driftfleet | 'cause it's better than nothing

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'cause it's better than nothing

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ROOMS BY CHARACTER

N - P

Otono-Tachibana Makie

Q - S

Sandalio "Biffy" de Rabiffano

T - V

W - Z

(last updated: 1/25/19)

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[Tim's in luck, then. The two of them are definitely not fucking in the back streets. Nope.

They're fighting. Manji has a ridiculous arsenal of weapons literally up his sleeves, and Makie, well... the shamisen she had is discarded safely out of harm's way, the top pulled off, and she's wielding a three-section bladed staff. There is no contest. She could finish him in moments if she chose, but each time she backs off, vanishing into the streets, and he is forced to track her down. She stabs him literally through a wall at one point.

They play cat and mouse with sharp blades until the moment Makie gets the drop on him-- literally-- and then abruptly loses her nerve, backing away.

((ooc: for ease of clarity, read from that link to the end of that chapter.))]

[Tim turns his head away from the sight. He's seen a lot of blood in his life but Manji seems so cavalier about dying, giving advice, goading her on. It hits a little closer to home than he wants it to. He backs up slowly out of the alley.]

[When he turns back to the main street, he is no longer alone. The woman who was just fighting is somehow also here, shamisen in hand, regarding Tim with sorrowful eyes.]

I am sorry. No memory you find at the end of this path lacks bloodshed.

[Being address all of sudden after largely going unnoticed puts Tim further on edge and he backs away from her a little]

I was certainly getting that impression.

Where are we? and how do I get out?

You are new, then. [And backing away from her. Well, it's to be expected.]

How you leave is up to you, but you cannot help but see memories along the way. If you prefer less horrifying ones, go back the way you came.

New? new to the fleet you mean?

What is this? Why am I seeing these memories? Are they yours? or Manji's? and explain what you mean by how I leave is up to me?

[So many questions. Makie has little patience for such interrogation in normal circumstances, and she merely fixes him with a stony look.]

Death. Pain. Grace. Warmth. Choose one. Your questions will be answered along the way.

[Well, some of them.]

Grace. [He doesn't look happy with the lack of answers]

[Eh, she's used to men not looking happy with her, and meets it with indifference, turning to point along the street behind her.]

Follow the music.

[There is indeed music echoing up the street; the same mournful tune as earlier in the forest.]

Edited 2019-01-28 05:45 (UTC)

Thank you?

[He sounds unsure whether he should be thankful or perhaps not knowing if he can trust her. Regardless he will follow her advice and follow the music.]

[The music will lead him to a wide street of what he would recognise as Tokugawa-era Edo. Lanterns bobbing, the sound of festivities somewhere distant, and mournful shamisen music echoing from the building directly ahead. It's an old building, wooden floors that have seen better days but are nevertheless polished, and shoji doors that have been repaired multiple times with expert fingers.

There is a woman at the doorway, unfamiliar but dressed in modest finery, her hair elaborately done up in several combs, who smiles cheerfully at those who pass. The sign above the door proclaims that this is a tea house.

When Tim draws closer, the woman addresses him directly, smile warm. "Welcome! Can I interest you in conversation? Or perhaps the arts?"]

[Tim is still wary about this place and steps away from the woman initially, before looking behind him for Makie but seeing nothing, he sighs. Hopefully, this is the way he needs to go

He gives a weak smile, nods and approaches the tea house]

Yes please.

[The woman bows, moving aside from the doorway with a flourish to invite him in. "Enter freely, young sir. May your evening be pleasant."

And inside, there is warmth, lit candles, and muted laughter coming from several of the rooms. This is indeed a tea house, geisha within its walls smiling and entertaining their guests. The music is coming from a room further past the main area where a smaller party is taking place; a handful of men and two geisha.

One of them is Makie, her hair long and styled. The shamisen is hers, and she plays it artfully for those within. The other geisha glances up at the new arrival and smiles cheerfully. "Come in! O-Maki, we have another."]

[Tim approaches Makie cautiously]

Hello O-Maki? is that right?

[She smiles at him, warm, though her eyes are still sad.] That's right. Have you come to hear me play?

[Tim will smile politely back]

I think I have. I was told to follow the music.

Then by all means, join us.

[She bows her head to her music. And the scene shifts, subtly, into memory; perhaps unnoticed at first, unless he tries to interact with it.

Makie sings. She sings a melancholy ballad of lovers and thieves and tragedy, and her audience is rapt, only to break into cheers and applause when she is done.

"No false modesty, now! It's the first time you've performed for an audience, you say? Wonderful!"

Makie smiles in that self-deprecating way, bowing her head. "I fear I made your poor ears suffer..."

"Oh, no, no." The speaker this time is the other woman, pride in her features. "It's not so rare to hear fine singing, fine playing... but few girls your age can imbue it with such feeling. Or at least, such is my poor opinion. And you, good sir?"

The man she addresses laughs, waving his empty cup around, stilling only when she moves to refill it for him. "Ohatsu, you took the words right out of my mouth!"

"Excuse me," says another with a smile, eyes more calculating than the rest. He is not drunk. Not anywhere near. "O-Maki, was it? What was that song called? I fancy myself a connoisseur of the nagauta, but..."

"Please excuse such amateurish work," Makie says softly, putting her shamisen away. "It was a feeble composition of my own. I thought it perhaps appropriate for such dismal weather..." Her voice drops, and her thoughts are far away. "Heavy and lowering..."

There's a brief moment of silence as the man's smile fades. And it's broken by the first man, laughing raucously again. "You're no match for her, boy! A magnificent singer, and a real poet to boot! A real find eh?"

"Yes," says the watchful one. "A well-turned woman. Quite extraordinary." He drinks from his cup, eyes never leaving Makie. "What verse might dare I spin myself... to extol the virtues of that alluring form?"

"My goodness, the young sir, too, is a master of fair speech." Ohatsu sounds amused, glancing across the room. "O-Maki, fill up the cup of our talented guest."

Makie moves to do so, her form perfect, kneeling in front of him with grace. And he watches her for a long moment-- as she refills his cup and tips the jug back, his hand skulks its way up the voluminous kimono sleeve, and she freezes.

"I seem to remember seeing it before, that pretty face of yours... little O-Maki." His voice is low, unheard by the majority of the room as they continue talking. "Yes, yes... now I remember. Up until just a while ago, there was a girl just like you in a whorehouse... in Monzen-Naka-Cho."

As Makie tenses, he grins. "Hey, no reason to get all tight-assed about it. I don't make mistakes, after all. It's the face of the woman I slept with." He snickers lightly, hand moving in that sleeve to touch her, and Makie doesn't move-- she honestly doesn't know how to react. What's allowed. Whether this will mean she can't stay. "I just couldn't get you out of my head, darlin'. How about it? Tonight? For old time's sake?"

"Sir!"

They both glance around in shock at Ohatsu's sharp call, who watches them both with a steely expression. And then Ohatsu comes to Makie's rescue. "I must ask you to press no further. The women of this house are geisha, sir. We sell conversation and the arts... and nothing more."

The man apologises, pulling his hands back and leaving Makie be, though much of the conciliatory conversation that follows is lost in the relief she feels that this, at least, is one conflict she doesn't have to deal with. Ohatsu casts her a warm smile and continues on as if nothing happened. And soon after, the group of men leave.

Tim can either follow them out, or stay with the two women.]

[Tim is choosing to stay, seeing no reason to follow any of the men since Makie is the one who keeps appearing in this dreamscape. He will approach them both]

Thank you for the music. It seems you've led a very... interesting and difficult life.

[When he speaks, Omatsu glances at Makie, then bows graciously to Tim-- and flickers out of existence.

Makie picks up her shamisen from where it was stored, looking faintly embarrassed.]

It is a life no worse than any other. I have merely made poor choices. But music... [She glances down at the shamisen.] I enjoy it. As do others. It's the one thing I can do that brings peace.

[Well, that and sleep around.]

Edited 2019-02-06 00:25 (UTC)

You are a very good player, and I'm not just saying that to flatter you. Do you find peace in the music or do you just play to provide it to others?

I was also told to follow the music in order to leave this place and somehow ended up here. You wouldn't happen to know the way out?

[She inclines her head in thanks at the compliment and gives the rest of what he has to say some thought. Or appears to, at least.]

Both, I think. I enjoy playing for myself. And I know others appreciate my songs, so I play for them also.

As for leaving... it's difficult. This place is forever changing. It wasn't so cold last time. I suppose I've changed. [Yeah, that made a whole pile of sense. She hesitates.] I suppose... look for a door that stands out.

Thank you, I'll try that and see where it gets me.

[He goes to leave and stops and bows to her]

Maybe you can play for me when we meet on the Fleet

[And then he'll head out, looking for a door that stands out to him]

[She bows back as he leaves.

...problem is, the doors inside look pretty much all the same; paper shouji doors, meticulously repaired, but none of them stand out. Perhaps outside?]

[Tim will eventually wander out again and head back down the street, keeping out the way but looking for something that stands out in this mindscape]

[So how about a door that seems to be standing on the middle of a small bridge? That's definitely out of place.

There's a couple talking on the bridge right in front of it. One of them is Makie. Looks like, in order to leave, Tim's going to have to brave one last memory.]

'cause it's better than nothing

The heat is definitely to blame /shakes fist at it

Re: The heat is definitely to blame /shakes fist at it

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cw: talk of prostitution and rape, graphic violence

Re: cw: talk of prostitution and rape, graphic violence