lifeaftr | Ruins Mingle Log!

Entry tags:

Ruins Mingle Log!

Who: Newt Geiszler

ohnehalfte and EVERYONE
What: So a bunch of people headed up towards the ruins, so they've got to all run into each other and start to congregate, right???
When: Evening of the mingle log and onwardish.
Where: The Ruins
Warnings: Um...same as the mingle log?

The beach curves up a gentle slope until it meets forest, some manner of building visible through the trees. Further exploration of this area will reveal a dilapidated building of sorts; the architecture is indiscernible to even the most skilled eye. Despite looking as if it has seen better days, there are areas that offer some form of shelter...and who knows what else. Just because it appears uninhabited doesn’t mean you won’t wind up pleasantly, or unpleasantly, surprised.

[ooc: Hey y'all! I thought this might be a good place to start getting larger groups of characters together to do some exploring, settling down, banding together and figuring out rations, etc. Feel free to throw up any threads of your own for specific things like exploration groups, a gathering in the entrance hall, whatever strikes your fancy or that you think your character would organize. Have a party!

Edit: Additionally, there is now an OOC Post for those that want to handwave their character signing up for ruin exploration]

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[The loud thud and rattle of cascading coconuts is like a clap of thunder in the ruins, amplified by the acoustics of stone. It's definitely enough to draw Ichimatsu's eye; more of a jerk, really, a slight startle as he sharply turns towards the noise. Shit, that surprised him. He'd almost leapt for the nearest pillar.]

[It's just a weird-looking guy in a cloak, though. Ichimatsu stands and stares for a few seconds, hands shoved deep into his pockets, watching the stranger sort through their haul. Looks like they're busy... he shouldn't bother them. But then a flash of movement across the floor catches his eye, and he looks to see an errant coconut rolling his way. Tch... why did he have to go and see that?]

[With a sigh, Ichimatsu rubs the back of his neck and bends over to scoop up the coconut with one arm. He trudges forward, rolling the seed with his fingers.]

Oi! You missed one.

[And he lobs it over without waiting. Think fast?]

[You'll have to forgive them; the nuances of variation between human faces is still a talent they're learning to acquire. If the Drifter looks as though they're brightening at the sight of Ichimatsu, it's because they are - they remember him. He called them a badass, and said he had a lot of jokes.]

[The Drifter's reflexes, thankfully, remain undampened. They catch the projectile as it arcs at them, though they stumble back a few steps.]

[He looks considerably more dour than he did last they saw him, but that's no reason to be rude. Their sprite projects a bright little message, obligingly:]

c:

[Dour, a shade or two paler, and seemingly sapped of the trademark energy that endears Osomatsu to many of the people he meets. While Ichimatsu doesn't turn on his heel to leave right away, he does glance off, as though looking for an opportunity to return to whatever he'd been doing before (spoilers: it was nothing). It's only once he notices the Drifter stumble a little that his attention seems fully drawn. The coconut wasn't that heavy, was it...?]

[The sprite comes as another surprise. Ichimatsu stiffens, finds himself resisting some of his more feline instincts as it bobs and weaves at the Drifter's shoulder like a little bird. When it flickers the little happy face at him, he's momentarily at a loss. Wait, he should respond... one hand raises in an awkward little wave.]

Uh... h-hi.

[...he's not quite the same, is he? Did something happen? He'd mentioned leaving to find his brothers - perhaps he'd not succeeded. The Drifter's friendly demeanor wilts slightly before being replaced with something more to the point, as is their wont.]

[A fresh line of text crops up across the screen in place of the emoticon.]

did you find them

[He can tell he's made them... uh, sad? Disappointed? He's not sure. He doesn't think they're smiling anymore, at least. He feels sort of bad about it, even though he has no idea what expectations they had from him in the first place.]

[More text. Can they not talk or something? Ichimatsu's eyes scan briefly over the words.]

... who?

your brothers.

[He was looking for them, wasn't he? They've seen multitudes of other creatures similar to him in appearance and skin tone, but they've not yet learned to discern all of them from one another without some form of distinguishing marks. The Kid's hair is brighter, Newt has his tattoos and glasses and scars, and the children tend to be smaller, but they've not quite worked out the particulars of everyone else yet.]

My... ah.

[Recognition blinks into Ichimatsu's face. Really, this happens so often, he should have picked up on it earlier. Rolling a shoulder, he tilts his head to the side and points to himself.]

No, I am one. We're identical. He didn't tell you that, huh? [It's spoken less like a question and more like an 'of course'. Far be it from any of his older brothers to make it clear that they're all running around with the same face... that would make it too easy on everyone.]

[...]

[most of those of the human persuasion look functionally identical tbh]

[A single blink of their dark eyes, and the Drifter hastily wipes the last line of text to make way for a fresh block of it.]

everyone looks identical :\

[... buddy, you have a weird definition of 'identical'. Ichimatsu is pretty sure he would die if someone mistook him for, say... that yakuza asshole. Can't get more different than that. At least physically.]

[This stranger is clearly a bit of a weirdo, though, so Ichimatsu doesn't hold it against them. He makes a contemplative sound low in his throat.]

Uh, well..... ah. [he pulls at his sweater.] See? Mine's purple. Dunno who you ran into, but Osomatsu-niisan wears red. Shittymatsu is... well, don't worry about him.

[Purple. Colors are easy. They survey him with fixed attention before noting that, mentally. Osomatsu - they remember him now, yes. He was the red one. Shittymatsu...they've not met him? Presumably he is the one that is neither red nor purple.]

there are three?

... six. I haven't seen the others, though, so don't worry about them either.

[Better not to think about those guys right now. He's not gonna give himself the chance to miss 'em -- not that he thinks he would -- and there's no need to go confusing this stranger with six different colors without need.]

I'm Ichimatsu. Sorry if my brother was a pain in the ass.

said i was badass
told good jokes
c:

[Your brother was gr8 Ichimatsu, don't even worry about it. They built a tent together and everything. That's prime bonding material right there.]

... aahh, really?

[That surprises him.]

[Right away that narrows it down. Karamatsu isn't much one for telling jokes, or using the word "badass" to describe others... which means that it was Osomatsu who befriended this stranger. And he thinks "befriended" might actually be the right term to use, seeing that little emoji again, thinking back to how thrilled they'd been when they thought Ichimatsu was his brother. So Osomatsu finally made a friend outside of his family, did he?]

[Ichimatsu has to admit it. He's jealous. But at the same time...]

[Good for you, Niisan.]

[His sullen look breaks under a smile, which he tries to smother under the burden of formulating a response. Jeez, being put in this position like he's the older brother here.]

If that's the case, thanks. I'm sure Osomatsu-niisan tried his best.

[He may be lazy and mostly helpless, but he's always eager to please.]

[That earns a smile, albeit a small one. They will consider that a success, at any rate. The Drifter holds up their fingers in the U-shape they've begun to employ for the purpose of outlining their quiet if limited joy - a "smile," held an inch or so away from the front of the red cloth mantling their face.]

[The Drifter offers the coconut out next. They've plenty, after all, and if he is anything like his brother, he may very well need all the help he can get.]

there are more

Hm?

[Ichimatsu glances at the coconut for several seconds before it registers. Lifting a hand, he waves it in front of his face, though not especially frantic -- it's pretty rude of him to potentially turn down a gift, but as far as he's concerned this stranger's already done him a favor by not feeding his brother to a shark.]

You sure you're okay with that? I don't have anything to trade.

[A shrug. His concern with debt is notable, but such laws would not apply to someone who is not a drifter by trade - and they would wager that he is not, much like his brother.]

[He is no drifter, and thus he will need that sort of aid. His brother could not so much as pitch a tent, after all.]

getting more

Thanks, then.

[Ichimatsu has never been so good of a person that he'd turn down charity. He accepts the coconut with a nod, swinging his own backpack down long enough to pop it into the large pocket. As the strap slides back up his shoulder, he eyes the Drifter with what he hopes isn't too stern of a gaze.]

[It's a pain in the ass, but he's always been a bit more observant than he lets on. He's not exactly one to judge the pallor of a blue-skinned person, but... he's thinking back to that stumble from a simple coconut, to the way they don't speak at all. Maybe they're just weak? Or have a sore throat? They are wearing a mask, even if it's different from Ichimatsu's hygiene mask. Either way, he wonders if they're really in good enough health to be doing a bunch of backbreaking manual labor.]

... mind if I ask you a question? Can you not talk or something?

[Success. They will consider that a minor victory, but a victory nonetheless. Ichimatsu's question takes them aback somewhat, but only for a moment. No one has asked them that particular question yet.]

[Their head lowers in a solemn nod.]

sickness
no cure
damage to throat.

[That had been the first thing to go, really. The first sign that this would not simply go away - when their coughing had gone from hoarse and hacking to nearly silent, and they could no longer utter so much as a whisper.]

...

[He didn't think he'd actually been right, but here they are.]

[Ichimatsu wonders what the appropriate response to that information would be. A person so sick they can't even speak shouldn't be hauling coconuts around, let alone babysitting a grown man and feeding his family. Maybe the right thing to do would be to scold them... tell them to take it easy. Take their coconut back, take a load off, take a nap under the nearest palm tree.]

[Forcing goodwill like that is pointless, though. What good is there in telling someone a bunch of stuff they must already know? If they've already decided that they're gonna work, then they're gonna work. It's not Ichimatsu's place to tell them they can't. Nobody appreciates a bunch of overbearing advice from someone who shouldn't even be sticking their nose into things that don't involve them.]

[He regrets asking. He regrets more that he's afraid to press for details, in case it makes his brother hard to look in the face for a while.]

Well, it doesn't bother me if you don't talk or if you try working past your limit. Do what you want. Just try not to die.

[lol]

[There is something almost amusing in that, were they graced with a morbid sense of humor. Fortunately, their current state makes any demonstrations of humor a manual effort rather than something that could emerge in an involuntary spurt of sound.]

[All the same, dying is decidedly unpleasant. His advice is sound; they will endeavor not to do so.]

you too

[Him too, huh...?]

[That's fine. It's already just another thing he's given up on.]
[But... is he really okay with leaving things like this? Ichimatsu forces a sharp scoff of air through his teeth, glancing away from the stranger -- the sick one, comes the unwanted reminder. He can't deal with heavy atmospheres like this. Why does he always have to go and ruin every conversation he has by saying stupid stuff like, 'Can you not talk or something'?]

[Like it was even his business, just because they made his brother happy.]

[....]

[What a crappy situation.]

[Abruptly, Ichimatsu pulls his knapsack back down and opens up the front flap, shoving his hand deep inside. When it draws back out, there's a surgical mask clutched in his fingers. It's white, with an inner lining of gel-like material to resist some fluid. Stained and a bit sandy-looking, but smelling vaguely of rubbing alcohol.]

I changed my mind about the trade. Here. [He shoves it out towards them while looking away, dangling it by the ear loops.] S-sorry, I used it, but... it's clean. And I'm not sick.

...use it so you don't catch anything else. O-or don't. I don't care.

[That should have been the end of the exchange, as far as they were concerned - but it isn't. Because he presses something into their gloved and slightly clawlike fingers, and they fumble slightly as they run it between their fingers.]

[So they don't catch anything else.]

[The gesture will not save them from the death they know is running up to greet them, that will swallow them whole in burn of toxic magenta, in the ink-creep of black tendrils swarming down their throat and choking their breath.]

[But the gesture is...]

[Kind.]

[Their dark eyes fold into thin black crescents, the same way a cat might squint to indicate its contentment.]

thank you

[It's barely left his hands and Ichimatsu already misses the mask. It's stupid, but it's more than a flimsy protection from pathogens, in his culture -- it's a shield of anonymity against a world that always finds fit to judge within moments of laying eyes on you. In some small, childish way, it's safe. There's nothing he can do about it now, though.]

[Except hope that maybe it'll do this stranger more good than it did him. And if it doesn't, well... it's not like there's much of Ichimatsu to hide, anyway.]

[He slings the pack over his shoulder again. His eyes flicker up only long enough to read the written thanks, and then he glances off once more.]

Sure.

[...]

[He's already turning away, waving a hand over his shoulder.]

Well, I'm leaving. I'll see you around.
[Don't die.]

[Another soft ping of their HUD.]

see you.

[They'll have to wait until he's out of eyesight before they pull thing over their face, the lower half that's usually covered with the drape of maroon cloth. It's stained with pink on the inside, and they're certain that the gift itself will be soon, as well.]

[But it is better than making no use of it at all.]

[They deftly loop the thing around the lower half of their face, tying it behind their neck, and yank the mantle back over.]

[He won't be able to see it, but it's there.]

[Maybe it will help.]

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Ruins Mingle Log!

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