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How are you feeling?
If you'd like some, I made tea.
If you'd like some, I made tea.
Sabriel-san. ( he isn't one for hellos, so that passes as the greeting he doesn't say. ) I'm well.
( he's... not. but he is practiced enough at hiding the symptoms of his illness that the lie comes easily. )
I would be pleased to join you for tea.
( he's... not. but he is practiced enough at hiding the symptoms of his illness that the lie comes easily. )
I would be pleased to join you for tea.
Itachi, this is Dr. McCoy, I have your serum synthesized and ready to go.
[ he lost track of time playing shogi again, a pattern that has sprung up as the direct result of an open schedule.
without any missions or urgent tasks to perform, shikamaru has fallen into a languid routine aboard the ximilian. to say that he is content with the current lull in activity would be a lie; he didn't come here to relax, after all. but given the recent events in his life, he is no longer going to let it bother him.
besides, he isn't completely at ease here either. how can he be when he roams the same halls as uchiha itachi?
they haven't exchanged words since their last conversation (if you could really call it a conversation). he assumes that itachi has just about as much interest in interacting with him as he does with him, which is to say, not a whole lot. shikamaru hasn't been actively avoiding him, but he hasn't exactly been, well— neighborly either.
so, there is a hint of what can only be described as mild exasperation when he steps foot into the kitchen and finds him already there. this is going to be troublesome, isn't it? they have yet to be alone in the same space together, so he can't help his mind instantly mapping out at least a dozen different directions this can go. ]
Itachi. [ he never meets his eyes, his gaze flickering between the tea brewing in a pot and somewhere below his chin. ]
without any missions or urgent tasks to perform, shikamaru has fallen into a languid routine aboard the ximilian. to say that he is content with the current lull in activity would be a lie; he didn't come here to relax, after all. but given the recent events in his life, he is no longer going to let it bother him.
besides, he isn't completely at ease here either. how can he be when he roams the same halls as uchiha itachi?
they haven't exchanged words since their last conversation (if you could really call it a conversation). he assumes that itachi has just about as much interest in interacting with him as he does with him, which is to say, not a whole lot. shikamaru hasn't been actively avoiding him, but he hasn't exactly been, well— neighborly either.
so, there is a hint of what can only be described as mild exasperation when he steps foot into the kitchen and finds him already there. this is going to be troublesome, isn't it? they have yet to be alone in the same space together, so he can't help his mind instantly mapping out at least a dozen different directions this can go. ]
Itachi. [ he never meets his eyes, his gaze flickering between the tea brewing in a pot and somewhere below his chin. ]
（ he keeps to a rigid schedule. with neither sun nor stars by which to gauge time, he instead relies on the artificial means available on the station. he rises each morning at 0300, when the station is largely quiet and most of its denizens asleep or otherwise occupied, and makes breakfast for himself before spending several hours in the training room. generally, in these times, he is left alone.
as his vision has deteriorated, he has adapted. there are other ways to tell when someone approaches. shikamaru is too quiet and light on his feet to hear in the silicon-soled shoes of a shinobi, but one learns to listen for the way a body becomes dead space in the air, disrupting its natural flow.
he's aware of shikamaru a moment before he steps into the kitchen, and simply tilts his head towards him in acknowledgement. he is making tea, and there is tamago gayu simmering on the stove. he is, admittedly, not much for cooking, but he stood at his mother's elbow often enough to be able to replicate her recipes to the letter rather than the spirit. it does not often taste like he remembers it, but perhaps that is something of the sheen of childhood gilding all those things he cannot know again.
without a word, he pours a second cup of tea for shikamaru and sets it on the raised countertop nearby. an unspoken invitation. ）
as his vision has deteriorated, he has adapted. there are other ways to tell when someone approaches. shikamaru is too quiet and light on his feet to hear in the silicon-soled shoes of a shinobi, but one learns to listen for the way a body becomes dead space in the air, disrupting its natural flow.
he's aware of shikamaru a moment before he steps into the kitchen, and simply tilts his head towards him in acknowledgement. he is making tea, and there is tamago gayu simmering on the stove. he is, admittedly, not much for cooking, but he stood at his mother's elbow often enough to be able to replicate her recipes to the letter rather than the spirit. it does not often taste like he remembers it, but perhaps that is something of the sheen of childhood gilding all those things he cannot know again.
without a word, he pours a second cup of tea for shikamaru and sets it on the raised countertop nearby. an unspoken invitation. ）
[Sabriel's gift for Itachi arrives outside his door, wrapped in dark blue paper and tied with a silver ribbon.
Inside is a container of loose-leaf sencha tea, and several bottles of nail polish- black, of course, but also an assortment of dark hues, like an ink-stained rainbow, and one bottle of red nail polish that just about matches the color of Itachi's eyes.
There is also a small bag of yuzu fruit.]
Inside is a container of loose-leaf sencha tea, and several bottles of nail polish- black, of course, but also an assortment of dark hues, like an ink-stained rainbow, and one bottle of red nail polish that just about matches the color of Itachi's eyes.
There is also a small bag of yuzu fruit.]
（ the gift is... mindful, and there is certainly no mistaking its origin. the blue and silver is strongly representative of sabriel's colours, and the particularity of the contents are things he has discussed with no one else.
he does not quite know what to say — he has not needed to express gratitude in a very long time, and is rather out of the habit. the box sits, its contents untouched on his bedside table for several days. the smell of citrus and sencha hangs in the air with a familiarity that makes him ache for a place that is no longer his home.
the fruit he savours, pulling one apart piece by piece. it's too far past solstice to trouble himself about bathing — and anyway, the shower cubicles are hardly built for it. the tea he saves. the nail polish... he will trouble himself about that once the coat yelena painted on his nails has begun to chip and flake.
nearer the new year, she gets a small, handwritten note. it's in hiragana save her name, which is done in katakana to capture the transliteration of the foreign sounds. the entire message is written in exactingly precise calligraphy that is almost too perfect to be called art.
サブリエルさん
お心のこもったお品をありがとうございます
the translation may not quite capture the nuance implied — but it does convey, at least, the gratitude. ）
he does not quite know what to say — he has not needed to express gratitude in a very long time, and is rather out of the habit. the box sits, its contents untouched on his bedside table for several days. the smell of citrus and sencha hangs in the air with a familiarity that makes him ache for a place that is no longer his home.
the fruit he savours, pulling one apart piece by piece. it's too far past solstice to trouble himself about bathing — and anyway, the shower cubicles are hardly built for it. the tea he saves. the nail polish... he will trouble himself about that once the coat yelena painted on his nails has begun to chip and flake.
nearer the new year, she gets a small, handwritten note. it's in hiragana save her name, which is done in katakana to capture the transliteration of the foreign sounds. the entire message is written in exactingly precise calligraphy that is almost too perfect to be called art.
サブリエルさん
お心のこもったお品をありがとうございます
the translation may not quite capture the nuance implied — but it does convey, at least, the gratitude. ）
It was pleasant overall.
[it's a post-holiday chat on that windowsill of reflection with the great, black maw of space in frame at their sides.]
And...peculiar. So many seemed to share similar understandings of the traditions, despite...being from different universes.
It makes me wonder...how similar the Earth is...in all those places. If that is a common thread...
[it's a post-holiday chat on that windowsill of reflection with the great, black maw of space in frame at their sides.]
And...peculiar. So many seemed to share similar understandings of the traditions, despite...being from different universes.
It makes me wonder...how similar the Earth is...in all those places. If that is a common thread...
（ his nails glitter with a fresh coat of dark paint, the smell of acetone and toluene lingering despite his best efforts to remove it. he is used to there being little scent to his clothing, and he uses nothing to leave one in his hair. anything that gives you away — bright colors, loud sounds, odors no matter how pleasant — is an advantage you've handed your enemy.
he hopes it will fade with time.
for now, he is simply sitting with one knee drawn up, elbow resting atop it, hand angled downward. he's still wearing his ring with its emblazoned kanji the strident black of the chakra receivers — crimson. ）
There are bound to be many more worlds in the universe with many more creatures that resemble us less than we resemble each other. That this place has mostly drawn in humans, or human-adjacent beings is somewhat worrisome, and would be so even if Earth was not an odd commonality between them.
he hopes it will fade with time.
for now, he is simply sitting with one knee drawn up, elbow resting atop it, hand angled downward. he's still wearing his ring with its emblazoned kanji the strident black of the chakra receivers — crimson. ）
There are bound to be many more worlds in the universe with many more creatures that resemble us less than we resemble each other. That this place has mostly drawn in humans, or human-adjacent beings is somewhat worrisome, and would be so even if Earth was not an odd commonality between them.
[In the early hours of the 25th, there's a soft knock at his door. Clara knows he'll be awake. She leaves a small wrapped gift for him there outside his door, hurrying off so he won't see her.
Inside the box is a handful of sweets Clara made herself, and a hand painted teacup. Pressed inside the teacup is Clara's current favorite tea, pulled from her personal stash she keeps hidden away.
There's also a single chess piece. The white bishop. Below everything, there's a simple note.
Thought you could do with something sweet and a bit of my favorite tea. There's also an open invitation for you to join me for tea and chess whenever you like. If you've never played before, you're in for a treat.
- Clara
Inside the box is a handful of sweets Clara made herself, and a hand painted teacup. Pressed inside the teacup is Clara's current favorite tea, pulled from her personal stash she keeps hidden away.
There's also a single chess piece. The white bishop. Below everything, there's a simple note.
Thought you could do with something sweet and a bit of my favorite tea. There's also an open invitation for you to join me for tea and chess whenever you like. If you've never played before, you're in for a treat.
- Clara
（ he does not respond for several days. he is... unaccustomed to receiving gifts, and does not quite have the emotional fortitude to accept them readily — his instinct is to politely return them, and he recognizes that is something best fought among these people, who will likely insist.
the tea is useful, and he adds it to his own supply, currently consisting of sencha from sabriel, kocha of his own request and this new blend from clara. it is odd to be amassing so much of it that it feels like this little room with its four square walls could resemble something of a home. the sweets are... savoured.
the cup is studied in detail. he runs his fingers over the barely perceptible edges of the paint on delicate porcelain. she seems to have favoured reds in her design — a sweetly bitter irony.
but it is the bishop that is perhaps the most surprising. he has studied the rules of chess but has never played — though he is quite familiar with shogi. he and kisame would sometimes idly pass away unhurried days with games in old parlours, though his partner tended to perhaps be a little heavy-handed on the attack. itachi won most of their games, but not all. however, since he was a boy he has always found such games to be an agreeable way to pass the time, and he was curious and intrigued by the promise of a new set of stratagems to master.
perhaps that is why he responds to her a few days later — not via text, but with a handwritten note. her earpiece should be able to translate his incredibly precise katakana and hiragana: ）
クララさん
祝ってくださるお気持ちだけで十分です
（ and then, in unerringly faultless english: ）
I would be honoured to be your opponent in a game of chess. Please state a time and place you wish to play.
（ when you have magic ninja eyes that give you perfect recall, it turns out that learning how to write in another language is perhaps too easy. ）
the tea is useful, and he adds it to his own supply, currently consisting of sencha from sabriel, kocha of his own request and this new blend from clara. it is odd to be amassing so much of it that it feels like this little room with its four square walls could resemble something of a home. the sweets are... savoured.
the cup is studied in detail. he runs his fingers over the barely perceptible edges of the paint on delicate porcelain. she seems to have favoured reds in her design — a sweetly bitter irony.
but it is the bishop that is perhaps the most surprising. he has studied the rules of chess but has never played — though he is quite familiar with shogi. he and kisame would sometimes idly pass away unhurried days with games in old parlours, though his partner tended to perhaps be a little heavy-handed on the attack. itachi won most of their games, but not all. however, since he was a boy he has always found such games to be an agreeable way to pass the time, and he was curious and intrigued by the promise of a new set of stratagems to master.
perhaps that is why he responds to her a few days later — not via text, but with a handwritten note. her earpiece should be able to translate his incredibly precise katakana and hiragana: ）
クララさん
祝ってくださるお気持ちだけで十分です
（ and then, in unerringly faultless english: ）
I would be honoured to be your opponent in a game of chess. Please state a time and place you wish to play.
（ when you have magic ninja eyes that give you perfect recall, it turns out that learning how to write in another language is perhaps too easy. ）
[At some point around Christmas, a simple box appears outside Itachi's door. It is not wrapped in festive paper, nor is there any attached card or note.
Perhaps the only evidence of who left it behind is circumstantial, then. Inside is a package of dango, along with a recipe for how to make them, handwritten in Japanese. The one nod to the current holiday save the timing is the last line of text on the page: メリークリスマス
But then, the station was able to generate personalized gifts as well, wasn't it? So maybe it means nothing, after all.]
Perhaps the only evidence of who left it behind is circumstantial, then. Inside is a package of dango, along with a recipe for how to make them, handwritten in Japanese. The one nod to the current holiday save the timing is the last line of text on the page: メリークリスマス
But then, the station was able to generate personalized gifts as well, wasn't it? So maybe it means nothing, after all.]
Edited 2021-12-21 09:18 (UTC)
[On Christmas Eve Yelena leaves a gift for Itachi at his door. Inside his box he will find a strange looking plush with a note attached. It reads, simply: This is what a blobfish looks like.
At the bottom of the box is also a small tin of a Russian Caravan tea blend.]
At the bottom of the box is also a small tin of a Russian Caravan tea blend.]
[ A small package wrapped in black and silver appears at Itachi's door on Christmas Eve. Inside there's an assortment of homemade cookies and a Christmas card with a little hand draw Star on it. ]
（ he recognizes that delicate knock, cocks his head to one side and then: ）
Enter.
（ itachi is dressed for the evening in soft, loose clothing, a shirt that's a little too big and slips down one shoulder, its sleeve cuffs eclipsing most of his hands. he's recently come from a shower, skin still flushed with the heat, damp hair halfway combed — clearly interrupted by blue's arrival. he sits agura on the bed, gesturing for blue to help himself to a chair. ）
Enter.
（ itachi is dressed for the evening in soft, loose clothing, a shirt that's a little too big and slips down one shoulder, its sleeve cuffs eclipsing most of his hands. he's recently come from a shower, skin still flushed with the heat, damp hair halfway combed — clearly interrupted by blue's arrival. he sits agura on the bed, gesturing for blue to help himself to a chair. ）
I've been wondering- have you read the reports on the two missions prior to Kilnan?
During the Braccia mission, we had to come up with cover stories to explain our presence and- I suspect we will need to do so again. I'm not sure how often we'll encounter worlds where everyone's asleep like Kilnan or are willing to believe visions Viveca sends that promise we're there to save them like in Gyeonje, but I doubt it will be often.
During the Braccia mission, we had to come up with cover stories to explain our presence and- I suspect we will need to do so again. I'm not sure how often we'll encounter worlds where everyone's asleep like Kilnan or are willing to believe visions Viveca sends that promise we're there to save them like in Gyeonje, but I doubt it will be often.
[Yelena likes to check out the shops and stores on missions, assuming the mission is one that has shops and stores. This one does, so once she’s settled into town she makes a point of popping into the general store to buy a few things. And to eavesdrop, of course.
She notices Itachi talking with the clerk and drifts a little closer to the front desk, curious about how he's handling this mission. Plus, she’s pretty sure he was in the first group to arrive, so maybe he’s learned something by now. Though, actually, she wouldn’t necessarily bet on his being willing to share.
Still, she browses a shelf nearby, waiting for him to be done with his business, and maybe listening into his conversation a little. Like you do.]
She notices Itachi talking with the clerk and drifts a little closer to the front desk, curious about how he's handling this mission. Plus, she’s pretty sure he was in the first group to arrive, so maybe he’s learned something by now. Though, actually, she wouldn’t necessarily bet on his being willing to share.
Still, she browses a shelf nearby, waiting for him to be done with his business, and maybe listening into his conversation a little. Like you do.]
（ so she gets a real treat — itachi, completely in character as his charming self, heir to a great fortune and somewhat profligate with both affection and money. he is flirting with the shopkeeper playfully, and there is real richness and warmth to his voice that is so often entirely absent when he speaks. whether it gained him any ground or not is hard to say, but as he's leaving he steps past yelena, inclines his head, ）
Ah, Miss Belova! This package is terribly heavy, would you mind accompanying me back to my home?
（ she is now his Designated Packhorse, thank you.
and the package is barely heavy at all as he dumps it cheerfully into her arms. ）
Ah, Miss Belova! This package is terribly heavy, would you mind accompanying me back to my home?
（ she is now his Designated Packhorse, thank you.
and the package is barely heavy at all as he dumps it cheerfully into her arms. ）
[As time in Scorpion's Bend creeps by, it feels like clues and information becomes hard to come by. So Clara easily falls into her day to day routine of teaching during the days and working a handful of nights at the saloon. She spends time with the Doctor and goes to investigate matters off on her own, and manages to find time in between to help Dr.McCoy in the mornings and some afternoons at the clinic.
But she never is too busy to find the time to practice. Whether it's working on her magic with Sabriel or finding a nice quiet, open area outside the stables to practice what Itachi's been teaching her. She's relentless in attempting to better herself and become stronger.
She tries to be mindful of the fact no one is eating properly, but she uses the excuse that she arrived in the third group to spend long hours out training. Of course, doing it out in the heat of the day won't do. So she heads out at night and works a good distance away from the stables, letting the chilly night air keep her from sweating and wasting more energy as she works at throwing the knives Itachi gave her between two trees.]
But she never is too busy to find the time to practice. Whether it's working on her magic with Sabriel or finding a nice quiet, open area outside the stables to practice what Itachi's been teaching her. She's relentless in attempting to better herself and become stronger.
She tries to be mindful of the fact no one is eating properly, but she uses the excuse that she arrived in the third group to spend long hours out training. Of course, doing it out in the heat of the day won't do. So she heads out at night and works a good distance away from the stables, letting the chilly night air keep her from sweating and wasting more energy as she works at throwing the knives Itachi gave her between two trees.]
（ he's on his way to check in on one of the other members of the crew when he hears it, the faint thwock of knives striking wood. it's a sound that's nearly as familiar as his own heartbeat by now, countless hours spent honing and re-honing those particular skills makes it something unmistakable — only the cadence is wrong. clara?
he steps off course briefly, a silent presence that alights on one of the trees, watching her. her form is slightly off, one foot not quite turned out properly, but the rest is — adequate, and her determination is obvious by the set of her shoulders and jaw.
she's made considerable progress.
he doesn't linger, simply uses shunshin to carry on his way, leaving nothing of his passage behind. it isn't until he's seen to his business and is returning to the dwelling he shares with sabriel that he actually stops, now hours later, to find her still busily practicing her throws.
this time he stays on the ground, arms folded, head faintly tilted to one side. ）
Clara-san.
he steps off course briefly, a silent presence that alights on one of the trees, watching her. her form is slightly off, one foot not quite turned out properly, but the rest is — adequate, and her determination is obvious by the set of her shoulders and jaw.
she's made considerable progress.
he doesn't linger, simply uses shunshin to carry on his way, leaving nothing of his passage behind. it isn't until he's seen to his business and is returning to the dwelling he shares with sabriel that he actually stops, now hours later, to find her still busily practicing her throws.
this time he stays on the ground, arms folded, head faintly tilted to one side. ）
Clara-san.
...Itachi.
[it's as gentle a telepathic prompting as he can muster, knowing how averse to this method as the shinobi is. yet what can he do? he can't drag himself physically there.
so instead, wherever Itachi's got himself perched right now is where the mental projection appears.]
[it's as gentle a telepathic prompting as he can muster, knowing how averse to this method as the shinobi is. yet what can he do? he can't drag himself physically there.
so instead, wherever Itachi's got himself perched right now is where the mental projection appears.]
（ he is perched in the most unexciting of places — his own room, on the neat folded duvet he treats as more a mattress than his actual mattress, which is generally stripped bare. when blue reaches out, he twitches physically, a ripple of myriad intermingling emotions dappling their connection with wariness, concern, very real anger and somewhere buried beneath it all, a tiny spark of something like relief.
it is telling, perhaps, that he could shut blue out entirely and doesn't. this too is a choice. ）
What?
（ it's blunt, sharp-edged and sonorous, pleasantries stripped away by the unfettered hands of grief and loathing and misery he generally marshals with significantly more finesse than this. ）
it is telling, perhaps, that he could shut blue out entirely and doesn't. this too is a choice. ）
What?
（ it's blunt, sharp-edged and sonorous, pleasantries stripped away by the unfettered hands of grief and loathing and misery he generally marshals with significantly more finesse than this. ）
Hey dude, that clone thing you do!!!
How do you do that, that was awesome.
Does your world just have a whole company ran by magic-clones of themselves???
[Gomen, Itachi-senpai, he has some severe insomnia tonight.]
How do you do that, that was awesome.
Does your world just have a whole company ran by magic-clones of themselves???
[Gomen, Itachi-senpai, he has some severe insomnia tonight.]
（ well they have that in common, at least — itachi hasn't slept in more than fits and starts since returning from the mission.
he is.
faintly more tolerant of newt now. turns out being willing to set yourself on fire for a good cause raises itachi's estimation of you as a general rule. ）
It is a shinobi technique. I will not inform you how it is done.
I do not expect such a thing would be effective. The productivity may increase for a time, but the exhaustion of each clone would have a cumulative effect upon the caster. Depending on how many clones were summoned, it is not unrealistic to say one may require a week or more of sleep.
he is.
faintly more tolerant of newt now. turns out being willing to set yourself on fire for a good cause raises itachi's estimation of you as a general rule. ）
It is a shinobi technique. I will not inform you how it is done.
I do not expect such a thing would be effective. The productivity may increase for a time, but the exhaustion of each clone would have a cumulative effect upon the caster. Depending on how many clones were summoned, it is not unrealistic to say one may require a week or more of sleep.
Knives are replaceable.
（ the sword is, too. he is not especially attached to it, as these things go. he attaches a ping to one of the single rooms in the dormitories, and then — ）
You may bring it to my room if you wish.
So as to use our time efficiently, if you make a duplicate of your axe in the machine in the armoury, I will seal it into a scroll for later missions on your behalf.
（ the sword is, too. he is not especially attached to it, as these things go. he attaches a ping to one of the single rooms in the dormitories, and then — ）
You may bring it to my room if you wish.
So as to use our time efficiently, if you make a duplicate of your axe in the machine in the armoury, I will seal it into a scroll for later missions on your behalf.
（ he's doing nothing else so interesting as sitting on his neatly-folded blankets on the floor in a sort of homemade futon, leaning back against a series of artfully stacked pillows. he had not expected blue quite so soon afterwards, and one hand twitches faintly, a seal to disarm the seal he has set on the door before he troubles himself to answer: ）
Yes.
Yes.
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