Don’t worry about it. I don’t know how anyone could survive in this fucking dump without a bit of scotch or beer.
Who the hell are you, anyway?
“M'just barely… but thanks t'you lass, I think I’ll manage.” There might have been a slight sign of an appreciative smile, but he doesn’t don it for long.
“M'nobody, if that answers yer’ question,” he replied with an obvious dash of sarcasm, hoping the woman would catch on. “But in all seriousness– th'name’s Chousokabe Motochika. What about yourself?”
echigo-no-ryu said: "… It seems I should have sent Kasuga and not Danzo on those scouting missions in the west.“ … “I mean… I apologize. That isn’t what I heard.”
Getting Motochika fired up made Motonari feel a little better. It was normal, something he could rely on to be unchanging. In this raging sea of insanity he’d fallen into, he figured he just might cling to this one rock of stability. Not without resistance, though. The last person he wanted to get stuck trailing behind was this man, especially if his only goal was to antagonize him and make his life worse than it must already be. He was better than that— he was better than all of this.
And it didn’t take away the edge from his high-strung state of mind. He glared at the captain with stormy eyes to sink him further and colder, to keep him beyond arms’ length, but within striking range. He decided then: he’d stay and converse a little. He might even forget the nightmare he’d fallen into for a little while, and that would be a welcome relief, no matter where it originated.
“I assume in the same way you did,” he remarked coolly, fading back into his more characteristic, emotionless shell. That was all he wanted to say on the subject; it was much better than saying outright that he didn’t know, because he didn’t, apart from what he had been told. “Surely not even you would be stupid enough to believe I would come here of my own volition.” After a pause, he added, “So, it is safe to assume also that you haven’t the slightest idea where we are either.”
“‘Course not– how could I forget that the Great Mouri Motonari does anythin’ in his damn power t'keep himself from actually goin’ out and doin’ shit that may or may not be risky, only if it were t'benefit his own snooty ass?” If it had been one thing the pirate brute knew how to do, it was to run his mouth, without acknowledging what was actually leaving it. And to top it all off, Motonari was already yanking his chain, that particular chain that symbolized his patience for bumpkins with the intent on insulting him for their own amusement. If he could, he’d make a list of names, but since he was an honest man, the list would only contain one.
He tried his best though, to simmer down. This wasn’t the time or place for their usual and pointless shenanigans. Motochika was not only concerned for himself, but for a man that could care less for his existence– and he hated that he did. What drove him to care? “I don’t have the slightest clue, m'afraid.” An identical pause. “It’s kinda scary, seein’ as I can’t even smell the sea from here.” There may have been a slight hint of a distressed tone in that reply, but he had an obnoxious and shark-like smile to retaliate.
“But considerin’ we found each other, I s'pose it’d be a good idea t'team up and find some clues?” Congratulations, Motochika… that is by far, the worst idea you could suggest.
Lord Motochika, I would highly suggest you consider showing benevolence to your enemies' civilians as you do your own. Don't think I haven't heard of your raiding parties...
“Oh…”
“Well…”
“Y’see… when I go about raidin’, I tend t’treat the innocent as I would my own men. So, I ain’t sure what yer’ hearin’…!”
