little girl runs to them with a mud-stained rock clutched in her small fingers. As a former bratty child himself, Ango supports bratty children, but when bratty kids grow up into bratty adults, he can't help but want to punch them.

The Dreamer Union's main office doesn't open until Monday morning, and Ango can't afford a hotel, but he's pretty sure he can survive until then. "Sakura mochi's got leaves in it, so I guess I can get by eating leaves and grass until I get a job..." He quickly pops a whole skewer of hanami dango into his mouth before Mr. Perfect Collar Cop Bastard gets ideas about the rest of his meal.

Brat Prime has even got a blue kerchief with him, which he insists the kid use before he lets her anywhere near sitting down with the both of them. The cloth tag with the word 'daiso' front and center that he's forgotten to cut off kind of ruins that particular illusion of posh.

"You're not gonna be working anywhere if you choke, first. Try chewing. I'm rusty on my Heimlich. Hey, bunbun, are you done?"

The kid silently nods, then sits down.. not half as primly as the dad, but in a flouncy way that makes it obvious she's trying to be. She's looking at the rest of the food with an unholy light in her eye... until Novvy puts the sakura mochi countainer down on her lap.

"Here you go. Now, what do we say?"

The kid looks dead on at Ango... come on Gratia.. we're... waiting for that thank you... any second now...

"Is there grass in it?"

"Of course there's grass in it. That's the good stuff. Ain't ya ever made mud mochi? You've gotta mix in grass, and sticks, and rocks, and cicada shells, and dead flowers... You oughta make some mud mochi for your dad - I bet he'd really like to taste your cooking!"

Ango leans back, smile spreading into his own shit-eating grin. Take that, you smug snack-stealing jerk.

"So you're Gratia, huh? I'm Ango. Nice to meet ya."

(no subject)

kitri - 2023-04-02 02:06 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

darknesshotpot - 2023-04-02 02:42 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

kitri - 2023-04-02 03:30 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

darknesshotpot - 2023-04-02 22:20 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

kitri - 2023-04-03 00:02 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

darknesshotpot - 2023-04-03 03:30 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

kitri - 2023-04-03 04:25 (UTC) - Expand

"Noooope," came an echoing reply from around a curved bend ahead. "Only us spooooooky ghoooosts."

After a moment, though, a twenty-something in Dreamer clothes and colors peeked around the corner. Seeing another Dreamer there seemed to put him at ease, though his expression was hard to make out when his scarf covered half his face. If he was holding a weapon, it disappeared before he raised his hand into view to wave.

"Haha, just kidding. Hey there. Come here often?"

Ango was a cynical realist who definitely didn't believe in ghosts, but the unexpected reply still made him nearly jump out of his skin. He was still putting himself back together when the other Dreamer rounded the corner.

"Nah, I hang out in some shady places, but this is a dump even by my standards", he drawled, forcing himself to relax somewhat. He managed to wave back with a grin. "I've been wandering around for ages and I still can't find a halfway decent bar. Any luck on your end?"

Ango sheathed his knives - if the other Dreamer had come from up ahead, then there probably wasn't anything dangerous lurking around the next bend. Probably. Instead, he pulled a pack of cigarettes from within his sash and lit one off the nearest torch. It would calm his nerves, at least.

Edited 2023-04-02 22:28 (UTC)

"If there were a bar in this place, it better serve drinks worth dying for," was the irreverent reply.

Dreamer Errant came out fully from beyond the corner, thumbs hooked in his biggest belt like they were just meeting on a stroll in the market.

"But nah, zilch on my part, too. Except for the big bad I think was forming some ways ahead." He nodded over his shoulder. "That felt a little much for me to try on my own, so I turned back."

"Aw damn, a big bad? Like, big big bad, or BIG big bad? Whatever, I guess it doesn't matter." Ango grit his teeth and grinned harder. "We're here for the paycheck, right? And there was nobody else coming from my direction... it's just us." He sucked in a lungful of nicotine and damp air, then exhaled a heavy sigh.

"Sooo... you got a cool weapon or powers or anything? Huge magic sword? Laser eyebeams? An AK-47 covered in glitter?" If the Slumbering City had attached itself to a city somewhere in America, there definitely would have been a lot fewer teen pop idols and a lot more guns.

"Ehh, not so much."

Faux casual, Errant lifted a hand. On its arc up, something materialized mid-twirl: a kunai made of the usual glass and sparkle-sand. He let it dance around his knuckles before gripping it and another two in a classically Naruto between-the-fingers hold.

"What I've got are a bunch of throwing knives and a can-do attitude," he declared with good cheer. "You?"

"...Same." Grimacing, Ango pulled a nearly identical set of glass-and-sand kunai from his belt. They were fucked, weren't they? He hadn't paid much attention during New Dreamer Orientation, but he vaguely remembered that a balanced team was supposed to have at least one of each of the Saver, Striker and Sentry types, not fucking all ninjas. "Shit, this is kinda embarrassing, isn't it? Like showing up to a wedding in the same dress."

He took a last drag from his cigarette, then tossed the butt onto the ground. It was time for hero shit. "Anyway, I'm An... oh, right, we're still doing code names. I'm Dreamer Decadence. So, what about ninja magic? Can you do the Naruto thing where you run around with your arms straight back?"

"You know they found that it really is faster to run that way?"

Was he kidding? Maybe. Grinning, he used his hand full of knives to prop up the other in front of his face, held two fingers up straight, and made a very convincing impression of an anime character about to unleash a special move.

"Anyhow, of course I can. And I've unlocked the teleport-no-jutsu, too, Deca-san." He didn't demonstrate, however. Instead, he let his knife hand fall confidently back to his side and rested the other on his hip. "I'm good for a sneak attack, or at least a distraction. And, in case you're worried, this isn't my first fight."

Ango brandished his knives and struck his own anime pose. He'd watched "Ninja Scroll" so many times as a kid that he'd worn out the videotape. "The Naruto thing really does work, but it looks so dumb that I hate doing it in front of people... but hey, we're all ninjas here, right?"

His own magic skillset was also geared towards sneaking and distraction - he was a professional writer, after all, so it was only fitting that his powers be based around the idea of illusion. When it came to actually dealing damage, Ango preferred his fists. He slammed one fist into his other palm enthusiastically. "I've been in a fair few fights myself, you know. I was the Niigata Prefecture middle school judo tournament champion back in 1998, so I've totally got this." He'd been in his share of bar fights, too, but he didn't mention those. Nobody actually won a bar fight. Everybody went home with their tails between their legs, vaguely ashamed of what they'd done. "So let's sneak up on this big bad and beat the shit out of it before it materializes fully. Sound good?"

(no subject)

kninja - 2023-04-06 17:16 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

darknesshotpot - 2023-04-09 07:07 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

kninja - 2023-04-17 20:52 (UTC) - Expand

"Ehh...? Are you defrauding the free stuff stalls again, Sakaguchi-kun?" Misato asked dryly as she began to spread her own blanket next to his. Unlike him, she has an actual blanket along with a tote bag for her own goodies (and the stuff she brought from home for the viewing).

"Eventually they're gonna catch you, you know that right?" She pops the tab on a can of beer as she sits, then takes a swig.

"Then what're you gonna do?"

"Uh oh, are you going to turn me over to the Fun Police?" Ango scoots closer to Misato's blanket, reaching for the 6-pack in her bag. If they're going to book him for theft, he might as well add public intoxication to the list of charges. And from there, well, who knows what kinds of crimes he could get up to with somebody like Misato?

"They've gotta give me my one phone call from the jailhouse, right? That's how it works on the foreign cop dramas. You'd better give me your number, just in case~"

With the sixth sense only an opportunist scavenger would have, Misfire spots Ango from across the park and makes a beeline for him. Whether they've met before or not doesn't matter, as the garishly dressed man speaks to him with the same level of familiarity.

"Hey loser, nice haul!" He speaks with a distinct American twang as he surveys the goods on display, "You got anyone to share it with?"

He tries to frame it as an innocent question, but his motives are transparently clear.

Ango looks up at the foreigner, grinning. "I'll split it with you... but these are stolen goods, so if you eat them you're an accomplice, you know?"

He can't actually afford to share, since he'll be sleeping on a park bench and living off pocket change until Monday when he can beg the Dreamer Union for a job... but Ango's always been the type to lend his friends money even when he knows they'll never pay it back. And this stranger already talks like an old friend.

Misfire grins in return, pleased that things have gone so smoothly. He knew this guy had the right vibes. With a click of his fingers, he points them into guns right at Ango.

“Since you’re being so generous, as thanks, I’m gonna dispose the hell out of your evidence.”

A declaration of eating all of somebody’s food framed as a favour. He truly is despicable.

Misfire takes a seat, the plastic bag he was carrying rattling slightly as it’s set down.

“So how ill-gotten are we talking? You shoplift these?”

He asks, reaching for the mochi first.

"Heh, shoplifting is for middle school brats. I'm the king of the delinquents, so I did something even more despicable..." Ango leans in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a theatrical whisper. "You see that community association table full of free snacks over there, where it says 'please take one per child?' I took one of everything. And then I went back through the line five more times. I think they were starting to catch on after the third time, so I put on a hat."

Ango tosses a can of beer to Misfire (those he actually had shoplifted) and laughs. "Eat up! We've got a lot of evidence to hide before those community association grannies report us to the park police."

Man, this guy was on another level entirely, and Misfire had to respect it. He’d only gone and taken a handful of free stuff; he hadn’t considered going up multiple times, with disguises no less. The difference between them was admirable.

In what’s an impressive feat of hand-eye coordination for him, Misfire actually catches the can as it’s tossed towards him, smirk plastered all over his face.

“Yessir!” With a salute he cracks open the beer, then quickly swipes a mochi - as if it’d get taken away if he’s not quick enough.

“So what’s your story, loser? Had no idea I was in the presence of royalty.“

Ango winces slightly, covering his grimace with a long swig of beer. What's his story? He doesn't even know anymore. He's spent the past decade-and-a-half of his life as a professional writer, collecting awards and cultivating a dubious reputation among the literary elite, and now he's completely run out of stories to tell.

"Oh, you know," he begins, waving his hand vaguely. "It's tough out there even for royalty. Do you have any idea what it costs to rent a modest castle in Tokyo these days? I can't even afford a one-bedroom with a pull-out sofa. But I heard there's some organization in this town that will hire you no questions asked if you have one of these..."

He pulls a Sandglass pendant out from inside his shirt and swings it so the deep purple sand within glitters with a rainbow of colors. "And all you have to do is put on a costume and fight dream monsters with magic! Sounds sketchy but it's totally legit, probably!"

TDM #1

Sakaguchi Ango | Dreamer Decadence | Bungou to Alchemist

I

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

II

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

I

no subject

i.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject