(dazai can't sleep should there be a ray of light, and even the slightest of sounds is enough for him to awaken - but like this? he doesn't do it in good spirits. rolling out of bed, this is the fastest coffee he has ever made, a pair of pants and a black t-shirt contradicting the usual vintage style he wears. the bandages are much more visible like this, from the palms of his hands, to his neck, even his ankles are wrapped, and he drags himself through the inn as such, caffeine in hand, the face of someone who's still asleep and the messiest of curls on top of his head.

for a while, he's just watching, squinting as he is trying to get a hold of the situation. for now, just angry fairies... ah.

alright. a sip. a slowblink.)

Ah, little curses... I definitely won't try, but did they say anything so far... (yawn) ... Is this worth it...

(he's got at least his vest, and shoes before he decides that it is definitely worth it once he takes a look through the other side. it's almost awkward the way he moves through, like he's avoiding touching any edges, because!! who knows!! it might close on him!! 'no longer human', a blessing, and a curse.

he's glad that he's wearing black, at least, and sleeveless at that, or he'd be in much more trouble. naturally, there are a few plans for this to work for him in the best way possible. observe first. see what happens to others, before he can have his hand. strategic placement would be under the shade, so he sits, stretches, and pretends to be asleep. he's listening, watching from the smallest gaps between his eyelids.

zzzZZZzzzzzzzzz... not.)

(it's fine if anyone else gets the goods before him. with how he is, it's not going to be long until he gets his hands in every goods that there might be -- and aside from anything that can provide information, he's not particularly worried. everything is information, after all, and his memory is taking in each and every single detail of this place, even if it looks like he's not taking it seriously at all. a hop here, a skip there, a giggle as he draws silly faces around. all little excuses for him to look, to analyze thoroughly, while slacking off as much as he can on the surface. not at all different from usual dazai antics.

the next house he comes, however, he hears a banging noise from below him, a voice, and there's a trap door-- a little lock? oh. sounds like mr lockpick could help!! but he's going to have some fun beforehand.)

Heeeeeeeeeeeeey, how is it down there? Good napping spot?

(ghosts? is that it? or... monsters? perhaps someone's ability. it's not wise to approach when he doesn't know - dangerous for dazai to put all his faith in his nullifying touch when the rules are different. not much he can do - he can fight, but to what extent? good thing he has brought one of chuuya's knives, for safety purposes, and that's what he is doing. naturally, not ghosts to target - he's been watching.

-- fuck, he should not have been that careful, when he notices the items being of use.

fuck. time to rush to the houses, get as many items as he possibly can carry, preferably from left-overs of traps. strategy-- strategy..)