Finally, Motonari arrived at one of the oversized… boxes. There was one like this where he and Motochika were living, only much smaller. In that one, there was food. In this one, however, rested the promised vials— so many vials, and the mere sight twisted the thoughts in his mind and the smirk on his face. True, with this many of the precious containers, it wouldn’t be quite so easy as he had imagined to work his devious schemes. But he figured, there were those who couldn’t get it for themselves. They might even die. And if it got that bad, there clearly wasn’t anyone who would get it for them. So there it was: his own little ace in the hole, at least for the time being.
He carefully picked out a vial, rolling it slowly between two fingers and a thumb. It was as cool to the touch as the massive container that held it, and the glass was smooth and hard. He chose a few more, being selecting each one critically, until one hand was completely full and the other held three, respectively. Having a small stash on hand would be beneficial. Just then, he heard footsteps— perhaps he should go about this in a better way. Hurriedly, he replaced all but one of the vials.
He’d take them one at a time, slowly and patiently.
For now, he kept the first one and spun on his heel, leaving the refrigerator behind. He passed the newcomer without word or even so much as a glance and made his way back to where he began. It was a much less relaxed pace he set now; after all, who knew how much time he’d have before the window of opportunity closed itself? He needed to take this chance now if he was to have any luck with this endeavor. One person’s suffering was another’s gain, after all.
He wasn’t sure how long it took, or when he lost track of time. There were a few citizens that had passed him, bumped into him– but not intentionally. It wasn’t his fault– it wasn’t his fault that this was happening to him, but deep down he couldn’t help but to blame himself. He called himself foolish, stubborn, a distasteful idiot… he pointed out all his flaws in spite; it wasn’t hard to notice his teeth gritting in anger at that point.
This constant struggle was nothing but tiring, painful, stressing him further. Why the hell was he here? What even gave those god damn scientists the right to do this to people? It was downright cruel and he wasn’t going to endure such punishment any longer. Once he was cured, he promised he would make those bastards pay for their sick games.
Motochika’s quest had ended shortly after that thought and there before him was the box the voice spoke of. Somehow he made it, somehow he made it without additional pain. A sigh of relief exhaled through nostrils and he slowly stumbled toward the box, kneeling to open it.
It was when he had opened it… that he took a moment of pause, perhaps two moments… as what he had seen was… nothing? The box was empty, contents dry. He was too late, the last to finish this supposed race and he was definitely feeling the overall disappointment ache in his muscles. It only took another moment for his temper to raise, boil, and not even a second after, he left a deep imprint of his fist on the box’s front. How? Motochika’s temper, especially when enraged, was never to be underestimated.
Unfortunately, that was all the stamina Motochika had left and whatever did remain, he used to climb his way back to his room. Of course… that took twice as long, but he eventually made it, and even if Mouri had been there, his amount of worry was gone. All he cared about was collapsing, resting, and that was exactly what he did as he reached his bed. Upon his back, that singular eye taking in the view of the ceiling… he lied there, doing his very best to ignore the aches, the heavy breathing, and the fever…
Perhaps he could try again tomorrow, perhaps he’ll wake up just fine… or wake up to the home he left behind.
Immediately upon stepping outside, it was as though the effects of this rampant infection grew stronger— maybe he hadn’t truly been affected just yet, and it had only been the smugness of realizing he wasn’t sick. In light of that realization, his swelling superiority deflated a little; then it was just as likely that he could have ended up on the less fortunate end of the spectrum, and worse, in the eyes of the public. But he was, after all, Mouri Motonari— such a thing could hardly be expected to happen to him.
He stood in the morning light, engraving the exact feeling into his mind. Never had he felt this way before, and perhaps he never would again. There was a mental checklist lining itself up, and the first thing on the list was to grab one of those vials mentioned. He could certainly use that to his advantage more than any essence of feel-good tingling. But where, exactly, was he to get one?
No sooner had he asked himself than he remembered— the center of the districts. The general (or former general? For now, he might as well be.) stretched slowly, slowly, slowly, reveling in the unusual suppleness his body circulated. It felt wonderful. After that, he calmly headed for the closest of the designated locations, taking his time and plotting what to accomplish next all the while.
“This is turning out to be an interesting morning.”
Hands ran down the clamminess of his face, erasing whatever signs of obvious and utter sickness from its display (although it was still quite evident). He needed to get up, he kept telling himself that. If he didn’t, there was no hope or no chance he’d get back what he lost, and what he had lost was rightfully his and his alone. It took him maybe a moment, or three, to muster whatever strength he had left and he used that small amount in an attempt to push himself to his feet. Thankfully and fortunately, his attempt proved to be a success he surely doubted at first. However… he was already worn out. Impossible. This was a joke, he couldn’t believe it– his fever wasn’t the only thing boiling at this point, his temper was included in the mix.
A palm was pressed to the wall in support, knees feeling as if they were able to buckle. This was ridiculous. He couldn’t help but to grow angrier, not only at the bastards conducting these sick and twisted experiments, but at himself for allowing such foolishness to affect him. He was better than this and no doubt stronger, but no matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he struggled to grasp the strength he once had… there was nothing there for him. The thought of it just amplified the sickness, the stress, the aching and he might have winced. Oh… how he started to miss home, the sea… his men, and his family. That was at least a thought that encouraged him to try a little harder, had him almost walking towards the door of his room before he stumbled into it.
After another desperate struggle, he made it out, clutching whatever he could get his grasp on to keep his ground. ‘You’ll make it,’ said another inner thought. 'You’re almost there.’
Irritation was Motonari’s first emotion on being dragged from his sleep by a blaring voice— and in any other setting, that would be a death calling to any who dared. However, in Hive City, he could not be bothered to try; the scientists were out of his reach, and any killing he might do was a waste of time. He’d observed several people being killed, and he’d seen them later. No one remained lifeless.
Social experiment, indeed.
So he roused himself from Chousokabe’s floor, for that was where he had chosen to live. It was better than the dirty box, and far superior to the murky underground. He wouldn’t be persuaded to share a bed though. That was too far. He examined himself, the words of the scientist ringing in his ears. He felt fine— no, far better than fine. He felt well worthy of the sun’s power, and that was a dangerous feeling. Lightly, he rolled to his feet; he spent only as little time as necessary to ready himself, and without any delay, he took his leave of the place to test out his newfound vitality.
Would he give this up? Absolutely not. Not for anything in the world.
It was deep in his chest… or was it his stomach, he wasn’t sure– his mind was clouded, fuzzy, as well as his thoughts. He was hot, sweating, boiling with an uncomfortable and mucky feeling. His joints, his back, and his shoulders… they ached and stressed, ground unnervingly. This wasn’t like him… this bug, or whatever the hell it was, this wasn’t like him at all. He couldn’t grasp a breath without fumbling, or heaving… it was annoying. What the hell was wrong with him? It couldn’t be seasickness, it wasn’t– despite the city lacking a sea, there was never a point in time where he had such a cruel disease.
The words he overheard, just barely… were they speaking of what he had? Or what was wrong? It nearly felt like something was taken away from him, that was for sure, and if those words were true, he needed to get the cure as fast as possible. But he was a stubborn man, perhaps a stubborn child when it came to showing any sort of weakness. The room he shared was accompanied by the only person he refused to display such a scene, so he fought, struggled… until the moment he left– Motochika didn’t say a word, pretended to sleep. It was until he heard the door click that he tried his very hardest to push himself up to sit.
‘It isn’t far,’ he told himself. 'You’ll make it before he gets back,’ another thought of assurance. Although he was already sick, the thought of Motonari witnessing him in such a condition made him sick. He was aware of the words that would leave his mouth, the expression he would don– he snarled lowly just thinking about it.
[She mumbles that last bit under her breathe as she takes another swig of beer, wiping off her mouth after nearly chugging the entire thing. When it came to drinking, the blonde was close to shameless.]
Suppose I could say the same damn thing.
[His sarcasm is noted, and so is his name. Not that she’d normally care, but if the guy proved interesting enough and didn’t turn out to be a judgemental prick, she’d consider a new drinking buddy.
On the topic of her name, she simply gives a shrug. She hasn’t gone by her real name for a long time, and she wasn’t about to pass it around now.]
Me? Well, let’s just say I’m a Bad Girl.
Beer was foreign, at least where he was from, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t experienced the taste before. Booze was booze, and free booze was definitely the best kind of booze.
The can he had placed an immediate claim on– well, you could say it took him a slight minute to figure it out. Once he cracked it though, there wasn’t the slightest sign of hesitation to chug down his first drink. Bitter, but refreshing, he was in a state of contentment.
“Ya’ ain’t bad t'me if yer’ willin’ to share this kind of luxury,” he added, still listening. He was a generous man himself and if shown the same generosity, consider yourself on his good side. “But really, lass… what’s yer’ name?”
Past days had been unenjoyable, strained, and without stress. The samurai didn’t understand the concept of working and attaining a job was a whole ‘nother matter in itself. Still, he had only the yen he carried with him from start. And with the ever decreasing supply of money to use, came the sudden realization that he was going to need to find a ‘job’ where he could supply himself income.
The day had been at least relaxing, the heat wave had passed and the rain that had occurred several days in a row caused left over clouds to be wandering about. Leaving the day nice and cool. Letting him to comfortably wear the street clothes that had been ever so graciously provided to him by the wonderful scientists.
It had taken some time to get used to the light layer of clothing, a pair of ‘jeans’ and a collared shirt paired with a wife beater had been all he had to wear. (hes going comando i mean what) The nice change of pace in clothing had been something he’d enjoy the past few days. As well as had to get used to, it was strange that he felt so akin to wearing such items. He could wear his yukata but he still felt that wasn’t needed when walking these streets. Besides, these street clothes made it easier to walk around in.
A moment of pause in traffic made him at first get certainty annoyed. As people just stared at the lounging figure laying smack dab in the middle of the sidewalk. Because of their immense size and width. The 6 foot wide path had been completely blocked, a few angry people mumbled but all tried to pass by. Masamune pushed them aside, walking forward to see this figure come into sight.
It was that damn bastard.
“……….Chousokabe, you fuckin’ kiddin me!” He pauses to let this fact sink in. The demon pirate had finally arrived, “ Get your fat ass off the sidewalk." That was his greeting, to an old friend. Acquaintance really, though their encounter had never been long for either. As the two lived from separate parts of the country, ”Oi!!!”
In all honesty the one-eyed dragon couldn’t help but grin, another familiar face who if anything would be more welcoming then most. At least it was nobunaga or mitsunari, then again why the hell would they be laying their fat ass across the stone cold pavement.
There was a slim possibility that a certain proclaimed demon pirate was having a hard time coping with his new surroundings and the fact that no matter which way he looked, there were unfamiliar faces. He felt uncomfortable, disoriented, agitated– more agitated at himself more than anything, which had made this experience a little more difficult. When you’re at war with yourself, there is no way in hell you’ll ever meet the accomplishments you have set.
He was at least getting accustomed to the area circling where he had been dwelling for the time being– wait a second, where the hell did that building come from? It wasn’t there the last time he checked. Wasn’t that sign somewhere else? He could have sworn he saw it across the street– alright, what the hell was goin’ on? Nothing was where it had been before– he could barely recognize a single thing. Did he take a wrong turn? If so… when and where did he take it?
That singular pool of cerulean was scanning about, hoping he could recall the last turn he made. It didn’t help that there were multiple bumpkins looking at him funny (taking into consideration that he was still adorned with his usual clothing), if anything, it rose his agitation to another level. He stopped though, in the middle of the sidewalk, an index and thumb on his chin– he was thinking, in deep thought. Of course… just standing there thinking about it wouldn’t do him any good, but it was at least keeping him from snapping out.
This lasted for awhile… too long in fact and he was slowly growing tired of standing there. He had one idea and something inside had him convinced it was a good one, and that was to sit, or well… to lie this one out. It must have been pretty strange to see a giant of a man just sprawl himself out across an area where folks moved frequently. If he weren’t too lost in thought, he might have considered moving… but instead, he just lied there, hoping what he had been trying to remember would come to him.
Unfortunately and unexpectedly, he was interrupted– by who? Well, it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out. “… aan?” As soon as he jerked his head to see the culprit, it took him no longer than a second to identify who it was. “Masamune…?!” Well, wasn’t this a surprise? Although he was told of the kid’s presence here beforehand, he never got the chance to check for himself. Seeing the dragon though, it at least motivated him to sit up, a brow raising. “Sidewalk? ‘The hell are you talkin’ abou–” Oh. Right. He was just lying there wasn’t he? Evidence of a dumbfounded expression had been noticeable, but after he realized… well, he picked his ass right up.
“I was wonderin’ when I’d see you!” He might have been ecstatic, as it was obvious in his tone. “I was gettin’ kind o’ worried. I didn’t wanna be stuck in a place full of bumpkins I’ve never seen before.”
It took everything he had not to snap right back; cold logic was overcoming the shock that had settled in on entering this strange world, and his thoughts mirrored Motochika’s: they couldn’t afford to be picking at each other right now. And who knows? Maybe that’s what those scientists wanted— in which case, he just couldn’t give them that satisfaction. So he swallowed as much of his own venom as he could, but nothing could dull the lethal daggers in his icy eyes.
He would repay the pirate for every word of that remark, the moment the opportunity presented itself.
The fury jolting through his veins was quelled somewhat by the tone that slipped into the other man’s voice. It was fleeting, but unmistakable, and left Motonari wondering more than a few things.. but those thoughts he forced aside for now in light of the cocksure suggestion that followed. His first reaction was a loud NO that echoed throughout his body like the crack of a whip, but he steeled himself before he could make this visible. It was an opportunity to easier find out more about the situation, and he just might be able to put this pirate in his place for a while. That was certainly a gratifying thought.
“…Very well,” he replied slowly, dragging out the words with a thoughtful lilt. “It couldn’t hurt to allow you to assist me for the time being.”
To either be stuck wandering the streets of a city he was no where near use to, or to wander them with at least someone he was familiar with… the choice had been a difficult one to make; a challenge. He tried to bite his tongue, tried to keep the suggestion from ever leaving his mouth… but out of the amount of bumpkins he had only caught a glimpse of, the idea at least sounded reasonable… for the most part. What could go wrong? Surely they wouldn’t argue, surely fists wouldn’t fly… surely they would actually work together on this. Oh… this was going to be something else.
He found it rather amusing actually– found it amusing that Motonari was under the impression he’d be assisting him, when it was the other way around. Who was it that made the suggestion in the first place? Tch, if he wasn’t attempting to be civil, a few mundane insults would have been given.
“That’s good t'hear at least…” A second struggle to contain his bark– a bark that was certainly equal to his bite. “I was givin’ directions, if that helps any? Directions t'a place I’d be stayin’, I think,” he said, with a chime of optimism in that raspy voice of his.
“Maybe it’d be best t'check it out? I was just headin’ there myself.” If we were to excuse the fact that he was lost currently, the chances of this reunion taking place might have been halved– in fact, they would have never considered teaming up. Instead – without excusing it; he wouldn’t admit it, but – Motochika was a tad bit hopeful that Motonari would have better luck finding his way through this god awful hick city.
So, I’ll admit I’ve been slackin’ with replies, but I assure ya’ I’ll get to ‘em tomorrow after my lousy graveyard shift. Also, if you’d like t'set up a thread with me, don’t hesitate to tell me! I’d really like t'start role-playin’ with ya’ bumpkins.
“Bumpkin?” She tilted her head. “That’s what Maribelle used to call Donnel!“
"Oh, right! His name is Masamune, he has something covering one of his eyes too~”
He might have been curious as to who she had been referring to, but before he could get the luxury of asking–
“Masamune…?!” And here he was under the impression he was stuck in this hick city with a distasteful amount of landlubbers he had never met. “Yer’ tellin’ me the Dokuganryu is here as well?!”
