duologs | June Catch-All/Quest Log

[ All Wolfwood wants is to not be a useless shit.

While he's a good marksmen and trained in close combat, he's at his most lethal with Punisher on his back, of which he is currently bereft. Which is why he's currently running for his life trying to hide from the bees that he's supposed to be catching, ducking into a thick brush that he hopes is too dense for the bees to follow him through.

There, he sees a little wooden doll scheming. He's about to throw it at the cloud of bees as a distraction, when the doll moves.

Maybe it's a helpful NPC? ]

Oi. [ Hey!! Buddy!! ] You got any bee capturing magic?

[Neither helpful nor an NPC I'm afraid.

There are many things about these new dual worlds that Pinocchio does not grasp. For instance, why were there two at the same time in the first place? He also does and does not get what a computer is. Or electricity. Like, it's there in the back of his head, but only half the time, so he'll flick a switch without thinking when he enters a room and suddenly there's a light on. Neat, cool, love an absence of open flame. As a wholly wooden guy that seems like a solid plus. Then he'll have to look at a...uh. Thingie. With the button-letters on it, but they scrambled the alphabet so that it starts with Q-W-E, and that's really fucking weird, but he's supposed to write like that on these magic mirror things, except that knife guy told him that it wasn't a magic mirror, it was just like a cool glass machine that did whatever you told it with the buttons? Or you strap your head into it and then it takes you to this second world, which feels like a real world but it's not supposed to be a real world, and there's a bunch of fake people walking around in it that don't know they're fake, and everyone's just cool with that?

Holy shit he's getting a headache. The point is, there is very little he truly understands about either world, even if one looks much more like home than the other. The one thing he does know for sure is the value of money: a small sum of which some guy had dropped into the bush while running screaming from a bunch of bees.

Pinocchio had dashed in after the flash of coins, easily fetching the fallen gold pieces from the twisted underbrush. Now, what to do with them? He could definitely catch up to the guy who'd dropped them, they weren't his to keep. But also, if this place wasn't real than was it really stealing if he just slipped them into his pocket? Called it Finder's Keeper's? Was he going to get hexed if he did? Feels like a prime crime-and-consequence situation. Then again, free money! Then aga—as dlfkj]

AAH! [WHY IS HE IN THE AIR?? Pinocchio flails in the hold (dropping the coins at once, RIP), twisting his head around to face whoever had nabbed him.]

I'm sorry, what? [His painted brows twist over wide dots for eyes.] Why would I — buddy, look at me! I'm a child! I'm a — why would I have magic specifically for bees?!

Edited 2023-05-29 14:40 (UTC)

[Fukawa cannot believe the gall of this place, setting them to such an impossible task. Insects were volatile, inescapable, and spawned nearly as fast as bacteria. The only way to be truly rid of them was to set a bomb off, and even then they were more likely to survive the blast than any other creature.

To be capturing them alive?]

AAAAAAAAH!!!

[This is her nightmare.

Fukawa can be found fetal on the ground, screaming bloody murder and blindly swatting a net at a billowing swarm of bees above. They aren't descending on her yet, but they sure aren't fans of being smacked around. Help.

Someone. Anyone.]

[Help.

Bees don't scare Roland much. He does, however, very much fear what they'll do to Fukawa at the rate she's going. Her swatting forces him to give her some measure of berth, and he dares a step toward her with a boutonniere in one outstretched hand that he hopes will discourage the drilbees from retaliating. It's quite colorful to the rest of him, given that he still wears the habit from Norzelia in the ON world.]

Calm yourself, Fukawa! Our objective is to retrieve the drilbees safely. You'll hurt yourself [and the bees] if you provoke them further.

[In what universe would Fukawa Toko, forever devoted to her beloved Byakuya-sama, noted misanthrope and permanently paranoid pestilence to all and sundry, agree to a fake-dating job?

This one apparently.

Look. Look. She's getting the drill by now. Apparently the only way to earn money in alternate universes was to spill blood or humiliate yourself. She cannot bring herself to do the first — has to restrain her other half from partaking, more like — and so has no option but to offer her loathsome body to whatever taker will have it.]

It's just an hour. J-just an hour. [Breathe in, breathe out. She checks her reflection in the café window and finds it just as lacking as at was thirty seconds ago. She pats her hair down (washed for once) and straightens her sweater (couldn't bear to show more skin than a stray ankle) and grouses.

Whoever it was wouldn't ditch, would they? They wouldn't get paid. Then again, one look at her is all it might take. Fukawa bites into her lip and catches it by the canine. A dreadful mistake. She tastes blood at once.]

Shit. [breatheinbreathout god oh god, okay. She jams a napkin at her mouth and wrenches her eyes shut. She might be better with blood than before, but she'll never stop hating it. Sight, smell, taste. All vile. All nauseating. No doubt she'll paint a fine first impression like this.

Where the fuck was this stupid bastard already?!]

[hikari's also questioning the decisions that led him to this, feeling distinctly less suited for this task even more so than his brief stint at playacting. still, if nothing else, it's important to have healing supplies on hand... even if they're not grapes...

for better or for worse, he puts on the first outfit he finds in his closet—not out of a lack of caring, per se, but more that he's never thought about his clothing in his life beyond "does it impede my movement? no? then it works." this has not changed for this event. (thankfully, he's somewhat saved by the fashion of "this" life inclining to slightly formal anyway, so it's not horribly out of place for a date.)

glancing around when he arrives, he tries to locate the other party. he perks up, just a little, when he sees her, as he heads on over. at the sight of blood, though, he quickens his steps.]

—Are you all right? Here, I believe I have a handkerchief...

[he starts rummaging through his bag.]

I'M NOT PROVOKING ANYTHING!!

[SHE IS THE VICTIM HERE!

Also she doesn't have time to be shocked by Roland's appearance. This is a dire situation. She makes another swat with a petulant wail and scrabbles to hands and knees, attempting to crawl behind him. Be her meatshield, noble monk.]

I H-HATE THIS PLACE! I HATE IT SO MUCH!

G-go aw—

[The snappish retort stops short. Her eyes widen as she blinks up at the man. The statuesque, silken-haired stranger, searching for a napkin to help her.

Pink blooms in her cheeks at once.]

O-oh! Well, I, hahaha, yes! [Dizzied nodding, faint breathing behind her hand.] A handkerchief w-would be helpful, haha...ha...

[That neck. Those eyes. Ah!!]

[This is a dire situation.

Accepting his place as her meatshield, he holds the drilbees at bay with the boutonniere in hand. Unfortunately, this mostly works for himself. The aggro Fukawa has built up remains at an all-time high, prompting the bees to look for ways around Roland, who turns accordingly to dissuade them.

It won't last. Taking care not to make sudden movements, he bends his knees and holds the boutonniere out to her.]

Take this in exchange for the net. It will reduce their aggression toward you.

[

wow, this poor girl. hikari's not much of an apothecary, but she's probably suffering from kind of ailment, given how red and dizzy she seems?

upon locating the handkerchief, he hands it over, though he still looks worried.]

Are you perhaps feeling ill? I can escort you back to your residence, if you need it. Or would you like for me to call for an apothe—ah, doctor?

[ Holy shit, is that money? Wolfwood's eyes immediately drop to the coins, trying to count them in his head while Punisher's price tag flashes in his mind's eye.

He considers dropping the doll, forgetting the bees, and just taking the money, but then it occurs to him that perhaps this is some kind of money-conjuring doll. And if not, couldn't he still sell a talking doll for money? Wouldn't that be worth one human-sized machine gun slash laser?

Slowly, he looks back at Pinocchio, staring him dead in the eye before he just

shakes him. ]

The hell are you supposed to be? You live 'round here?

[ ANYWAY SHAKES HIM FOR MONEY ]

[What a total gent.

Fukawa looks up to him with both arms shielding her head, peering through the spaces between. She makes a hasty grab for the boutonniere without hesitation.

That's when the bees find their opening.

She yelps as one stinger finds its target: the middle of her right forearm. Clean through the fabric of her ON world peasant blouse. Though she still nabs the flower the damage is done. Another buzzes close and she slaps it away with uncharacteristic dexterity.]

W-we should just run! [She hollers, trying to rock back to her knees while swatting away all bees who tread near.] Forget the stupid reward! It's not worth it!

No no no! Th-that's fine, I'm...I don't need a doctor...haha...

[Unless he is a doctor, then by all means please give her a check-up.

She takes the handkerchief with a brittle smile and dabs it at her lips. Gingerly. Perhaps even coquettishly. Not that she would dream of betraying Byakuya-sama (again) (without magic mistletoe involved), but she cannot fault herself for having eyes. He's perhaps a little short, but that is a singular flaw and not a truly detrimental one. Especially when he's being such a gentleman.

Oh god, and she's supposed to meet with some other schmuck instead? Kill her. Can't she just cancel and spend the hour with this man instead?]

I'm actually s-supposed to meet with someone. For a job sort of thing. Um. How about you? [Bright grin, still with the hankie dabbed to one side.] What b-brings you here today?

[Apart from FATE]

[What a disaster.

That is, his heart drops at her yelp. He only hopes the flower will prevent another sting—a prickly feeling that blooms along his own neck when a bee finds its way around his hood. He brushes the drilbee aside and clamps a hand down on the spot before nodding, keeping his head bowed.

Whatever they end up doing next, they won't do it in the midst of such angry bees. He moves his arm in an arc to part the swarm of drilbees gathering around Fukawa, which will hopefully draw their attention to him.]

Go! I'll hold the rear.

[The painted eyes widen and he flails even harder, faster, furiouser.]

WAAAH! I'M A—STOP! [Slap slap slap go his little wooden hands at the meaty arm holding him high.] NO I DON'T! GET THE FUCK OFF ME!

[More effectively, that sharp wooden foot kicks square at the man's ribs.]

[You don't need to tell her twice.

With an inelegant scream and even more graceless scramble, Fukawa clatters off like a blinded, one-winged albatross. The flower has some minor effect in waylaying the bees, though it's hard to tell when she's outpacing them in such a mad dash.

She doesn't stop until she's around a corner and ducked into an alley, away from foliage, leading back into the cobblestone and brick cityscape. She lets herself collapse against the wall there, heaving heavy, clutching her stung arm to her collar and wincing up at the sky. There's a heated fog overtaking her brain, and she can feel herself flushing hard from cheek to chest.

Is he going to follow? Did she just leave him to die from anaphylactic shock? Even if it's all a simulation, she damn well hopes not.]

[Fortunately, Roland is not allergic to bees. But he just might be the second time around. One can never say for sure.

What he does learn is that the aggression doesn't necessarily transfer. Fukawa leaves the scene, and the drilbees buzz in agitation, but neglect to chase Roland after he follows suit a handful of beats later. They do give him the parting gift of a second sting on the hand, though.

He jogs over to the corner, where he slows from a combination of watching out for Fukawa and a faint dizzy spell as he turns his head. Must be from all the excitement. He comes upon Fukawa before long, and he kneels beside her with a worried frown at the heavy flush of her cheeks.]

Are you all right, Fukawa?

[he still looks a little concerned, but if she insists that she doesn't need a doctor, then he'll let it slide...

with a slight headtilt,]

Ah—I'm here for similar reasons, actually. There is someone I'm to meet for a task, to act as... [awkwardly,] "ambassadors".

[Once the echoes of despondence fade into the void, Roland meets Fukawa at the library. He brings a tea tray with a word of appreciation for Dodo, whom he feels could use the thanks in these trying times of crumbling walls and furniture, though his smile is rueful as he pours a cup for Fukawa.]

It's chamomile. Apologies, but I ran out of its blue counterpart last month.

[If she's experienced the same things as he has since the world's troubles started again, she deserves to wake up feeling refreshed. Formally, they're here to discuss the matter of his memories as is customary, but he would rather see her in high than low spirits. Perhaps he'll revisit that quest and bring her a sachet before the week's end.]

How are you feeling?

[Funny how quick a devastating event wipes the board clear.

Fukawa might have been keen to avoid him after that humiliating excursion with the bees, save what little face she has left and hide under a rock forever. But given a few weeks and a wretched encounter with a snake-kaiju monstrosity, and all is forgiven. She unfurls testily from the shrimp-like crouch in her chair, reaching for the tea without so much as a thank you.]

F-forget about it. As long as it's hot I don't care wh-what you put in it. [Beggars can hardly be choosers. She's not like that pretentious bitch Celes, who'd thrown her tea against the wall and made Yamada brew it all over again. The gall of such a woman.]

How does it look like I'm feeling? [She throws him a pointed glare. Then winces as she sits back, a shriek of pain sounding along her ribs. The wounds they take online now leave knifish echoes offline. It's disturbing. She doesn't remember it being this bad before.] Anyone who'd come out of a mess like that w-with a smile on is a certified psychopath.

What about you?

Am I...

[She blinks. The shadow that had fallen over her failed to register until the man was level with her, on his knees. Her heart patters on a new beat, thrumming against her ribs with an urgent missive. Probably something like "Get me to a hospital."

Unfortunately, there's a tingle rippling over her skin that has other plans in mind.]

I'm...we-hell... [Her head knocks back against the wall, and she smiles up at him. Broadly, openly. Rather out of character, but excuse her as she counts the fine tips of those blond lashes. Such moody eyes.] Y-you're here now...Roland...

[When did her hand come to his cheek?]

What?!

[She drops the napkin. The bleeding has stopped, it's fine.]

Y-you don't mean the — are you supposed to b-be on a, um, a d-date?

[Slight pause.]

Too?

[Fuck, that's coming in way too late. Fukawa flounders in her seat.]

I-I — haha, yes! So am I!

[His lips turn down into a neutral part. What does that say about him, whose words tumble out as simply as the answer itself?]

I'm fine.

[Weary, but fine. The feeling is quite familiar. If he thinks about it that way, he feels more like his true self than he has in recent months. But that's not important.

He busies himself with pouring a second cup of tea, which he takes with him as he settles into his seat across hers. Fukawa isn't smiling, and Roland doesn't blame her for it. Was she injured much in the ON world? Was it really the ON world? And do the scars of her heart bleed still . . . ?]

If you wish to talk, I would listen.

[He would love to get her to a hospital. He would love to get her any help, but the thought flies out of his head through his ears when he feels the hand on his cheek (is she cold, or is he hot?) and sees her smile.

His hand reaches up to lay over hers in what he hopes is a comforting gesture. It seems his half-baked execution back there has affected her more profoundly than he expected, and he feels guilty for it.]

Yes. I'm sorry I let you go alone. [His apologetic gaze drifts down to her right forearm.] How is your arm?

[he blinks.]

Oh, yes. I believe that's what it was. [this "date" thing... like, technically hikari is aware of what a date is. does he actually know how to go on one in practice? no.] What a fortuitous coincidence. You wouldn't happen to know who your intended partner is, would you?

June Catch-All/Quest Log

may / quest

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ROLAND - infinite bees

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HIKARI - d-dating...uwu

uwu

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Post-snake fight

snuggles in here

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