![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
(closed) we're few and far between
Who: mikazuki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
sparsity) & amaterasu (illuminating), later starring eugene (presses) & shino (galaxycannon)
What: guard work! mika and ammy kicking a fool out of a bar.
When: early september.
Where: the anchor, a bar in the market district. eventually shades darker.
Warning(s): a little violence and intimidation? mentions of the redlight district but nothing major.
[ AMMY ]
[ It starts with a patrol or two. Since accepting the position Ashti offered him on Olympia's guard and the subsequent task attached to it, Mikazuki has had the phantom taste of familiarity in his mouth. Of Martian dust, cold and coppery, back when he'd first joined that little paramilitary that paved the way for being... well, here. He doesn't think about those first steps anymore. Guard work isn't new to him, but it's the first time he's been left to deal with a job as he sees fit. Which has him parked across the street from The Anchor, a small but lively neighborhood bar in the heart of the Market District. A place where the hard-working locals came to unwind before heading home for the night so they could get up the next day and do it all over again. He's silent in his unspoken reverence of it, leaning with his arms folded over a decorative streetside rail twisted with ivy-like vines.
Even in the city, it's warm and bright. Life flourishes wherever he looks. On quieter nights, his attention strays to it a little longer than usual.
But tonight isn't a quiet night. After having crossed paths with this bar a few times, Mikazuki knows the place is raucous at its best. It's made moreso by the lumbering form of a man behind the windowpanes, swinging his weight around and causing the noise to dial up. Mikazuki shifts plainly, black uniform making him seem more compact than normal but no less inconspicuous for the shining stone fixed to his breast. Mostly, his moving around is to get at his coat pocket, pulling out some dried fruit and popping it into his mouth. ]
Almost time, huh.
[ To himself, with his mouth full. Because he's terrible at recon. ]
[ FRICK & FRACK ]
[ It's not really in Mikazuki's nature to be celebratory after a job well done. A job well done is still just that: a job done and not much more. But it is in his nature to be hungry after a job. This late, most of the marketplace is closed or too loud for him without the buffer of familiarity and the fondness it breeds in him. All the traffic has shifted districts — and with his 'station' quiet, he follows. He could just keep snacking, or go home, but he's not ready to turn in yet, and Euphie would probably try to get him to stay.
(Sometimes he thinks he should stay, with a more youthful version of his honor drifting in and out of his head, but he's too wired these days, too full of a throe half-finished.)
So with that stone hewn from Thesa's prayers still glinting on his jacket, he enters the Redlight District and straight into Shades Darker, looking for none of the people or things that one might normally within these walls. Thankfully Mikazuki is far from normal in his disinterest save for the cast of his attention about the space he has a way of commanding.
Looking for somebody. No, somebodies. ]
sparsity) & amaterasu (illuminating), later starring eugene (presses) & shino (galaxycannon)What: guard work! mika and ammy kicking a fool out of a bar.
When: early september.
Where: the anchor, a bar in the market district. eventually shades darker.
Warning(s): a little violence and intimidation? mentions of the redlight district but nothing major.
[ AMMY ]
[ It starts with a patrol or two. Since accepting the position Ashti offered him on Olympia's guard and the subsequent task attached to it, Mikazuki has had the phantom taste of familiarity in his mouth. Of Martian dust, cold and coppery, back when he'd first joined that little paramilitary that paved the way for being... well, here. He doesn't think about those first steps anymore. Guard work isn't new to him, but it's the first time he's been left to deal with a job as he sees fit. Which has him parked across the street from The Anchor, a small but lively neighborhood bar in the heart of the Market District. A place where the hard-working locals came to unwind before heading home for the night so they could get up the next day and do it all over again. He's silent in his unspoken reverence of it, leaning with his arms folded over a decorative streetside rail twisted with ivy-like vines.
Even in the city, it's warm and bright. Life flourishes wherever he looks. On quieter nights, his attention strays to it a little longer than usual.
But tonight isn't a quiet night. After having crossed paths with this bar a few times, Mikazuki knows the place is raucous at its best. It's made moreso by the lumbering form of a man behind the windowpanes, swinging his weight around and causing the noise to dial up. Mikazuki shifts plainly, black uniform making him seem more compact than normal but no less inconspicuous for the shining stone fixed to his breast. Mostly, his moving around is to get at his coat pocket, pulling out some dried fruit and popping it into his mouth. ]
Almost time, huh.
[ To himself, with his mouth full. Because he's terrible at recon. ]
[ FRICK & FRACK ]
[ It's not really in Mikazuki's nature to be celebratory after a job well done. A job well done is still just that: a job done and not much more. But it is in his nature to be hungry after a job. This late, most of the marketplace is closed or too loud for him without the buffer of familiarity and the fondness it breeds in him. All the traffic has shifted districts — and with his 'station' quiet, he follows. He could just keep snacking, or go home, but he's not ready to turn in yet, and Euphie would probably try to get him to stay.
(Sometimes he thinks he should stay, with a more youthful version of his honor drifting in and out of his head, but he's too wired these days, too full of a throe half-finished.)
So with that stone hewn from Thesa's prayers still glinting on his jacket, he enters the Redlight District and straight into Shades Darker, looking for none of the people or things that one might normally within these walls. Thankfully Mikazuki is far from normal in his disinterest save for the cast of his attention about the space he has a way of commanding.
Looking for somebody. No, somebodies. ]
she'd be the cop who always has to stop for doughnuts.
Wolves will be wolves—opportunistic—and the sudden greeting of her muzzle under his fingers is an attempt to snatch one of his treats, but he's interrupted before he can grab more. He gets a disappointed murmur, and she steps back to stick her head under the coat and pocket, searching for access to the bounty she can smell inside, leaving only her body and slightly curved, horizontal, faintly waving tail in view beside him.
Her sniffing is loud and determined, and when she can't find the hole to get into, she pinches the square from the inside of his coat to tug. …Hi, Mikazuki. Sorry she's not making your job any easier right now.]
honestly so is he how does any crimefighting get done around here
Hey, yourself. [ A quick, wide brush of his palms against the spot between her ears. ] Here, wait a second.
[ Warding her nose away and pulling his jacket loose with a soft fluff of the fabric, he fishes around for a handful of snacks, cupping them in his palm and turning it out towards her. All tasks done well should have a little fuel to help out, right? ]
There, since you asked.
[ And niceties escape him, anyway. ]
them sitting in a patrol vehicle with aviator glasses and empty donut boxes on the dash.
That natural open-mouthed way of eating means there's some saliva drenched bits that go flying away from her teeth, and her crunching slows gradually, as if she's only just realizing what she's tasting. Fruit is delicious, and she loves most human food, but this is barely like most fruits, fruit-flavored as it is. Or meat. Or cake. It's… needlessly crunchy. She gives him an unconvinced whimper, as though she can't believe he'd eat this, she can't believe she'd eat it, and yet… she goes on eating, because that's who she is.
One of her eyes squints skeptically in the midst of chewing, and she's honestly wondering if she needs to fetch him groceries. Real food. He's a growing boy.]
a couple of loose cannon cops who don't play by the rules (of a well balanced breakfast)
Pulling another out of his pocket, he hums aloud, balancing it on his lip before crunching down. Come on, Ammy. Banana chips are awesome. ]
You didn't like it?
[ He gives her muzzle a gentle chuck up, much more open than he might be towards a fellow human. ]
Well... I suppose an actual warm meal sounds good, too.
[ He glances over his shoulder at The Anchor as an unspoken, "But." ]
no subject
It's all customary. It doesn't really do anything to answer things for her, so she settles back, glancing at him again with curious groan.]
no subject
Hear that? [ How the voices inside are rising along with the general noises of clamor: the thunk of glasses, chairs screeching back on floors, heavy footsteps. ] Night after night, it's like that.
[ Dropping his hands from her fur, he lifts one to his breast, where Ashti's jewel shines in sunset colors. ]
It's my job to stop it.
no subject
Slowly, with high-pitched groans into it, she inches her forepaws on the hard ground to lay down, huffing once she's gotten there, both ears swinging back tightly at a hitch in the noises they're listening to. Otherwise, she doesn't appear to ruffled yet by anything.
Aren't bars always full of commotion? This thought, unheard, is practically conveyed with abrupt yawn. Maybe she doesn't visit them enough.]
no subject
Don't get too bored yet. Listen.
[ His own senses train, a conscious effort to fan them forward and mold to what's going on inside, picking up on the importance as it relates to the task at hand. It comes soon after, those thudding footsteps a precursor to glass shattering and a sudden wave of quiet among the noise. A voice rises up, something that sounds like a fist pounded against a countertop: — ever have the good stuff 'nyway! If I throw'n out all this piss water, you'd sure as hell better hand over what else y'got!
Nodding, Mikazuki pats his knees and climbs to a stand, more energized than daunted. ]
That's the one. Every time, it goes bad.
[ Does... does he sound chiding... ]
no subject
He earns her full attention at the patting to his knees, and she turns her muzzle to him, hopping to all fours with ease once he's standing. This kind of vitalization he's giving off making her feel more springy, she rounds him to look up at him from his other side now, already slashing her tail with keenly mounting interest.
What does he intend to do?]
no subject
Time to put an end to this.
[ Really, he seems sort of... intense. But strangely playful. Moving out from behind the rail, he gives a pragmatic nod of his head. ]
Want to go?