View source for 2012-08-25 - Loaded: No One Knows the Hell Where Innocence Dies

'''LOADED: No One Knows the Hell Where Innocence Dies'''<br>
'''Featuring:''' [[Miyuu Noboriyama]] and [[Mariko Ohmukai]]<br>
'''IC Date:''' September 21, 2011<br>
'''OOC Date:''' August 25, 2012<br>
'''Location:''' Ohmukai apartment, Lunarvale<br>
'''Summary:''' Ambition begins to outstrip common sense.


'''Warning: textual nudity'''



So Miyuu got this new job, this special job, this extremely fucking suspicious job. The more she thinks about it, the more she's suspicious. The problem is that it's for Yamashita and she doesn't really know anyone else in Yashida-kai to follow up with, not without putting up with a whole lot of sexual harassment.

Unless--

Visiting Mariko doesn't mean an /absence/ of sexual harassment of course, but she has to wait until she's out of the hamster cafe to do it, and Miyuu might end up getting some conspicuously round ass out of the deal. So she texts Mariko, like five or six times, enough to indicate that this time she really actually needs a response and/or a booty call. Her location goal is Mariko's current apartment or whatever, but she's honestly not that picky.

And if the texts continue going unanswered she'll show up during business hours. Fortunately she's not the only gangster to frequent the cafe. Or Mariko.


Visiting the Hamster Cafe will tell Miyuu that Mariko called in sick for the day -- which staff seems to actually regard as highly unusual -- and that she's probably at home, resting. It's an opportunity to see the other employees of the Cafe in action. College students, mostly. People around Mariko's age. Sensible move; older people might resent her position of power despite looking all of fourteen.

Mariko is indeed at her apartment, which is spacious but sparsely decorated. She hasn't turned it into an unholy mess like the last one -- maybe it's because, without drugs, she needs things to do, and cleaning is just another way of marking time. There are a few bookshelves, already starting to fill up, and a new record player and a few records (classical music), and a real bed, and a kitchen that doesn't look like one giant slime factory. The only real sign of trouble is the hole in the bathroom door, still unfixed, like someone took a sledgehammer to it, and a variety of scuffing and scratching on the bare spots of floorboard. Then again, it is known locally as 'the murder place.'

Miyuu has a key -- Mariko made a big deal of giving her one, at some point, probably as a passive-aggressive attack on Miyuu's relationship with 'her landlord.' Mariko herself is in bed, the television set on, passed out next to a two-thirds empty bottle of wine.


Miyuu is actually kind of pissed off when Mariko doesn't answer her this time, this is /actually important/ not just making conversation or randomly asking about sex or otherwise communicating with her weird hookup. She orders a bubble tea to and swipes it from the co-ed's hand with equal rage, sipping it churlishly as she turns her bike towards whatever nook in Lunarvale qualifies as 'the murder place'.

She did take the key at least, because there was no way to refuse it and well, it was possible a situation like this would occur. Likely even. So she just unlocks the door, calling out as clomps in. "M-chan? M-chaaaaan?" She calls, hearing the TV faintly. She frowns.

She takes off her boots and heads for the bedroom, and stops. Then sort of smiles. Aww, that's almost cute. It's not a needle at least. She'll go check the wine bottle, then carry it away, maybe pour the rest of the contents into a plastic cup for herself. Which she'll hold in hand as she comes back into the bedroom and shakes Mariko to see if there's any life in her or if she should just light up a joint and wait.
Shake.

"Wake up goddammit."


Closer inspection of Mariko -- that is, once the blankets are shaken loose to reveal her nude upper body -- results in the discovery of injuries, already healing but still pink and tender. The marks are on her back, and a prominent one on her ass... BDSM gone a bit too rough, probably.

"Uh...?" Mariko mumbles dumbly as she starts to wake up. She blinks a few times and sees Miyuu. "--aaah!" she cries, lifting up, revealing most of the rest of herself, and acting as if Miyuu was some kind of invading ghost--

--or just clutching her throat, covering it, suddenly and painfully aware that her least favorite body part is on display. "M-Miyuu-chan!" Mariko croaks, stumbling -- still a little drunk -- in her semi-prone position to reach for a scarf on a bedside table and, while turned away, begin to tie it. "What the hell?!"


"You gave me a key." Miyuu reminds irritably. Truth be told she hadn't really ever gotten a close look at the throatscar before now, but she won't draw attention to it further while Mariko covers up. She just drinks the leftover wine.

"You do Yashida-kai right?" The particular verb she uses, the tense, implies sexual activity, which, looking over Mariko's back suggests that she's been doing something lately. And Miyuu might have just the tiniest spark of jealousy in her still, so she peevishly drapes herself over the bed, resting against the wall.


The scarf is tied just well enough to cover up Mariko's throat. She doesn't try to make a cute bow or anything, so the effect is that Mariko is now in bed wearing only a scarf, as if she was concerned about catching a chill at a nudist colony. The bed is more than large enough for two, even if it's not exactly princessly -- it looks like an Ikea piece, something lugged home and slapped together for cheap.

Mariko huffs quietly at the reminder, and goes into a drawer to find a cigarette. She bends over while doing so -- so it's while she's in that offering pose that she's asked whether or not she does Yashida-kai.

Lighting the cigarette, Mariko slumps back down, next to Miyuu. "Irie-san said I could only keep my three highest-paying clients. One of them is Yashida-sama, yeah. Why?" Mariko doesn't quite seem comfortable -- the marks on her back make her shift around until the pillows couch her just right.


Miyuu will just prop herself against the wall using one of the pillows fairly roughly and watch Mariko. Watch her while she gets a cigarette, as she flops back down, wriggles until she's comfortable. "Man, he's setting all kinda bullshit on you." She says, half-sarcastically. Obviously the hamster cafe is a full time job.

She sips at the wine a bit, needing the drink. "You know Yamashita-san, the accountant guy at all?" She queries. "He contacted me about a job today, it's weird. And he's fat."


Mariko just lets out an uncommitted whine at the comment on Masahiko's treatment of her. Those whines are a bad habit -- when her voice was (let's just say it) prettier, they almost sounded cute and kittenish. Now they sound like a gear in her throat is broken. "He's trying to make me into..." Mariko has a bit of a slur. That wine didn't just evaporate. "...something," she finishes, waving a hand.

"He is fat," Mariko agrees. "Whiny, too. He's one of... Yashida-sama's top guys. Comes along on all the fancy dinners and stuff." The fancy dinners where Mariko is paid to look cute, dress slutty, and talk dumbly. "I knew you worked for them, ha," Mariko says, slouching a bit more until she's finally just laying flat. "Whenever they talk about couriers 'the biker dyke' comes up. Ha ha ha." Mariko laughs, but in a lethargic way, like she only finds it just funny enough.


"Men do that." Miyuu grumbles. "S'why they're useless." To her anyway. Which limits her advancement in certain key respects within the organization, unless she is willing to become fantastically violent. And--well, experience suggests that's not really Miyuu's path in life.
Miyuu wrinkles her nose a bit at being 'the biker dyke', but it does mean she stands out a little? But they don't mean it nicely. "Fuckers." She summarizes simply. "I do good work for them. And their competition. Because fuck all those assholes." She drinks more of Mariko's wine. "Anyway Yamashita gave me a special job today, said he'd pay triple, remember my face, all that, while sweating like a giant pig. Gave me a paper and said they'd send me the usual text but to go to this other place instead. It's weird, something doesn't seem right. If they just wanted to change the location there's other guys they'd have ask me."


Mariko brings her knees up as she listens and smokes. Her eyes keep fluttering shut, but she always catches herself from lolling back to sleep. As Miyuu speaks, she seems tranquil -- which is better than some other states she could be, for sure -- until she starts getting to the end of her tale.

By the climax, Mariko is staring up and over at Miyuu as if Miyuu had just told her that Yamashita was building a spaceship and had invited the biker to go visit Mars.

There is a long moment of silence as Mariko processes this -- speeds slowed due to drink -- and then a sharp cry of pain. Her cigarette, held idly and left to smolder, has crumbled and dropped ash onto her breast. Mariko hops up, swatting at herself, swearing, making annoyed sounds, hissing. It's a funny dance but it ends quickly, because in between yelps and ahhhs and sssses Mariko bleats, "Why would he-- That's not right!"


Miyuu remains languidly sprawled out over Mariko's bed, watching the other girl's reactions in case she needs to swat her awake. It wouldn't be the first time.

Of course by the end of the story Mariko has dropped ash on her boob and Miyuu is laughing at her distress. Until Mariko speaks and Miyuu sobers again quickly, sitting up a bit herself.

"I know it's weird right? But what's going wrong here? I'm supposed to meet some new people too, some 'Susumu' and a gaijin they just call 'Lady', I don't know what the fuck. It seems off, but I only got Yamashita to call to check up on things."


Mariko groans and stubs the cigarette out in an ashtray. The advantage of her apartment is that ashtrays are everywhere -- the disadvantages is that always does kind of smell like Marlboro reds in the place.

"The system, the, um," Mariko thinks, adjusting her scarf to make sure it's on straight but making no attempt to cover her nudity otherwise. "Where you do the texts, and no actual... contact between his guys and the guys from wherever, that's what Yashida-sama came up with." Mariko knowing this much about 'the system' is maybe a bit like confessing that she has revelatory CCTV tapes -- out of nowhere and a bit creepy, perhaps.

"And Yamashita-san and Yashida-sama, they... well, they hate each other," Mariko says, crawling back onto the bed, on all fours, toward Miyuu. She looks the biker in the eyes, seeming actually alarmed. "Where's the address? Because if Yamashita-san is breaking Yashida-sama's system, it's... not..."


"Uh...hold on." Miyuu looks back at Mariko, also feeling a bit of concern now. She fumbles the paper out of her jacket and works through the code to get the address. "A warehouse it looks like? A different warehouse than the other one."

Her eyes flick back up to Mariko, a bit alarmed herself now. Yamashita-san shouldn't be hating his boss and drawing Miyuu into it, that is not cool. "I mean I see the advantages to the system but--what the fuck, the fuck." She frowns.


Mariko has to think for a moment, eyes flitting downward -- toward Miyuu's knee, but that's mostly just coincidence. "That's Sumiyoshi-kai territory," is all she says, before sitting up on her knees, resting her butt on her heels and giving Miyuu a puzzled, troubled stare.


Miyuu is quiet while Mariko thinks, drinking down all the wine finally. She sets the cup down with a clack, staring back at her sometime lover. "Well ain't that a kick in the clit." She finally decides. "Yamashita-san's talking out of school." Or that's sure what it seems like. "Dunno if he's screwing me on a normal delivery, to send me a normal text, probably. Show them his phone all 'please Yashida-sama i don't know'." She mimes holding a phone in the air, making a falsetto voice, holding her hand under her neck to indicate jiggling of excess bodyweight. Then she falls back into a thunderous scowl. "Fuuuuuck."


Mariko lets out a sniff of laughter at the impression of Yamashita-san, but seems too quietly agitated to much more than that. She has to think, her eyes still trailing down, her dark hair messy from sleep. Too much going on. She closes her eyes for a long few moments.

Breathing regularly and shallowly, Mariko finally crawls forward, pushing Miyuu's legs down so that she can climb onto the other girl and straddle her at the hips. Her hands set on Miyuu's shoulders.

"So..." Mariko asks, her eyes sly, her lips almost curling into a cruel smile. "...what do we do about it?"


Miyuu's last expletive was kind of the same question, but without solutions. She isn't even fuzzed, she's agitated and trying to think through the scenario, think what contacts she still has, think about just disappearing again, to somewhere else once more. Tokyo's mostly out but maybe--Osaka--Or somewhere else. North Japan sucks but--

Her train of thought is interrupted by Mariko climbing on top of her, a sensation she knows to recognize by now. "From your face I think you have some kind of idea." She decides, and slides her hands down to clamp at Mariko's hips, metal of her chains cold against the other girl's thighs.


Mariko's thighs tense at the sensation of the chains on them. It's not unfamiliar. It's not unwelcome, either. She looks up, toward the ceiling, and lets out a bruised musical note -- her singing voice is diminished for by now obvious reasons.

"I think we should take it all," Mariko finally purrs, sounding genuinely excited by the idea, her eyes glinting with mischief, her smile unable to be held in. "And poor Yamashita-san will have to deal with it, while we... swim in the yen and laugh, and laugh." Mariko giggles, girlishly, lifting one hand to cover her mouth politely.


"And laugh, huh." Miyuu looks a bit aghast at first at the idea of ripping off Yamashita-san. It'd be a bad thing, a hard deal, a rough trade. "Who we gonna sell to though, all the clients are his." She asks, points out. Her thumbs caress over Mariko's stomach just the same, as she considers the idea, considers just once, holding one of those bricks herself, taking it out of its little package...She's been off the nod for years now, but that doesn't mean she can't hear the song. "Giving that fat fuck a meatspin just might be worth it."


"Miyuu-chan," Mariko coos, as if the biker is being silly. She strokes the other woman's hair, and purses her lips in a gentle pout. "There's always a market for things like that... if you just look past the obvious choices." Mariko breathes deeply. "We can worry about it later. If we do it, he takes the heat... if we don't, you will, baby. He'll say you ran off with some other client... And we wouldn't want anyone to think you're unfaithful, would we?" Mariko's finger hooks in the collar of Miyuu's t-shirt, as if issuing a challenge.


Miyuu gives a sardonic sort of smile to Mariko's hair-stroking. She knows better than that image of the hostess-girl praise, but she's swayed by the temptation nonetheless. "You're right if we don't..." she mutters. "He's trying to set me up, and i can't just...let him." She grips Mariko's hips hard and thrusts her hips upwards once, sharply. "I wouldn't want anyone to accuse me of being unfaithful. At least not if I don't get paid a lot out of it." More than triple.


Mariko doesn't respond other than to fix her eyes to Miyuu's and let her smile spread into something sinister and alluring. Her body lowers.

Miyuu Noboriyama's Charm has increased!

[[Category:Logs]]