. people won't behave if they have nothing to lose (closed)

[shikomizue]

Who: Takasugi Shinsuke (shikomizue) & ""Friends""
What: Catch-all for Feb / March
When: All of Feb / March
Where: Mostly Wyver, some sojourns to Olympia
Warning(s): NSFW + altered states

Comments

. lancelot

[shikomizue]

[As with every task assigned by the Guilded Cage, Takasugi's been given a partner. Unnecessary at best, and a hindrance at worst, the 'buddy system' is quickly losing what thin merit it possessed.

Waiting on his companion isn't a priority.

Shaman come and go in no regular measure, passing both alone or accompanied - all indistinguishable from one another in the weight of their robes and the lowering of their faces.

Loathe as he is to follow directions so closely, wrapping in their vestments would be the simplest way in.

He makes it quick; blows to the head from behind crumple the shaman, caught before their faces hit the dirt only to preserve the quality of their attire. Once he's stripped two (partnership ignored, but not forgotten), he shrugs into the robe.

When Lancelot arrives - not late, perhaps even early (Takasugi didn't pay any mind to timing when seizing the opportunity to strike) - he comes upon two men, unmoving on their bellies in the mud, a robe draped over a tree branch, and a man obscured by his hood, still straightening the seems of his new attire.]

[ausuben]

[ Even being extremely unfamiliar with his surroundings and still trying to get used to their overall situation, Lancelot is—as a long time friend has put it—"a real stickler for rules and punctuality."

So he is absolutely on time, at the very least. However, that doesn't mean when he shows up that he doesn't have a moment of thinking otherwise. Luckily, he's also well aware he's not in a situation to be distracted by such details (and will lament over it later), instead taking care to quickly assess what he's come upon.

...Ahem, well, he would have made more of an effort to not drop the victims in the mud, but too late now and no one looks dead so there's little to warrant a fuss over. Plus, the other individual that has been assigned this quest, also, has very kindly(?) thought to provide Lancelot with a set of robes, already. So he will move over to the branch, a quiet thank you given for the consideration despite his absence before tugging on the robes to pull off the branch and start putting his own disguise on. There's no sense wasting any more time if this is how his partner wants to do this? Lancelot is more than happy to get this over with sooner versus later, as well.

Of course, he has no idea that this partner of his is slightly less of a stranger than he has been assuming but everyone loves surprises. mostly. ]

[shikomizue]

[A familiar voice follows an unfamiliar gait - Takasugi doesn't recognize his companion from those small cues alone. Rustling behind him confirms that the man is, in the very least, not the type to waste time.

And he can appreciate that much. Another small relief taken in the lack of immediate small talk.

Efficiency afforded to him, Takasugi finishes adjusting his garb before turning to his partner. He tilts his head, glancing through draped fabric to see brown locks and a face he remembers.

Cree's sent him a useful one.] Yo.

[Remember him? Either way, Takasugi only affords the man a few moments to finish dressing before he's stepping back out onto the path to the temple.]

. solomon

[shikomizue]

[They travel together, Takasugi silently smoking for a majority of the trip. Subtle, earthy, the bite of his tobacco is quickly swallowed by the jungle heat. No matter how deep of a breath he takes, mouth filling with smoke that only slowly drifts from his lips, all he can taste is dirt.

He supposes he'll have something in common with the shaman, soon enough.

Wet bark scrapes a trail into his back as he slides against a thick, knotted tree. Through the dangling foliage, several shaman make their way out of the depths of the forest path, to a clearing that's nothing more than a jutting precipice, grass and moss choking out the stone.

Across there, the temple.

Crouching, Takasugi looks to Solomon for what is likely the first time in their journey.] Tell me when you see a pair.

I'll take care of them. [Sword at his side, he doesn't intend to kill them. But there's no better way to ensure they're not seen...]

[semblant]

[He doesn't mind the quiet; there's no biting desire to diminish it. In fact, it's best to maintain something like that around these parts, with the mission they've been equipped with. The silent game finds reprieve at a deformed tree coupled with a fairly decent vantage point -- a place Takasugi likely chose on purpose.]

Wouldn't it be easier if we took out our own targets?

[A question posed while moving to his companions side, ducking just beneath a low branch out of necessity but retaining that pose in an effort to be somewhat covert. Yet to imply even an inkling of an ability to defend himself, let alone take a someone out, it wouldn't be totally absurd for Takasugi to think he's joking.

That being said, splitting up is probably not such a great idea at the moment. At least he's not protesting the concept of brute force.]

writing action scenes like ???

[shikomizue]

[Solomon isn't the worst person to be around - at least he doesn't run his mouth like an idiot. Welcoming a comfortable silence is a trait Takasugi values, though he supposes it was only a matter of time until something stupid came out of the foreigner's mouth.

His eyebrows are obscured by bandage and hair, but rest assured - they're risen.

After a - very deliberately noticeable - rake of his eyes over Solomon's body, Takasugi decides not to even honor the question with a response.

Instead he turns, sinking lower to survey the path himself.

A group of three, slow in their gait, come to a stop just paces past the tree. One turns, a hand raised to his companions. He doubles back.

Takasugi doesn't move.

The man passes by the tree, shaking his head. Maybe he forgot something?

Whatever the reason, Takasugi seizes the opportunity, rushing through the brush and stepping over root to reach the duo continuing their trek. One turns; Takasugi reaches for his face, palm over mouth, and slams him into a tree before he can make a sound. He crumples. The other stumbles away, and Takasugi pursues, pressing the man back into another trunk.

Scabbard held to his neck, Takasugi waits with his head turned towards Solomon until the man stops struggling, asphyxiated into silence.

It's then the third man returns, his step halted - aghast - before adrenaline seems to possess him to run forward, shouting words Takasugi doesn't understand.]

. yona

[shikomizue]

[Breaking a saw is better than dulling his sword, though the rattle of metal chewing through bone is near impossible to disguise. On thin chance, a creature exists who's call sounds similar.

But Takasugi isn't counting on that.

He continues to saw, constant, though not fervent - deep scores more efficient than shallow scraping, and leaves his sword at his side for other purposes.

Human bones litter the silt, churned under root and foot. What's a few more?

Takasugi catches the motion of an approach before the sound, his ears shaken with the groan of his sawing. He pauses, looks up, but doesn't abandon his perch. Doesn't try to look like he's doing anything but exactly the crime he's committing.]

[cutefaced]

[...

Yeah, he's not trying to hide it at all.

Yona wonders if maybe she should call someone. But - maybe she shouldn't. After all, she's been to Cree's. She knows what he's asking people to do, and she knows what the risks are. If she just walks away from this, what will he do if someone else comes along?

Someone actually from Wyver?

Her brow furrows slightly, and she takes a step closer to him.]

Um... you might want to be more subtle about that, you know?

[shikomizue]

[The girl's suggestion is met with a stare.

It goes on, a bit too long.

And then he starts sawing again.

His voice is hardly audible over the slow, grinding scores being carved into bone.] Here.

[The noise stops again - Takasugi offers the saw to the girl.]

Show me how to do it quietly. [Is that even possible? He doubts it. He's just being a smartass.]

. atsushi

[shikomizue]

[Wreckage - not altruistic intention - draws Takasugi to the site of the crash. There's not much left of the ships, flotsam drifting like black beasts lurking beneath the water. Whatever washes up on shore isn't recognizable, and soon consumed by the muck beneath.

Takasugi doesn't venture farther than he needs to - the view isn't much, and the ground smells like shit.

Harsh purple dances in the heavy air, drifting nowhere, caught in the undertow of sea breeze. It steals his attention for a moment, long enough for a few flecks to catch in his hair.

The sound of footsteps brings him back to the gloom of the hollows. Though not immediately in sight, Takasugi is quick to find the nearby traveler.] I hear it's quite easy to get lost here.

[He addresses the boy with several rotted stumps still between them, taking his time to cross the muck - care taken not to erode his footing or his demeanor.]

[gekkajuu]

[He's disoriented. That probably stands to reason, when you fall from the sky at a speed that makes the water's surface as hard as ice, but Atsushi is pretty sure that that's not all there is to it. He's just not entirely sure what he's missing.

But he's alive, because of course he is; he's also wet and shivering a little, the longer strand of his hair sticking to his face at an awkward angle. He'll dry up sooner or later, and no doubt that will solve all his problems. For now, he focuses on just keeping walking.

And on the appearance of someone else nearby. Atsushi thinks there should be others, and yet one is more than he expected.]

... Yes. But Olympia should be to the north, and Wyver to the east...

[He really does feel like he's not all there. Maybe he hit his head..?]

[shikomizue]

Ah.

[Not a newcomer, then.

For all of Takasugi's refusal to call this place somewhere familiar, an alien planet as disgusting as any of the other cesspools he's visited, he looks to the North, and then the East.

He's learned the path of the sun and moon - enough time spent watching them slide by.]

And which are you headed to? [It's almost cautious, Takasugi recognizes suspicion in his voice and presses his lips tight. On a battlefield, any stranger is as likely to end up foe as they are an ally.

But this isn't a war - not yet - and he's hardly a desirable target.

Strange, for a memory (visceral as it may be, with the stench of oil and rot searing his nostrils), to pry itself from him so literally.]

. diva

[shikomizue]

[Their booth is at the end of a row, on the corner of an intersection. Not chosen for the acoustics, though they may be better, but the exposure, Takasugi paid a good sum of silver for the lot.

He left the decor up to some locals milling about, looking to express themselves but without the experience to run their own show.

What's resulted is a simple display of Wyver-colored tapestries, draped to enshroud the wooden display, with vines woven over what remained visible. It suits the festivities, but less so the artistry being presented.

Though, he doesn't know the full extent of her song.

Diva will be left to her own devices once they arrive, the implicit suggestion to warm up given as Takasugi removes his instrument from his case. His fingers aren't quite so deft, the stretch of the strings in tuning unfamiliar tension; the instrument is foreign.

This is the first time that's truly become an inconvenience.]

[colorature]

_{[Leaving Diva to her own devices is never a good idea. Sure, she does warm up, but that only all of five minutes. In fact, she's more interested in what Takasugi's doing, peering over his shoulder as he fiddles with the instrument in hand.]}

Hey...are we going to play soon?

_{[Impatient, isn't she?]}

[shikomizue]

[Just when he's settling into the woman's rhythm, her voice stops - silence as sharp as a blade. His fingers brush along strings, high-pitched whir a subtle sign of mild frustration.

Her stare doesn't encourage him to pluck more music from the strings beneath his fingers.]

Confident, aren't you?

[He shifts, hoisting the neck of the instrument onto his shoulder.] I won't play much; just chords as you begin, and change movements.

[Details he can tell are going to bore her - Takasugi changes subject.] We'll play for the king when he comes by.

In the mean time, do you want to entertain these commoners? [He has no true aim - sing now or wait - but it's clear she needs something to occupy herself with.]

. cain

[shikomizue]

[Seeing the streets of the stalwart city, so known for its order and decorum, devolve towards chaos suits Takasugi well enough. He isn't looking for a way to skirt the sight of violence, or the attention of locals; even when accosted he'd simply paid recourse in equal measure.

But, given the state of his shower - a pull cord that dribbles murky water - and the lack of opportunity to return to Thesa for a time, he readily takes the opportunity to wash his hands free of the day's grime in the spring bank.

Once they're clean, he steps upstream to take a drink.

Later that night, he finds himself parched in a different way. As he gulps down glass after glass of liquor, he finds staying out of his neighbor's space growing difficult. When his forearm sprawls into the man's next to him, Takasugi rises.

It's too troubling to suppress.

And tender touches will never sate him.

His blood courses, throbbing from ears to neck, from wrist to palm, with an appetite for flesh. Mangled or consumed underneath him - the former familiar, the later an intrusive thought he banishes with fleeting fantasies of shattered bones and stained stones beneath his feet.

Until they begin to coalesce.

Time slips away; Takasugi doesn't know how long it's been since he left the bar, and only remembers where he's come from by the lingering burn on his tongue. He's far from recognizing the people he passes as anything but glimmers, much like the dim lighting that glows sparsely on street corners.

Until a certain bastard's visage appears in the night's fog.

Takasugi steps aside, the moment of recognition simultaneous with impulse. He waits, obscured by darkness in the recess of an unmarked building's door.

When Cain passes Takasugi reaches out with one arm, catching shoulders. Using the support of the door behind him, he slings the man into the stone wall. His body follows, squaring them in place, arm still hanging on Cain's shoulder.]

Having a good night?

[baguablade]

[ Cain's mouth is open on a yelp of surprise, his hand already on the hilt of his sword, ready to draw it — for all that he doesn't have the opportunity, the breath knocked right out of him, pain hazing his vision as Takasugi's fingers dig unerringly into the tender scar on his shoulder. The scar that Takasugi had left himself not so long ago, and as Cain blinks away stars and sees who it is that's accosted him, his surprise melts away into a bitter grimace.

Perfect. Exactly what he needs— ]

You're the last person I want to see.

[ ...ah. He hadn't meant to say that, but it's true. ]

[shikomizue]

[A single heavy breath, rise and fall of chest resembling a sigh, but his breath remains measured. Draw that sword. Reach for the weapon, and he'll raise his. Steel can clash until stone runs red.

They hang in silence while Takasugi swallows every urge to force Cain to draw his blade.

He'd been given such a charming greeting. And there are other ways to leave a body cold and writhing.

Takasugi's hand drifts, pressure on Cain's shoulder shifting gently - but noticeably, with an injury still healing. Fingers find brown hair and curl, the facsimile of a caress wandering over the base of the man's skull.]

Mmn.

[Shoulders curl, hips sway forward, and much of the distance between them is closed. Left to shreds and hot breath, still sour with liquor.] Last time you looked at me like this, you crammed your tongue down my throat.

. soldier

[shikomizue]

[They meet as determined - Takasugi arrives first, earlier than the time agreed upon, though he does little other than pace a short path between the soft ground near the spring and the steps to the temple. Even from where he is, the splatter of blood shines unmistakable on a few rocks, scattered not too far from each other on the opposite side of the stairway.

Pipe dwindling, Takasugi empties blackened ash from the bowl against one of the stone posts designating the shrine's purpose.

And fills it again, lighting the tobacco with a breath deep enough to combat the humidity of the jungle.

He lingers, watching the small glimmer of trickling spring water he can see from his vantage rather than investigate.

When footsteps trod near, his attention turns, and he greets his companion with a nod.] Yo.

Find anything interesting on your way?

[personalwar]

[ The shrine might be quiet now, but 76 suspects that wasn't the case all too long ago. Between the tracks made in the snow, the dots of blood here and there, and a few feathers that he's picked up while making his way over here, he's pretty sure that they've found their culprits -- or evidence of them, at least.

As he approaches, he lifts his hand to show Tani the black feathers he'd collected, gripped between gloved fingers. They'd been told that they would need to provide proof of their findings, so it makes sense to gather whatever they find at the scene. ]

Just these.

[ 76 looks Tani over. Smoking again, huh? He could say something, but it's really none of his business, and he doesn't have to worry about breathing any of it in when he's got the visor on. ]

Looks like we've got a trail to follow, though.

[shikomizue]

[The proof Takasugi's searching for is more corporeal in nature - not a captive but perhaps a body dragged to Cree's doorstep. Proof of retaliation, rather than guilt - though dusting a few feathers on the corpse should take care of that.

He nods to Soldier's find with a smile.]

Aa, we do. [Turning his gaze up the shrine path, Takasugi begins to ascend the small, cracked stone stairway towards the temple. Humidity stains the rock a darkened hue, but some spots gleam more than others - the remnants of footprints wet with spring water.]

What will you do if we find these culprits? [Ambling pace gives way to small talk, no real impetus driving Takasugi's step.]

the one where it's in a cove

[originallutece]

[It isn't that Rosalind really cares all that much about Sanctuary, honestly. The place had been of little use to her before, never mind now, and she disapproves of their shoddy methods in both treatment and scientific endeavors.

But she could use their good favor. She could use anyone's good favor right now, a month before she plans on venturing out on her own and opening her own shop. So she's in Flona Cove right now, a large bag settled on the rocks, her boots and stockings shed as she wades into the water. Her toes curl, and she feels a familiar heat, but she ignores it. Knowing what this cove is doing to her makes it all the easier to push away.

She's gotten a fair few ingredients together before she hears footsteps. Rosalind straightens up-- and when she sees who it is, her eyes narrow.]

What are you doing here?

[As if it's not a place for anyone to come and go. But not him.]

[shikomizue]

[Medical supplies in short supply means recreational supplies in equal scarcity, used to supplement gentler painkillers that had run out of stock. Addiction and side-effects the risk people take when they're desperate - to help or to heal.

Takasugi's desperation has long since faded into habit, and when chatting with an amiable salesman (read: dealer) in the Guilded Cage, he'd managed to eek out a deal. Bring a bundle of a specific herb from Flona cove, and get a steep discount.

He isn't wading in the water, instead crouched at it's edge, rustling through tangled shrubs at the base of a tree. The roots stick out over the water, land underneath long eroded by the stream, and it's through those distorted roots he sees the woman, just a moment before she addresses him.]

Ah? [Stands, so he can see how deeply she's waded into the water.] Taking a dip? [He's not answering - he's ignoring her question to ask his own.]

nice to meet u over tea

[tzaraisen]

[ During the first day, the severity of their situation is plainly evident, but not something that has affected Percival considerably. Not yet. Right now, he moves around the classroom constantly, searching for any sort of fault in the infrastructure that they might be able to exploit.

He tries not to pay too much mind to how tired he suddenly feels, as well. He addresses another man, someone who walks among them, so he assumes they must be sharing in this predicament. ]

Tell me— have you found or heard anything that could be of some use? A name, or a whisper of some sort?

sips

[shikomizue]

[Takasugi knows they put him in here on the first day to ensure his intentions aren't duplicitous. So they can easily subdue him if he acts out, or lends a hand to languishing hostages. All under the guise of scoping out the crop, told to pluck the more inquisitive from the bunch to tear down first.

The task would have been better left to someone more discerning in where they wish to sink their claws.

Takasugi will tear into anything.

The man who speaks to him might as well have volunteered.] All they want is information. [He turns more fully to the captive, eye raking over him.] So just tell them what they want to hear, and you'll live.

[Probably.]