overjoyed_logs | ❁ the dead receive more flowers than the living

[Glowing text in the dim light of his ship, alight with untraceable instructions, bid Takasugi come to the streets of Leith. It did not bid him to come alone. Arriving on the moon, orders were disseminated among his crew to enjoy the tenuous atmosphere with caution - leave granted to many. His officers made aware of the designated coordinates, convening in the Golden Meadows bar with the appropriate revelry was simple. Arguments flung between a loud voice and a passive stare passed over him, the leader himself sipping wine with a strain of distaste in his nostrils.

It tasted like the blood of Leithan complacency.

With no stranger coming to rendezvous, and the night settling into it's depths, Takasugi rose, departing his companions to survey the street. The display on his device blinks, the map zoomed in to the schematics of the building. Ah.

The door to the stairwell is unlocked, and the storeroom unlit. Cautious steps, slow even as the rich scent of the stored delicacies sinks into his clothing, lead Takasugi to the attic stairs. Ascending with his hands at his sides, the man is nothing but a display of casual exploration - but his body is light with budding adrenaline. Familiar, measured, the sensation unique to battlefield scouting; he isn't under the impression this is anything but an extension of war.

Fingers ghost over the surface of the child's desk, it's design familiar in a way that leaves his bones heavy. Pressing the pad of his forefinger into it's upper right corner, he feels the smooth, light wood and remembers scrawling gashes into another of it's kind. A breath of dust, sigh taken but not noticed, clenches his throat enough to bring the man back to the present. He pulls the drawer open, glowing light drawing his attention, and breaks the creaking silence of the room with his voice.

Uttering not a moniker, but his given name.]

Edited 2017-02-16 20:48 (UTC)

[ Laughter, soft and airy, echoes out from the device held in hand, a girlish, young-sounding giggle.

When it--she--speaks, the cadence is almost lyrical, an accent tinged with the suggestion of far off lands. ]

Takasugi.

[ She says the name warmly like she's remembering something fond, like its the name of a dear, dear friend. ]

I was worried we might have to start without you. I trust the accommodations are to your liking?

[Takasugi leans against the desk, listening to the foreign voice echo his name, the sway of his hips disrupting the dust to send it floating through the dampened moonlight of the room. His thumb caresses the base of the device idly, eye shutting to allow the swelling nostalgia a moment to surround him.

It's almost believable.

Except his old friends would spit his name.

He greets the question with warmth of his own - the suffocating, almost salacious sort.] It will suit me well. [Too well.]

Though I'm more interested in endings than beginnings.

[ A small, restrained hum on the other end of the line. The silence draws on for a moment before she responds, her words mildly curved as in the presence of a smile. ]

I know.

[ Whether it's the matter of the decor or endings, she doesn't clarify. ]

You're going to bring the Quad to its knees, Takasugi, and I'm going to help you.

Well..

[ Another hum, then musical laughter that's not quite right. An edge of madness beneath the soft, winding lilt. ]

You and your team. Are they to your liking as well?

[Bring the Quad to it's knees, and be the man swinging the blade that severs it's head from it's neck. A fantasy he's lavished in for nearly a decade now, consuming iteration after iteration, spun with vivid verse in mind or in ink.

It's a deeply personal lust - one he divulges emphatically but not frequently. To hear it in the creaks of another's madness does not thrill him.

But it does entice.] I already have a crew.

Though, should these two wish to bear their fangs, I will direct their bite.

Are they really a crew? Or are they simply your favorite pawns?

[ She sounds as if she's considering it, debating the merits and differences between the two.

Then, abruptly: ]

Oh, I don't really care.

These are going to be your new pawns, whether they like it or not. We have a mission for you, if you're willing to play our game.

And Takasugi? I promise it's going to be a very fun, very long game if you do.

[The two are indistinguishable to Takasgui. Units romanticized as friend, as family, exist - he knows - but the bodies on his ship are simply resources of blood and bone and will.

He doesn't care either.

The man laughs, a high tone contrasting his deep voice. In the very least, the new additions could provide corpses as stepping stones.]

What prize are you dangling in front of me? [Like a child at a festival - he feels a ghost of the warm excitement felt as eager feet wander the fascination of stall after stall.]

Edited 2017-02-17 03:02 (UTC)

[ How does one appeal to a man like Takasugi? His sense of decency? Certainly not. Waxing poetic about the injustices of the world? No--he's liable to have written it better in some oft-published but rarely read sonnet.

The mirth dies in her voice, though the presence of a smile, faint and not entirely kind, might still be heard in its undercurrent. ]

The power and resources to do what you've always done.

Burn everything down.

[The sweetest songs always carried melodies with vague words. Bloated meanings gleaned from the listener's experience, rather than any substance, lulled so many into calm nights and restful sleep.

He's enough sunsets - sunrises - to not be swept into such hollows.]

Tell me, [Implorative and calm, he lets his wrist go limp, grip on the device loose.] What form will this reward take? A goldfish? Or some fireworks? [His voice settles amused, toying with the possibilities.]

[ A giggle, high-pitched and sweet, meets that question. Again, her laughter sounds slightly off, as if it's between clenched teeth, but it's not anger eddying beneath.

It's joy, vindictive and cruel, hidden by the lilt of her accent and musical quality of her speech. ]

Fireworks. Dazzling, wonderful, loud fireworks. We'll wash the sky in a red light that they'll never forget.

What you did at Sugar Point will be child's play compared to this.

[Hearing teeth in her laughter - conscious or subconscious - makes the man bare his own, a smile cutting wider and wider in a gash across his face.

Waves of jovial imagery crash against his own cruelty, fueled by everburning anger.

It flares under the added fuel of implicit blackmail.] Ah.

Will it envelop us as well? [A self-destructive plan isn't a deal breaker... but he'll be keeping his death in his own hands.]

[ Her laughter dies off, sharp and sudden, and her tone shifts, the accented voice turning to a soft, contemplative purr. ]

Hm...you, maybe. Not me.

[ It would be a lie to call this a risk free venture, and while Hyperion is far from above lies--they are to a secret organization a necessity like water--there is a time and place to use them.

Besides that, she doesn't think the prospect of potentially adding his own corpse to the pile will be a deal breaker. They'll give him plenty of leave to fill the grave before then.

On their terms, of course. ]

But you're going to kill a lot of people before then, Sweetness. And like I said, we're going to help, if you'll let us.

[ The artificiality of the choice is obvious, but it's courteous to pretend. ]

[It's nothing but a seductive threat - one he might indulge were they in the dim hallways of Eulogy. Standing among settling dust, however, Takasugi lowers the device to the desk with audible contact.

Particles swirl once more, filling a mouth widening voraciously.

He'll take her self-assured safety as a challenge. And continue the platitude of mutual cursory deception.] We'll help each other - [So long as it's convenient. So long as the benefit of using the other outweighs the burden of being used.]

What sky should I turn to for our first show? [He raises a hand to part the curtains, revealing a cloudless sky of stars. Almost as if scorched, he curls his fingers away from the window - letting the drapes fall in place.]

Edited 2017-02-20 08:37 (UTC)

Oh, wonderful. I'm so glad we don't have to kill you!

[ Just a beat for that girlish giggle to follow, high pitched and full of fangs. ]

Just kidding.

[ Not that she sounds particularly sincere about it, but she's hardly been carrying herself with the air of sincerity since this conversation again. ]

Ah-ah. No spoilers. You have to get your characters together before you tell the story. Find these people. Convince them to work with you. Use whatever means you deem necessary.

Then we can get started with your first mission.

[There has been nothing sincere in the woman's voice since the inception of the call - only unstable delight so full it permeates Takasugi's gut with an echo of the feeling.]

Aa. [Absent agreement as he turns his attention to the dossiers, glancing into the depths of information.]

You have quite the network, to gather all of this- [He assumes there's one on him as well; he voices his exasperation with of the trifling breach only by dimming his tone.]

I'd say I'd contact you if I need anything - but you'll know that too, won't you? [Not that he'll need any help coercing two soft-hearted girls into joining a cause. Those who feel the pain of others always look for ways to mitigate it, to dull their throbbing by spreading smiles thinly.

It's better to just chop off an infected limb - a thought kept to himself only shown in a flash of teeth as he closes the files.]

I will.

[ Said like an intimate promise, this vow of omnipresence, an edge of subtle threat in the smile-colored inflection. ]

We look forward to seeing your progress, Tani.

[ Laughter, ever airy and ethereal cut short with a sharp note: ]

Don't disappoint.

[ And then a soft click, barely audible, as the line goes dead. ]

[Wrapping his fingers around the door of the storefront, Takasugi vaguely recalls a distant night. Unremarkable, the scent of damp filth so common in Old Town a backdrop to the trite activities of the evening. He'd almost forgotten the girl as well, until her face flickered before him on a holographic dossier.

Suspicions he hadn't even bothered to entertain wafted through his thoughts as his ship traveled from Leith to Westerley. There had been no risk in their meeting, their conversation, but there had been purpose.

Inconsequential though it may be, now. Any secrecy maintained between them - whatever she couldn't glean for herself that night - would soon be shattered. Takasugi approaches the counter to turn and lean against it, hip resting on wood.] I hear you'll take any job, for the right pay. [He starts the conversation regardless of whether she's attending the front of store or not.]

Edited 2017-02-20 07:15 (UTC)

[Kate is exhausted and banged up and the last thing on her mind right now is work, which is why when Takasugi shows up at her office, she's a little shocked. She's not actually taking jobs right now, not with everything going on with the accords and the resistance, and the last person she expects to see is Takasugi with a vaguely insulting greeting like that.

She scrubs a hand over her face, planting her other on her hip.]

One, that's super broad, and two, definitely not true. What can I do for you?

[The greeting from the disheveled owner makes the corners of Takasugi's mouth twitch upwards, a glimmer of amusement soon fading as she routes the conversation to business.

A detective may find their business booming in such troubled times, but to receive such injuries... Either she's a terrible private eye, or there's more to her actions.

He already knows the answer.

With no need to rush their meeting, Takasugi brushes aside her question.] I don't know what name you came to know me by the night we met - but regardless, we were never properly acquainted. [He offers an extended hand, fingers steady.] Takasugi Shinsuke. [A name known in the Resistance, though the part he plays remains nebulous to most.]

Edited 2017-02-21 04:17 (UTC)

[It clicks, and Kate's eyebrows go up for an instant, and then her expression closes off.]

Oh.

[God, she's so stupid. She was chasing a ghost all along, but she takes his hand and shakes.]

Kate Bishop. But I guess you... probably already know that.

[Takasugi's handshake is firm but brief, fingers curling slowly as his arm falls to his side. To her recognition he flashes his teeth in a wry smile as fleeting as a lightning strike.]

You've been busy... [Yes, he knows that - and he knows how she dips into the lives of others, trying to carry them away from their burdens.]

But there's an opportunity you may be interested in.

[He isn't wrong. She has been busy, and there's enough bruises and cuts on her face to prove it. Her head tilts slightly.]

What sort of opportunity?

The opportunity to give relief.

[He raises his jaw and relaxes his countenance, shoulders slouching and smile easing. For the effort to look 'welcoming' he may simply look tired.]

You see it more often now, the broken families and the starving wanderers. They step on broken glass scattered by those soon to join their ranks.

Those you can help. [A pause, allowing her to ask questions that will lead to the answers which ensnare her most.]

[She crosses her arms, studying him carefully.]

Help how? And stop being so... riddle-y.

[He's just pretentious there's no escape-

Takasugi replies with laughter more a scoff than a chuckle.] There are many who would recognize you as someone in the community to rely upon. Someone who has helped them or someone they know.

They trust you - they'd be lucky to have you representing them. [A beat, as if he's mulling over the weight of what he's saying - or, stripped of verbosity - finally considering getting to the damn point.]

I've been in contact with another cell, and they think you'd be a valuable presence at the Peace Summit, should you accept the invitation.

[Another cell—Steinbeck said he'd been put in charge of a cell, and she can't help but wonder if that's what Takasugi's talking about.]

Who were you in contact with? Can you stop being so cryptic and just spill already?

[Her determination coaxes a sigh from him, head tilting to mirror hers.]

If I had asked them the same, they may have laughed. [Subtlety has its place - but he's not here to lecture on subversive behavior.]

They call themselves Hyperion, and they're as opaque as you seem to regard me. What we've been given is a chance to guide things as we wish.

You know what's better for this community than a formless voice on the other side of the Quad, wouldn't you say?

[Kate knows. The Company will never treat anyone on Westerley fairly, but she's still not sure what he's asking.]

I'm sure a bunch of my dad's old buddies will be there. What's Hyperion asking us to do?

[As she speaks of her family Takasugi listens closely for contempt. The thought of his own blood - long abandoned - mingling with a charitable crowd is laughable. He won't see them there, and even if he did, there's nothing left to feel.]

Aa, but they won't be helping anyone but themselves. [He shifts to lean more heavily against the counter.] We, however, have been asked to oversee the Summit as the eyes of the Resistance.

And meddle where we like. [She can work towards as much good as she likes - he'll tear down more.]

❁ the dead receive more flowers than the living

adjusting to the dark ❁ hyperion

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

revenge is just like returning a favor ❁ kate

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject