milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

jessica drew,
mugen

(no subject)

There's a sign up and lots of people are reading it and muttering about it.

Mugen can't read it. Not a word of it. Some of the lettering that could be kanji if he holds his head sideways looks kind of familiar but hell if he knows more than a few basic words, or at least words that are basic to 17th-century Japan, where he's from. Words like samurai or criminal or execution or sword.

"Nope. Don't see a damn word I know there."

He can write his name, or the symbol for his name, and it looks something like ∞ when he gets done writing it... but that's about it.

"And I ain't stupid." Eyes narrowed, he stands there scratching his chin. "Screw that." He's not stupid, but he's too proud to ask just anyone to read it to him.

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Behind him, Jin narrows his eyes at the notice and reads.

He's not pawning his swords. Or his glasses.

Fortunately, Fuu isn't here to make any demands like that.

Since he was a little brat and got his first sword -- real sword, not just some dagger, 'cause he had one of those by the time he was five -- he's always been real aware of people near him or around him or breathing anywhere close to him. If there's one thing Mugen's damn good at, it's self-preservation.

He knows it's Jin. He can tell by the way the guy smells, and the height and color of those clothes in the periphery of his vision. By the flash of light off those damn glasses and the subtle clink of the katana off the wakizashi tucked into his sash.

Mugen still hasn't turned around. He looks at that notice again, but tilting his head doesn't help and squinting only hurts his eyes. Scratching his ass doesn't make the words any clearer, and fuck if he knows any more than he did a minute ago. Finally, he speaks.

"What's it say?"

"It reminds us all," Jin begins, "that this is a place of business and says everyone's tabs must be at least partially settled by a month from now. It mentions a fund to help those who are bound to the bar, and someone called Snow White is in charge of it."

Jin, admittedly, has not tried to leave yet.

"We need to find work."

He turns to Mugen, almost expecting to see him dash for the door.

Mugen shrugs: same shit as always. "I ain't washing dishes."

Jin looks unsurprised.

Moving to scratch his head, he stops with his hand halfway up his face.

Then he pulls it away and studies his hand. And the tattoos on his wrist.

"They gonna arrest us if we don't pay?" Like he cares about that.

His eyebrows arch slightly.

"It doesn't say they will."

He looks at the notice again. It doesn't mention any consequences for not paying on time.

"Then I don't give a rat's ass." He pretends to read it one more time, then gives up.

His eyes travel to the front door. "Could go out there and kill an ogre or something. Pay it that way."

Or just leave and not come back. Wouldn't be the first time he's skipped out on something.

"Even if they don't throw us in jail, we should pay our tabs."

With or without consequences, it's the honorable thing to do. He and Mugen have eaten here and slept here. They should pay what is owed for that.

"Or we could ask around to see if help is needed."

Surely someone here needs a bodyguard or someone to chop wood or do any number of simple menial tasks.

Jin would, of course, prefer not to have to cook eel. But he would if it proved necessary.

"Screw that. You and your damn honor." His stomach rumbles. "I'm starving. I'm gonna eat first, no matter what we decide to do." Walking up to the bar, he asks for dumplings.

Nothing happens.

"Dumplings, dammit. I'm fucking hungry."

Nothing happens.

"This sucks." Resettling his pants around his waist, he checks to see that his katana is properly sheathed. It is.

With one backward glance at Jin and his honor, Mugen strides across the room and opens the door. He can hear the sounds of river water running by and the unmistakeable crackling of a fire, and he can smell fish cooking: it's the last part that settles it for him.

"Don't matter to me if you stay here or not: I ain't gettin' a job at this place."

This place can kiss my ass. He steps through the front door.

Stepping over to the bar, Jin pulls out all the money he has left: a paltry two monme.

It's absolutely all he has to pay with right now, barring his glasses and his swords (his soul). It's next to nothing, but it's a start. And he won't return without money to pay what he owes.

He doesn't have to return to his room to get anything. He doesn't own much, and it's all on him already.

After a final glance around, he also walks to the front door and opens it.

There's a campfire. And fish being cooked. He can hear it, smell it, practically taste it.

Maybe it's Fuu's fire, and maybe it's not.

He'll find out.

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