2026-06-14: What Else Goes Bump in the Night
- Log: What Else Goes Bump in the Night
- Cast: Umie Akabane, Noriaki Okaga
- Where: Triple 7, Shibuya
- OOC Date: June 14, 2026
- IC Date: November 24, 2012
- Summary: When there's a visitor at the Triple 7 during the Dark Hour, you best hope it's not the NWO, the Joker Killer, or Strega. Umie has now experienced all three, though she and Noriaki are more inclined to yowl at each other like stray cats than actually fight.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
With a stifling hush of silence, the Dark Hour has arrived.
The lights in the Triple 7 go from 'daylight equivalent' to green black, setting well against dark red. Outside, what would be a gibbous moon has become something that may or may not be something as hump-backed, displacing that sense of time.
Which naturally means that Umie's not on the clock.
While the rise in sudden violent water pipe breaks has suspiciously gone up when Umie's night shifts seem to happen, all in all, no one's made the connection. There's only been, like, what, one event like that?
Some nikuman buns have been taken out of the display case and put on a plate, which is in turn placed atop some old advertisements to keep her workspace neat and tidy. Umie cracks open a soda and downs it gladly, sighing with relief as she wipes possibly red liquid from her mouth.
An egg timer ticks diligently at one side, as Umie digs into some buns.
Really, aside from the less than zero chance that a shadow will manifest inside the store at any second, or the even higher chance of one banging against the window, it's rather nice. She doubts anyone'd really agree with that, though.
Really, the worst part is the compulsion to take out her phone and look through it, then remember it won't work. You'd think she'd get used to that, having had this be her life for a giant chunk of it.
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
It happens like clockwork, every day. Once the time passes to that particular point, here is the time of monsters.
There are very few humans that wander the darkness of this hour. Most slumber unaware, peacefully sliding past the pit of darkness that has welled upwards from the depths of the eternal sea.
But some do not.
To that end...
...the door to the Triple 7 jingles, the little bell ringing out all the more against the echoing silence of the eternal night.
Something, no, someone has come to this place when not another person should be about.
A shadow falls over Umie at the front.
"Tch... awake, huh? Can't say if I'm lucky, or unlucky," rumbles the voice from the figure that looms over her. Both of his hands are jammed into the front pocket of his hoodie. His face, but for his mouth, is hidden from sight. He's grinning down at Umie, somewhat toothily.
"Ain't suppose you feel like sharing, sister? On a night like this, a man gets a little hungry!" He laughs, as if at some private joke.
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
Dark Hour is when monsters come into ordinary, mundane spaces.
The only difference from any other hour is that these ones Umie can be rude to.
The jingling door startles Umie, her nikuman slipping from her suddenly stiffened, anxious fingers.
It takes a moment for Umie to recognize the man, but a second is all that it takes for those adrenaline-laced memories to run through her mind.
Yep. Okaga. That guy. Strega. Willing to side with anyone for shits and giggles when the situation's right, like... uh, against those hunters. Also, someone who's likely killed people, given how he's taken people from their coffins and exposed them to the Dark Hour.
Umie wonders if he knows what she knows, what everyone found out, that fateful day that giant Shadow was unleashed on Aoba Park.
She wonders, also, if he recognizes her.
She wonders if he even cares.
She sighs.
If he had come in an hour or so earlier (not that she's sure if the Dark Hour really holds itself to being strictly an hour), he'd be another customer. That was the deal she made with herself that first demon walked into her first (or was it second?) night shift.
Well.
_She's_ the one in control here. She may as well enjoy it.
"You're going to have to pay for it." Umie interlaces her fingers together. "But I'm an understanding sort of person. After all," she says, her eyebrows raising slightly, "I believe you guys suffered a death in the past few months. I'm sure, if you give me some information, maybe some hot gossip, I could spare some nikuman." She raises a red nailed finger, closing one eye. "It needs to be good, though. I can only spare a few nikuman before it gets noticed, after all..."
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
The last time he'd seen Umie, she'd been in a mask.
But that doesn't mean he doesn't recognize her when she does speak to him again. His lips spread in a wider, wider grin.
"So it is you, sister!" he says, stretching one hand out towards Umie as she says he'll have to pay for it. "So this's where you've been holed up, eh... crow-girl?" He leans forward, as if to study her just a little more closely from under that hood.
"Ain't sure what I was expectin', under that mask," Noriaki remarks, before straightening up into his full slouching height. "But here we are, just the two of us! ...Actually," he says, his mouth tugging into something of a frown, "ain't you also that girly who shouted at me that one time?" He sighs, shrugging as if to implore of the heavens themselves a measure of grace. "A poor, hungry man! Heh. Seems like time ain't made you any more charitable!"
She is offering a trade, though.
Noriaki rubs at his bearded chin thoughtfully.
"You heard about that, eh? Ain't you a nosy girly, sister," he tells Umie, shaking his head. "What's keeping me from helping myself anyhow, eh?," he continues, gesturing at the products. "If I'd a mind to it, I wouldn't even mind a round two." He breathes in, then exhales sharply.
"But I'm hungry, see," he tells Umie, planting both hands on the counter with a thunk. "And here I'm thinkin', it's a pain in the damn ass if I fight on an empty stomach, or whatever." His mouth again splits in a grin. "So I'm also thinkin', maybe, if crow-girl sweetens the pot some, maybe I'll feel like playing along with her." One hand stretches out.
"Ante up, sister. You know more than I do... right?"
"But don't be thinking, just because we lost a buddy of ours, that we're feeling lost and lonely. We learned a thing of two from our 'uncle', all right..."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
'So it is you, sister!' "--eh?" Umie's face flattens comedically, her response coming as a brief exhale of pure confusion and frustration over her hubris. ... Once again, Umie Akabane is her own worst enemy. For all her abilities allow her some anonymity, it's her own lack of foresight that allows it to be easily breached. She is no Phantom Thief, not by a long shot.
_Crow-girl?_ Oh god Noriaki remembers her, alright.
So that's why she is there, blinking with a confused, surprised expression on her face, all the subtlety and layers rudely drawn back like an inconsiderate lover hogging all the sheets. And she sticks like that, for a good second. "... I got... more than one job," she says, stifling a groan against her sleeved, mostly covered lower hand. "Just... do me a favor and don't mess with me during the day, okay?"
She's not what he expected, under the mask, he says. "You and me both," she mutters under her breath, flatly. "Unfortunately, there's a 'no-mask' policy here. But just for employees."
Is she that one girl who shouted at him that one time? "Well, I *may* have, but I'm not sure I'd be the only one," Umie casually says, before sipping her drink. "You guys *do* do some pretty terrible things..."
.... why is she humoring this again? Ah right, information, she thinks, as Noriaki thumps both his hands on the counter.
This is getting dangerous. She should be more careful.
Oops. Too late. Umie's moving forward. "I mean, you *do* call me 'crow-girl', so as I see it, I'm just embodying the role better." She gives Noriaki a blackbird sort of smile, just a little too sharp for the situation, heedless of the danger.
'You know more than I do... right?' "I don't know, do I?" Umie murmurs as she leans forward, placing her chin on her upturned hands. "If I knew more, you think I'd be doing this for a living?"
She regards the outstretched hand.
"You can start by telling me what he told you," she says, calmly. "And I'll decide if it's worth a nikuman."
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
She's got more than one job, she says.
Noriaki grins at her, toothily. "So do I, girly," he tells Umie, and one might get the impression that he's just about leering at her from under the shadows of his hoodie. What is it that Strega's website advertises that they do as a part-time job, again...?
Umie then asks him, in a manner of speaking, for a 'favor'.
"Gimme one of your buns," he says, and he doesn't mean her hair, "and I'll think about doing you a favor for work hours, sister. I ain't feeling all that charitable on an empty stomach!"
There's a no mask policy, she explains.
"You ain't exactly on the clock, now, are ya?" Noriaki says to Umie, leaning that much further across the counter. "As for me, eh, well..."
He shrugs, without straightening himself out. His gaze, one presumes, is still fixed on her. They do some pretty terrible things, right.
"Yeah," he tells her. "Lots of terrible, awful things."
That grin of his hasn't changed in the slightest.
Umie opts to try to play it cool. "Ice cold, girly," he tells her, shaking his head. "You know what happens to crows, right? They can fly pretty well, sure. Right up until the cat gets 'em! So lemme ask you again, in case you ain't heard me the first time..."
He straightens, such that this is for a man who seems to slouch as matter of course. "...hand it over, girly! Maybe I can remember all sorts of things. But a poor starving bastard's gotta have his memory jogged first, eh?"
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"As someone well-acquainted with the Dark Hour, I'm sure there's so many better things you could do besides ripping people from their coffins," Umie says, flatly.
However, she'll extend Noriaki the same benefit she would have a demon, back during her night shifts in Sumaru City.
.... Mainly because, for all Umie's blustering, she's pretty sure Noriaki is likely carrying more than one means of defending himself. However, by the same token, just like with a demon, she has to show she's not a pushover, either.
In a way, a demon would be easier, given to extremes and theatre compared to the more complex ways a human being can be.
'Give me one of your buns.' Umie plants a red-nailed hand over her mouth in mock shock. "O-oh my... I-if you insist..." she says, in a mocking rendition of a blushing school girl, as she reaches up towards one of the hair buns that sit on either side of her hat.
When Noriaki bends over the counter like a hung over scarecrow in a hoodie, Umie drops the act.
He's got the right of it; Umie's about towards the end of where she can negotiate and tease without creating an even larger problem.
"Finnnnnnnnnne," she says, with an exasperated sigh, as she grabs a nikuman with a napkin, sliding it across the counter. "Hope you like pork."
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
"Yeah? You think so?" He laughs. "News for you, sister, we can do whatever we want. Who's gonna stop us?" He pauses, as if eyeing her. "You? All the time? ...There's only one way you're gonna stop me, girly."
He straightens, baring his chest as if almost daring her to have a go. Right here, right now, in the darkness of this hour.
But a body in the Dark Hour doesn't just 'disappear', doesn't it? When reality resumes, if she takes care of him here and now, he'll...
And that's assuming she gets in that one good hit. That's assuming he's not able to return the same in kind.
He's openly goading her, daring her to do it.
He wants one of her buns. Her hair, she suggests, which earns Umie her first scowl. "I don't want your hair, girly. Give me food," Noriaki tells her, gesturing at her as if to urge her on.
But she drops the act and hands him over one nikuman. It's pork.
This doesn't seem to bother him at all.
He snatches it up. He's not precious about eating it, scarfing it as if he hasn't had a thing in days.
"Not bad," Noriaki tells Umie, rubbing his mouth on his sleeve. "Now, let's hear what you've got. Maybe I can do you a trade. Hand me another one of those buns, and I'll see what I feel like telling you."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"I can't stop you all the time, yeah." Umie leans back on her stool, doubling on the behaviors she's not allowed during the Dark Hour: sitting at the register, and leaning on it. "But." She holds up a finger. "I can make your life harder." Dark eyelashes lower over red-brown eyes. "And I'm not the only one, either~"
She should stop there. She's made her point.
However, the Badb in her wants more. It wants to draw blood, but not in the way Noriaki tries to encourage. Umie knows her odds, and where her strengths lie.
This scarecrow'll plant her in the hospital, if she's lucky.
BUT STILL THE BADB-- "I don't recall me being the only one investigating those cultists in Aoba Park, for example." Those being the ones that reacted so strangely to her as a whole, she remembers. What is it with these large shadows...?
Noriaki's scowl draws Umie's smile, sharp and open like a wound. "Then why were you staring at me like a snack?" she asks, innocently. The vague wording is intentional, searching around for some minor way to further annoy.
His interest didn't seem to rest on attractiveness, but in covering the extent of his latent, threatening presence.
... In the end, the part that manages to net Noriaki his own scowl from Umie is through the simple act of eating.
She sees the way it disappears into his mouth, like he hasn't eaten in... forever.
...... fuck
This is *Strega*. What the hell is she doing?! This is her trying to get more information from people who would willingly murder her!
Her temple twitches.
"Goddamn it, have another," she sighs, thrusting the second against his chest before he finishes his next offer.
Spitefully, she eats the last one, then, after a drink of her soda, wiping her fingers with a napkin. Then, she grabs some plastic gloves and tongs to snatch out a few more from the display case.
"Go on, then."
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
He grunts, when she promises that. "You and everyone else playing hero," he tells her, shaking his head. "Well, fine. It's been a while since I had anything but the usual shit," Noriak finishes, spreading his arms wide.
In other words, perhaps, bring it on.
At least, it doesn't seem to goad him very much, not more than the usual turn might in such a direction. Maybe it's because of what she's got and what he wants. Maybe it's because he's feeling even somewhat generous in spite of the fact that he could jump the counter and take what he wants. Indeed, if this were the only problem, he could find another, less-guarded conbini in this hour of the night to gather whatever his twisted heart desired.
So there's something else going on here. Is it because he's-- looking at her like she's a snack??
Noriaki's frown only deepens. "Don't flatter yourself, girly," he says, swiping one hand dismissively. "I ain't here for anything but a meal."
He downs one nikuman, then has the gall to ask her for another, like it barely did a thing to stem the tide that is his hunger. "C'mon, girly, hand it over. Maybe I'll feel like talking." He jiggles the fingers of his hand as if to encourage her thus.
His hand pauses when she offers another one over. Is he... surprised?
If so, it's not for long. He snatches it from her and disappears it much like the first.
"That's more like it," he says, rolling first one then the other shoulder with a disconcerting crack of the joints. "So, fine. I'll tell you what I know. Ain't anything worth hiding from you, anyway, sister." He spreads his hand. "Dunno if 'uncle' was some weirdo Sakaki dug up, or what. You'll have to ask him!" he says, his wide grin returning. "Had some sorta," gesture, gesture, "bullshit. Mark shit," he continues, "makes a space real easy to pull out a Persona into, even during the day. Handy shit. I ain't spent too much time with uncle before he kicked it, so that's all I know 'bout that business. Some shit with demons, too. I ain't messing with demons much, right? Shadows, now they're more my business..."
That grin is shit-eatingly wide. Umie knows what he means by that.
"But the rest of us? Now, that part I ain't sayin'. As for what else we learned from uncle..." He shrugs. "I know we're not the only things that go 'bump' in the night. Figured it before. But now I know it. Surprised they ain't messin' with our shit, but hell, maybe they figure we're small times."
He laughs, dark as pitch.
"Well. We'll see 'bout that."
<Pose Tracker> Umie Akabane has posed.
"Really? Who else has been in your business, then?" Umie still hasn't quite cottoned onto the fact that Strega is based in Port Island, given how her encounters have been spread between there and Sumaru City. "What sort of 'usual shit' have you been experiencing?" Umie smirks. "I could always kick things up a notch, if I know what what stimuli've you been so unfairly deprived of."
Her heart is beating fast; aside from the one nikuman, Umie doesn't really feel like eating at all, now.
The taste fo fear and excitement, of slinging words at someone she dislikes, and the risk involved, feels gratifying in this twilight space. All he needs to do is reach over and grab for her neck, and the battle for survival will begin.
Somehow, she gets the feeling he's trying to goad her on, as well.
They both want violence, but Umie isn't willing to give into her inner demons just yet.
(Well, aside from the one that tells Umie to feed the Dirt Man.)
Noriaki's surprise earns him another glower from Umie, who isn't exactly thrilled at giving into her own weakness.
goddamn it, it worked with Kurou but _Noriaki is no Kurou_. He's older than she is, even!!
........ she thinks he is, anyway.
"Marks, huh..." Umie murmurs, softly. "Seems rather useful, to be able to use your Persona even during the day." She shrugs. "But now you can't, I take it? You're limited to the same constricts as the rest of us. <So unfair>."
Her fingers, interlace lazily, red nails poking over each opposite covered wrist.
"Oh?" The Badb wants more. "What other things go bump in the night, then?"
Her smile is obscured as she leans forward, lips nearly brushing the side of her hands. ".... You're not the only ones with a website willing to take requests, either. But I think that other website doesn't take as kindly to the kind of revenge you offer," she says, lightly.
<Pose Tracker> Noriaki Okaga has posed.
That seems to give the man pause. Noriaki takes a moment longer to answer her: "Those kids Kirijo has do their dirty work," he tells her flatly. He waves a hand, dismissively. "Don't matter what they call themselves, right? When you get right down to it."
That mouth of his pulls into a disagreeable sneer. "Tch. Whatever, girly. I'll pull my punches here today, but next time... I'll settle you like the rest," he tells her. "Don't think we're square just yet..."
He shifts his stance. He still slouches, yes, but he's more upright than he'd been near the start of this process. It would be an easy thing for him to reach for some weapon hidden on his person, or, more likely given the large pockets of his hoodie, suddenly produce an Evoker and cause havoc here in this 25th hour of the day. They both might be willing to throw down, sure...
But which one of them has the most to lose?
It's said that cats would rather squall and scream at each other rather than actually fight. If that's true, then, it might say something about this current state of affairs.
Or maybe, it says nothing at all. A person is not a cat.
Of course, the other thing about cats that might relate to the current state of affairs is that when you feed a stray, it might well come back later. How likely is that to happen, now...?
"I guess," says Noriaki, rolling his shoulders. "I ain't bothered. This hour's ours, and we can do with it what we want. It's them that sleep the whole time through-- heh, they're the ones who're missing out! A dead world full of stuff that'd soon kill you as look at you, and there ain't hardly another soul around!" He lowers his voice, his attention on Umie as he finishes, "And I wouldn't have it any other way."
He waves a hand, dismissively. "Convenient, sure. But this time's predictable, which's more than I can say for 'uncle'!" He cackles.
But what else goes bump in the night?
"Tch. Kirijo ain't the only suits around. Ain't sure who they're workin' for, properly, but that don't matter. I got my eye on 'em... and I'll figure out their business soon enough," he promises Umie.
He grins down at Umie, madly. "So don't you worry, sister! We'll solve our little problem soon enough!"
There's another website around, and it won't quite take kindly to their sort of requests.
"Eh? What are you on about?" That mouth purses, as if in thought. "Oh, right... those little self-proclaimed 'do-gooders'." He makes quotation marks with his fingers. "Well, they can piss right off. The moment they mess in our business, I'll show 'em who runs this show..."
He stands like that for a long moment, as if regarding Umie.
"There. Suits me as payment for the 'dinner', sister," he tells Umie. "Now, I've gotta be off. Just like you, I have work to do!"
He belts out a laugh as he turns about, stalking back through the convenience store...
...and not without snagging a bag of chips on the way out.