singillatim | a late summer catchall

august

i: methuselah's feast [ota]

a. [ It becomes clear with the first new faces that make it to Milton that more people have arrived. They're the first crowd since Makoto arrived here, and on some level he'd hoped maybe his group were the last. He moved out of the hall, just in time it seems. To where? Only those that that live close enough know that he's been working on fixing up a small house on Greene street; an open secret of sorts. Anyone passing by is a free audience member for the sound of Makoto's successes and failures from inside. Sometimes, he can be found slumped on the repaired steps of his porch looking exhausted. Makoto finds the energy for a little laugh and a joke tossed to anyone that doesn't glare too hard at him as they walk by-- ]

Never knew being a homeowner was so much work. Hey, I don't suppose you live around here too, do you?

b. [ Even with a newly livable space, Makoto spends more time loitering near the community hall to welcome people. They should see at least one smiling face in all the doom and gloom, he thinks. Newcomers aren't hard to spot, even if Makoto didn't already know most of the interloper's faces by now. Less new residents get a thinner smile-- ]

Man, how many do you think showed up this time?

ii: tea time [ota | 2 people max]

[ tw: grepre spoilers, murder, guns, death, distress ]
[ I probably won't need it but there is a lot here, so I'm limiting this to 2 people ]

click here for prompt:

[ Makoto jumps, drawing a sharp breath when he runs into the strange old woman in the woods. Once he actually looks at her properly, his shoulders drop in relief. He follows her, adjusting the bundle of prey tied together and slung over one shoulder as he does. Rabbits, some bludgeoned and some with punctures from surprisingly precise teeth. He hardly has any time to question what she's doing out here before they've arrived before a fire. If anyone else is there already, they get a polite nod as he sits across from them. His catches of the day get carefully nestled between his feet.

Her questions and the conversation eventually eases his caution, careful as he is with sharing too much information about the technical details of Milton. He's in his element with someone as eager to listen as this old woman is. Makoto weaves tales of his time spent in Singapore, London, Los Angeles, Paris, and Nice. Of course, the details are tailored to fit the respectable sides of his business in each location. Genuine thoughts, events, and people are all expertly mixed to effortlessly hide the omissions. He'll discuss his work in trading, import and export, all across Asia and the middle east. As he mentions his love of coffee, she offers him tea.

Makoto glances to anyone else that's joined before or since his arrival. But she's pointedly only asking him. His choice of tea is a whim, wary as he looks from her to the melted snow. Rosehip. It's been a while. ]

Uh, thank you.

[ Is all he can say when he's palmed the tea and she busies herself with more cups for anyone else. Although Makoto smiles, he also hesitates. As she shuffles off to the woods again, Makoto takes a sniff. If only this were coffee. The woman is the friendly, and Makoto figures she's gotten all the stories from him that she wanted. Maybe she's off to find more people to join them. Makoto regards her as she disappears from the light of the fire, before taking a deep breath before a small sip with his eyes shut. ]

Oh, wow, it's actually pretty good.

[ He says it almost to himself, blinking in surprise down at the tea. More sips, before turning to anyone else who's been there or just arrived-- ]

Are you going to try some? It's actually not bad and she seems nice, right?

[ And then--

Suddenly, a scene opens up behind his eyes. The sun is bright overhead, the sea stretching out endlessly on every side of the yacht a group of people find themselves on. Makoto's breath catches, shuttering as the events play out before him. One he recognizes, but wishes he didn't. It's a feeling he'll never forget, down to his core. Lies or not, this was always real for him.

"God damn you!" Makoto all but snarls as his hands fly up to fist in the collar of a far older man that seems far too calm. Behind them stands a beautiful old woman dressed in a traditional kimono, all elegance and authority. The man next to her wears a tailored suit, flashier than Makoto's own. Makoto's is classier in its simplicity, obscured beneath the weights strapped to him.

"Prove your loyalty to the Director. Eliminate those two with your own hands." is the older man's coolly delivered directive to Makoto, laced with exasperation as he offers up his gun. His hair is a duller brown than Makoto's, just as long and messy.

"I'd rather die myself." Makoto vehemently responds, voice so thick and heavy by the end that it's a guttural sound, dripping with unadulterated hate for the man in front of him. No one in Milton has ever heard Makoto like this.

"It's okay Edamame." another woman's voice calls out from the bow of the boat. Makoto's expression breaks into a softer one of confusion. His white knuckles relax as he turns to look over at the redhead. She's older than him, younger than the woman in the kimono but somehow just as elegant even with her hands bound behind her back. Beside her is a shorter woman close to Makoto's age, bound just as tightly. Both of their gazes stay fixed on Makoto and both wear a set of weights matching Makoto's. The taller woman goes on, with little feeling, "Screw up and we'll dump you, remember?"

"But, I'm the one who screwed up." Makoto says as he stands, voice cracking as despair crawls up his throat.

"No, you're not." her correction is cold, like an unenthused teacher reprimanding a student. "As long as you're still breathing in the end, you're the one that pulled it off."

"Just get on with it." the girl with dark eyes and darker hair cuts in, impatient as she turns to face Makoto

"Abbie..." his voice matches the stricken expression he casts toward the younger woman.

"If I were in your shoes, I would've pulled the trigger already." Abbie says, just as impatiently. The bound women are both far too calm given their situation, a foil to Makoto's obvious distress.

"Stop acting tough. You wouldn't do it either." Makoto croaks out the words like he believes them even while his whole world is crumbling.

"We are not a team." the redhead's even voice slaps Makoto in the face, twisting the anguish in his expression. "We're not friends. We're not family."

"I-I could never hurt you guys. There's just, there's no way--" Makoto struggles to get the words out. Before he can manage any more, two shots ring out from the gun in the older man's hand.

First the redhead falls, and then Abbie. Droplets of blood fly as their bodies tumble back over the railing. Eerie silence follows the splash of water. Makoto's eyes are wide, gaze glued where they were only just standing. Alive. Breathing. In Makoto's shocked stillness, he doesn't even breathe.

Something snaps in Makoto. His breath begins coming in progressively heavier bursts as his expression crumples into pure rage. His teeth clench with a growl.

"It's a parent's job to clean up after their kid--" the older man never gets to finish that sentence before Makoto's fist connects hard against his cheek. Two henchmen double Makoto's size are quick to grab him.

"Get off me, god dammit--" Makoto yells as they hold him back. He struggles physically, verbally to get at his father again.

"I'm sorry for making such a scene, do you think you could find it in yourself to forgive my son?" the older man, Makoto's father, is pleasant as he directs his question toward the old woman in the black and white kimono.

"Forgive him for what? The Shanghai group are such savage barbarians." she responds, laced with disdain for Makoto's father. It's as palpable as the sincerity in her voice when she turns to Makoto. "Do you hate him, Edamura?"

Makoto falls quiet at the question and the soft tone she uses to ask it. He stills, body tense.

"I'm truly sorry about your friends." the Director consoles Makoto with even more sincerity before admitting, "I know too well what it's like to lose someone you care so much about." There ends the soft tone, and her voice is back to business with a look to Makoto's father. "So here's my offer. Do whatever you want to that man."

"Director!" is his father's startled protest. "This must be some kind of joke. Didn't I prove my loyalty by telling you about their whole plan?"

"You are quite valuable. Which is why you won't be returning to Shanghai." the Director admits, smirking.

"Romance is over. This is the end of the line, Oz." adds the man beside her.

"Liu won't just sit quietly. Are you trying to start a war with Shanghai?" Oz tries again, openly grasping at straws.

"Ah, do you really think they'll go to all that trouble just for your sake?" the Director all but scoffs at him. "How childish. The earth keeps spinning even if you fall off the face of it."

She orders Makoto's release. His eyes remain on her until he steps toward the gun and picks it up and looks to his father. He holds it with deceptive calm, grip as loose as someone used to the weight of it. He stares daggers; cold yet increasingly swelling with tears as he points the gun at his pleading father.

"Makoto, calm down. I always loved you and your mother. I still do. Come on, I already told you how sorry I am for everything, didn't I? Besides, didn't those con artists say you aren't even friends? I didn't choose any of this. I joined Shanghai because I had no options. Just put the gun down. You have to trust me here. Please!" Oz finally cracks, expression turning manic as he begs for his life.

After a brief pause, Makoto pulls the trigger. Oz looks shocked, touching the blood at his chest before he falls into the sea, sinking to join the others in their grave.

Everything goes black, just in time for them both to awake to embers. And the jolt of a cry from Makoto, pale faced and chest heaving. ]

iii: you lying next to me [ota]

a. [ A startled cry echoes out in the wild with the snap of ice and the splash of water. Spluttering follows, with chattering teeth and the sound of clothes being stiffly pulled off. Coat, jacket, pants, he stops short of tearing through the soaked layers that have kept him warm. At whatever amount of clothing is gone when anyone shows up, save for the final layer, Makoto freezes like a shivering, clammy deer caught in bright headlights. His hair is wet, flattened to his head with droplets marking paths down skin tinging blue.

No matter who is catching him like this, he somehow sounds equally miserable as he does embarrassed as he slurs out stuttered words. ]

Uh, d-d-w-would you mind, t-turning around? P-please. I-I- b-f-fine, don't b-sss-scared o-or annnything.

[ psa: this is not a smut prompt. ]

b. Hey! Watch ou--

[ A voice echoes out from the fog, but it's too late. The ground beneath you gives way, fault line cracking from the direction of Makoto's voice just before you're quickly buried in snow from the incline of the terrain. Before Makoto has closed half the distance, you're trapped. You might miss seeing Makoto's slips and saves, though you probably won't miss the Dammit cursed under his breath or the earth protesting his footfalls at clambering speed. He's yelling, hoping he's heard as he drops to his knees to start desperately digging now that the ground has stopped moving for now. ]

Hold on! I'll get you out.

Edited 2024-08-19 06:49 (UTC)

closed starters

[What is it with every Tom, Dick and Harry wanting to move onto Chloe’s street these days?? Of course she has to check it out. She's snooping around when the guy calls out to her.]

Yeah, not too far. You new?

[He does look sort of familiar but these last few months have been pretty crazy.]

[ Her response earns her a friendly smile from Makoto. He's seen her before, probably. But it's doubtful that he knows her name, and he's certain they've never really spoken before now.

Cue friendly new neighbor tone of voice-- ]

Well, I guess you could say that. It's been a few months already, but some of you have been around way longer than that, right?

Yeah. I got nabbed just before the new year, so like… eight months and a bit?

[Almost a year. Christ.

She extends a hand.]

Chloe Frazer.

Oh, then you must be a pro by now.

[ Makoto removes one dusty scavenged glove before standing and extending his own hand to shake hers. ]

Makoto Edamura. Nice to meet you.

[ He might not look like he has it in him, but the shake is firm enough from confidence without any attempt at being overpowering. ]

So, have any advice for fixing up the place? I mean, it's livable, [ A glance back as he retrieves his hand to scratch at a cheek. ] I think.

[ Well, it's noticeably better than when he first started at least, but he is clearly no carpenter. At least it's one of the smaller houses on the block. ]

As much as you can be when everything changes every couple of weeks.

[Really, this is not the worst carpentry job that Chloe has seen here, though that's not saying much.

Unfortunately her own strategy is mostly to flirt with people until they do it for her, and she's not sure if that would work for this guy.]

Not the most beautiful, but if it keeps you warm that's what matters, right? The cops might be able to help you out. Raylan lives on this street and I know he was looking for work.

[ Noises like ice cracking or water splashing aren't so unusual out here, just like branches breaking, or the creepy wails treetops rubbing against each other in the wind sometimes cause. A yell of surprise, however? That's harder to mistake for anything it's not. ]

[ Levi stops in his tracks, turning toward the noise, and listens. There's nothing else he can immediately hear, but it's unsettled him enough that he decides to check it out anyway. He doesn't run -- wouldn't be effective with the snow anyway -- but his pace is certainly rather quick as he breaks away from the treeline. ]

[ It doesn't take long for him to reach the source of the cry -- a half naked man who seems to have, fortunately, managed to climb out of his predicament on his own, except he's now facing a whole other problem. He looks... somewhat familiar. ]

[ Levi frowns, setting down his backpack to rummage through his supplies for anything that could help -- and pauses at the request, his eyebrows rising just barely in confusion. ]

Is this really the time you're picking to be shy? Your junk's going to freeze off if you keep that on.

[ Nonetheless, he rolls his eyes and shifts around so that he's facing away from the embarrassing display as he digs out his flint and the square of fabric he uses for a tent, then unstraps his sleeping bag, provided Makoto doesn't have one or it seems to have gotten wet, as well. ]

Right...

[ Makoto's short laugh at that response is a bit of a broken, sheepish one. It's not like she's wrong, but as far he's concerned things have largely been looking up since the violence that erupted not too long ago. ]

Yeah, that's what really matters. I even fixed up the fireplace first and everything. Well, after I made sure I wasn't falling through the floor any time soon. [ A blink. ] Cops? [ The rest is almost under his breath as he trails off looking behind him at his new house again-- ] Do we really have any actual laws to uphold around here?

But all right, that sounds like a great idea. Think he'd work for food?

[ His backpack is indeed soaked, though marginally less so than Makoto himself. His own bag, his extra supplies for any potential newcomers; all of it is scattered near him. It probably isn't very hard to piece together that they preceded him onto the bank, tossed before the marks of him clawing his way up got etched into the ground. ]

Tch.

[ Is all Makoto shakily gets out in response. His relief at Levi ultimately turning around outweighs his spike of annoyance. The rest of his clothes join the pile with a wet plop. What follows on its heel is the sound of bones and form shifting, accompanied by a soft groan that shifts from human to distinctly not human. Any water lingering with the sudden increase in the surface area of thick fur gets shaken off by the instinctual movement from head to tail. With a low grumble of a growl, he gingerly picks up his clothes in his mouth and saunters over to where Levi has begun the preparation for a fire. It's clearly a practiced motion, as the very few punctures of his teeth are hidden beneath amateurly sewn patches.

Makoto is a big wolf in this form, standing slightly over four feet tall and six feet long. He's distinctly larger than any local gray wolves or timber wolves. It would be an intimidating creature if his head wasn't hanging so sheepishly low with clothes in its maw. He drops the pile wetly between them, underwear on top. At least they're clean.

As much as a wolf can look embarrassed, Makoto manages to look it when he sits. His ears flick and then flatten back as he looks away. White fur with dustings of grey down its back are better at keeping out the chill than any coat was the panicked logic, but now he doesn't have hands. ]

Cops back where they came from, but a bunch of them love to “patrol” here too. [Yes, she does the air quotes.]

I think he’d work just for a chance to get out of the house. Anything else is gravy.

Oh. Well, I guess that's a "nice" idea if they're just looking out for people. Actually arresting anyone without laws would be pretty unfair though, wouldn't it?

Is he really that bored?

I'm more worried about someone getting trigger-happy, personally.

[A lot of those guys carry guns and they're not the most emotionally stable bunch.]

He sounds like he's going pretty stir crazy. This is the poker guy.

Oh I agree, but what can the cops really do to prevent that?

Really? I'll have a lot for him to help with then. Poker guy, huh... [ There's a pause, as Makoto puts some pieces together before sounding sure of himself. ] I know-- he wears a cowboy hat too, right?

[ Billy is rather grateful for Makoto's arrival, really. It's so much easier for him to completely fade to the background next to someone this chatty - the opposite of what Billy is like. He doesn't offer a single word after greeting Makoto, just silently sitting there and staring at the fire as he hears Makoto speak on and on and on to the woman, the latter asking slight questions to keep him going.

He is listening though. As reluctant as he is to offer up anything about himself here, especially when he doesn't trust the woman and her drinks in the slightest, Billy is a nosy gossip to the bone, and he's making sure to commit everything Makoto tells that seems even slightly interesting to memory.

.. but then it all changes.

It's a strange feeling. Kind of like being swept off his feet, of being taken outside of his own body. For a moment it's like he's somewhere else, somewhere so unfamiliar that it takes a few moments for Billy's mind to even catch up with the situation he's witnessing. He might not even grasp the full extent of what just happened until he already finds himself back fully in his body, sitting in the snow where he had been right before the sudden shift.

Even if he's not as affected as Makoto, he still gasps at the entire wild sensation. He squeezes his hand with his other hand, like he's trying to prove to himself that he's still here, no matter what just happened. No-- Rather, no matter what he just witnessed. A memory?

...

Even if Billy didn't recognize all the signs other people might recognize from pop culture from a time much beyond his own, it's not like he's totally stupid. He can pick up on the hints in it. Something about all that had to do with organized crime, and Makoto was-- a victim to it? No, part of it in some way, it had seemed. He killed someone.

It's a stark contrast with the impression Billy had gotten of the other before, so weirdly chatty and open and weirdly nice.

Had the latter all been a front?

The fact that Makoto also needs to recover from that memory gives him a moment to think, to quickly organize his thoughts before Billy first speaks up. ]

So you are aware-- I saw that as well.

[ His gaze turns into Makoto's direction as he's saying it, like he wants to make sure to observe the other's reaction to that information. It could be telling. ]

[ Makoto flinches at Billy's question, sparing only a glance to the other to confirm the truth of it before his palms fall to his knees to ease the tremors. His shaky fingers dig into the fabric as his breathing slows and he blinks the wetness from his eyes. After a beat, Makoto attempts a tight response. ]

Then... I know how all that must've looked. [ A sigh, more tired than anything now that the trembling has slowed. When he manages to look over at Billy, the smile he offers is a slight one. There's rawness to it, paired with a vulnerability that makes it even more difficult to place his age. Layers of a difficult life lie behind his expressive but weary eyes, despite his baby face and kind expression. Billy had been nice to him. How could Makoto show his face to him if he didn't at least try to explain what he'd accidentally shared. He'd always been good at mixing in his own genuine feelings to hide the gaps and make his lies more believable. Total honesty is a different beast.

Makoto's gaze drops between them, as if looking at the other man's face directly would make it impossible to go on. It's already clearly an uncomfortable topic, fingers digging into his knees again. ]

You know, back then I actually believed they died. That it was all my fault too. But the whole thing-- it was just more lies. [ His breath of a laugh is self deprecatingly hollow-- ] They really got me good that time, didn't they?

... Don't worry though, they're all okay. At least, they were the last time I saw them. [ The relief is genuine, though in the next sentence it's swiftly replaced with the same venom he reserved for Oz in that memory-- ] Even if one of them is still dead to me.

[ It's probably not hard to figure out which person his contempt is saved for. Makoto's shoulders slump in defeat, anger dissipating as quickly as it sparked at the thought of his father. Frowning at the ground, Makoto steels himself for judgment. ]

But I'm guessing you still have plenty of questions though, right? That life's behind me now, so go ahead.

I mean the cops themselves! A lot of those guys patrolling carry guns.

Yeah, that's him, the cowboy hat guy. He lives on our street.

Dunno. Seems like a normal amount? Its kind of weird since we didn't have any last time.

[Which was for the best, considering what happened in June.]

Oh. [ Makoto blinks at that-- ] Well, they don't sound like very good cops then. But cop or not, most people carry guns around here anyway, don't they?

[ It's probably noticeable by now just how hard his accent in English is to place. Fluent and understandable, but a mishmash of different dialects cobbled together by someone that learned from people who came from very different parts of the English speaking world. ]

I'll be sure to ask him, thanks for the tip Ms. Frazer.

[ Yes, that title is used with full sincerity. And so he continues to believe most people he's met are older than him. At least this time he's right. ]

I wonder why? After no one showed up for a while, I was really hoping maybe no one else would have to deal with all of this.

[ Makoto glances a brighter smile toward the entrance of the hall, as if making sure none of the newcomers are paying any particular attention. But it doesn't survive the turn of his head back to Levi. )

Have we ever gone that long without new people before? Maybe it's slowing down?

[He shakes his head.]

No, that was the first time. All I can think is maybe it had something to do with, um, whatever you want to call happened that month.

[ Said sound is absolutely alarming, sickening even, but when Levi turns, he finds a wolf rather than a chewed up, regurgitated mess of flesh and bones that his subconscious seems to expect. Luckily, he's been introduced to Aurora Feats concept by now, so he figures it must be another one of those. ]

[ Nonetheless, he stares for a moment, then rolls his thin military blanket back up. ]

I'm not letting a dog into into my sleeping bag. [ He says flatly, a bit pointedly even, but then simply proceeds to work on the fire. It doesn't make him unwilling to help at all, at least. ] Doesn't look like you'd need it in that form, anyway.

[ In a minute or two, the fire starts smoking, and a small flame starts eating up the kindling Levi had managed to grab in a rush. He sighs and gets up to gather a few more fallen branches from the surrounding area, maybe even a piece of a log if he's lucky -- he does take a small axe out of his pack to that end. ]

[ Makoto is free to help -- with stuff he can carry in his jaws, at least -- or he can sit there and wait. It won't take long for Levi to come back with some proper firewood, and a few longer branches that will be turned into a makeshift rack to hang the other man's wet clothes the right distance from the fire. ]

Sure, lots of people do. [Chloe’s had guns pointed at her twice so far here in a way that had felt like they might really shoot her.] Mostly for the animals, though. The wolves here can be aggressive.

[He is younger than her but it's still weird! The only people who call her that are from super far in the past or doing weird BSDM stuff with her.]

What year was it, where you're from?

Oh. Yeah, maybe.

[ Makoto resists the urge to absently touch at his nose. It hasn't been broken for a while, but he's guessing it's the same month Levi is thinking of. Auroras weren't that new. ]

That kinda violence hasn't happened before like that either, has it?

a late summer catchall

august

tdm prompts [ota]

closed starters

i.a

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iii: a.

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ii

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i.b

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