[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

[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."

[therewerefifty]

Yes, well. She flushes again, glancing away.

"I would hope you have no such problems in the future."

[snikting]

Logan snorted out a mean sort of laugh.

"I'd hope not, lady. Yer the first decent fight I've had at that bar since I pissed off the eight foot tall orc. What's the point in going to a bar if ya don't get to enjoy knockin' some heads around now and then?"

[therewerefifty]

Makie stared back at him with a look caught somewhere between surprise and guilt and a smile that nearly managed to make it onto her face. Ah. What indeed. "I would presume to drink, Mr Logan." But she'd found her footing a little more now, and she offered him a small bow. "Then perhaps one day we might fight on less... hostile terms." You know. Where neither of them are trying to take out the other's throat.

[snikting]

"Hm. Maybe." Less hostile terms took all the fun out of it. But hell, he'd take any good spar he could get. All the same, he felt the urge to keep moving. He turned to leave. "Speakin' of which, the booze is callin' my name."

[therewerefifty]

The conversation was over, then. Makie couldn't say she didn't feel any relief... though he seemed perfectly reasonable, she doesn't do too well with things like this.

Still, he reminded her a little of Manji. She wondered if that's why she made the offer. It wasn't exactly planned.

"Thank you for coming to see me. Enjoy your booze." She said it with a ghost of humour, but Makie turned herself and padded back to the tower.