[ you know what's a good way to not sleep at all? be told that you've been shoved into a game where you or your co-workers can actually die, all led by none other than the boss of the port mafia.
or executive.
that somehow knows him.
that isn't dead.
oda doesn't get it. and every time he tries to think about it, all he ends up getting is a headache and an itch to simply take out the cause of it. but apparently that's going to have more negative consequences in the long run-- not to add the strange feeling, like a constant deja-vu.
it's that bunch of emotions that have him pacing close to dazai's room, unsure of how to confront him or if this is even a good idea in the first place. there's much that he wants to know, but part of him feels like that might just be a mistake.
but, against those warnings and his own common sense, oda brings himself to knock. ]
[Fortunately for him, Dazai is actually awake at that late hour. He's never slept that well, and he only really crashes into bed when he's too exhausted to do anything else.
When the door is opened, Oda will be able to see a desk close to one of the walls. Said desk has several books and documents strewn about it. It looks like Dazai had been working when Oda came to knock on his door.]
Ah, Oda-san! What brings you here this late?
[He's smiling, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.]
[ oda takes note of the messy room, but not as much as he notices dazai's false smile. it...makes oda feel something, something he can't define. similar to earlier in the afternoon. ]
It's about this game and what you plan on turning it into.
Well come on in then, there's no need to have that conversation in the hall.
[Indeed, he will step aside and let Oda in.
There is an open parlor area, with a couple couches and a low table. Off to one side of the room is a taller table with some booze bottles on it, all still mostly-full. On another wall is a door, which presumably goes to another part of his quarters, maybe his bedroom? And there is also a table and desk chair to one side, which appears to be a working space. All of the walls are lined with bookshelves, which are full of countless books.
Dazai goes over to the couch once the door is closed, and he'll plop right down on it. Oda doesn't have to sit on the same couch, but the invitation to sit is there.]
[ oda steps in, but doesn’t sit down at all, instead choosing to stay standing close to the door. nevertheless, his gaze can’t help but focus on the bookshelves. part of him wants to go check, but letting his guard down isn’t an option.
i never planned on setting a trap for you in the first place, wasn’t that what that dazai had said in the bar? ]
Since about three hours before I met all of you. I arrived on one of the last trucks bringing up supplies.
[There is a table with several bottles of expensive booze on them, as well as glasses and a small ice maker, but it seems like none of them have been opened yet.]
[ oda glances at the table, lowkey wondering if dazai was going to have a guest soon and then why someone would come here at this time of the night.
but he's here, so maybe it isn't so ridiculous.
he pushes those thoughts aside and turns his gaze directly towards dazai. ]
I don't know why you're alive or why both times we've met you've talked to me like a close friend, but that also doesn't matter right now. [ no, his personal turmoil doesn't matter when there are real lives at stake. ] I want to know why you've chosen to do this.
[ if oda's annoyed by dazai's response, he doesn't show it, instead keeping his expression neutral. my odasaku...
and beyond that-- ]
I can't believe that. I know that can't be true.
[ oda shakes his head, leaning against the closed door. he's never been as good of a detective as the others in the agency, and he's certain that someone like ranpo or yosano could have seen through dazai in a flash. he can't do that--but he has enough skills to know that this is a paper thin truth. ]
Don't you see how ridiculous this is? This is no longer about containing an SCP, but simply that the Foundation wants to prove, one way or another, that we're a danger. And with these changes, you're practically giving that to them on a silver platter.
It certainly seems like that, doesn't it? After all, the Host controls the pace of the game, and I could throw impossible demands at all of you until you turn on each other in an attempt to survive. I could really show how selfish and self-centered everyone here is.
That would be a sight, wouldn't it? Surely the O5s would be pleased with that.
[His tone is light, but his eyes are dead inside.]
he considers the distance between himself and dazai and the bottles on the table. he considers how they could not only serve as blunt weapons but also, once broken, as sharp ones. it could be so easy to rid this place of this threat, even without his pistols.
it shows in a killing intent that contrasts heavily with his otherwise calm demeanor. ]
You wouldn't be pleased with it, though.
[ with a heavy sigh, oda dispels his emotions away, letting himself walk over to the table. he picks a bottle of whiskey and serves two glasses with ice--one of which he gives to dazai. why he does this gesture, he doesn't know. it doesn't matter. ]
If you wanted efficiency, then you would've found a way to have us killing each other since this afternoon-- that much I know about how the Port Mafia operates. They put efficiency above anything else. But you don't care about that, in this case. You probably don't even care about what the Foundation wants in the first place.
[ oda moves the whiskey glass in his hand, his gaze fixed on the ice that clinks against the borders. ]
I might be wrong...but you're doing this for yourself. To prove or witness something for yourself, beyond the Foundation's desires.
[An interesting fact: when Oda lets out that killing intent, he won't get a vision. Because Dazai makes no move to counter or protect himself.
Another interesting fact: he takes take drink and drinks it with no hesitation. There isn't even a hint of worry about the drink being poisoned, or Oda attacking him while he's sipping it.
A third interesting fact: the swallow there, right after Oda says that last bit? It's a bit harder than he meant it to be.]
And you deduced all of that from the fact that I was in the port mafia before coming here? Those certainly are some conclusions you're leaping to.
It's just a hunch. [ oda takes his first sip of the drink, waiting for any eventual vision of him being poisoned. it never comes, though, which is an odd but pleasant surprise. it'd be a shame to poison whiskey. ]
What you said back then...it didn't make much sense. If I were a better detective, like Ranpo, I would've been able to see through most of it with just a single glance. But I'm not, so-- [ he takes another sip, followed by a shrug. ] all I can do is guess, like you said.
[The way he says that quietly with his gaze focused on the glass in his hand, he's clearly saying something to himself. Or, more accurately, repeating words he has heard in the past. But Oda can still hear them if he's listening closely enough.]
[ of course oda hears those words and can't help but feel a little uncomfortable by it. almost as if dazai was seeing through his mind and even his very soul, somehow aware of all the things that make him "oda", even right down to how desperate he is to redeem himself.
oda nods. ]
Something like that. It's a lifestyle I've been trying to follow for a while now.
I don't think I need to be a detective to know who this "friend" is.
[ he takes another sip of his drink before setting it down, his back still pressed against the door. ]
I'm not him. I don't know you and we're not friends, although both you and-- [ he hesitates, still trying to wrap his head around the dazai of the oh so similar, yet so different world that atsushi described. ] and the other you acted like I was. But if I'm as similar to that "Odasaku" as what you two thought, then...I think he'd be disappointed.
[He seems to accept it this time, though. There isn't a big reaction like there was in public. Instead there's barely a pause before he speaks, and his tone stays even.]
You're right, he would be. I suppose it's a good thing he's not here to see any of this.
[ oda looks down at the remainder of his drink, feeling both exhausted and somewhat sick. even if the whiskey isn't poisoned, the atmosphere, their very conversation sure is.
he feels oddly helpless, and he doesn't like it.
but he nods, regardless. ]
Then I'll just try it again tomorrow. Until you understand what I mean.
You really make no sense. [ he downs the rest of the drink, setting the glass on a nearby table, while still looking visibly troubled by all of this. ] I'll be here tomorrow. Get some sleep.
[ without really waiting for dazai to say anything oda leaves the room, closing the door behind him. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
really fucking late, saturday
or executive.
that somehow knows him.
that isn't dead.
oda doesn't get it. and every time he tries to think about it, all he ends up getting is a headache and an itch to simply take out the cause of it. but apparently that's going to have more negative consequences in the long run-- not to add the strange feeling, like a constant deja-vu.
it's that bunch of emotions that have him pacing close to dazai's room, unsure of how to confront him or if this is even a good idea in the first place. there's much that he wants to know, but part of him feels like that might just be a mistake.
but, against those warnings and his own common sense, oda brings himself to knock. ]
no subject
When the door is opened, Oda will be able to see a desk close to one of the walls. Said desk has several books and documents strewn about it. It looks like Dazai had been working when Oda came to knock on his door.]
Ah, Oda-san! What brings you here this late?
[He's smiling, but the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes.]
no subject
[ oda takes note of the messy room, but not as much as he notices dazai's false smile. it...makes oda feel something, something he can't define. similar to earlier in the afternoon. ]
It's about this game and what you plan on turning it into.
no subject
[Indeed, he will step aside and let Oda in.
There is an open parlor area, with a couple couches and a low table. Off to one side of the room is a taller table with some booze bottles on it, all still mostly-full. On another wall is a door, which presumably goes to another part of his quarters, maybe his bedroom? And there is also a table and desk chair to one side, which appears to be a working space. All of the walls are lined with bookshelves, which are full of countless books.
Dazai goes over to the couch once the door is closed, and he'll plop right down on it. Oda doesn't have to sit on the same couch, but the invitation to sit is there.]
no subject
i never planned on setting a trap for you in the first place, wasn’t that what that dazai had said in the bar? ]
Since when have you been here?
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[There is a table with several bottles of expensive booze on them, as well as glasses and a small ice maker, but it seems like none of them have been opened yet.]
no subject
[ oda glances at the table, lowkey wondering if dazai was going to have a guest soon and then why someone would come here at this time of the night.
but he's here, so maybe it isn't so ridiculous.
he pushes those thoughts aside and turns his gaze directly towards dazai. ]
I don't know why you're alive or why both times we've met you've talked to me like a close friend, but that also doesn't matter right now. [ no, his personal turmoil doesn't matter when there are real lives at stake. ] I want to know why you've chosen to do this.
no subject
[That's the closest he's going to get to admitting that he's actually upset over Oda not recognizing him.]
I'm here because they asked me to be. They said I would be a good fit for this job, and I took the position.
...my Odasaku would know why, beyond that. But since you're not him, you will have to keep guessing.
no subject
and beyond that-- ]
I can't believe that. I know that can't be true.
[ oda shakes his head, leaning against the closed door. he's never been as good of a detective as the others in the agency, and he's certain that someone like ranpo or yosano could have seen through dazai in a flash. he can't do that--but he has enough skills to know that this is a paper thin truth. ]
Don't you see how ridiculous this is? This is no longer about containing an SCP, but simply that the Foundation wants to prove, one way or another, that we're a danger. And with these changes, you're practically giving that to them on a silver platter.
no subject
That would be a sight, wouldn't it? Surely the O5s would be pleased with that.
[His tone is light, but his eyes are dead inside.]
no subject
he considers the distance between himself and dazai and the bottles on the table. he considers how they could not only serve as blunt weapons but also, once broken, as sharp ones. it could be so easy to rid this place of this threat, even without his pistols.
it shows in a killing intent that contrasts heavily with his otherwise calm demeanor. ]
You wouldn't be pleased with it, though.
[ with a heavy sigh, oda dispels his emotions away, letting himself walk over to the table. he picks a bottle of whiskey and serves two glasses with ice--one of which he gives to dazai. why he does this gesture, he doesn't know. it doesn't matter. ]
If you wanted efficiency, then you would've found a way to have us killing each other since this afternoon-- that much I know about how the Port Mafia operates. They put efficiency above anything else. But you don't care about that, in this case. You probably don't even care about what the Foundation wants in the first place.
[ oda moves the whiskey glass in his hand, his gaze fixed on the ice that clinks against the borders. ]
I might be wrong...but you're doing this for yourself. To prove or witness something for yourself, beyond the Foundation's desires.
no subject
Another interesting fact: he takes take drink and drinks it with no hesitation. There isn't even a hint of worry about the drink being poisoned, or Oda attacking him while he's sipping it.
A third interesting fact: the swallow there, right after Oda says that last bit? It's a bit harder than he meant it to be.]
And you deduced all of that from the fact that I was in the port mafia before coming here? Those certainly are some conclusions you're leaping to.
no subject
What you said back then...it didn't make much sense. If I were a better detective, like Ranpo, I would've been able to see through most of it with just a single glance. But I'm not, so-- [ he takes another sip, followed by a shrug. ] all I can do is guess, like you said.
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[Sorry, he's got to point that out here.]
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[ sorry dazai, he doesn’t care. ]
But I don’t regret coming here either. If I can help them make it out alive, then it’s worth putting myself at risk, no matter how many times.
no subject
[The way he says that quietly with his gaze focused on the glass in his hand, he's clearly saying something to himself. Or, more accurately, repeating words he has heard in the past. But Oda can still hear them if he's listening closely enough.]
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[ of course oda hears those words and can't help but feel a little uncomfortable by it. almost as if dazai was seeing through his mind and even his very soul, somehow aware of all the things that make him "oda", even right down to how desperate he is to redeem himself.
oda nods. ]
Something like that. It's a lifestyle I've been trying to follow for a while now.
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THEY'RE BFFS
DAZAI MIGHT AS WELL BE WEARING HALF OF THAT CHARM BRACELET]
It sounds like something a friend of mine would say, which is why I thought of it.
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[ he takes another sip of his drink before setting it down, his back still pressed against the door. ]
I'm not him. I don't know you and we're not friends, although both you and-- [ he hesitates, still trying to wrap his head around the dazai of the oh so similar, yet so different world that atsushi described. ] and the other you acted like I was. But if I'm as similar to that "Odasaku" as what you two thought, then...I think he'd be disappointed.
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[He seems to accept it this time, though. There isn't a big reaction like there was in public. Instead there's barely a pause before he speaks, and his tone stays even.]
You're right, he would be. I suppose it's a good thing he's not here to see any of this.
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[ oda thinks about it for a moment, taking in dazai's reaction--or rather, the lack thereof--with an equally even expression.
his chest aches slightly, and he doesn't know why. ]
You don't have to play this role. There must be other options--something that he'd be more proud of.
no subject
[If he can focus less on his feelings and more on what needs to be done, then maybe he can forget about all the pain he feels.]
The game needs a host, after all. Pride has little to do with it. We all have our roles to play here, and I will play mine dutifully.
no subject
[ oda looks down at the remainder of his drink, feeling both exhausted and somewhat sick. even if the whiskey isn't poisoned, the atmosphere, their very conversation sure is.
he feels oddly helpless, and he doesn't like it.
but he nods, regardless. ]
Then I'll just try it again tomorrow. Until you understand what I mean.
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[The implication being that he'll do it so Oda keeps coming back to talk to him. Negative attention is better than no attention, he supposes.]
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You really make no sense. [ he downs the rest of the drink, setting the glass on a nearby table, while still looking visibly troubled by all of this. ] I'll be here tomorrow. Get some sleep.
[ without really waiting for dazai to say anything oda leaves the room, closing the door behind him. ]