call me out v. 11.0

[misheard]

Call out one of the characters from my muselist with a starter, a prompt, a general 'hey can we do something with these characters' comment, a smoke signal, etc., and I'll get back to you with some kind of RP thread!

Comments

[goatsongs]

Done and done.

[Chuuya tosses some money on the bar - judging by the amount, he's been drinking for a while - then hops off his barstool.]

Pleasure doing business with you, ...?

[There's that expectant pause where Akutagawa is supposed to introduce himself.]

[mafiadog]

Akutagawa.

[No first name, of course. He’s gotta keep up his cover at least a little bit.

He finishes off his drink before paying his tab, and when he stands up from his chair he’s already looming again.]

After you.

[goatsongs]

[Looming seems like it's Akutagawa's default state.

Chuuya raises his eyebrows, but he waits until they're out of the bar to ask:]

Weird question, but are you named Akutagawa Ryuunosuke?

[mafiadog]

[Akutagawa stops dead in his tracks when he’s asked that, brows furrowing and hands clenching into fists in his pockets.]

Where did you hear that name?

[goatsongs]

One of my coworkers who looks nothing like you. And you're looking for one of your coworkers who doesn't look much like me.

[It was a question worth asking, as long as Akutagawa doesn't hit him for it or anything.]

[mafiadog]

It’s too much of a coincidence, but I hardly have time to question it. Let’s get going.

[The bar Chuuya leads him to will be fairly empty, with no sign of mafia Chuuya anywhere. Akutagawa huffs, and while he doesn’t normally indulge in alcohol for several reasons, he ends up ordering another Black Russian to take edge off his anger.]

Order whatever you like. I need a moment before we move on.

[goatsongs]

Take your time.

[Because the longer he takes, the more sake Chuuya gets to order.

Chuuya's already done with his first cup of sake when he decides to ask questions.]

Your coworker, does he do this a lot?

[mafiadog]

Yes. Far too often, in fact.

[Akutagawa sips at his drink, his resting bitch face relaxing a bit.]

He’s not terrible company, but I’m not fond of drunken antics, so you can imagine my frustration.

[He cuts his eyes to Chuuya.]

You both like hats. It’s strange.

[goatsongs]

It's a trademark of mine.

[There is a reason that that photo, in particular, became the one most associated with Nakahara Chuuya.]

Two short Nakahara Chuuyas who like hats and drinking, and are coworkers with someone named Akutagawa Ryuunosuke.

[mafiadog]

Strange.

[The more he drinks, the more he relaxes, and eventually he pulls out his phone to show Chuuya a picture of Mafia-Chuuya.

He wonders if he looks anything like this other Akutagawa.]

You can see the similarities.

[goatsongs]

[Chuuya nods - they're obviously different people, but they're similar in some ways.

It takes him a minute to even find a picture of author-Akutagawa on his phone, but once he does, he shows it to Akutagawa, revealing-]

Doesn't look like you at all.

[mafiadog]

[They look different, but this other Akutagawa is certainly handsome...]

I see.

[He finishes off his drink before standing up from his stool, a bit wobbly on his feet but not quite drunk yet.]

Next bar. Let’s go.

[goatsongs]

[Chuuya is either not drunk, or so used to being drunk that he doesn't have trouble walking. The next place they reach...]

No redheads here either. I never thought I'd say this, but there's too many bars in Yokohama.

[What a weird sentence to come out of his mouth.]

[mafiadog]

...of course.

[And that’s when Akutagawa feels his phone buzzing in his pocket, and he fishes it out only to be greeted with a text from Gin saying that Chuuya has made it back to HQ safe and sound.

...UGHGHHHG.

He wants to toss his phone to the ground and stomp all over it, but instead he shoves it back in his pocket before going to order himself another drink.]

My entire night has been wasted on this wild goose chase.

[Now what??]

...how long are you staying out?

[goatsongs]

[It's not hard to piece together what happened, and Chuuya almost winces in sympathy.]

At least another hour. Want another Black Russian? It's on me this time.

[Because he can't blame Akutagawa for being frustrated, and buying drinks is about the only way he knows how to cheer someone up.]

[mafiadog]

...yes.

[How could he turn down free booze when he’s this irritated?

He sips at yet another Black Russian, and oh boy, is he really about to socialize? In public?]

...What is your occupation?

[That’s a thing people ask each other, right?]

[goatsongs]

Poet.

[Yeah, okay, so shooting Taints isn't exactly the same thing as writing poetry, and maybe he should say 'library staff', but he doesn't care.]

What about you?

[The return question, significantly more awkward when talking to someone outside the mafia.]

[mafiadog]

I’m an assassin for the Mafia.

[WOW OKAY AKU.

He says it as casual as you please, sipping his drink all the while.]

[goatsongs]

[Welp.

Chuuya's eyebrows raise, and he's quiet for a second, before finally pronouncing his verdict on the fact that he's drinking with a mafioso:]

Huh. Interesting.

[And he has another drink of sake.]

[mafiadog]

[What an interesting reaction. There’s not a hint of fear within this other Chuuya...]

A poet...though you look like you’ve got combat experience. Odd.

[He won’t pry, but it’s certainly interesting.]

Should I call you Nakahara-san?

[goatsongs]

[Or he just doesn't give a shit, but he nods when Akutagawa suggests that he has combat experience.]

Nobody ever calls me by my last name, but I guess it'd make things easier. But if we were going by 'whatever you don't call your coworker', I'd be calling you Ryuunosuke-san.

[mafiadog]

No.

[Akutagawa looks none too pleased with that nickname.]

Just Akutagawa is fine.

[He takes another drink.]

Chuuya-san suits you better.

[goatsongs]

Figured you'd say something like that, Akutagawa-kun. You're probably a lot than me, the -kun is appropriate.

[Because he knows Akutagawa's about to complain.]

[mafiadog]

You don’t look much older.

[Looks can be deceiving of course.]

Fine. It works.

[He’s finished off another drink, and now he’s feeling tipsy.]

Chuuya-san...my coworker...is hellbent on drowning himself in alcohol to forget the man that both wronged us.

[goatsongs]

Thirty years old.

[And he'll insist on that no matter how young he looks.]

Aaah, so it's that kind of drinking? That might actually work, better than mine does anyway. Good luck to him.