worldbent | GOLDEN PEACOCK: INBOX+OVERFLOW

[The flutter of paper almost takes Matoba off-guard, in the sense that it takes him a split second not to regard it as one of the many pests of the resort and for the ally that it is.]

[Well. "Ally", insofar as a fellow exorcist could be counted.]

[He holds out his palm for the-- wrapper?? --to land in, lips pursing in disapproval as he reads the simple message. Ahh. Retrieving a brushpoint pen from his sleeve, he writes an equally simple return message:]

What flavor?

[It's only after he sends the doll off again that the numbers sink in. 3rd floor??? ...Down in the dregs nonetheless, but that leaves a bad taste in his mouth.]

[He will have to wash it down with cake.]

[The response is on a fresh doll made out of another (different) wine label.]

I'm not checking all of them. Come see for yourself.

[And he doesn't even need to come inside to see-- Natori's gifts are literally stacked up to the ceiling in the hall outside his room.]

[Hmph. Leave it to Natori to not be able to do what needs to be done!! (read his menu of cakes)]

[It does not take very long at all for Matoba to arrive to the very obvious pile of gifts in the 3rd floor hallway, but rather than make any attempt to knock on the door beside them, Matoba simply helps himself. It seems as though he might not be the only one; Matoba sees the remnants of chocolate wrappers among the pile, certainly not partaken of by their rightful owner.]

[(That's him!!)]

[Natori will have to simply step outside his room and nearly trip over Matoba, primly seiza on the floor as he sorts carefully through boxes of cake, to make any sort of contact.]

I suppose a receptionist's salary can't buy anything much fancier, [He comments idly when found, setting aside a single-layer buttercream.]

Edited 2025-06-04 01:09 (UTC)

[Natori doesn't care that someone else has been at his comically oversized pile of presents. He's been sifting through for the stuff he could actively use (some of the less embarrassing clothes and books, mostly) to stash away in his awful little room, and otherwise will let the rest fall where they will. He hasn't spotted anything really useful yet, but it would be just his luck that there's a nice pot or incense hidden in the center...

When he steps back into the hallway, it's to do another pass through the pile for anything he wants to keep. He does, in fact, nearly trip over Matoba, and takes a moment to be annoyed that he didn't knock like a normal person.]

...They bought this with their own money?

[Not comped from the hotel, but personal gifts from the staff? That makes him feel very slightly guilty, until he remembers the note that came with the rest of it.]

So I guess this sort of thing happens for everyone?

Perhaps, [Matoba comments off-handedly, in a way that conveys how little thought he gives to Natori's prattle.]

[Upon the second, however, he pauses to tilt his head.]

No, [He replies, and then adds,] I have not heard of something like this. That, I imagine, is all you.

[Whether that is meant derogatorily or matter of factly is.. unclear from his tone.]

[Natori just takes it as a given that it's derogatory-- Matoba has certainly never shied away from expressing his opinion of the other trappings of Natori's day job, including earlier in this very hotel.]

Apparently I have fans among the staff. [He'll just leave it at that rather than risk Matoba hunting down poor Ellie, whoever she is. He tilts his head towards the crappy room behind him.] Though not big enough fans to swing for an upgrade.

[...Matoba had implied that he'd had guesses about which suit would 'claim' Natori. He leans back against the dingy door jam, watching Matoba pick his way through the sweets.]

...What was your guess? About which one I'd get.

[A quiet scoff escapes Matoba. Of course he does; some things do not change, even trapped in ayakashi realms populated by ghouls and spirits.]

Haha, no. Even playing favorites does not dissuade the pecking order instilled by the house.

...Or the suits. [Matoba smiles, knowing and conniving, and the instead of answering Natori's question, holds out his hand expectantly.] Your Watch?

[So "the house" isn't the staff who manage the facility, but something else entirely (or, of course, he just doesn't have fans in high enough places). And the suits are something separate from that.

Natori knows how Matoba insists on having conversations, so instead of arguing he plops his wrist into Matoba's waiting hand like he's a certain celebrity offering it to a supplicant to kiss. (He does still roll his eyes in annoyance that Matoba continues to be so Matoba, but what else is new.) He is of course going to keep asking questions, though.] "The house" is the hotel itself? The one whose heart you all found recently.

[See, he can do a little poking around too!!]

[Matoba glances at the Watch face offered to him, his mouth in its neutral half-smirk unmoving, but his smugness isn't dimmed in the slightest, so it's clear that he's seen something he expected.]

Elusive Spades... [He hums thoughtfully, releasing Natori's wrist back to him and then opening a box of cookies. Oooh, toffee chip. There is no inch of the concern that clouds him visible on his face, now that he has seen that mark.] I wondered on which side you would fall. Now I have my answer.

[Not Clubs. Not conniving enough for that, naive Shuichi.]

[Matoba lets another pause of quiet pass, considering how much he should say. Then he picks up that box of cookies and finally stands, smoothing out his haori with a flick of wrist and tucking the box under his arm. He nods his chin towards Natori's doorway.]

No. Inside.

[You have warded your room already, right, Natori...?]

It would be more impressive if you'd named it before you looked... [Natori mutters to himself, even though he knows that Matoba is probably telling the truth about having guessed. Not that Natori knows anything about what might entice one suit over the other; maybe if he acts ignorant enough about it Matoba will enlighten him to rub it in. Or he could avoid giving Matoba the satisfaction and find someone else to share some theories... even if chances are that they won't look at it in quite the same way that he and Matoba would.

Their perspectives may differ, but they were still closer to each other than they were to the average person.

Anyway, he can take that hint. He sighs, then gets the door.

His room is warded, thanks... though Matoba can see that it's been done in a somewhat jerryrigged fashion. The talismans positioned on the walls look suspiciously like they were made from pages torn out of a cheap paperback romance novel (Natori received three copies of something called The Time I, An Introverted Receptionist At A Luxury Hotel, Saw My Movie Star Guest Changing?! and gladly sacrificed it to secure his room) and written out with eyeliner. There's also barely any room to navigate, even moreso than most rank 3 rooms; the small amount of walking space available is taken up by piles of books and clothes that Natori cherry-picked out of present mountain, and it's still already spilling over onto his small bed. Natori sits on it, because it's not like there's anywhere else to go.]

If you're going to complain about it, you could get me some real supplies.

Perhaps I would be willing to share, for the right price,

[Matoba agrees cheerfully as he enters, glancing around at the space (or lack thereof). Gee, Natori sure has gotten quite the starting amenities, though, hasn't he...? Matoba's just a little ticked off about that.]

It isn't about a guessing game, Natori. It is about our enemies.

[He chides, inviting himself to also sit on Natori's small bed, but from a different angle (after stepping over a pile of clothes).] Namely, there are about six different, main entities you must be concerned with.

The first 4 are the "suits" that claim we guests. As you have surely noticed, they have taken on identities from the suits of a deck of Western playing cards. Hearts, Diamonds, Clubs, Spades.

I was chosen by Clubs, [He adds, like an afterthought.] An interesting ayakashi for sure. But I will get to that story another time.

The two most powerful, however, are the resort itself, and "the house". That "the house" did not refer to the resort's will itself is a somewhat new revelation given to me by some of our.... forebearers, I suppose you could call them. The guests in the Golden Peacock who have won Game 52 and still retain their sense of self.

But, only because something rather drastic occurred.

[Natori can't very well complain about Matoba sitting on the bed-- after all, there's nowhere else for him to go, unless he wants to make like Shuuichi did in high school and lounge on top of a pile of books in his crowded storehouse-- but he does appreciate that they stay at right angles to each other, as close to a business meeting as they can manage in the circumstances.]

Six... [he repeats thoughtfully. He expected each of the suits, and based on what was described to him by some of the others that he's met here, expected to hear about the hotel itself-- but this last one is a surprise. Or rather, that there's a distinction is a surprise, though it sounds like he's hardly alone in that one.]

--Some of the people here have "won" the game already?

Yes. There are two I am aware of. [Matoba glances slightly over-shoulder towards Natori- gauging an incoming reaction, perhaps?] Who chose to stay, that is.

The first is the proprietress of the Red Cardinal restaurant: Jin Mingming-san. You might read back on the message boards a little bit to find a discussion posted under her account. There was quite a lot of interesting information that came to light as a result.

[Not just about her. Thanks for the oversharing, everybody.]

The second is Jester-san. He is... [Matoba pauses, and his mouth twists with amusement and sharpness.] ...unpredictable, as the name might suggest. Dealing with him is more akin to dealing with another exorcist, I think.

[Implying, maybe, that there were some who chose not to stay, and thus, if the rules of this place could be relied on, were allowed to leave. Which would also track, ayakashi being bound by the rules of their self-imposed games even if it goes against their interests.]

The message board... in the lobby? [The bulletin boards, he thinks at first, but then "account" sets in.] Oh-- no, the message boards. [He shakes the wrist with the Watch on it for clarification, looking vaguely annoyed about it still.] Alright. I'll take a look at it.

[And maybe go to speak to her, once he's out of research mode and ready to do more field work. Especially if she's the one who is not like dealing with another exorcist.]

Hm. So, what'd he charge you for the information about "the house"?

Yes, these strange Watches that act like mobile phones.

[Matoba waves his wrist- you know, the message boards!! That was more Shinobu's thing, okay, he doesn't do that nerd shit.]

Oya, no- Mingming-san is the one who gave me the information. She seems quite close to the chest, but in fact, is a bit of a bleeding heart. [He says, smiling proudly like a little shit,] If you ask your questions carefully, she will sometimes shoot straight.

Ah, but J-san..... [Again, that smile turns conniving.] ...can certainly be negotiated with. Gifts for gifts. And, he is a man who loves the thrill of a gamble, and will honor the results.

But your gamble must be worth his time. [He turns to look Natori in the eye, his smile mild.] Think of him as closer to an ayakashi. He will only accept bets of value.

[All of this is just to say that Mingming-san is definitely the one he would rather talk to-- not only because she sounds infinitely more tolerable, but also because she's the one who provided the information??]

Noted. [But still, even if it's with a gamble instead of a straightforward cost, his assumption that Jester would be the one making a transaction out of everything was the correct one. As would only be expected of the one who's behaving most like another exorcist-- or like an ayakashi, apparently.] "Value" meaning more than the chips or... the rest of what this resort is obsessed with?

[Oh, but no.] Or is that part the house?

Hmm... perhaps those, but no, [Matoba hums,] When I say like an ayakashi, I include his interests. The things he likes to collect.

Organs. Limbs. Memories. Regrets.

[And, like dealing with an ayakashi, you should never give anything too good without getting better in return. Matoba, who made good business deals and bets with J and won himself useful weapons in return, has no need to risk anything with him again.]

[There's a pause, then he adds,] I do not know the answer to that, actually. Perhaps Mingming-san will?

Ah, [Natori says to that, which is really all that needs to be said-- not shock or alarm, just the sound of someone being neatly fit into the box of "oh, one of those."]

Hmm. But still, the house and the resort are different-- which was it whose heart you found recently?

[He uses the plural "you," Matoba inclusive-- because he cannot imagine a world where a bunch of normies stumbled over the heart of the thing trapping them in an ayakashi realm, and Matoba Seiji did not.]

Humans that have forgotten what it is to be human cannot really be called human anymore, now can they?

[Spoken behind Natori's back, without view of his face. Not necessary.]

...But how to describe it...

[The way he trails off is not entirely-- his voice is even, and yet there's a distance to it. Perhaps he doesn't want to remember, entirely. Viewing a thing like that directly was inadvisable, even for a bold Matoba, and there is always a price. But he knew that going into it.]

The resort's "heart" bears a curse, [He says at last, carefully, neutrally,] and that curse is "the house".

[Unsurprising, then-- that one of the two 'winners' of the game they're all playing has been here long enough to become something more, something less, something other. At least one. He was hardly the only one, only notable for what he'd managed to accomplish along the way.

Natori waits, inherently understanding that this is the sort of thing that will need to be spoken around, something that needs to be said without looking. Natori studies the miserable little ceiling of his miserable little room as Matoba finds it, leaning back on his hands in consideration.

He turns that over in his mind.]

...A parasite, then? Or a warping... where it was once just the "resort"?

And then last month it lashed out.

Yes,

[He says, in response to "parasite". He remembers those heavy black chains, the way they lashed out. Powerful, and formed of what? That part he couldn't decipher between all of the other overload of information the heart had fed him- taken from him. It had been a mistake to look. But he had to. If not him, then who?]

I think, moreso than lashing it, it was slipping control. Whatever caused it, it seems to have mended itself again for now.

But perhaps... There could be some way to influence it again. [Deadly serious,] That is the focus I have decided to take as I continue to observe.

[That last comment, serious as it is, is what makes Natori sharpen up, snapping his attention back to Matoba. It's not as though it's unexpected, given... well, given everything about Matoba. How very like him. He thinks of Matoba at the heart of that doll, stubbornly pushing through until it was almost too late; he'd like to think that Matoba is thinking the same thing, though of course probably all backwards, about what might have been if Natori hadn't 'interfered.'

He sits up straight, eyes automatically falling to his makeshift wards as if double checking that they're there. Eventually, he says] But you are still observing. For now.

...What did it do? ["to you," he means; he knows about the "punishments" that people received for looking at it, and knows that Matoba can't have been immune.]

[A sigh of finality, impatient, escapes Matoba.]

For now.

[Because there was no knowing if any of them could escape or survive if the wrong thing was done, and the realm collapsed.]

[Natori's question hangs in the air between them for a long moment. Then, in a strong, steady voice,]

I don't know what you mean.

['End of conversation.']

[Fine. He's not 16 anymore; he knows when he's not going to get anything else from a line of conversation. He gives himself one beat (why would he have expected otherwise? Asking Matoba Seiji to be vulnerable inside an ayakashi's domain?) before he goes on.]

So. What should I know about Spades.

What you should know about Spades, hm................

[The suit he is the least familiar with, really. Who comes to mind? That mutt: pettiness and prickliness underlying kinder, more thoughtful instincts. That suits Shuichi to a T, though, he thinks.]

[He could answer that straightforwardly- call him out right to his face on his soft heart, and his internal struggle, and the attractive way he sometimes leaned into his worse instincts that made him a better exorcist, and the attractive way he tried not to.]

[Instead, he turns to face Natori again with his half-smile, and in the same vein as he had previously warned him:] Don't leave your heart open.

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