( their previous failure didn't sit well with asato. though he knows that, logically, it hadn't been an entire failure β it had provided them with valuable information, painting a mental map of the city with a much stronger idea of where the shadowy group which had been peddling amai to the vulnerable citizens and temporally-displaced transplants of the city were currently holed up. that, and a few names: names of individuals who might give them far more clarity and insight into what they had gone looking for blindly the last time.
all in all, not at all a failure. but it had still felt like one. asato didn't like to go out hunting and return home empty-handed. his frustration had seethed, low and roiling, beneath his surface. samatoki, on the other hand, is a little more open and apparent with his disappointment.
it was obvious, then, that this wasn't over. some time passed. they meet up again, discuss further plans, track down some of the people that those names belonged to. the two of them prove to be very intimidating, which helped shake loose more than enough valuable information for them to close in on their quarry.
which leads them to right here and right now. the sky is painted the colors of a dying fire as the sun sinks low in the sky, casting the city of yoshiwara into twilight. it was the part of day where the light was getting low but the street lamps hadn't yet been activated. it seemed as good a time as any to make their move. they had already cased this particular joint from the street and the rooftops a short while ago, so now all that there is the actual act of it: going inside and doing what they could to take down whoever they find inside.
asato doesn't get nervous anymore before things like this. there is only a deadly calm inside of him, fostered by years of having been called to do things very similar to this. one of his hands rests on the hilt of the sword resting at his hip.
he glances to samatoki, his dark blue eyes managing to cut through the oncoming dusk. ) We should move soon. Yes?
[ While they hadn't completely come out of the hunt empty-handed, Samatoki isn't thrilled - and makes it known, when they don't locate a source or a dealer. One or the other would be perfect, because the former cuts to the root of it where the latter gives them a more concrete trail. But at least they know the range better, he supposes. And they do get some information.
It's not a complete wash. But it's not enough to satisfy either of them, and the fact that they're on the same page there appeases him somewhat. At least Asato is willing to see it to the end.
They make... a shockingly decent team. They're certainly cut from a similar cloth, where finesse is thrown out the window in lieu of following instinct, getting to the point of what they need with fewer flowery words. A threat is a threat, and while the lengthier ones can be fairly efficient, well. Going right for the throat eliminates a need for it.
Eyes lit and burning with the dying light, matching the embers of his cigarette as he takes a drag, Samatoki considers the building in front of them. While not placid, nor necessarily calm, he's still in a way that suggests a tightly wound coil that's prepared for action. With a slow, heavy exhale of smoke, he flicks the cigarette off in a note of finality and reaches with his other hand to pull his mic out of his waistband. ]
Before the lights kick on in the street. [ Because they can move quick in the cover of the oncoming night - Asato, he realizes, will have an easier time than even the people who call this place their turf.
His fingers flex around his mic, and he thumbs the switch. The familiar noise of it activating is a comfort in a foreign place, even with a situation he knows from years of experience, and he adjusts his grip to go from holding a simple microphone to cradling the skull of the old-fashioned stand. Better safe than sorry, after all. ] Let's go.
( it had certainly not been the desired outcome, but considering they had stricken out with little more than the vaguest of information about the drug and those that were dealing it, it was better than the worst alternative: absolutely nothing. any hunter who gave up and went home after they missed their first shot at their quarry would end up starving, so asato is keen and clear of mind when they gather for their second foray out into the city.
and now they have the scent, and they have the trail. he is more confident this time.
the smell of the cigarette smoke is acrid, burning in the back of his throat. he would far prefer the scent of the sakura trees, but β asato isn't one to argue, and it's only a minor annoyance. instead his deep blue eyes flicker to the odd device that samatoki pulls from his waistband, something that asato wouldn't really have a name for if pressed. it is certainly not something they have in sisa.
he would have to ask later. or perhaps he would get a demonstration.
his gaze shifts to the currently-darkened streetlamps. he's noticed the delay in how long they take to turn on; it's a good plan. a relatively narrow window, but the best one offered to them. they would have to work quickly, but that was already the plan for asato.
the cat gives a slight jump at the sound of the mic activating. he's never heard it before, and his eyes are wide and his tail is a little poofed up as he looks around and ascertains that it'd come from the strange device. he... will take it that he is ready, then. asato gives a stern nod. ) If you end up needing help, call out.
( because asato is going up. he sets off down a narrow alleyway, leaping up to grab onto a windowsill and then hauling himself up in a similar fashion to a lower roof of the building, then up to a higher portion. he'd seen a short gap where he would be able to get onto the roof of the targeted building, and from there, the windows to the upper floors were simple enough to get to.
once he gets to the rooftop of the building they were infiltrating, he waits. he knows samatoki is not one for stealth or subterfuge. once he starts making a distraction, asato will slip in from the upper floor and begin taking them out while their backs are turned. )
Same to you. [ Samatoki will keep his laughter to a minimum, seeing Asato's surprise in response to his mic. But he's not about to sit down and go over every fine detail of what he can do, when they have more important things to be getting up to. After all, a demonstration outside of battle wasn't exactly going to be the smartest thing for him to do.
His speaker takes up a lot of space, and isn't conspicuous. Here, though, is familiar territory for him.
Watching the cat disappear into the alley, he turns to look back at the streetlamps for a moment, gauging, timing. While he might not have them perfectly timed, they do have a little bit longer to go before the street will be lit up properly again. So he makes his move now, turning back to the building itself and striding forward confidently towards the door that he'd picked out for this... well, distraction.
It's an old practice for him, something that he'd done plenty enough while part of The Dirty Dawg. Being the vanguard allowed Samatoki every opportunity to break down doors, bust through windows, kick in some skulls.
Yoshiwara isn't really that different, at its core.
Without further ado, he doesn't even bother with his mic at first. Just sends a well-aimed kick at the door - it slams open with a cacophony of noise, enough of a signal if there ever was one. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
notoriously) wrote2019-04-02 09:18 pm
action: cracking some amai-dealing skulls
all in all, not at all a failure. but it had still felt like one. asato didn't like to go out hunting and return home empty-handed. his frustration had seethed, low and roiling, beneath his surface. samatoki, on the other hand, is a little more open and apparent with his disappointment.
it was obvious, then, that this wasn't over. some time passed. they meet up again, discuss further plans, track down some of the people that those names belonged to. the two of them prove to be very intimidating, which helped shake loose more than enough valuable information for them to close in on their quarry.
which leads them to right here and right now. the sky is painted the colors of a dying fire as the sun sinks low in the sky, casting the city of yoshiwara into twilight. it was the part of day where the light was getting low but the street lamps hadn't yet been activated. it seemed as good a time as any to make their move. they had already cased this particular joint from the street and the rooftops a short while ago, so now all that there is the actual act of it: going inside and doing what they could to take down whoever they find inside.
asato doesn't get nervous anymore before things like this. there is only a deadly calm inside of him, fostered by years of having been called to do things very similar to this. one of his hands rests on the hilt of the sword resting at his hip.
he glances to samatoki, his dark blue eyes managing to cut through the oncoming dusk. ) We should move soon. Yes?
no subject
It's not a complete wash. But it's not enough to satisfy either of them, and the fact that they're on the same page there appeases him somewhat. At least Asato is willing to see it to the end.
They make... a shockingly decent team. They're certainly cut from a similar cloth, where finesse is thrown out the window in lieu of following instinct, getting to the point of what they need with fewer flowery words. A threat is a threat, and while the lengthier ones can be fairly efficient, well. Going right for the throat eliminates a need for it.
Eyes lit and burning with the dying light, matching the embers of his cigarette as he takes a drag, Samatoki considers the building in front of them. While not placid, nor necessarily calm, he's still in a way that suggests a tightly wound coil that's prepared for action. With a slow, heavy exhale of smoke, he flicks the cigarette off in a note of finality and reaches with his other hand to pull his mic out of his waistband. ]
Before the lights kick on in the street. [ Because they can move quick in the cover of the oncoming night - Asato, he realizes, will have an easier time than even the people who call this place their turf.
His fingers flex around his mic, and he thumbs the switch. The familiar noise of it activating is a comfort in a foreign place, even with a situation he knows from years of experience, and he adjusts his grip to go from holding a simple microphone to cradling the skull of the old-fashioned stand. Better safe than sorry, after all. ] Let's go.
no subject
and now they have the scent, and they have the trail. he is more confident this time.
the smell of the cigarette smoke is acrid, burning in the back of his throat. he would far prefer the scent of the sakura trees, but β asato isn't one to argue, and it's only a minor annoyance. instead his deep blue eyes flicker to the odd device that samatoki pulls from his waistband, something that asato wouldn't really have a name for if pressed. it is certainly not something they have in sisa.
he would have to ask later. or perhaps he would get a demonstration.
his gaze shifts to the currently-darkened streetlamps. he's noticed the delay in how long they take to turn on; it's a good plan. a relatively narrow window, but the best one offered to them. they would have to work quickly, but that was already the plan for asato.
the cat gives a slight jump at the sound of the mic activating. he's never heard it before, and his eyes are wide and his tail is a little poofed up as he looks around and ascertains that it'd come from the strange device. he... will take it that he is ready, then. asato gives a stern nod. ) If you end up needing help, call out.
( because asato is going up. he sets off down a narrow alleyway, leaping up to grab onto a windowsill and then hauling himself up in a similar fashion to a lower roof of the building, then up to a higher portion. he'd seen a short gap where he would be able to get onto the roof of the targeted building, and from there, the windows to the upper floors were simple enough to get to.
once he gets to the rooftop of the building they were infiltrating, he waits. he knows samatoki is not one for stealth or subterfuge. once he starts making a distraction, asato will slip in from the upper floor and begin taking them out while their backs are turned. )
no subject
His speaker takes up a lot of space, and isn't conspicuous. Here, though, is familiar territory for him.
Watching the cat disappear into the alley, he turns to look back at the streetlamps for a moment, gauging, timing. While he might not have them perfectly timed, they do have a little bit longer to go before the street will be lit up properly again. So he makes his move now, turning back to the building itself and striding forward confidently towards the door that he'd picked out for this... well, distraction.
It's an old practice for him, something that he'd done plenty enough while part of The Dirty Dawg. Being the vanguard allowed Samatoki every opportunity to break down doors, bust through windows, kick in some skulls.
Yoshiwara isn't really that different, at its core.
Without further ado, he doesn't even bother with his mic at first. Just sends a well-aimed kick at the door - it slams open with a cacophony of noise, enough of a signal if there ever was one. ]