[Action/Written/Accidental Audio]

[therewerefifty]

[The day she spends like most, in her usual haunts; she works at Seventh Heaven, she trains deep in the forest. She finds time for a cup of tea in there somewhere. Makie keeps wrapped up more than usual; she's felt a little off, lately, so in case of oncoming summer colds she tries to take care of herself.

She looks for a man. (A particular one, hush.) Still can't find him.

She finally gathers her courage and returns to the smithy to see if someone can repair her weapon. Hopefully she'll see that boy again; he already knows. And if not, she'll just weather any awkwardness. Makie's slowly coming to the realisation that here in this village, it doesn't really matter, but old habits die hard.

When she finally returns home in the evening, she makes a cautious post to the network. She doesn't want to leave this any longer.

...does she really just need to write into the book? Well, then.]

[Written]

I'm looking for a gentleman I met during the time that... Twila arrived in Luceti. Sir, I never caught your name, but I would like to talk to you, if I may. I was the woman with the shamisen that [...uh.] spoke to you from the rooftops in the plaza.

[...this is awkward. She stops there.

Whatever responses she might get, Makie fails to close the journal when she's done. Which doesn't altogether mean that much given there's dead silence for some hours afterward, as she just curls up with a book to read. It's punctuated maybe once by a fit of coughing.

It's only when it reaches about 9.30 that evening that a few stray experimental notes of her shamisen can be heard. And then Makie starts playing.  Sorry, any early sleepers. At least it's likely she won't be playing for long. >>;; Learning journal etiquette the hard way.]

Comments

[snikting]

Logan, professional stalker, simply nodded in response. He gave no response, just turned and went to wait by the lamp post by the street, well within sight. After their last meeting, it was better for all parties involved to have this discussion well within sight. While he waited, he lit up a cigar.

[therewerefifty]

She only retreats long inside to put her cup of tea down on the table and inform Saori she's going out, and then Makie returns, slipping out the door and closing it quietly behind her. For once, though Logan won't know the discrepancy, she leaves the shamisen behind.

He's easy to pick out immediately, and Makie steps in under the lamplight, wrapping the shawl closely around her shoulders.

"Thank you for coming to see me, sir." Her voice is very quiet, fingers fidgeting with the edge of her shawl. "I'm... I wanted to apologise."

[snikting]

Logan had since set himself against the lamp post, leaning up against it with one leg bent to rest his foot against it. He didn't move when she approached. The effect of his position and the cowboy hat he wore managed to conceal his face entirely, save for the dim glow created by his cigar's embers. It was an entirely unintentional combination of factors that made him appear more mysterious than he really intended.

"... pardon? You want to apologize?"

[therewerefifty]

The inflection gives her pause for a moment-- it hadn't occurred to her he might feel the same. Nevertheless, it doesn't negate her own culpability.

"I tried my best to kill you." Whether she had any chance of success is moot. "And we'd never met. I had no quarrel with you at all. I know things were... strange that week, but that's no excuse."

[snikting]

"I was doin' a fine job of trying to kill you first. Tryin' to kill me back is perfectly reasonable."

[therewerefifty]

Makie inclines her head to acknowledge that point, her hands folding lightly across her stomach. The wound is healed, now. No harm done.

"Nevertheless, I... could have just left. I knew that. I think..." She trails off. She knows it takes two to fight. It's not entirely what she wants to say, this apology. "I am not one for picking fights, sir. I thought it important to tell you I have no intention of crossing weapons with you again."

[snikting]

"... seein' as I demolished yer weapon, I can understand why. But ya ain't got any reason to apologize. Those spirits were messin' with our heads."

Logan had been under such persuasions before. As much as it pissed him off, he did better to just not think about it.

[therewerefifty]

There was a ghost of humour in her expression at his comment on her weapon and Makie relaxed just a little. "I know they were. But I suppose I just wanted to make that clear. I didn't even ask your name at the time." She hesitated. "I'll ask it now, if I may. My name is Makie Otono-Tachibana."

[snikting]

"Logan." He said nothing for a moment, giving her a once over. He could tell, by her stance, she wasn't in terrible shape after their battle. That was some small comfort. "Those were some impressive moves you had there."

[therewerefifty]

"...thank you." Her eyes flicked to his hands, but Makie was too polite to ask the curious question. Instead, she shifted and glanced down at her folded arms. "I've... not heard that often." A few times now in Luceti, though. She was growing more accustomed to it.

[snikting]

It was odd that she seemed almost ashamed of her skill. Maybe it was something else. Regardless, he found himself curious. "... yeah? They end up too dead to compliment them?"

[therewerefifty]

The comment struck a nerve, and for a moment she almost laughed at the black humour she can perceive in that statement. Something like that. Instead, she offered an explanation. Or part of one. "My world has no place for a woman with my skill."

[snikting]

"That ain't such a bad thing. My world's got too many uses for a man of mine." Until the X-Men, he hadn't found many he could rightly say he cared much for.

[therewerefifty]

She smiles without humour, though there's also a touch of understanding. "Too many uses in my world, also. There are many whose lives are defined by the sword. But... a woman's place lies elsewhere."

[snikting]

"Hm. Not surprising." He'd lived long enough to see society change. But he knew what it was like in another era. "Ain't so much the case here. When the time comes, the Mallies won't much care what kinda plumbing you have."

[therewerefifty]

The look she gave him was disconcerted. Plumbing? It took a few moments to connect the dots, given the context of his comment, and she flushed slightly. "So I have heard. And I have met many women who aren't from my world, here."

Nobody gave a damn here that she could fight. It was relaxing, in a way.

[snikting]

"Hm. So how'd ya learn all that?" She'd made it clear women from her era didn't practice the blade like that. It made it all the odder that she would be able to use a sword, much less be so proficient at it.

[therewerefifty]

She answered honestly. "Initially my father and brother taught me when I was very young." It's all right for little girls to play at swords, and samurai wives are often trained in defence. It's just not all right when they surpass the men that teach them. "I've trained myself since I was ten."

[snikting]

"It shows. I'd have been a dead man if I wasn't so good at healing."

He'd been sloppy, which was what bothered him the most. It had been too long since he fought a truly skilled opponent like this. It was clear he needed to refine his technique.

[therewerefifty]

"I'm glad you were." But with answering his own question, she dares her curiosity.

"I've met a man like you before. He was immortal. Are you the same?"

[snikting]

"Ain't yet lived long enough to know. Either I am or I'm just hard to kill. Eventually somebody'll figure it out."

[therewerefifty]

That was odd. "You...don't know what caused it? Or does everyone heal as fast as you where you're from?"

[snikting]

"No, I'm one of a kind. Folk like me are called mutants, but I ain't met another who heals like I do." Well, he had. One person. But he was almost certain clones didn't count in that regard.

[therewerefifty]

Someone special, then. She assumes the claws are part of that. "It's a useful gift to have."

[snikting]

"Sometimes. Ya never know when yer gonna get shanked walking into a bar. Usually you gotta wait to get inside before that happens."