鏑木・T・虎徹 ᴋᴏᴛᴇᴛsᴜ ᴛ. ᴋᴀʙᴜʀᴀɢɪ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
earnedmystripes) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
savetheearth2013-04-14 10:53 pm
earnedmystripes) wrote in savetheearth2013-04-14 10:53 pm
[Video/iPhone camera]
Haaaa?
[The video on the network shows a middle-aged man, perhaps in his late thirties, staring in evident confusion. From what can be seen through the camera, his apartment is something of a mess, clothes haphazardly lying on the couch and floor and beer cans and bottles strewn around everywhere. At his side is a clipping from the newspaper, with coupons for pizza--which may explain what Kotetsu was trying to do when he punched in his number by mistake.]
Oi, you. [He flicks at the screen, as if personally offended by it.] Eye-phone thingy. You were supposed to call the pizza place, not randomly start recording a video.
[He sighs, grumbling to himself and unaware what he thinks is an internal “video” recording is actually broadcasting to at least a dozen others.]
Don’t see anything “smart” about this phone. What’s the point of a phone that takes pictures and goes on the internet if it can’t make calls???
I had to back up over my old one in that parking lot, didn’t I...
[Aaaand he dumps the phone unceremoniously on the couch, leaving the recording running as he goes to hunt down the instruction manual and hope he didn’t toss it out.]
[The video on the network shows a middle-aged man, perhaps in his late thirties, staring in evident confusion. From what can be seen through the camera, his apartment is something of a mess, clothes haphazardly lying on the couch and floor and beer cans and bottles strewn around everywhere. At his side is a clipping from the newspaper, with coupons for pizza--which may explain what Kotetsu was trying to do when he punched in his number by mistake.]
Oi, you. [He flicks at the screen, as if personally offended by it.] Eye-phone thingy. You were supposed to call the pizza place, not randomly start recording a video.
[He sighs, grumbling to himself and unaware what he thinks is an internal “video” recording is actually broadcasting to at least a dozen others.]
Don’t see anything “smart” about this phone. What’s the point of a phone that takes pictures and goes on the internet if it can’t make calls???
I had to back up over my old one in that parking lot, didn’t I...
[Aaaand he dumps the phone unceremoniously on the couch, leaving the recording running as he goes to hunt down the instruction manual and hope he didn’t toss it out.]
no subject
We have not yet confirmed if the conspiracy is organization wide. It could simply be a few loose screws in charge dictating matters; there are certainly some street level officers who I've vetted and seem clueless on the matter, and I highly doubt they are lying.
At any rate, I apologize for my gruffness, but surely now you can understand the gravity of the situation, and the necessity of taking it seriously.
no subject
You don't have to--
You didn't--
[Awkward.]
Sorry, I. Uh. [Urgh, what does he even say? Clueless. Ha. Haha. Isn't that an awful irony right now?]
[Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut. Whatever that vision said, he was no hero. This kind of thing was way out of his league, and it's not like anyone has a reason to trust him except for this weird number business.
But going back to work tomorrow as if he didn't know anything, didn't see what he just saw, makes him feel a bit sick.
...The thought of never going back at all does even more so, though he couldn't say why if asked. So now what?]
...Is there, uh, somewhere we could...talk? I mean, not that we aren't talking, but. In person.
[Kotetsu is not well-known for his talents with words, okay.]
log y/n? ALSO DON'T MIND ME JUST MAKING UP STREETS AND PLACES...
Still wary, but also aware of the larger risk in shutting everyone out, Casval considers Kotetsu's request for a few long moments then nods his approval. ]
There's a tea shop not far from where I live, on 33rd and 7th. Nondescript, and thus unlikely to draw attention, with plenty of private booths. Might I suggest there, in an hour or so?
[ And quieter, mostly as an afterthought: ]
...the tea may also help calm you, as well.
can we do action here plz? i am better at keeping track that way XD
[The lie is the first thing out of his mouth, force of habit or muscle memory or whatever the correct term is. He doesn't even think before he says it, doesn't bother to consider that it's very obvious that he's not "alright". Kotetsu is just one of those people who absolutely cannot stand to be worried about, and he even forces a small--fake--smile for the other man.]
Naaa, 33rd and 7th? I don't think I've been there before, but it shouldn't be too hard to find...
And an hour sounds good, yeah.
[He'll be late, Casval. And he'll be bitching at Siri and Google Maps the whole time he's lost.]
o7 roger that! PERMA-ACTION goes here
[ Not.
Take your time, Kotetsu. Casval's not in a much of a rush, even if he's still nervously glancing over his shoulder from time to time on his way to said shop. He selects a booth near the back, orders a cup of oolong, and waits patiently, reflecting on the day's events.
Tea really was relaxing, and he inhales its warm scent with the gratitude of a man who had been without it for far too long. ]
PERMA-ACTION you should know i legit used my phone's siri for this
D'ah! You stupid piece of crap, I said thirty-third! Thirty-third and seventh!!
[W E L P this sure is a sorry sight, innit. A few passerby are giggling behind their hands, some moving on with a private eyeroll. He taps the speaker button again, asking for at least the fifth time where the tea shop on 33rd and 7th is.
Turkey card and seven.]
...The hell does that even mean, it's not anywhere near Thanksgiving!
[Luckily, an older gentleman happens to know the shop in question, and gives him good ol' fashioned pencil-and-paper directions and this is probably the only reason Kotetsu makes it to the shop at all that night.
When he gets there, though, do excuse him for asking for "the blond guy with the froofy hair". He isn't nearly informed enough about politics to know who you are, and they never exchanged names.
Kotetsu makes his way to the booth at the back, giving the other man an awkward wave as he sits down across from him.]
Sorry I'm late. I, uh, kinda got lost.
...M'Kotetsu, by the way.
good job, good job
Not a problem. Were we to only meet under better circumstances, but such are the times.
[ Casval extends a crisp, gloved hand for a shake. ]
Captain Casval Mass, at your service. Just Captain is fine.
/takes a bow~ 1/2
...Well then. It seems like he picked a good person to go out on a limb and trust, because judging from who else he saw in that broadcast, it sounds like they're in the same boat. He extends his own to shake, at that. It's a little bit clammy, under said circumstances, but at least it's not shaking anymore?]
Naa, it's good to meetcha anyway, Casval, crappy circumstances or not.
[...yeah, Kotetsu's not really one with the formality, whoops.]
no subject
Right. Might as well get down to it. Kotetsu reaches into his pocket, hesitates a few moments longer, and then pulls out the police badge and lays it on the table. He doesn't say anything more, but the crestfallen glance he gives it speaks rather loudly on its own to the fact that this job was (is) much more than a paycheck, to him.]
no subject
The same to you, Kotetsu.
[ He lets the use of his first name slide; since the other man had granted his in turn and hadn't provided a last name to go along with it, it felt only appropriate. He can't avoid an amused quirk to his lip, though, when Kotetsu begins boggling over the menu, and only just barely refrains from a smarmy comment. In fact, he refrains from any comment at all as Kotetsu interrupts his train of thought and slides the officer's badge over. The weight of his gaze and the silence that accompanies it are indeed very telling, and even manages to humble the Captain into a similarly somber expression. When he does speak up at last, his words are chosen and intoned with care. ]
...you took it really personally, didn't you? [ Casval's fingers shift around his tea cup in a vaguely nervous twitch. ] You weren't to be faulted. None of us were. We couldn't have known, the extent of this... matter.
no subject
Twelve years.
[It’s incredible how those two words can sound so tired.]
Twelve years on the force, and I never knew a thing.
[His exhale is harsh, and he hunches forward, head propped up against his arms.]
How many people are in jail right now for something they didn’t do because of us? How many people are dead because of us? That Jack guy, we’ve been looking everywhere for him. Because a sick thug who murders an entire family in cold blood deserves to get locked up and put away forever, right?
Right?
[He grits his teeth, and oh look, he’s shaking again. His hand closes around the badge so tight that the sharp metal edges break the skin, and he doesn’t even care.]
Dammit.
no subject
Tired is such a familiar friend Casval's practically wedded it, if reluctantly. Bone deep exhaustion that's difficult to put into words, so Kotetsu doesn't even have to for Casval to inherently understand. When the other man falters, bunches his shoulders and clings tight to the badge like it's his only lifeline, he reaches forward to rest a glove atop his knuckles without even thinking. ]
The burden of blame is not yours to accept, nor shoulder all on your own. [ Casval's voice is authoritative. Assured. He speaks as a king might, absolutely confident that what he's saying is an inarguable truth. ] Don't agonize over this. Move forward with me. With the rest of us, so it doesn't happen again.
no subject
Casval's hand rests atop his own, and the sudden feeling of foreign fabric against his skin makes his head jerk upright, a small noise of surprise escaping his lips. And when the captain speaks, he listens.
...Or. Tries to listen, anyway. Because all of a sudden there's that sudden pounding of his heart in his chest and the feeling of tunnel vision, of everything hollowing out...but there's no vision to go with it this time. Instead, a prickle, just above his hand and below Casval's--as if someone had slid something thin and flat right between them.
With his free hand, he rubs at his temples a bit.]
Sorry, I--spaced for a moment.
[Not technically true, but he has no word for that strange sensation yet.]
no subject
Because as soon as Casval reaches out with his hand, his whole world caves in.
The tea shop isn't there anymore. He's in some form of hangar now, one he's never seen before. Futuristic. Advanced. Machines like the Gundam, the Sazabi, are stationed all around. There's yelling and screaming; a firefight's going on, and people in uniforms are flying around, chased by mechanics waving their wrenches around in anger. A body or two floats by, bloody, and the machines—Casval hears someone call them mobile suits—are being prepped for battle, hastily. Were these forces on the same side? No, they couldn't be. A rebellion? A coup? Maybe none of the above. There's no way to be sure, but the situation's not good.
The view pans around, to himself. He's not surprised. Shouldn't be. But he's not Char Aznable here; his outfit is different, identical, in fact, to his captain's regalia, save for a strange white mask plastered to his face, glaring outward with red eyes. He's hidden behind another one of the suits, but this one is larger than the others. Pure white, with a single horn, standing tall and proud. He's waiting for something. Someone.
And then they come, and he pounces.
It's Banagher.
It's Banagher and his breath catches in his throat because why is it Banagher? What is he doing here? Why is he...
God.
Oh, god.
No.
No, no, no. What was he doing? Why was he grabbing him like that, twisting him around, forcing him against the machine? Banagher is crying out, he wants to scream, he's in pain. He's hurting him, on purpose, delighting in it. Shoving their bodies together in the most agonizing possible way and looking ready to crush his throat once he's through. Casval wants to shout, stop hurting him, stop, he's a brat and won't believe me but he doesn't deserve this, but of course no one will hear.
And all he hears is this:
"You can no longer be part of that everyone, Banagher. Come with me. Empty yourself. Become a vessel. Join me, join me..."
Join him.
They were enemies.
They were...
The memory cuts off and Casval staggers in his seat, wide-eyed. Panicked. Terrified.
Banagher Links was his enemy, and that machine was his. The Gundam was his. Amuro. Amuro Ray. White Devil. The white unicorn.
Enemies.
Only just barely does he avoid breaking the wrist in his grip from sheer force of shock. Never mind registering Kotetsu's response, or the sudden appearance of that object; all he can do now is try to return to reality, thrown from it as he was. ]
no subject
Casval? Are you...
[No, that's obviously a stupid question. Kotetsu doesn't even bother to look at the object that falls out from between their hands as he pulls his own out from under his and stands up abruptly, his badge dropping back down to the table with a slight clink. He walks the step or two over to the other side of the table and grips the other man's shoulders tightly.]
Hey, look at me. It's okay. It's--gonna be okay, yeah? Like you were telling me, we gotta move forward together.
[Later, he'll apologize for the blood he's getting on your clothes--he's sort of forgotten that he injured his hand some moments earlier. In a sad sort of way, Casval's panic is more helpful to Kotetsu than his own reassurances were. Someone else's suffering is more easy to manage than his own feelings. This, he knows how to do.]
no subject
After a long, long minute, Casval comes to, the name Banagher on his lips when he finally drifts back into full consciousness. ]
...ah.
[ Shaking his head to clear it, or try in vain, anyway, Casval blinks, once, twice, three times. What happened? Another vision, another memory... was it just coincidence? No, too significant. Too real. Too raw.
We gotta move forward together.
The statement, simple as it is, grounds him, and Casval nods decisively, returning to his usual (hahahahaha) self. Confident. Focused. ]
Right. Of course, Kotetsu. This isn't a path meant to be walked alone.
no subject
...suddenly grimaces at the sight of the blood on his hand and now on Casval's uniform.]
Ah, crap. I'm really sorry.
no subject
Reaching into his pocket, Casval retrieves his handkerchief, and without asking, without a single word, takes Kotetsu's bloodied fingers and begins drying them.
At least it gives him something to focus on, other than his own turbulent thoughts. ]
1/2
He says nothing until the other is done, pulling his hand away quietly.]
I, ah...I...
[That is most definitely not a slight, embarrassed flush around the ears. It must be a trick of the light.]
That is. Thanks. I'll uh. I mean, I'm sure I've got some bandaids somewhere in my apartment. It's fine, yeah?
2/2
...or, y'know, he could burn his tongue on it from not thinking before he acts. Kotetsu just barely manages to avoid dropping it on the table and spilling the hot liquid everywhere, wincing and fanning his tongue.]
--D'ah, hot, hot....
[Wait, what's that thing there on the table...]
Was that there before?
[He can't shake the bizarre feeling that it's familiar, somehow. Almost like it's supposed to be his.]
TSUN TSUN DERE DERE
Alright.
[ His voice is quiet. Reserved. Reticent. He's about to pull away, suggest they part, but then the waitress arrives and bloody idiot, did you just burn your mouth on tea of all things? He sighs, shaking his head and sucked from his stupor... which is honestly for the better, and he's more grateful for it than Kotetsu will likely ever know.
With his attention drawn to the mysterious object, Casval blinks at it, reaching for the thin piece of cloth. ]
It appears to be a mask, of some sort. [ He holds it up for Kotetsu to properly inspect. ] Do you recognize it?
SO KAWAII DESU
...He really can't shake how much it feels like he knows it. And it sounds crazy, completely balls insane because strange items do not randomly materialize out of thin air--it cannot possibly be his, but then, how was anything he's experienced tonight possible?
Kotetsu hesitates briefly, uncertain, but then decides he might as well tell Casval what he's thinking. He's already been more honest with the man than anyone else before in his life. A few more moments of honesty won't kill him.]
I...feel like it's supposed to be mine.