Try hard to do your best;

[swordedpast]

WHO: Archer (swordedpast) and OPEN.
WHERE: Throughout the City.
WHEN: Monday night through Thursday.
WARNINGS: Just angst for now.
SUMMARY: After feeling the effects of the cursed loot from the dungeon, Archer broods all around the City.
FORMAT: Starting with prose; tagger's choice after that. Let me know in the subject when your character is running into him (at work, while running errands, or while he's searching for Rin).

Everything has been going swiftly downhill ever since Archer emerged Monday afternoon from the ominous castle and reunited with Rin outside it. Who'd have thought it would end up that way?

The twin apartments he shares with Rin are the place in the City he's been closest to happiness--the place anywhere he's been closest to happiness, really. So naturally, once they've argued and he's left feeling bitter and dispirited, he starts avoiding them.

He stays late at work in the dojo and the supermarket, tidying up far more than he has to, a far-away look on his face as he goes about his tasks with mechanical precision wasted on his simple janitorial jobs. He lingers in stores on errands, barely talking to the cashiers beyond nods, a scowl creeping onto his face. He pays little heed to anyone he might bump into or brush past, and he trails with him an aura of gloom and misery.

Archer returns home only to feed the kitten and shove a simple dinner into Rin's apartment, and then he leaves again. It's not until Thursday morning that he realizes: the one eating Rin's dinners has been the cat. She hasn't been home at all.

He calls off his jobs abruptly, with minimal apologies. And out he goes into the cold of the City, only his red coat lending him some warmth as he paces through streets and parks with little attention paid to exactly where he's going, trying not to appear too obviously to be looking for someone. Because he is. He doesn't know what he'll say to Rin; he has a feeling he'll only screw it up more. But the thought of her absenting herself from the home they've accidentally made together is absolutely intolerable.

All of this after he gave her that beautiful locket, too...it's really a pity.

Comments

thursday! Evening!

[foreshadower]

Along Archer's path in the cold, cold City, there's a shadowy, shadowy man who walks the streets more than most would. He enjoys it, invigorated by it, listening to the stories and tales that others have to tell. He doesn't share much of his own, but he doesn't have to, and he records them in his mind for later, to write and chronicle what he sees and hears, to share the experience later, perhaps, or perhaps to have for himself.

He'd always been particularly stingy with his journals, after all.

But it's on this cold day that he sees the sight in red, everything about him does say misery. The cant of his head the look in his eye, his stride, everything paints the picture enough for him, and he follows for a while, before he notices the way he shifts his head.

Looking for someone? Something? Perhaps just a tourist? But no, there's something about the way he moves, his hair, something that tells the shadowy, shadowy man that this is no tourist. This would be an import.

"Looking for something, are you?" he speaks up, only a scant few yards away.

[swordedpast]

It's easy enough to assign Archer to the imPort category. His coloring is unusual enough. But even in the City, few people would wear that outfit so casually: the strange black armor, only possible to mistake for normal clothes at a distance, underneath the cape-like red coat.

And wrapped up in his misery as he is, he utterly fails to notice that he's being watched. He'll berate himself for the oversight later. For now, as the shadowy, shadowy man addresses him so abruptly from so close, Archer draws himself up short, grey eyes suddenly intent not on some distant, unfindable thing, but on the man in front of him.

He frowns faintly. "I'd say it's not your business, but I guess no one in this place knows how to keep to themselves. Very well, I am looking for something."

[foreshadower]

"My, my, touchy!" he comments lightly, rounding closer even while he tugs off the tophat for the moment, to give him a wider view of the area, peering over the rims of his sunglasses while he scoped it out, before he slid it back on, and afforded the young man with a small, knowing smile.

"Now, if you were so upset about it, you would have told me to, oh something like 'sod off'?" The Shade was relatively unbothered by such hostility, but normally, he was. When you lived so long, you stopped caring, and just started meddling anyway. Why not, after all? It was fun, and sometimes it served a greater purpose.

"What is it that you're looking for?"

[swordedpast]

Irritation flashes in Archer's eyes. Normally he might be better at concealing it beneath a mask of casual indifference, but tonight is not a normal night. Tonight, he's hopelessly on edge and lacking in his usual masks. "It's nothing of mine. It's more like I'm something of hers--"

And he cuts himself off there with the sudden sullen glare of someone who realizes, too late, that he's said too much.

[foreshadower]

Shade only lifted his eyebrows higher. Of course, the guy was angry, but letting something out like that? He could only regard him with mild curiosity after that, as if he weren't sure what to make of it.

"Freudian slip?" he asked. It was what he would expect, to be fair. A common tactic in the time that he'd practiced banal lines and donned a much more slimming costume for the purpose of luring superheroes out for a duel on the streets of Keystone City.

"And what, precisely is it? You may find that some here are quite adept at finding that which is lost."

[swordedpast]

He gave a weary smirk. "It's only a Freudian slip if it's incorrect." But that was all he said about that strange comment for now.

Instead of saying more on that, for a long moment after the Shade spoke, Archer stood in silence, his expression pensive (the smirk quickly vanishing), as he struggled with himself. This was a private matter, and he didn't dare admit his failing by revealing it. And yet--it was becoming increasingly clear that he had failed, and so he would not rectify that failure by himself.

Typical.

When he finally did speak, his voice was brusque. "A girl. Seventeen or eighteen. Japanese, with black hair in pigtails. Dressed in red and black. It's important that I find her before harm comes to her."

[foreshadower]

"I thought free education was meant to make children more knowledgeable," he murmured, holding a hand to his breast in mock-disappointment. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised, and yet he was, time and time again, by the modern age. And he didn't speak of machines, or inventions that allowed people to fly high above the earth.

"And you believe she would be harmed? My, what stirs such paranoia? Is she a diplomat's child? Perhaps there is a contract out for her head?"

The light way that he said it wasn't the only concern, but the way his eyes shifted, obvious, as if he were thinking about pursuing such a thing himself. He wouldn't really, unless of course he felt particularly wanting of funds or she just happened upon his path at that time, but for appearances sake, he would look like he was thinking on it.

After all, that was just the sort of thing a villain would do.

[swordedpast]

The murmur earned only a blank, annoyed look. Clearly, out-of-date psychology was not Archer's strong suit.

It also wasn't his current concern. He smiled faintly--an expression with no friendliness in it--as the Shade's gaze shifted so...shiftily. "Whatever the reason, it's my place to protect her, so if someone threatens her I'll have to hurt them. I think that might be fun, though."

He wasn't lying. A fight would at least give him some way to vent his own feelings of failure and frustration right now.

[foreshadower]

"Fun? A fight?" The Shade, in his immortal glory, could only laugh at the prospect. Maybe he was underestimating the boy, of course. It was likely, but considering the fights he'd been in, someone threatening him could really only be met with amusement, followed by a soft dismay at the very idea.

"For protection? I thought the point was to do it out of duty, not for fun, hm?" he asked it, but even still, he couldn't help but shift his feet, only slightly. The soft leather and pristine white spats somehow not collecting dust or grime in the often dirty City walkways.

"Although, if you wish, I'm sure you could find a willing party."

Tuesday evening

[xxii_thefool]

Minako's making a routine stop for groceries on her way back from the Pie Hole; she just meant to pick up a few things, but it's impossible for her to ignore the sight of someone so visibly consumed with unhappiness.

...especially when it turns out to be someone she knows.

"Huh? Archer?" Shopping basket in her hands, she calls out to him from a few yards down the aisle. "Did something happen?"

[swordedpast]

He's sufficiently wrapped up in his sorrow that he doesn't notice her until she calls out to him. No, he's too busy brooding over the expiration date on the back of this milk he's planning to buy on his way home from work now that his shift is done. So he very nearly drops it when Minako speaks to him.

But then he hurriedly pulls himself back together and does his best to pretend he was never startled at all, which means setting the milk back down on the shelf and turning to scowl at her. "We got out of the castle, didn't we? That counts as something, but apparently it's not good news to everybody."

[xxii_thefool]

"That's not exactly what I meant, but..." She makes her way along the grocery aisle towards him, studying his face with a look of concern as she gets closer. "What do you mean, it's not good news to everyone? Is there someone who'd have preferred for people to stay trapped inside?"

[swordedpast]

The instant he realizes that she's looking at him that way, with that look of concern, he vanishes the frustration and worry and upset on his face. It all disappears beneath a mask of resigned, smug irritation, and he gives a low chuckle. "Unfortunately, that's not what I meant. It would be easier if there were just some other villain to fight, wouldn't it?"

He remembers: he was going to buy the milk. He pulls it back off the shelf and puts it in the basket at his side. "Well, to be plain, Rin isn't speaking to me."

[xxii_thefool]

The change in his demeanor does nothing to dissipate Minako's concern. She's far too familiar with masks not to be able to recognize that one has just come up. His explanation only causes her brows to draw together: "Again? What happened? Did the two of you have another misunderstanding?"

[swordedpast]

Instantly, he regrets telling her even that much. How is it that she knows enough to ask 'again'? How did that happen? "A misunderstanding? I suppose." He sounds faintly doubtful behind the cool nonchalance of his voice. He's sure it was more than that: he's sure that he said terrible things, and failed her. "I gave her the locket I picked up in the castle, as I had no use for it. But something about the way I did it offended her."

He gives a shake of his head. "I doubt it's anything significant," he lies smoothly. "She'll get over it soon enough."

[xxii_thefool]

Minako regards him dubiously for a few more moments before letting out a sigh. "This sort of thing happens because you're both so bad at being honest," she says. "Did you say it like that when you gave it to her, too? 'Here, I don't have any use for this, so you take it'? If you did, it's no wonder she got upset."

She shakes her head a little in exasperation before looking back up at him again with a more serious expression on her face. "I told you before, didn't I? If you won't tell her what you're really thinking, she'll keep getting the wrong idea."

[swordedpast]

For a moment, the mask falters, and he looks puzzled. "Of course I said it like that, but that didn't bother her. Should it have...?" He shakes his head again as well. "No, her mind is at a different level than someone like me, and she's far too quick to figure something like that out. She wasn't bothered until I called her selfish."

His eyes widen slightly at that, as he realizes just how it must sound, before he quickly affects nonchalance again. "Well, I didn't mean to. But it must have escalated from there."

tuesday tuesday gotta get down on tuesday

[jailbrake]

[To say that the responses to Michiko's irate Network post have failed to sway her entirely would be a great overstatement, but so too would be saying she'd taken them fully to heart. There's no way of really knowing, and she's not shaken that easily!! Whether or not this is a good thing is up for debate. Because she's still leaving no apocalyptic stone unturned, however, the job of preparing for the end of the world is far from over. She needs more food, she needs more water, and she needs more medicine. She could also go for some more cigarettes, but with less than a week left edibility has to take precedence.

One unexpected windfall of Michiko's constant shoplifting is that it's left her with a decent accumulation of money from Lachesis' weekly salary, and now that she needs to purchase something she can't simply walk out the store with -- like, say, about 50 cans of various foodlike substances and a surfeit of bottled water -- she can actually buy it legally. This is why she powerwalks toward the shortest checkout line with confidence, pushing an overloaded shopping cart before her like some kind of human Zamboni. When the person in front of her has finished and she takes their place, however, she finally notices who the cashier is, and her eyebrows take a flying leap.]

You?

[swordedpast]

Yes, me.

[He looks at her cart, considers trying not to roll his eyes, and decides not to bother. They get rolled.]

What? Did you think I worked as some hardened mercenary? That sort of job needs too much travel.

[jailbrake]

[SHE IS BEAUTIFUL
NO MATTER WHAT THEY SAY
YES WORDS CAN'T BRING HER DOW-OW-OWN OHHH NOWOWOWO]

Ah? Can't say I ever gave enough of a crap to think about it. [She taps the toe of her boot against the supermarket linoleum a few times, apparently considering this.] More like a janitor.

[swordedpast]

[Looking at her can totally bring Archer down though OH BURN. No, it's not really much of a burn. Everything brings him down.]

Oh?

[He looks smug for a moment longer, as he starts scanning Canned Food Item #1 of #42837. Then he kind of deflates.]

...I'm working the register tonight because we're so busy. It's true that normally my job involves more clean-up.

[jailbrake]

See that? [oh god she's grinning how horrible] Can't turn your back on these instincts.

[Michiko raises an eyebrow as she looks through the contents of her own cart, because oh yeah she's actually here to buy stuff and Archer can't just grab all of them at once, and lifts one of the many cans of tuna. For a moment she's just kind of staring at the little pricetag, then she lets out air from between her teeth; tch, or maybe psssh. Who can tell with those wacky animus??]

Oi, good luck with that one. [She thumps it down onto that conveyor belt area, quickly picking up other cans and repeating the motion.] I'm not counting ta make it easier.

[There's a whole bunch of rude jokes to be made about how high Michiko can count, but in reality she's just lazy, and this isn't her first shopping trip. There does seem to be an order to the voluminous piles of food she overdramatically slaps down, however -- tuna next to tuna, beans next to beans, this shit next to more of this shit.]

[swordedpast]

[The moment she grins like that, he knows what he has to do, and his fate is sealed.

He has to get back at her somehow.]

Hmmm.

[He keeps scanning the cans.]

Paper or plastic? Well, you should go with plastic; that's my opinion. It'll be easier to swing the bags as a weapon.

You'll need weapons, with the attention you'll draw with these.

[jailbrake]

[Tragically and predictably, it happens; her eyes follow the cans automatically, wide with consideration. She is actually listening to what he's saying.]

You think?

[Well. She is generally more sincere when she's brief.]

[swordedpast]

Not everybody's smart enough to stock up.

[He starts stacking the cans in doubled-up plastic bags as he finishes scanning them. His pokerface remains perfect.]

You'll be a tempting target for the ones who didn't.