Shū Tsukiyama (月山 習) | ɢᴏᴜʀᴍᴇᴛ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
preybeforemeals) wrote2014-09-22 04:09 am
preybeforemeals) wrote2014-09-22 04:09 am
Entry tags:
- !ic,
- *action,
- *video,
- @dist the rose,
- @emmy altava,
- @greed,
- @kayneth archibald el-melloi,
- @meridiana everett,
- @naki,
- @rin okumura,
- and so no one should criticize me,
- bananamom now is not the time,
- ganbatte tsukiyama-san,
- gentleman of wealth and taste,
- he deserves every bit of this,
- he is so mad,
- his goddamn life right now,
- i don't think you tried at all,
- jfc he's an eyesore,
- look at all this manpain,
- next pokemon master right here,
- so chipper he's gonna die,
- someone stop him,
- surely this bodes well,
- this is going swimmingly,
- this is gonna go immediately tits-up,
- tsukiyama no,
- vague questions are the best questions,
- why is this a thing,
- winning
001. [Action for New Bark/Video]
[ACTION]
[It would be very, very easy to have some sort of meltdown over this.
Really, if anything he'd think it would be warranted; he's not supposed to be here, he has no clue who this woman was earlier but she most definitely is not his mother, and the fact that she'd responded to his questioning by trying to sit him down and make him lunch (which he had immediately refused, but he had accepted the coffee, and she made startlingly good coffee) had done exactly nothing to assuage the sense that something is horrifically wrong here. However, it seemed that the field in which Mom grows her fucks is utterly barren, and he'd ended up locked outside before too long.
At least she'd let him keep the coffee.
So there was that, and there had been a brief moment of rage at the door before he'd settled himself, running his free hand back through his hair and muttering something under his breath; come on, Tsukiyama, you've handled worse than this. Calm down. Don't react to it. Be cool.
The rest of the day had been given to the locals; they were surprisingly helpful if you asked the right questions, even if what they'd told him had been completely inane. They seemed rather interested in assisting him in preparing for this...journey he was supposed to be on, even if no one really knew why he was supposed to be on it; asking about that had just gotten a lot of "well, that's just what we do."
It seemed this place was a little backwards.
So. Panicking was going to get him nowhere, this journey would presumably get him...somewhere, logically there was really only one thing to do with that knowledge.
Late afternoon would find him sitting on a low wall outside of one of the incredibly few buildings in town; he's got the bag he'd received from Mom sitting at his feet, and he has the Trainer Handbook out across his lap. He's a bit hard to miss given his, uh, attire, but he seems to have pulled a pen from somewhere and he's apparently contenting himself with making notes in the margins of that book he's going through.
Sure, he's gripping that pen a bit too hard and those notes are getting downright ugly with the force with which he's writing them, but he's perfectly fine, thank you very much. One of the few respectable people to arrive today, from the look of it. Totally calm. Completely calm. He's fine.
...yeahno he's wound tightly enough to jump approximately half a mile if he's approached, but at least he's putting an effort in.]
[VIDEO]
[Some time that evening, however, he actually finds the general coherency required to address the network; it takes him a while to work out whether he really wants to attach his physical appearance to the message - old habits die hard, after all, and he runs in several societal circles where keeping your appearance to yourself is literally a matter of whether you're fond of staying alive or not - but after a while...well, if there's someone else here that he actually wants to know about, this would probably be the fastest way to get their attention. So. Video it is.]
Ah, hello there! It's a pleasure to meet you all, even if it's not in person - it seems that several of us are in the same...distressing situation. I mean, the locals don't seem very fazed by it, they were very kind to me, but I still found it a bit unsettling that they don't seem bothered by what looks like a mass kidnapping to me. Am I to understand that this is just a misunderstanding, or...?
[...]
...But we don't have to discuss that if you don't want to! I'd just like to hear a bit more about the other people who have found themselves here. It's been a very long day, you see, and I'd like having someone to talk to; I'd ask if any of my friends are here, but I'm positive they would have contacted me already if they were.
[ugh, he can only handle doing so much more of this chirpy bullshit before he makes himself positively sick; normally it's not a problem at all, but given the circumstances he is really not here for this today -
He glances offscreen somewhere before he continues speaking; he doesn't seem to be focusing on anything in particular, it seems he's just trying to find something to look at.]
So tell me about yourselves, if you don't mind! Where you came from, what sorts of things you can do there. I've heard that some people have gone through some charming transformations lately...is that something we're supposed to blindly accept as well...?
I've heard some interesting stories, and read many more; this place is almost like a storybook itself, really. But it's just poor writing to expect this much suspension of disbelief from one's audience, captive or not.
[It would be very, very easy to have some sort of meltdown over this.
Really, if anything he'd think it would be warranted; he's not supposed to be here, he has no clue who this woman was earlier but she most definitely is not his mother, and the fact that she'd responded to his questioning by trying to sit him down and make him lunch (which he had immediately refused, but he had accepted the coffee, and she made startlingly good coffee) had done exactly nothing to assuage the sense that something is horrifically wrong here. However, it seemed that the field in which Mom grows her fucks is utterly barren, and he'd ended up locked outside before too long.
At least she'd let him keep the coffee.
So there was that, and there had been a brief moment of rage at the door before he'd settled himself, running his free hand back through his hair and muttering something under his breath; come on, Tsukiyama, you've handled worse than this. Calm down. Don't react to it. Be cool.
The rest of the day had been given to the locals; they were surprisingly helpful if you asked the right questions, even if what they'd told him had been completely inane. They seemed rather interested in assisting him in preparing for this...journey he was supposed to be on, even if no one really knew why he was supposed to be on it; asking about that had just gotten a lot of "well, that's just what we do."
It seemed this place was a little backwards.
So. Panicking was going to get him nowhere, this journey would presumably get him...somewhere, logically there was really only one thing to do with that knowledge.
Late afternoon would find him sitting on a low wall outside of one of the incredibly few buildings in town; he's got the bag he'd received from Mom sitting at his feet, and he has the Trainer Handbook out across his lap. He's a bit hard to miss given his, uh, attire, but he seems to have pulled a pen from somewhere and he's apparently contenting himself with making notes in the margins of that book he's going through.
Sure, he's gripping that pen a bit too hard and those notes are getting downright ugly with the force with which he's writing them, but he's perfectly fine, thank you very much. One of the few respectable people to arrive today, from the look of it. Totally calm. Completely calm. He's fine.
...yeahno he's wound tightly enough to jump approximately half a mile if he's approached, but at least he's putting an effort in.]
[VIDEO]
[Some time that evening, however, he actually finds the general coherency required to address the network; it takes him a while to work out whether he really wants to attach his physical appearance to the message - old habits die hard, after all, and he runs in several societal circles where keeping your appearance to yourself is literally a matter of whether you're fond of staying alive or not - but after a while...well, if there's someone else here that he actually wants to know about, this would probably be the fastest way to get their attention. So. Video it is.]
Ah, hello there! It's a pleasure to meet you all, even if it's not in person - it seems that several of us are in the same...distressing situation. I mean, the locals don't seem very fazed by it, they were very kind to me, but I still found it a bit unsettling that they don't seem bothered by what looks like a mass kidnapping to me. Am I to understand that this is just a misunderstanding, or...?
[...]
...But we don't have to discuss that if you don't want to! I'd just like to hear a bit more about the other people who have found themselves here. It's been a very long day, you see, and I'd like having someone to talk to; I'd ask if any of my friends are here, but I'm positive they would have contacted me already if they were.
[ugh, he can only handle doing so much more of this chirpy bullshit before he makes himself positively sick; normally it's not a problem at all, but given the circumstances he is really not here for this today -
He glances offscreen somewhere before he continues speaking; he doesn't seem to be focusing on anything in particular, it seems he's just trying to find something to look at.]
So tell me about yourselves, if you don't mind! Where you came from, what sorts of things you can do there. I've heard that some people have gone through some charming transformations lately...is that something we're supposed to blindly accept as well...?
I've heard some interesting stories, and read many more; this place is almost like a storybook itself, really. But it's just poor writing to expect this much suspension of disbelief from one's audience, captive or not.
no subject
I don't recall seeing this in there. Perhaps it fell out?
[...]
It can't be yours, I suppose, it was there before you ran up.
no subject
This one is mine, actually.
[He glances rather pointedly at the bananasaur once that's out there.]
Which implies that if I'm not mistaken, that is yours.
no subject
[...Well, that would explain the...friendliness...
...except that the logic is gradually working itself out right now and if the little capsule is somehow tied to the creature, and the creature was not there but suddenly was there as the result of the little ball...
Surely he's not suggesting something that big came out of such a little ball, it's outright absurd.]
I don't understand. You can't mean this little ball... —well, what happens when yours opens?
no subject
no subject
You make it sound as though it's something awful.
[Like seriously, what is it, a nine-foot snake?]
no subject
no subject
[She hesitates a moment, as a flicker of uncertainty crosses her face.]
I...hope you'll accept my apology, for what I said a few minutes ago. It was kind of you to help me, and I never properly thanked you for that, either.
I'm very sorry. I'm not sure what's happened, but I don't think I'm where I ought to be at all.
no subject
But after a moment he just shrugs, and he's smiling again as usual, and everything is perfectly fine.]
You aren't the only one - perhaps a bit of irrationality on everyone's part is to be expected, since I'm not from around here either.
Shuu Tsukiyama, by the way. It's a pleasure.
no subject
[Please take pity on her, she is used to pronouncing surnames like "Hardwick" and "Rotterdale", this one is a little beyond her and the last thing she wants is to just stumble her way through every phoneme like a rube.]
Mr. Tsukiyama.
[Her effort was Herculean and mostly correct. SHE TRIED.]
I am Miss Meridiana Everett. I hope it would not be too forward to presume that you are not...from London?
no subject
You're the second person to ask me that today, actually - but no, no, I'm from Tokyo.
A good distance from London, to put it gently.
no subject
Tokyo is the city where the Emperor resides, is it not? The capital of Japan. It is a goodly distance from London, indeed, but souvenirs do sometimes make the long travel back to the city, and they're quite in fashion.
no subject
[...Do you just...not get out much, or...
...
Given everything that's happened today, he's just going to assume she doesn't get out much.]
no subject
[That's polite enough, surely.
But then, a minute later, something occurs to her.]
But you must be quite well-traveled, otherwise; you called me mademoiselle earlier.
no subject
Not so much well-traveled as well-read; I'm currently attending university, and I spend a lot of time reading in my spare time. Languages appeal to me, always have; they have a definite charm to them that I've enjoy indulging in.
no subject
[LIKE A WELL-BRED GIRL SHOULD etc.]
Your English is also quite excellent, if I might be so bold.
no subject
...that's how you're hearing it?
no subject
[...????]
no subject
no subject
no subject
[...]
I've been told that there are many things that we shouldn't think about too hard, regarding this place. I believe we've stumbled across one of them.
no subject
[Yeah, not thinking too hard about it is...probably a good thing.]
...I suppose the manner by which such a great creature can be fit into such a tiny ball is another of those things.