acatalepsy_logs | need the sun to break

Entry tags:

need the sun to break

Who: mako, ota otherwise! please bring me your babies c:
Where: various places
When: throughout the sickness event, the last prompt can cover any time period in it as mako won't progress past the first stage.
Rating pg for now! will update if it changes. some mention of a lightning-based injury tho!
What: settling in and maybe trying to mother-hen other sick people who need it. please toss me a pm or hmu on discord (violynnist#8733!) if you would like something custom for you, or to try another situation/scenario also! This was my intro post on the CR meme as well if that's easier to poke at c:

𝐏𝐑𝐄-𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒;

𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐚;

( he's no stranger to the fey and fantastic. being friends with the avatar has meant years of encountering things that might have otherwise been beyond belief. he has a healthy threshold of tolerance for the scope and scale of strange than most people would probably expect of a no-nonsense cop.

his first thought is spirit wilds. even astoria herself sort of seems like one, though she looks human (he's heard stories of koh) and the misty phantasms that roam the temple grounds certainly don't disabuse that notion. mako is. quiet. taking it all in, listening, learning. he jots down notes, which is difficult to do when one arm is an out-of-commission ruin, strapped into a sling that pinions it to his body. he sort of rests the notepad in the hollow of his wrist, over the fabric of the sling and scribbles everything in police short-hand.

thrown into a new situation? doesn't know anyone or anything beyond astoria's welcoming spiel? time to wander the grounds of the temple. when he runs into other people, he'll approach them politely and introduce himself, )

I know it probably doesn't matter here, but I'm a Detective with the Republic City Police back home. My name's Mako. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if that's all right?

( he gestures with his notepad, obviously intending on writing things down. feel free to talk with him, refuse a statement, agree but only off the record, etc. he's a mostly-amicable (if. sometimes humorless) guy! )

𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐛;

( he can't feel the sun. it's there, visible, a low-hanging presence on the cusp of dawn. it's a slightly different color than the one he's used to, and he can feel its rays on his skin, but there's. nothing. no energy, no... deep, abiding warmth that sinks down into the bones and drags the life and breath of fire to life through the conduit of his physical body.

it lends further credence to the thought he must be in the spirit world, or something very like it. he finds his way to the fighting ring and, still with his left arm in its sling, he tries a few right-handed jabs at one of the training dummies. nothing. nothing. he's stayed calm through everything else, being recruited — kidnapped, essentially — to someone else's fight, the whole thing. but this? it reminds him too much of amon.

out of frustration, he kicks at the air, the sort of slicing motion that would have swept fire away from him in an arc. and.

to his complete and utter surprise, a column of rock juts up out of the earth and launches the dummy several yards away. mako, instinctively, turns to look for bolin or korra or even beifong, the earthbenders whose company he spends the most time in, but. he's alone.

except, perhaps, for your character. mako looks a little sheepish at having been caught unawares — he's usually a little harder to sneak up on, so he's rubbing the back of his neck as he asks, )

Did you do that?

𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐗𝐓𝐀'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒;

( he hates getting sick. firebenders are pretty hardy, all things considered. they tend to run hot. mako isn't used to feeling ill, it's only happened a couple times in memory, and. his default state is ignore all physical discomfort. he doesn't seem to be badly off, either, given what everyone else is going through.

so. a case of the sniffles. he sucks it up. pitches in around the kitchens, makes himself available to anyone who seems to be suffering. he even tries to go out into the forest of the fey to see if there is anything out there, some plant or herb that can be used as a remedy.

if your character needs some looking after during the event, mako's your guy. he will dutifully help total strangers, tuck people in, carry them off to a bed and help them through the loss of their senses should it come to that! let him big-brother you. it's the squishiest you'll ever see him. )

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[ Minato opens his mouth to answer, but nothing comes out. Not at first.

Succinct is what how he prefers his conversations too, but how is he supposed to describe the world in so few words? It's such an incredibly vast topic, with many things that he loves, many things that disappoint him, people, places, different sorts of food and languages and manners of dress.

What is the world like? ]

...I think the world is beautiful. [ is his answer in the end, possibly the most unhelpful sort of answer he could give. ] It's... it's home. I like it. [ He shakes his head. Something more helpful... ]

It's called Earth...?

[ Mako's from Earth, right? So he knows what Minato's world is like and he won't have to explain himself, is the hope here. ]

( 'earth' gets its place in the logbook, next to minato's name with a series of question marks. why would anyone name a planet earth? talk about unimaginative. but literally none of the rest of that was helpful, because a place being pretty doesn't tell him anything except that.

mako sighs inwardly, flips the pen around deftly in his fingers and then tucks the book away in a pocket of his uniform. probably won't be much good here. but it's. charming, in a way, that the boy's first thought for his home was the beauty in it. mako wouldn't be so kind to describe republic city. or any of the other places he's been. he sees the ugliness in things before the beauty is ever given a chance to shine through. the world is a dark place, corruption and crime linger like an infection. nature is beautiful. he's watched sunrises from the tops of buildings, and saw the wonders of all the world born in the bright dawnlit rays, but. you add humans to any equation, and sooner or later they'll make a ruin out of something good. )

Yeah? What about the town you grew up in?

[ With the topic narrowing in on his hometown, Minato can give more helpful answers, the faintest of smiles on his face and fondness in his quiet voice as he accounts for that city. ]

It's called Iwatodai. It's a pretty big city- a harbor city. It's noisy and crowded. Stray dogs bark all night. There's graffiti and litter everywhere. Homelessness. Assault. Murder. All over the news.

[ Honestly, not the best of places to live, and he could stand to paint the city in a better light like it deserves, but in all the time he's lived there... This is just how the city is. ]

...It's home, [ he repeats, ] I like it.

( well. that. actually just gets a bit of a huff out of him, something like laughter. beautiful. right. maybe he's just one of those people that can see the gleam of it beneath the grime. bo's like that. )

And, uh. ( a sort of awkward pause. ) Have you noticed yourself gaining any strange abilities since you arrived here?

[ It's a city that grew on him. Humanity in general had to grow on him, but after it did, it's hard to think of them any other way- both the beauty and the grit of life. But Minato looks somewhat pleased that his answer seemed satisfactory this time, not at all put off by the systematic way Mako moves on to the next question instead of delving more into each one.

Unfortunately, they'll have to start over with unhelpful responses again. ]

Hm... It's hard to tell. There was something weird, but I don't know if that was me, or just a property of the stuff here.

[ You know, physics of the world or whatever. Minato's watched enough movies to consider the world being the culprit, rather than just assuming everything's on him. ]

( he's uncovering a pattern in minato's interactions, that's for sure. he doesn't think the guy is vague on purpose, he's just... a dreamy sort of person. probably an airbender in another life, if he had to guess. )

Well, what's 'weird' for you?

( everyone has a different threshold for it. he remains undeterred. )

[ An airbender... he wouldn't be wrong.

Every question Mako poses gets careful consideration, the silence stretching until it's almost awkward before Minato opens his mouth, because things like puddles of blood and a green full moon was weird, but not weird enough to really care about, so again, it's a little hard to pinpoint a threshold.

He can at least elaborate on what he thought was weird, though, holding his hand out with his palm facing up, the middle finger of his right hand sporting a shallow cut that's since been cleaned and is no longer bleeding, but the edges of the cut are still pink and inflamed, suggesting a very recent injury. ]

I was picking up some broken bowls. I cut my hand when I touched them, and they turned into this.

[ With his hand still held aloft, he digs in his pants pockets with his other hand, and pulls out a small glass bead, deep red like fresh blood. ]

( he doesn't mind the silences and the deliberation, really. he's like that himself. he's always more suspicious of people who feel the need to stuff every moment of silence with something that isn't just... the thing itself. he's fine with waiting until minato has the words to articulate his meaning. when he does, though...

mako blinks down at the bead, that unmistakable coloration. you know what? valid. that is definitely weird. )

The blood, you mean. Was it instantaneous?

( does this kid just... bleed glasswork now? or was it something that happened after? )

[ He shakes his head at the assessment, although that was also what he'd initially thought when he saw the bead— he'd dropped it in surprise when it first appeared, watched it fall from his fingertips like a drop of blood made solid. But it's not his blood ...he doesn't think, anyways... because he can do this:

He puts the bead back in his pocket and with that hand squeezes either side of the cut finger, letting some fresh blood weep out. It doesn't turn solid, though, but rather it smears when he rubs his fingertips together, just like how any normal blood works. ]

The bowls were what disappeared. I think that's what the bead is.

Huh.

( okay, but enough of that. mako pulls out a handkerchief (because let's face it, he's a nerd, he has one) and holds it out to the kid to cover his finger. )

Okay, but let's not get an infection showing it off. You could've just told me.

[ Minato stares at the handkerchief for a second before reaching out to take it in his clean hand, but not without hesitation. He holds it, and... doesn't use it.

Not to be rude (although it is rude) but because if Mako has one of those, then... doesn't he use it to blow his nose... Can he trust this handkerchief, Mako? ]

Sorry. I thought showing you would be more believable than using words.

[ Words that aren't put together very well to begin with, let's face it. ]

( excuse you, minato. mako is a fussy, finicky boy whose days of gross street manners are well and truly behind him. of course it's clean, and probably pressed, and definitely monogrammed. it was a gift from asami, okay, don't judge! it's good silk! if mako notices the hesitance, he doesn't comment on it, just waves a hand. )

Trust me, my sense of disbelief is pretty much on a permanent leave of vacation these days.

( he shakes his head a bit. )

Come on, let's go find somewhere for you to clean that up.

[ What an unnecessarily fancy handkerchief. This is what Minato will be judging Mako on, not the presence or absence of snot. He's a little scared to get blood on something like this so he'll just... hand it back with a mumbled "thanks" and turn his heels towards the kitchen, where he knows there'll be running water and maybe dish soap. ]

...What about you? Anything weird to report on, or things you've found in your investigation so far?

( youths. but he takes it back anyway, tucks it back in a pocket. he follows after minato, mostly to make sure he actually looks after that cut. mako is a fussy mother hen at the best (worst) of times, okay. )

Not enough to deduce a pattern yet. Just... more questions.

( which always happens at this stage of an investigation. it doesn't mean he's giving up hope. far from it, it's the sort of meaty challenge he appreciates as a detective. he'll figure something out. )

[ Real men wipe their runny noses on their shirt sleeves, okay. ]

Guess it's too early to tell for anything... Nobody really knows anything except Astoria. And I guess the ghosts wandering around the place. Have you seen them?

[ The misty servant people. He'd taken to trailing after them from time to time, but they keep phasing through walls and he loses track of them. Perhaps they'll see one in the kitchen. ]

( but the coast is clear when they get to the kitchen, and mako goes to start some running water to rinse out that cut. it may be minor, but you can't be too careful with infections, especially in strange places. )

A few of them. Chatty sort, aren't they?

( which is entirely unhelpful, but hey. he gestures minato over to the sink once the water's a decent temp. excuse him while he big-bros at you, kid. )

[ Watch the sickness literally be in the water and this is why they're all dying.

Minato hums in his throat in response, because yeah, chatty. e.g. they refused to speak at all when Minato approached them, and he's not even sure they noticed he was there, with no eyes to make eye contact with or even a face to tell they've turned to look at him. It was a little frustrating, like trying to speak to a wall... He imagines it's what trying to communicate with him feels like sometimes.

He sticks his finger under the water just long enough to wash off the blood, idly wiping his hands on the sides of his pants to dry as he looks about the kitchen. It's disappointingly empty of ghosts, but there's a warmth that's hard to find anywhere else. ]

...I wonder what killed everybody here.

[ That the place seems abandoned, that there are so many 'ghosts' around. ]

( young man, you don't wash an injury and then dry it on your pants. mako is just. beside himself with exasperation. have you ever even met an adult in your life, minato.

he points him back to the sink. )

Try again. This time, dry it on something clean.

( look, there is a drawer full of clean linens right there. the youths are going to be the death of mako, who is twenty-two going on two hundred if he's a day.

also the connotation of ghost is a bit different than spirit, but not so much that he's confused by it all. )

I mean... they might not be ghosts, they could just be separate creatures who've always existed like that.

[ The last adult Minato sort of looked up to turned around and almost murdered him and his friends, so he'd rather stumble through life without one, thanks. Still, he follows orders without question, almost automatically, that rule in life that he lives by that tells him it's easier to just do things without a fuss. ]

Maybe. They wash the dishes and stuff, though. Make the beds. But they won't talk to me. [ He frowns, pulling his hand away from the faucet a second time and shaking his hands over the sink to flick the water off his fingers. What are linens? ]

If they've always done stuff like that, they must have had people to do that stuff for. I wonder what killed them.

[ There's beds! A kitchen! Where are all the dead bodies, he's sure there should be signs of migration or a cemetery or something. ]

( he's just. going to scream internally for a while. was this child raised by wolfbats???

also that is an incredibly macabre thought. it's so blunt, not 'i wonder what happened'. i wonder what killed them. the acceptance and expectation of violence done speaks a lot about who this kid is and where he's coming from. there are a thousand reasons that this place might have had living quarters set aside unused for centuries, but. to immediately assume some violent end? telling.

mako lifts his right shoulder in a shrug. his left is still anchoring the sling for his arm. )

Maybe nothing did. They might've packed up and left, or accomplished their goals. You can't exactly take a house with you.

( one of the reasons that he doesn't care to really own one. he's a street-kid at heart. the only important things are the ones you can carry. )

[ Minato shrugs both his shoulders, stuffing his dry, clean hands into his pockets. (It's fine, it's fine) ]

Oh... Maybe.

[ No, it makes a lot of sense, considering that if people died, they'd leave behind all sorts of personal evidence that people used to live here, and the halls are devoid of such things— photos, toys, things he can rationally associate with a settled down family life. An empty place like this, it'd make sense that it's because people picked up their lives and moved on, taking all they could with them.

It really hadn't occurred to him at all, because it's not like he's ever had things like photos or toys or other memorabilia to worry about when he moves. ]

I was thinking about people like us, who came with nothing more but the clothes on our backs. There wouldn't be any evidence left whether we move on or move away.

Probably not.

( he looks at him askance, and then gestures for him to sit in one of the kitchen chairs. while he's here, he may as well throw some food together. korra and bolin both need to eat, and he has his doubts about minato's ability to procure food for himself. given what mako knows of him so far it wouldn't surprise him to learn that he just scrounges out of a garbage bin. )

I mean, I guess there's no telling if we're the first people she's had here.

[ Minato looks at the chair, and hesitantly approaches it... bypasses it, and takes the long way around to stand by Mako's side instead, not close enough to be in the way, but enough that he can watch what he's doing. For somebody who lives off fast food— really little difference from a garbage bin, aside from the fact that he actually pays for his meals— he had little ability to cook, but he's always interested in watching. ]

...It'd make sense if we weren't. If I could bring people over from other places, I wouldn't bring a hundred people all at once. I'd try with one or two first, a dozen at most. Small groups are more manageable anyways.

( well. okay. mako makes room for him, and although he's note explicit about it, he does very slightly alter what he's doing so that minato can follow along easier. chops things slower, stirs a little less vigorously, that sort of thing. of course, the fact that he can only do it all one-handed helps, too.

it does make sense. that's what amon did. start small. a few benders here and there to incite fear. then he moved onto more and more people. then the avatar. it's a sound strategic tactic, even though he doesn't think astoria's intent is aligned with anything like that. he is wary of her — he's still upset at the loss of his firebending. he can't feel the sun in the sky any longer, except as... well, an obvious source of warmth and light. but it used to feel like something that could sink down into him, align itself with his breath and the beat of his heart. it felt like a solid, stable presence. he missed it at night when it sunk below the horizon, and was renewed with the dawn. now it's just. a sun. he almost misses that more than the bending itself.

the meddling is annoying enough. but mako doesn't trust anyone who'd take others from their home to fight some battle she hasn't even bothered to delineate yet. mako isn't a stranger to fighting for a cause. he's been alongside korra nearly every step of her journey, ready to die for what she believes in. but korra won his trust and his regard. astoria's just earned his annoyance. )

Well, she's certainly powerful. What did you think of her?

[ Seeing Mako with his arm in a sling, the polite thing to do would be to offer to help, huh. Would Mako trust Minato around knives? a stove? He doesn't offer, either way, presumably under the impression that Mako would say no, and while Minato is supposedly here to learn how to cook, he pays no attention Mako's hands; rather, it's his face- he meets his eyes but doesn't follow his gaze down to the ingredients being prepared, and instead watches Mako's expression as he cooks. Like he's looking for something, maybe, and it helps when Mako is focused on his work and isn't looking back. ]

I dunno anything about her to form an opinion. [ There's the whole... kidnapping thing... and also the stripping of powers that he noticed immediately and profoundly, along with the manifestation of a new power he isn't quite sure of. But Astoria as a person? He just doesn't know her enough to say anything. ]

I don't want to make a judgement before I get to hear things from her... If you decide to interrogate her, let me eavesdrop?

[ Instead of, you know. Participating in the conversation himself. ]

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