2019-08-15 - Dead Girls Feel No Suffering
| Title: Dead Girls Feel No Suffering | |
|---|---|
| Summary: After the defeat of Westar's latest Nakewameke, a couple of Dark Fall members go to have post-defeat ramen and a chat about the nature of misery. | |
| Who: | |
| Where: Taiyou Ramen Stand | |
| OOC - IC Date: 2019-08-15 - June 23rd, 2015 | |
<Pose Tracker> Westar [Infinity Institute (U)] has posed.
<SoundTracker> New Power, Cure Stick - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gKRJ1SCensI
It's a noisy evening in Asakusa, as a great commotion is going on in the main market streets. Chaos and calamity, trouble and turmoil, a menacing monster to ruin shopping trips and cause misery.
It's slightly odd-looking. A traditional wooden bun steamer was chosen to corrupt, but the Nakewameke of Labyrinth are almost always partly mechanical - especially when Westar sends them out. The result is a clanking robot whose limbs and torso all resemble wooden barrels, venting steam with every step. Billowing clouds of mist make it hard to see exactly what transpires...
...but it is very, very loud. Defiant shouts, resounding blasts, fierce impacts that make a giant bun steamer go flying. In spite of its stature, it might be outmatched. There's a shout, culminating in a ferocious "FRESH!", and the mist gets very bright indeed.
Westar doesn't stay to watch his monster get demolished - he's been at this enough to recognize when it's over. Gloomily, he picks his way among bits of debris flung from the battle, absent-mindedly sidestepping a searing bolt of light, and just makes his way further down the street.
His footsteps come to a halt by Taiyou Ramen Stand - still intact and still manned, in spite of the excitement. Shoulders heavy and stomach empty, he makes his way to the counter, brushing cape aside as he takes a seat.
"...one large beef ramen, please."
<Pose Tracker> Mikoto Minagi [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.
Everything looks small from a distance. It's just coincidental that one of those things is small up close, too.
Mikoto Minagi needs to figure out how to make them pay, because her mind keeps clicking back to one option, and it's still too raw and new in her mind. She thought maybe she could learn something if she shadowed one of her senior agents, but all that mist makes it hard to see, even with keen eyes.
She could go in and /help,/ she supposes, but Westar said they didn't much do that, and anyway, she's trying to figure out how it works, and she'd mess that whole process up if she got involved.
A figure in the shadows deflects a slab of robot which goes flying out of the morass a little too close to her, and springs away before the rest of it can come apart. Westar's leaving, after all. That must mean it's time to go.
A girl with a sword-case slung over one shoulder sweeps the veil of Taiyou's ramen stand aside, and goes to sit down. Maybe it's not so strange to see caped figures stalking in. It's far past a reasonable hour, and this is when the spirits pour out. Of course, there is a certain sense of politeness to ghosts. "The same," Mikoto says quietly to the patron of the establishment, glancing to the broader man beside her. "Thank you."
Mikoto, at least, isn't a terribly unusual sight in these places, strange as she sometimes is.
She still likes ramen.
Once they've gotten their meals - no self-respecting yatai worker would interrupt late workings, even if these people /aren't/ ghosts - Mikoto murmurs the usual gratitude and cracks her chopsticks open, taking a slow mouthful or three. "... Westar left," she says, finally, looking to him in light confusion. "Why?"
<Pose Tracker> Westar [Infinity Institute (U)] has posed.
Westar doesn't really have a lot to say at first. The time waiting for the soup is spent in silence, failure hanging heavy on his shoulders. When it arrives, though -
Ah, warm as the summer evening might pretend to be, that delicious steam brings true warmth to body and soul. That soy-scented broth, the shavings of beef, the dozen and one vegetables included as garnishes - the ramen here gleams with the heat of hospitality.
There's a snap as Westar separates his chopsticks. Unlucky, perhaps, there's a chunk jutting out of the top - but little does he care. Noodles, first, then a mouthful of beef, and it isn't until he's swallowed down four mouthfuls of ramen that he answers his companion.
"...no point in watching things fall apart." It's quiet, his voice - no boastful bellow, no proud proclamation. His words are those he might not even admit to Soular, but someone like Minagi isn't likely to try to twist them on him. "I try to support them, I really do. Some days there's a chance it'll make the difference, might tip things over into victory - or it's worth it just to keep things going longer. Sometimes, though....you know how many times I've gone out there, Minagi?"
He pauses, slurping a long mouthful of ramen - a bit crass, perhaps, but nothing that hasn't been done before. "...I'm learning to see the writing on the wall. Some days, you can tell that your side's losing, and it's leave or risk getting set on fire."
A moment's pause, as he fishes around for that decorative little cake, holding it up to the yatai's light for a moment. "...also, I was hungry."
Chomp. Ramen's best enjoyed when hot.
<Pose Tracker> Mikoto Minagi [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.
<SoundTracker> La Roux - Growing Pains https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qg1dYfnpW3k
There's something clean and genuine to Mikoto, even now she tries so hard to play a game she doesn't understand. She is unused to lying and posturing. She does neither, as she listens to Westar's quiet admission. She sees no need to try.
(Chopsticks were a metaphor, once. It hardly seems important now.)
Westar tells her how little point there is, sometimes. He asks that incisive question, and Mikoto hums acknowledgement as her gaze slips back to her ramen-bowl, shaded with some old sadness. She knows he's tried a lot of times. She knows because they stopped him so many times, and so did she.
There's nothing unusual to slurping ramen, in Japan; it's a perfectly normal way to express the food is good. Perhaps it's a cultural difference, but Mikoto doesn't seem fazed. She nods, with a quiet thoughtful noise, and takes a few more mouthfuls of her own bowl in silence. "Me too." On their hunger.
It's good, she insists, to herself. This ramen is good.
"So it's better to give up and leave," she concludes, finally. "Even if it didn't work." Maybe the words are shaped like condemnation, but they're not delivered with any particular invective. "... guess it makes sense. There's... lots of times it felt... too dangerous to fight any more." Where the danger lies is a variable thing.
Another mouthful, another. It's good.
"... monster's not very dangerous," she points out, after another pause. "Lots worse things to make magic. But Westar's aren't deadly. They're annoying." Is /that/ what magical girls think?! With curiosity borne of her own deficiency, she asks: "Why?"
<Pose Tracker> Westar [Infinity Institute (U)] has posed.
There's no judgment from Minagi, which is a relief for the Executive. Frankly, his orders starting out were vague, but there's a niggling notion that doing things the way he has violated the spirit of them.
As long as he gets some kind of results, though-
-well, expectations are apparently low.
The ramen is good, he silently agrees, and after sipping from the bowl he can't hide the smile on his face. For him, the sentiment is earnest, without regret or remembrence.
Compared with the food he's known all his life, everything here is delicious.
Westar can't hide the side glance at Mikoto's comment of 'too dangerous to fight', and honestly doesn't even try. There have been dangers, and she was chief among them - but she's an ally now, so he doesn't voice the thought.
There's another question, though, and Westar contemplates a ramen noodle as he considers his answer. He knows his monsters are seen as more annoying than deadly, he knows what kind of reputation he has among the magical girls as a whole, he knows what his actions have been.
There's no anger. Not even resignation. When he speaks, it's like he's reciting a truth from the telephone book. "Deadly force isn't part of my orders."
He slurps the noodle down, and then clarifies. "My orders are to gather as much Misery Energy as possible. If a Nakewameke is active while people are sad or scared or upset, then we make progress. It's as simple as that." Maybe not so simple, with trans-dimensional searches and Northa siphoning from the gauge for her own schemes and a dozen other factors - but those aren't part of his orders, either. "Getting people killed is a waste of resources - dead bodies can't get emotional about things, so there's not much point in doing that."
Maybe that's the full answer - but after another long gulp of broth, a few more noodles, a few slivers of beef - after all that, his shoulders soften a bit, and from his slouch he glances at Mikoto. "Besides. If it's a deadly threat, you people - well, the people you used to work with, anyway - tend to answer in kind, and I can get more work done if I'm not dead either."
<Pose Tracker> Mikoto Minagi [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.
Westar is following orders.
Mikoto nods, with an affirmative noise; it makes perfect sense to someone like her. And all the things he says make sense, too. There's a twitch of a frown as she glances to him from around a mouthful of ramen and he lumps her in with /them,/ but he corrects himself quickly enough, so she doesn't complain. Especially not when he's still /right./
"I'm... supposed to make them suffer," she volunteers, after another moment of silence devoted to her noodle bowl. "I don't have to kill them. But... it's hard," she confesses, in quiet sadness. "They go too far, and I get too mad, and... and I'm scared I'm hesitating. I can't do that." Perhaps Westar isn't the only one who'd admit things here he wouldn't elsewhere.
She pokes at a ramen noodle with her chopstick. "I thought... maybe if I followed Westar... I could learn how," she says, not quite able to look at him. "'Cause Westar used to make me feel bad. I don't, want to kill them. I just - want to hurt them." The word catches in her throat a little. It must be a shred of vegetable.
<Pose Tracker> Westar [Infinity Institute (U)] has posed.
Orders are orders, and Westar is just glad that someone else not from Labyrinth gets it.
Even the large bowl of ramen can only go so far, and the noodles are getting further apart in Westar's bowl. Maybe that's convenient; he can pick at it a little more idly while Minagi talks about her own orders, her own troubles. He nods sadly at the concerns, at the fears that the magical girls seem to invoke - and his brow furrows a bit. Whatever fury was brewing turns to surprise, though, at an absurd idea.
"Huh? You want to learn from me?" He scratches the back of his head, bafflement written plain on his face as he tries to figure out what she means. "I follow orders, but Soular's way more effective. I just keep going out and hope quantity will make up for quality. I mean, I can try..."
What did he do to Minagi?
Maybe there's a more useful topic. "So - the magical girls. Most of them keep trying and trying to change your mind, to try telling you that your orders are wrong and causing suffering. I've known...allies who got swayed by that kinda thing, so all I can suggest is...look at the big picture. What you're doing all this for." What Mobius wants is deontologically good, and that's what matters.
"As for you...I dunno. I guess I told you what you were doing? Not sure how that would make someone miserable..." Shrugging, he turns back to his bowl, because broth must be slurped when hot.
<Pose Tracker> Mikoto Minagi [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.
There is something immutable about commands from on high.
Even when they're vague.
Mikoto's Lord Brother told her to make them suffer. He didn't tell her /how./ She just has to figure it out. She just has to figure out a way how to do it without falling into berserkergang and making a terrible mistake.
It's like she's fighting a war on two fronts. Someone probably said not to do that, at some point in Japanese history.
Westar is surprised to hear that Mikoto is trying to learn from him, and she's confused to see /him/ so baffled. There's just question marks all around, as she scrunches her lip around a stray noodle. (It disappears a moment later.) "Soular made me feel bad too," Mikoto supposes, on making her miserable. "... but Soular does it different."
Even if she tried very, very hard, Mikoto doesn't think she'd ever be able to follow Soular's example. He's too thoughtful about it. It's hard for Mikoto to think at all in the middle of a fight.
She picks at her dwindling bowl, glancing aside as Westar advises her. She hums over the remnants of her noodles, looking away when he tells her to look at why she's doing it, and listens without looking to the rest.
"For our future..." That's what she's doing this all for. She doesn't need to know any more than that, does she?
She doesn't need to think about what that future looks like, or why they need to cry so much.
"... magical girls... say lots of things. How... I know this is wrong, I'll get hurt, I'm not happy, I'm... 'brainwashed'... whatever that is," Mikoto grumbles, in grumpy aside, because she's never heard the word before. "It's too much. I'm so - mad. I want to make them pay. Or... maybe Miroku does," she adds, more uncertainly, shaking her head. "I don't know. Maybe it don't matter." They're of a kind, the two of them.
She puffs out her cheek with a grumbling little noise, weaving a stray noodle around her chopstick. It's easier to focus on Westar's actions than the girls'. "Westar... saw what I was. I felt... really bad, 'cause I thought I was different. Thought I was on their side. I didn't wanna see it." Munch, munch, go the noodles. "... guess truth hurts worse."
<Pose Tracker> Westar [Infinity Institute (U)] has posed.
Everything for Mobius.
Everything for Lord Brother.
So much similarity, even with the unfathomable gulf that is one of them being horribly mistaken.
Westar, like Mikoto, is nearly at the end of his bowl. While she ponders, he leaps figuratively ahead, picking out the last of the noodles and garnishes. It's still delicious, but it's beginning to cool off - but then, he's almost done.
He waits until Mikoto's done talking, done reminiscing, before he speaks again. No authority, no fear - he's musing aloud, almost curious. "That's...kind of the weird thing about life on Earth. This idea that people can do things differently, and not have one of the ways be wrong...it's weird. It's confusing. But here we are."
Bowl in both hands, he swirls the broth. "Like you said, you've seen my monsters. My strategy might not be yours. But you're the one wielding Miroku, right? Go with the strategy you think would work. If you want my advice, though..." Swirl, swirl - and then in one fell swoop, Westar chugs the rest of the broth.
Glug, glug, glug - thunk. Bowl drained, he gives Mikoto as serious a look as he can muster. "I do my best when something makes me miserable, and I turn around and use that. You need to hurt them? Think about what hurt you the most. That might work best."
There's a clink as he sets down his payment on the counter, clapping his hands as he nods to the cook. Minagi gets a grin from the man, an encouraging nod. "You're pretty scary, I think you'll be fine. Just give me a shout if you need anything, okay? And thanks for sharing the meal." With a flourish of his cape, he ducks out of the yatai, starting towards home.
Eventually he might remember to drop the transformation.
<Pose Tracker> Mikoto Minagi [Ohtori Academy (11)] has posed.
"Sometimes it's gotta be different," Mikoto supposes. "That's why it's not just me." She's all the strength her Lord Brother needs, out here, but sometimes he needs a chisel rather than a chainsaw.
And that's why they keep Nagi around.
Mikoto supposes she should be grateful to him for how he must have served her Lord Brother while she'd forgotten where to find him. But... no. No, he's still a loathsome little gnat, even if he has some use.
It's easy to feel annoyed at the people standing beside her, when they were needling her not so long ago. It's easy to feel ashamed of how she opposed them, not knowing the truth. But even if Westar has a different approach, Mikoto thinks there's a certain similarity to their philosophies, and that might make it easier to talk to him, too. They're both hungry.
"My strategy..." Mikoto muses, and follows suit with the last of her broth. She's never really had a strategy: only instinct. It's hard to take those intuitive parts, remove and explain them, name them for explicit thought. She still remembers struggling to do so on the ship like a hand, in that cell with Endo. She's never been a very good teacher. She doesn't remember enough.
(Mikoto has not approached Endo since... for a while now. It's just too complicated.)
But as guarded as she is - tries to be, Mikoto does want advice, desperately. And so when Westar looks to her he will find her looking up at him, attentive and intent. If there's something sickly about the taste of his advice, it's drowned out by beef and broth.
It makes perfect, awful sense, face dawning pained recognition. She grunts agreement, with a firm and serious nod. "I understand." If it hurts her, it will hurt them, too. Of course. She was amongst them for so long. She must have picked up something of their sensibilities. So if she doesn't like it...
Westar grins to Mikoto, but Mikoto can't quite muster a smile back. "'Kay," she nods, again, and at least it's friendlier this time. "Thanks, Westar."
And she is left alone to finish off the remnants of her noodles.
And she is left alone to think about...
'I can see the pain in your eyes! The one who's really going to suffer is you! Not us!'
...---...
"Mikoto." Her Lord Brother turns his head, smiling to her, warm and welcoming as she approaches him, her equipment placed aside. His gaze casts with casual ease over her body, the trace suggestions of battle she has worn so often on her return to his demesne, and she looks up to him in firm assurance that his wishes have been carried out.
She doesn't waste words on the telling, any more. How much it costs her. What she thinks. Why she's still sad sometimes, even though she has everything she ever wanted.
His hand comes to rest beside that cut in her shirt, at the shoulder, so gently. "... I see you've been working hard." And her gaze softens at the recognition, cracks at the edges. He praises her and she smiles, because there is approval in the way he breaks his long silence, approval in his eyes. "You wound them so deeply. Listen to their hearts scream..."
There are no secret things as she looks up to him, gentled under his touch. He looks at her as if she is the only thing he sees, and his loving attention is a blessing, the only thing which keeps her fighting under the constant onslaught of their attacks. But her eyes remember what her throat has forgotten how to say. She has never been able to hide anything. The way she does not like their cries - the way she screams just as fiercely.
He reaches up, fond of voice and touch as a strong hand reaches out to play one of her black braids about his fingers. "I know," he assures her, quietly, concern in the curve of his brow; she knows it is true because he loves her. She hears so much in two words, recognition of all the pain she suffers, the weight of what he asks. "There is so much power in their pain, Mikoto. That power is something I need. For our country, for the peace of the world..."
His fingers tuck that braid behind her ear, delicately. "... for our happiness..."
She tilts her face into the motion, acquiescent and allayed in the face of his intensity, framed by warm purple light.
"... bring me the strength to build our future. Bring me their suffering."
Distantly Mikoto remembers what Fate has said, and thinks it a strange little thing, that she warned against her Lord Brother hurting her, when the truth is so different.
He needs it so badly.
Mikoto has no choice but to grasp a double-edged blade.
She'll do it to herself.
"Yes, Lord Brother," she finds she replies, with little thought paid to it; it is heartfelt for all its automation.
She will shatter herself on the cliffs of her loyalty. It is for his sake.
