dec and jan catch all [closed]

[shikomizue]

Who: Takasugi Shinsuke (shikomizue) & various
What: Catch-all for December / January
When: Throughout December / January
Where: Thesa, will edit as necessary
Warning(s): Alcohol use, Drug use, probably some PTSD/vivid war flashbacks, graphic violence

[Individual starters in the comments!]

Comments

. mikazuki

[shikomizue]

[Piloting has never been Takasugi's focus - he doesn't care to stand at the helm of a ship in the literal sense. Figuratively is enough. But he wouldn't be much of a leader if he couldn't steer the hulking machinery he relied upon, so he's learned the basics.

Which appear to be all there is to these Natha craft. He'd glanced into the cockpit with no expectations of competency - alien technology varied beyond what anyone could comprehend. It's useless to be surprised anymore.

Even by something turning up more universal than expected.]

Simple enough, huh? [Takasugi invited his taciturn companion along to keep only one variable in his first piloting venture in a long while. No need to meet someone new and fumble with a ship's navigation. Someone who knows space in some capacity suits a task like this.

As does someone who has proven his efficiency in so many other realms.

Takasugi climbs into the cockpit without much hesitation, fastening his safety belt and flicking his thumb over a switch or two without tripping them. Intuitive as the system is, the tech still feels foreign and cold to his touch.]

[sparsity]

[ Truthfully, this would be his first time attempting something like this too. Mikazuki is a seasoned pilot, but everything he'd ever done had been dependent on the metal wreathed throughout his spine, delivering his machine's electrical impulses directly to his brain, his nerves. Trading system for synapse, coating his eyes in an odd glow.

He might still have his implants, but the interface here is all manual, his own machine still locked up tight beneath the Natha's palms. Still, it's try or crash. So Mikazuki takes the other side, hitting the safety harness and sussing out the controls.

None are familiar to him either, but he's been through the motions in his mind enough times to have confidence he can pilot this. ]

Seems like it.

[ Though they won't really know until they get out there. ]

[shikomizue]

Then let's head out. [Spoken as if the venture is routine, a blasé remark to signal their departure. Takasugi's fingers hover from knob to switch, a keypad - he learns the controls as he searches for the ignition.

When he locates it he flips it with no delay, a characteristic hiss of air between small metal cracks announcing the ship's awakening. Then comes the dull thrum of the motor, a metronome with slow rhythm that fades almost immediately into the silence of space.

They sail from the hangar without issue, Takasugi's grasp of the interface settling into comfort before they clear the bay doors. He keeps them slow, drifting, a moment to let his eye adjust to the black blotted with flickers of light.

A sight he's never cared for, even now his view narrowing. His smile remains placid, as it always does when he's reduced to only glowering at what he hates, what he wishes he could tear into.

But the ship lurches, thrusters sputtering before blasting them forward at an accelerated pace. With little handling enhancement to compensate.] Ah-

[Takasugi spares a glance to Mikazuki before focusing on righting the anomaly, not in distress but without an immediate solution.]

[sparsity]

[ There's nothing to say or do in light of that statement except simply go, and while the ship is manual, it still imbues his body with an inhuman hum. It seemingly obeys on the thought alone rather than the slight press and tilt of his palms against the controls, a welcome familiarity in the open expanse of nothingness, stars too remote to think about touching. Leave it to the others to romanticize a wasteland, no different than the one he grew up in. This one just had prettier dust.

Still, the smoothness of space begins to rumble under the weight of that connection that Mikazuki can't immediately recognize. It's not through his spine, though the line of his implants seems to surge, ghost-like.

Mikazuki is already looking aside when Takasugi glances to him amid the strange grind, invisible metals meeting. ]

It's reacting.

[ Spoken aloud as if the ship is a third presence between them. ]

. sansa

[shikomizue]

[The girl with hair bright as fire isn't the only refugee to wander the docking bay, without a partner and without the boldness, or perhaps the reason, to embark aboard a ship. Takasugi has seen many pass and linger, only to disappear with the crowd as the hour drifts later and later. He may look like one of these wanderers himself, loitering and watching the spacecraft engines ignite.

But he observes with no wonder, only the dull gaze of someone who's seen it all before.

Countless times, though he distinctly remembers the flames of ships both enemy and his own. There may be a war coming to the Natha, but it won't be his to fight.

In the late hour his ruminating grows repetitive, enough for him to break the cycle and his stare to approach the nearest spectator, a girl who has refused to fade into the backdrop of metal and searing light.] Do you think it's a beautiful sight?

[He doesn't.]

[unprays]

[ she watches, and waits. waits for a familiar sight, a faint hope that she might see her brother amongst those who run to the ships made of metal — a part of her still hopes that Robb isn't sleeping.

(it's a very small part; any hope she has left is burning out like a candle.)

she makes no attempt to approach anyone who is heading to the ships. there is nothing she can offer them, no expertise, no knowledge. the ships are shining and alien to her, and she watches them both with fascination and suspicion.

at least until the man who has stood there for a long time finally speaks to her. ]

Beautiful? [ she echoes, like she hasn't even thought of it. ] ... no. But they are impressive. [ untrustworthy, she thinks, weird and scary and powerful. she had found the dragons beautiful — these metallic ships are too neat, too technological for her to find beauty in them. ]

[shikomizue]

[The girl sounds more distant than the stars surrounding them; nothing could have made Takasugi vest his interest more immediately. He turns from the rows of vessels to the girl more squarely, smile placid.]

They'll stop looking that way soon. [Just as the rich clouds of nebulous color in space have long since ceased to be wondrous.]

You should catch a ride before all of the novelty wears off. [Standing and watching them come and go, one might start seeing the ships as insects swarming a hive.]

. gintoki

[shikomizue]

[In comparison to his rented shambles of apartments on Nysa, the quarters aboard Thesa station are luxurious in their comfort. Pristine, sanitary walls, a bed with artificial warmth, and light other than the flicker of flame are all accommodations that enable better sleep.

But Takasugi finds nothing helps him drift off quite like glass after glass of liquor. And a few breaths of the ashes staining the bowl of his pipe black.

What time he wandered into his room for the night Takasugi doesn't know, hours in space obscured by the surrounding blackness. He's alone, he's not changing into the station provided set of sleepwear - he's sitting on his bed to stare over the emptiness of the room until his vision blurs and he slouches to the side, unconscious.]

. mess

[yorozuya]

[When had the chrome lining the hallways grown brighter? Gintoki wasn't sure. He'd sauntered (read: stumbled) through the labyrinthine hallways for hours (read: minutes), but his red eyes finally grew tired after he'd rounded the corner of another corridor. His step slowed... and the samurai relented. He ducked into his room.

Or what he thought was his room in order to escape the brightness that was beginning to pound into his skull. (The room he'd been staying in was around here somewhere, he swore.)

His boots squeaked against the floor as he tripped over his feet - though he doesn't fall. Instead he managed to drag his descent into a lurching motion before passing out into the first bed he found. His knees were folded, his form bowed before the mattress god as if he begged for it to swallow him whole.

... Who was he kidding? Of course he begged for it to swallow him up. To suck him back into a vacuum to rest with the thousands of slumbering bodies that sit in the decks deep below.

His vision blurred, his eyes never truly adjusting before his consciousness tunneled around him and faded.]

. dont make fun of my edgy format

[shikomizue]

[No amount of alcohol in his blood could overtake the swell of adrenaline that crests when the door to the cabin opens. Takasugi's alone, he's intended to be alone, and the disruption of his surroundings is an alarm to his senses.

Even if his body can't keep up with his instincts.

Takasugi's eye opens, his breath a shuddered choke as he tries to sit up, only to drag his head against the metal wall at the head of his cot.

It's too damn bright, and what's entered is a gleam that makes his stomach churn.

A familiar ghost.

One he can't welcome with anything but a grimace, a distinctly acidic taste on his tongue and in his throat that reminds him the room is spinning and he needs to rest his head.

He collapses, view of the specter obscured by a crumpled limb.

The company keeps him awake, each breath a singed mark in his chest, regardless of whether he's been visited by the man himself or simply a walking memory. Dull, unfocused, he stares, vision dimming as his eye grows accustomed to the light.]

. gintoki

[shikomizue]

[Tacked on, like the sort of afterthought that comes out through clenched teeth because its the biggest inconvenience, to Takasugi's briefing was the detail that he'd be meeting his partner at the site of plunder.

When he arrives, sky deep with stars, crisp air mingling with the musty scent of the cavern's entrance, there's no one waiting for him.

That's fine.

Working alone has its own benefits.

Takasugi doesn't stick around, waiting for his (not even late yet) companion to arrive. The entrance has crumbled, stones cracked and littered with fractures. But there's no dust - someone's been here recently. He's not the first to loot.

Slipping in, Takasugi's breath slows, the scent of mold and dust stifling. His steps are careful, but not hesitant, as he surveys the initial hall.

There are rumors that this place is haunted, but all Takasugi sees are the rusted metal workings of old traps, cracked foundation, and a chunk of wall taken out to reveal a black path deeper than the eye can see, a hollow howl lilting within.

He sees where those rumors come from, even if they're nothing but-

A crash, Takasugi twists around to find the source of the sound. A rig tripped? A cave in?

No.

Looks like his partner has arrived.]

Ah-?

[There really are ghosts here.]

[yorozuya]

[Somehow, as the albino attempted to slip into the ruins - he had tripped. A bent and gnarled working of metal had caught his boot. The momentum sent him churning until he fell backward onto his shoulders and neck. His legs flopped down uselessly, framing his head as his butt stood like a beacon.

He blinks slowly as his brain catches up with him, only to see a sight that had him rethinking just how badly he needed the money for this job.

Gintoki doesn't move from his rather slapstick pose, even as a sneer crosses his face. Their eye contact is fleeting, as red eyes glance to disconnect and shed their burden.]

Oi, oi. Don't tell me ya scared off my partner-

[It was simply a wish that perhaps they hadn't been picked to plunder the same place. That maybe his own partner was late and... well this shady guy over here had simply stumbled into picking at the same treasure-]

[shikomizue]

[Willfully, tempered by years of practice in the balance of frustration and restraint, Takasugi looks past Gintoki's ass-up pose to meet his eye. Whatever confidence gleams there - for whatever reason - he's sure it's misplaced.

Gintoki has gotten better at many things in his time, he's sure; one of the championing skills being delusion.]

Wouldn't know. Didn't hear anything about partners.

So stay out of my way. [Speaking of delusion Takasugi goes a step further than Gintoki, brushing off the entire system in place for this job. Two people can plunder independently, and really

Takasugi's inclined to let Gintoki go first - go ahead and trip all of the traps for him, idiot.]

. mikazuki

[shikomizue]

[ I've got a job for you. and a certain market booth on one of Olympia's less traveled streets is all Takasugi told Mikazuki before they met. Face to face, he'd simply cocked his head with his usual placid smile.]

We're going on a search. How's five hundred silver sound?

[Good enough, Takasugi assumes - he doesn't wait for an answer. Their path is winding, a few booths passed with fleeting interest as he leads Mikazuki through the streets, the seldom shops still burning their midnight oil closing one after another.

By the time they reach the district of the institute, the windows of the residences around them are as dark as the sky above. But the warped black of antique glass does nothing to make the buildings look any less ostentatious.

As if bold architecture, standing sentinel over the streets, could fool the onlooker into believing it has something worth keeping watch over. All Takasugi sees are trophies of self-satisfaction, as meaningless as the people they house.

Takasugi hates it enough to consider making their entrance through shattered glass and bent metal.

But if there's going to be a fight, it will have to be on the way out.]

Ever been inside? [Mikazuki's experience working for Olympia - however brief - may be helpful, though Takasugi doesn't know enough of it to be certain.]

[sparsity]

Once. [ His brevity is even more acute this way. ] Closer to when I first got here.

[ Though he'd agreed to come, he also followed the path to Olympia alongside Takasugi in complete silence. Money was a good motivator and Mikazuki had never withheld that fact from the other man — it helped that the Gilded Cage was perpetually nearby and always had an abundance of it, for the right kind of effort. This is a different beast though, and Mikazuki looks upwards at the silhouette of the Institute, darkness drawn by darkness.

Olympia's streets are familiar to him in make only. He'd patrolled them well enough when that seemed the best way to offer his compliance to the Natha. Now that he knows better, he regards it with that same animal brightness, wary and alert. ]

[shikomizue]

[Once.

Takasugi's chuckle is as sharp as Mikazuki's reply.] No reason to stand around, then.

[There's no making a plan when neither of them know enough about the building's veins to slip in fluidly. Information from the Guilded Cage informant detailed a few less secure entrances, doors disguised among ornate panels of wall along the side of the building.

Might as well try those first.

Takasugi slips from the front face of the building and into the shadow at its side, more strolling than sneaking along its breadth. Once the hedges stop and sheer wall begins, he outstretches his hand, running rough fingers over smooth painted stone.

They spread, fanned over each feature beneath them, until they curl into a crack, and press on a latch. With a 'click' the door parts to reveal an interior darker than the moonlight night outside.

A glance to Mikazuki, and then Takasugi slips in.

What they've entered is a hallway, sprawling and dark, lights just bright enough to make out multiple paths not far ahead.] So. Which way you want to go?

[Doesn't matter to him - they'll be lost no matter where they turn.]

. cain

[shikomizue]

[Brute force is Takasugi's preference for this job. Not that launching a guerrilla attack alone is ideal, but it's nothing he hasn't done before.

He closes in on the cart, dirt too damp for his feet to scuff. He announces himself with his blade, driving it into a man's back, metal grinding against the bone of his spine. With a cry that echos in the caws of crows, the man's death spurs his comrades into action.

Takasugi twists his blade free and lunges, slicing through the knees of a man striking towards him. They all fight back, each swinging their weapon to clash steel against steel. Until the last man falls, sputtering face down in his own blood.

And not a moment too soon. The clink of his sword sliding into its sheath is overshadowed by the footfalls of someone approaching.

Not that he's worried, seeing who's joined him.]

Yo, you hear it too? [Takasugi greets Cain with the same smug confidence he usually carries, offset only by a light sheen of sweat. It is humid, after all...]

[baguablade]

[ Takasugi standing over corpses isn't what Cain had expected to find upon coming to investigate the sounds of battle. Corpses, maybe. Takasugi, no. Cain pauses a moment at the edge of the clearing, staring. His eyes are wide as he takes in the grisly scene: the stopped cart, the nervous, snorting draft animals, the blood sinking into the damp road, and Takasugi. Takasugi, his hand near his sword, standing amidst the carnage.

Cain takes a deep breath. His gaze darts down to Takasugi's clothes, searching for any telltale signs, scuffs of dirt, rips and tears, spatters of blood. Anything that will tell him if Takasugi was involved in the fight, or is just coming upon the scene as he claims to be. ]

I heard it. [ No warmth in his voice. Even if Takasugi's telling the truth, Cain's still not pleased to see him. ] It seems like they didn't put up much of a fight.

[shikomizue]

[He doesn't stay standing for long. Takasugi crouches, plucking a battered and bloodied dagger from the hand of one of the dead men. If he'd been marked by blood before, it's obfuscated now by the deep dye of red that soaks into the hem of his yukata, and along his thigh - brushing the cart as he stands.]

Don't speak ill of the dead. [Turning the knife over in his hand only once, Takasugi steps over the pillaged corpse and lays a hand flat on the crate they'd been transporting.] I'm sure they clung to life with all they had.

[No warmth in his voice either - a callous reassurance devoid of any sympathy.

More like a joke, really.]

. enjolras

[shikomizue]

[Their rendezvous has been set for a certain bar, with no particular time. The name of the establishment isn't important - it isn't even on display on the store front - and the patrons inside never speak it. To them, what matters is the quantity of the alcohol and the quality of the silence.

There's no raucous laughter here, only groaning and muttering of men who have found themselves in such a rut that even their complaining is routine.

The first time Enjolras came to meet Takasugi, he'd been told by a drunkard that his associate had left for the night. And to return on a certain night - tonight - for what the alcoholic describes with no hidden jealousy as a 'drink on him to make it up to you'.

He won't be stood up twice. Enjolras's comparative youth to the rest of the clientele makes him easy to pick out when he enters. Takasugi raises a hand, beckoning him over with a lazy wave.] Yo. Doing well, Soldier of Revolution?

[idealisme]

[Living with someone prone to excess drinking has made Enjolras uninterested in drinking for its own sake, so when he returns its with no interest in the promised drink. He's here for one thing only.

His shoulders are stiff when he enters, but as he approaches the bar he relaxes.] I do as well as those around me. And you?

[shikomizue]

[A single-mindedness Takasugi will grow to respect, when it becomes apparent. Which won't take long, if Enjolras's directness from the network carries over into his casual conversation.

Takasugi raises a hand to the bartender, signaling for two drinks. Comparable to whiskey, the liquor is strong and as aged in color as the decor.

He laughs, as well as those around me in this place translates to 'like shit'.]

Making do. [He lifts his glass, a tilt given to Enjolras - the only formality he'll offer - and takes a slip.] Did you come to hear stories about the past?

Or to discuss the future?

. mai

[shikomizue]

[Reliable as a simple delivery is to line Takasugi's pockets, he isn't inclined to offer his service regularly. A day marked by considerable recklessness - maybe its the rain, maybe its the dwindling amount of tobacco from home in his satchel - is his impetus this time.

Though he's quick to find something more than money to gain.

Running the circuit of a drug market, however innocuous the route may be, it's easy to get a sense of the narcotic's effects. What about it makes people crave it?

He doubts its the taste.

Bundle held at his side, Takasugi weaves the winding streets of Wyver, stopping only to deposit the allotted number of pastries. At his first destination, there's a girl with dark hair departing, carrying a load. And the people inside seem a bit confused as to his arrival. They're not low on stock.

At his second destination, the same woman enters as he exits; Takasugi casts her a lingering glance over his shoulder as he takes to the road once more.

At his third destination, he waits for her outside of the sundry shop's doorway.] I have a feeling I know where you're headed next.

[The same place as him - a bar that doubles as a gambling parlor, regardless of the hour of the day. It postures as somewhere 'legit', but no idiot would believe that for a second.]

[maipokerface]

Seems like it.

[Wasn't it a little risky to have two people assigned the same route? She's not about to question the intelligence of whoever sets things up at the Gilded Cage though. An idea strikes her and she gestures for him to walk with her.]

Probably be easier for us to just go together. Just be friends out on a walk, you know?

[Honestly Mai's not keen on peddling around drugs but she's keen enough on money and gaining some kind of security for those from her world still sleeping with the Natha that it helps ease her mind a little.]

[shikomizue]

[Their collision is likely a mistake, and thankfully a minor one. Repeated information could cost a man his life, in more dire situations. Simply playing errand boy, Takasugi isn't able to begrudge the error.

Might as well make use of it.] Aa. [He agrees and turns in close, walking in proximity that strangers seldom share.] So... friend,

I'm sure this isn't the most interesting task you've taken at the behest of a bird in a cage. [Trite conversation to make their ruse more believable, though he's not overlooking the opportunity to probe the woman. She's familiar, a face he could have seen slipping between the draped cloth and dim lights of the Guilded Cage.]