001 | video.

[permit]

[ when the feed flicks on, it’s to the simple image of a sharply dressed man adjusting his glasses upon the bridge of his nose. or rather, it’s the lens glare that strikes the view first, a flash of blue that obscures the friendly(?) way he eyes the viewer, the practiced way he smiles. ]

My apologies. [ the tone, too, is terribly kept, composed and precise. ] If I may, I kindly request that you lend me your brief attention for but a few minutes of your time.

First, allow me to introduce myself: I am Munakata Reishi. You will have to forgive me, I’m afraid, as my recent arrival will mean my lines of inquiry will run along the road of repetition.

[ it’s formality and ease in idle, clear-cut motions; he laces his fingers together and rests them neatly on the table set before him. his smile hasn’t moved. ]

There is, I understand, a . . . certain freedom to living in the time before we are called to action. Training is -- was mandatory, was it not? I don't suppose all of you have been keeping up with your weekly regimen during this temporary state of confusion.

But I digress.

Let me cut straight to the chase, then.

Certain concerns come to mind. Minimal organization though we may have, I admit I’m rather lost. [ there’s a breath of laughter, possibly meant to curb the tension… not to create it. ] With so many people in a state of little to no enforcement, is it safe there on Earth, I wonder?

. . . And what kind of activities, pray tell, have you found to be the most beneficial use of your undoubtedly limitless spare time?


PRIVATE; TO SARUHIKO FUSHIMI

[ it's a text, simple and innocuous. ]

I trust I find you well.

Comments

video... ish...

[clansman]

[ this feed reflects an empty sky. blackened bare, and completely devoid of any living beings whatsoever.

the silence goes on for a while.

eventually a finger taps the tablet twice, just to be sure the post's ended. a ring winks silver. ]

You finished?

[ tl;dr ]

"private" texts to your employee, what will people say

[scepterho]

( fushimi's response is a little delayed. extremely delayed, actually. he read it as soon as it came through but spent a small amount of time in that futile headspace of "if i ignore it i don't have to deal with it."

plus, it seems like a trap. )

As well as anybody could be. ( he already doesn't want to know where this is going. )

[voice]

[ringthenoise]

Safe?

Nope, not at all.

But that's what makes it fun, yeah?

... video it is

[permit]

[ . . . there is, he acknowledges, for a span of time indulged for no longer than a moment, a feeling akin to deep offense.

not, of course, for the cold reception -- that much is expected, just as this much might be expected, too. he's scanned past the other entries made to the network, after all, and the possibility didn't elude him. there are stranger things, there are people pulled from different dimensions, he's on the moon -

. . . and still, he simply stares at the screen unblinking, a video feed set to pause. a second passes, then three - ]

[permit]

[ -- and then, someone presses play, and the feeling is gone. ]

Ah. [ a smile, all pleasantries and none of the sympathy. ] Did I disturb your rest?

""well no wonder he's the favorite"

[permit]

I wonder.

[ what cruel and baseless suspicion -- he's only checking in to see that they didn't lose pieces of fushimi in transit. ):

and anyway - ]

Will you be reporting in soon?

video;

[permit]

The appeal is lost on me, I'm afraid.

[ a slight cant of the head, but it's less bemusement than it is humoring. ] I take it you're taking advantage of the freedom?

[clansman]

[ the faint crunch of snow breaking as someone rolls over -- but he laughs, anyway. ]

Sorry you couldn't do it up close.

[permit]

[ . . . hoh. ] An apology is unnecessary.

For you see - [ it's some kind of tone -- terse and humorless despite the smile he says it with. ]

I suppose you could always make it up to me.

[clansman]

Yeah? [ all drawl. ] And how's that?

1/2

[permit]

. . . By humoring me.

[permit]

I can't imagine a bed in the snow [ ground, grave ] would be quite so comfortable.

Does it really suit you?

Suoh Mikoto.

[clansman]

[ silence again, and a slow exhale, unraveling white. ]

Munakata Reishi.

[ every syllable deliberate. ]

S'it matter where I'm sleeping?

[permit]

Not to me, perhaps.

[ perhaps. it's the fact he's lying in the snow, he thinks -- still talking -- that's the terrible joke. ]

Although I would say- [ it comes out, weighed heavy with the irony, low and dragged with the inflection. ] that it doesn't . . .

. . . suit you.

[clansman]

. . . so. Just what'd suit me better?

[ the screen dims a little, swept under shadow as the speaker, still unseen, sits up. laughter curls the words, low and languid. ]

The chains?

[voice]

[ringthenoise]

Sure am.

But hangin' around some lunar military base or whatever isn't my style. I'll take yetis over a buncha soldiers and scientists any day.

[permit]

Don't they.

[ it's (deliberately) gentle, for all that he's caught on.

for all the cues suoh may be dropping.

. . . then again, the red king has never had to try for it to always boil down to this. ]

You seemed to enjoy wearing them, evidenced by how long you tolerated our protocol.

video;

[permit]

[ . . . ]

As company?

[clansman]

[ and, at last, he sighs. gentleness, is it. ]

. . . might wanna grab better mattresses sometime.

[ thoughtfully - ]

Food's better out here, too.

[permit]

[ i assume you wouldn't protest to more snow, he almost says, but . . . ah. that'd be telling. ]

Is that so? [ it almost, almost sounds genuinely curious. ] What have they been feeding you?

[clansman]

Yeti.

[permit]

Yeti.

[clansman]

[ . . . ]

Want me to say it again?

[permit]

[ . . . ]

No need. [ simple and easy is the curve of his smile to the image of the sky. ] But how discomfiting.

Almost cannibalism, one might say.

[clansman]

Yeah?

[ a beat, working through thoughts. ]

That make it be cheap enough for Scepter 4?