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(open) back to ordinary
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sparsity) & various & you!What: october plot - open prompts, closed starters.
When: various days in october.
Where: olympia & thesa.
Warning(s): violence, probably murder.
I. YOU'VE GROWN OUT OF US
[ All things considered, the events leading up to Olympia's current state are familiar in the way the lay of a skeleton is familiar, flesh stripped from bone, the impression of something once whole. Bare joints exposed, a working order, if not quite... right. Explosions rocking a populated area, terrified people, dubious claims opening up a chasm of blame for anyone free to explore. It leaves too much to people he doesn't trust. Too much like the colonies he saw falsely accused.
Years ago and yet fresh again, for all the subtleties he doesn't understand about it. All he knows is that people are ready to fight.
Mikazuki isn't really the vigilante sort, though he's moving through the streets of Olympia like he is, eyes trained and alert as he glances down alleyways he passes, storefronts and establishments a little too dark. He's most familiar with the marketplace, as much as he's a familiar face there too. All its corners have been thrown with smoke, illness, and shadow. Electricity is in the air, the same sort after the announcement. Mikazuki tastes it as he rounds the bars he knows, looking no where near old enough to enter one and now not marked by Ashti's stone or uniform to signify he's patrolling them, instead dressed in somber neutrals.
His pace only slows when he comes across one of the posters strewn about the city, wide things pasted sideways to the front of a building. Broad daylight, people around, hunters, accomplices. None of that matters. Only the face on it matters, a boy no older than himself, blocky angles and friendly eyes.
Reaching up, he scrapes his nails across its topmost edge and tears it off, crumpling the pieces in his palms. To anyone within earshot that may have stopped in light of his display, he passes a glance to. ]
What?
[ Polite, as always. ]
II. AND YOU'VE BEEN DYING TO GO
[ Every so often, the liveliness of Olympia drives Mikazuki to space. Not because of the noise, but because the conflict this time isn't his noise. It's not Tekkadan, not their conflict, save for those here with him now in the crossfire again. That's the only loyalty he owes, the only allegiance he has. Except this one thing.
Show us we can trust you.
Those words shadow his footsteps as he makes his way through Thesa and into the hangar, the chilly smell of alloy and fuel stinging pleasantly in his nose. He knows his way by heart now, just like he knows his way by heart through the stasis units on Alria to the one he visits day after day. It's quiet up here, compared to the surface below. There's an odd shuttle that takes off or docks in a whir of hydraulics, the natural shift and boom of metal, even at rest. But it's not any of the mass produced training machines that he's focused on as his footsteps thud across the catwalk lining the hangar perimeter, secured in front of the mobile suits. No, it's farther down that he focuses on, where the makes of suits starts to shift. Eventually, he slows next to a hulking white machine, crowned and clawed in gold. ]
Sleeping like usual. [ With no one else around him, he's actually addressing the suit. Hands in pockets, his gaze travels up and up, settling on its clean, quiet face plate. Repaired from that moment he was brought, breathing, to Thesa. ] I wonder what you'd want to do about this, too.
[ ...if there was any doubt that he's legitimately talking to a robot. ]
(ooc. closed starters below, if you'd like something specific feel free to hit me up here, rivalry, or axia#4656!)
no subject
It doesn't matter if his hand casts the final wager or not.
Mikazuki's bet is reckless, but it puts a smile on Takasugi's face. Even as he casts a simple three match set, a move which increases the bet but leaves Mikazuki in an advantageous position for the next round.
All of Takasugi's silver added to the pot, anyone who wants to challenge his companion will have to go all-in, as well.
Some do, some fold, cutting their losses with enough to buy a drink or two to nurse their bad luck away. When the turn comes back to Mikazuki, there's only luck to look to for whether he wins or loses.]
no subject
With the silver piled high and both the circle and walls broken beyond repair, Mikazuki waits for the next person to cast. The tiles go down, discarded, and Mikazuki doesn't even blink as he retrieves one.
Settling it against his rack, Mikazuki looks at his procured tiles intently, the tips of his fingers rubbing against one another, wrists against the edge of the table. A second passes and he reaches to push it around — four red flowers, 1-4 blue numbers, 5-8 bamboo. Two winds. ]
no subject
Takasugi's poise contrasts sharply, leaning away from the circle, relaxed but no less focused. The play before him isn't a simple game, not a quick move for profit or for the sake of learning. Mikazuki snatches his tile with the intent to win.
And, to the chagrin of their observers, he does. What's revealed isn't an incredibly impressive hand, but it's above the partial straights others have been trying to build.
He takes his turn with little-diluted delight, flipping his tray around with a swish of his finger. Two pairs, and four black flowers.] Looks like I'm out.
[And so is everyone else at the table, judging by the scowls on their faces.]
no subject
It'd been a win, but he hadn't intended to do anything other than vie for his place once he'd gotten the motions down. His expression may have told otherwise, but there were no feints, no sleights.
Stepping back from his chair, he pauses at Takasugi's side. ]
It won't always be like that. But it wasn't bad, this time.
[ Shaking the coins around, he pinches the middle of the pouch, halving it. One half he empties into his pocket, the other he tosses to Takasugi.
No sleights, just Mikazuki brightly taking what opportunity gives him. ]
no subject
Maybe someday, they'd bet against one another.
Seems like fun.
As the tiles are gathered into a pile and the game reset, the din fades, complaints only uttered under the breath of the losers.]
Aa. Though I doubt this was beginner's luck. [Takasugi catches the pouch of silver and tucks it away. Mikazuki is welcome to the half he took, a gain well won.]
You've got quite the bloodthirsty approach. [He's not offering a warning - it's a compliment.]
no subject
[ Gambling in an official capacity, that is. Mikazuki states it casually, quiet among the other sounds of establishment still carrying on. He can't even call his bets in a fight gambling, though maybe putting his body on the line for money was no different than putting money on the line for money.
Things equal out, in any case. The second statement doesn't have him looking at Takasugi either as he turns to make his way out. ]
Yeah? [ A genuine question, at least. ] I just go into it thinking I won't lose.
no subject
Or, in the very least, that's what Takasugi would bet on.]
Heh. [He wonders if that boldness includes an understanding of what the risk of loss entails.
Either way, Takasugi can't help but want to see where a mentality like that takes him.]
See you around, Mr. Pro Gambler. [A lazy wave ushers Takasugi's farewell, before he turns to find the bar himself.]