(OPEN) Because I danced...

[megatechbody]

WHO: Mariko and YOU
WHERE: Her various dreamscapes
WHEN: Backdated to August 21 because I'm bad at this.
WHAT: Mariko has to work through some STUFF, y'all
WARNINGS: Either mentioned or will possibly come up: parent death, car accidents and grisly/bloody joint injury.

[HOO BOY this is late, but I hope you enjoy. Mariko is going to half-fail in her recovery, so if you want to chat about that or if you have any questions either inbox me here or wingedbeastie .]

The room you wake up in is dark, save for the eerily glowing path leading through the room. If you strain your eyes, you can see desks and chairs, the far wall covered in monitors - lit with with matrix green writing as code flickers through the screens. Underfoot, a mass of bubbles races by as if drawn to another destination by gravity.

Before you the closest monitor on the closest desk flickers with a textbox.

Loading...

10 percent loaded - The night bird calls out in sadness [CW: Eventual mention, description and effects of a car accident, parent death]

It’s summer, humid and uncomfortable.

Fortunately, the japanese countryside is beautiful and despite the heat, it’s easy to get lost in the view of the hillside. Sunset is kind to the hills and fields, washing everything in a haze of fiery red-orange light and leaves a golden cast on the nearby river.

As the incline evens out, there is something of a pronounced riverbank and there a girl walks - her brown hair is up in a ponytail, hair short enough that it poofs an inch or two past the elastic. She’s still young, the beginnings of a growth spurt showing in not quite gawky limbs. She’s dressed simply - a tank top riddled with music notes, shorts and carries sneakers as she walks barefoot. Everything about her manner says the heat has has gotten to her - the way the heels of the sneakers dangle on her first two fingers, the lazy way turns stones over with her feet as she assesses them.

When she finds a suitable stone, she reaches down and grabs it. There’s no excited or joyful noise, her eyes move straight to the water and she uses her fingers to assess the rock further. Sometimes, she drops the rock with a bitter sounding huff and goes back to her lackadaisical search. Most of the time, she turns the stone in her hand to make sure the curve settles just right in her grip just like Ma-

Just like she was taught. She throws hard, far too hard for it to be a game and when it’s right - she watches the stone skip clear to the other side of the river. When the rock doesn’t make it past a skip or two, or even worse when it lands in the water with an abortive ‘plunk’, the scowl returns even darker; that’s the face you recognize.

Mariko, age twelve.

60 percent loaded - The Moon fails to shine down on either day or night. [CW: Description of gore]

It’s a wedding. An actual wedding.

Mariko walks down the aisle, gentle looking and not a hair out of place in the white kimono and headress. Each side of the aisle is full, each seat occupied with family, friends and strangers. It’s where you find yourself as she continues the procession, expression carefully neutral. In the front rows, Derek and Togusa’’s distinctive hair can be seen, but the men next to Togusa - the six of them seem out of focus, some more than others. There are two women similarly unclear, but suddenly focus is drawn to the officiant and the man before him.

The man is non-descript, Japanese by appearance and the traditional black kimono, so blank it feels easy to put another face to his body. Still he seems pleased to be here. Not happy - just pleased. Then Mariko takes a slow shuddering breath that feels like it echoes in the skull of anyone who can hear it. The guests don’t seem phased and there is a compulsion to look back at Mariko.

She’s in a splendid white gown, veil ending tastefully at where her bob would usually sit. At the altar stands Matthew Murdock, red and white cane in hand, red-tinted sunglasses ever present. He smiles, turning the cane restlessly in hands as he waits for her, faithfully. Mariko chuckles, uneasy but entertained and it feels like it should draw attention to her.

She’s in a simple pale purple dress, hair just like always and she’s pressing her lips together because this is kind of ridiculous. Next to the officiant stands Tatsuo, hair a mess as always. The suit he has isn’t the fanciest, but he seems breathless like he was just dragged in on a whirlwind.

A gunshot deafens everyone present, and the guests scatter. The eight who exist here in dubious clarity turn in perfect unison to see Mariko in jeans, a plain shirt and her leather jacket over it, trained on a man who falls out of the sky just far enough away to be unreachable - his ankle a ruined, shattered mess and what could only be his foot leading your eye to where he would likely land.

But Mariko screams and drops the gun and as it clatters away - her three grooms stand shoulder to shoulder, nothing but damnation in their eyes - shining in the holes of oni masks.

The first groom speaks, blue mask rendering his voice neutral, almost computer-like .“You only love my grief. You don’t care about being happy with me.”

“Hideo, that’s not - I…” her voice is weak, tears silencing protest.

The second groom speaks, his mask a red-tinged black - voice frustrated and hoarse from yelling. “I was terrified for us and you just wanted me to enable you!”

“You never fucking listen to me, Matt!” her tears burn slowly down flushed cheeks.

The third groom speaks, in a placid, unremarkable tone through a white mask that looks like it was waved through smoke. “I’m just comfortable, I guess. Easy to keep. Easy to let go.”

“Tatsuo” her sob is short and shocked before she takes an impossibly long breath in and draws herself up to full height.

Mariko, age twentysomething, stands at the beginning of the aisle, her three Oni grooms at the other end and watching.

91 perc -- Data corruption. Please let the dawn be waiting in the Underworld

A mass of wires sits on what can only be described as a tech throne, the cables wind so smoothly into what looks like an intentional weaving. In front of it, as if to block interference, stands Mariko in three incarnations. The child met earlier is on the left, her eyes full of suspicion and heartbreak. One the right is the near-bride, frustrated and exhausted. In the middle stands Mariko as you know here - or not quite. Dressed in riot gear so dark it seems to suck in light, something in the ceiling seems to cast a shadow on her. The shadow obscures her, making her hair and eyes darker in the absence of proper light. She’s the first one to address you, interloper, in a voice that sounds more accustomed to giving orders than conversation.

“For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears...”

Little Mariko speaks next, fearless and clear - the way only kids can manage. “When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child.”

Near-Wife Mariko speaks next, tired and wanting this to be over. “When I became a man, I put the ways of childhood behind me.”

They stand together, hands clasped and fingers twisted together impossibly but between the gaps of their bodies, the knotted wires on the throne can be seen.

Comments

[standalonehuman]

One second, Hitori is entering the dream, some deep concern for Mariko in his mind. The next? Hitori is twelve, standing on the edge of the river. It's summer, so his hair is closer to his adult counterpart, grown out as long as he dared get away with. Mariko might recognize his middle school's baseball uniform from pictures.

When he picks up a rock and tosses it, it comes out too much like a pitch. Ka-splunk! It lands in the water with a deep splash. Hitori laughs, and that habit of scratching at the back of his neck is still there.

"Guess I'm not as good at it, hunh?"

[megatechbody]

The first thing that enters Mariko’s vision is the rock that Togusa threw, the loud splash snapping her out of the fugue she seems to be in. She turns to him and her brows shoot up, recognition blossoming into confusion near instantly.

“Hitori...” she mumbles, eyes flicking up and down. The uniform, the hair - she recognizes it all but it’s too early.

She blinks a few times and goes back to analyzing the rocks, the dream restoring itself. Mariko pointedly doesn’t look at him, focusing way too hard on her task for nearly a minute in silence; it’s the first flicker of her legendary non-verbal ‘Go Away’, full of adolescent resentment.

Her eyes flick to where his rock landed as she picks up a rock, turning it in her fingers.

“You know how to throw curves?” she asks, looking at him just before gently tossing the rock to him.

[standalonehuman]

Hitori recognizes her, but even he realizes there is something wrong in the setting. while they were family friends, they didn't know each other this early. Not personally. They both filled in their backgrounds later, know the other's life story as well as their own now. But not then.

Mari falls into her characteristic sullenness, and for a second, Hitori doesn't know how to proceed. But she picks a way forwards for them both. Hitori reaches out to catch the rock, rolling it over in his hand.

"Yeah!" Excited, because he does. Before he lets his manner relax a little more, fit back in to the more somber mood settling over them. When he tosses the second rock like a curveball, letting his shoulder get into it, it at least sails further before another plunk into the water.

[megatechbody]

His enthusiasm earns a raise of eyebrows, the second throw's plunk earning a quick snort of a laugh. She shakes her head before finding him another rock.

"It's different than that."

After giving him a rock, Mariko finds one for herself feeling out the motion for the throw before explaining it.

"You have to throw it sideways, like you're trying get it around something."

She makes a show of doing the throw in slow motion, arm sideways rather than the overhand throw from baseball.

"Get it?"

[standalonehuman]

Hitori watches closely and he nods. "Ohh." He takes the rock, and he practices the motion once, slow, without letting the rock go. But it still kind of has the whippy motion on the end.

This time, the rock sails, skip plop! One, not bad for a beginner. Hitori looks briefly very happy about that, and looks at Mari for confirmation.

Again, it's like he has to remember to tone his reaction down. "It's nice and quiet out here." Which- might be why she was out here, and he ruined it. Oops. He reaches for another rock.

The fun of these types of activities, where you get to do something, but you don't have to directly interact. Another rock, goes skipkip.

[megatechbody]

Mariko smiles at his enthusiasm, giving him a thumbs up before throwing her own rock. It skips twice and as she watches it go, she frowns a little and rolls her left shoulder.

"Yep. I used to run around and catch fireflies when I was little."

She remembers crying, wailing about not being able to come back. But that's not right - she's been coming to visit her parents every summer. Even after -

"Ow." Mariko winces, hand rubbing at her temple to try and soothe her headache.

[thisloveisjustice]

Tatsuo look around at his surroundings. He's fairly certain he's in Japan, but... it's obviously not Tokyo. And the river... is not any of the rivers he knows from Shinagawa or Kawasaki (plus those areas are still too urban).

And then he realizes his perspective is too low, so he looks down. Judging from the size of his sneakers, he's about... ten or so.

A plunk catches his attention, and he looks around for the source. A girl, a little older than him, sneakers in hand. Something about her is... familiar, and he walks closer, picking his way down to the water's edge.

"Mari?"

[megatechbody]

That’s ... way too familiar. There are barely any kids around and the ones that are here can’t stand her. Her gaze snaps to the boy nearby, cocking her head at the mop of curls on his head.

“Tsu?”

Recognition cools as soon as it fires, though the tension bleeds out of her considerably as he approaches.

“Are you new here?” she peers at him owlishly.

[thisloveisjustice]

Hmmmm. Tatsuo tries to dig up what he knows about Mariko's childhood, but keeps drawing blanks. Good job dude.

So he settles for the new boy role. It's one he's seen many students have to deal with.

"Yeah," he nods, then gives her a smile. "I wanted to look around while Mom made dinner."

[megatechbody]

Something darkens in Mariko's expression at the word Mom and she turns back to the water to keep him from seeing it. Tension threads through her suddenly and she grips the rock in her hand before throwing it to the water. It skips once, pitifully before sinking and all she can do is growl, clenching her fist again.

Finally she sighs and moves to sit, eyes not moving from the water.

"I wish my mom was here to cook. Dad's not really good at it."

[thisloveisjustice]

Oh. Oh. Oh god, the one thing he does know about Mariko's childhood and he manages to step directly on it. Tatsuo carefully sits on the bank, close enough to talk, but just far enough away that he hopes he's not intruding on her space.

"She's... gone?"

[megatechbody]

"Yeah. It feels like if I go home at just the right time, she'll be there waiting..."

Mariko picks up another rock, not even really trying as the rock skips once.

"D'You have somebody like that? Gone?"

[blondferret]

[Derek looks around at his surroundings. Where the hell is he? He takes a few steps in trying to figure it out when he realizes that his view is different. He looks down at himself. He's in kid clothing. Simple jean and a green jumper. His hands are a lot smaller than usual. He sees the river and talks over to it and looks in. Shit, he's a kid. Like an 11 year old kid. He hears a plunk into the river and he looks over to see... a kid version of Mariko? He'd know that scowl anywhere. He takes a few steps towards her and watches her throw another stone and it only skips once. Again that scowl.

Derek looks down at the rocks and finds a nice smooth one. Picking it up he walks over to mini Mariko.]

You're doing it wrong. It's all in the wrist.

[Derek brings his arm back and flicks the rock out onto the river. It skips four times.]

See?

[He turns to mini Mariko, smiling.]

[megatechbody]

[Mariko hears the correction and looks out to where the rock lands, fists balling up as she tries to breathe. They're only trying to help, it's not like she's done this a million times or anything. It's just hard to focus on doing it right without her.

The worst part is his tone. It's so nice and without judgement and she can almost hear her. You'll get it next time.]

Didn't ask you.

[She turns her head way from the new arrival and tries to swallow the lump in her throat, sniffing hard as she looks at a particularly nice looking oval rock. Still, Mariko is stubborn; she picks up the rock and with a nice sharp flick, sends the rock skimming along the water. She doesn't bother watching to count.

Instead, she looks at Derek with a gaze that's unsure and just a tiny bit watery.]

Who are you, anyway?

[blondferret]

[OK rude, he was just trying to help! Still he tries to keep his cool. He is dealing with a Mariko in kid form.]

I'm Derek. Derek Marlowe.

[He holds out his hand to shake.]

I uh... just moved into the neighborhood.

[megatechbody]

[Recognition seems to fire for a moment after he introduces himself, but then Mariko's sullenness seems to return. She shakes his hand limply, eyes drifting to the ground.]

Welcome to the neighborhood.

[She scans the ground for a moment before finding a suitable rock and offering it to him.]

Sorry for snapping at you.

[blondferret]

[Derek shakes his head.]

You're having a rough day aren't you? Anything I can do to make it better?

[megatechbody]

[Mariko shrugs the way that kids do, because she does have an answer and she knows he can't do it. So there's no point. Instead she shoots him a quick, wane smile.]

Most people don't care if I've had a bad day after I snap at them.

[frostythehitman]

James finds himself approaching from behind with a light step, quiet as ever. He watches her skip rocks for a while and, from behind, doesn't even recognize her. It's not until he finally steps into her field of vision that he gets a good look at her face, and he realizes it's a younger version of the same one he stared in the mirror for days this past month.

Mariko as a child. Unfortunately, he doesn't know much more about her now than he did when they switched bodies--and especially doesn't know anything about her as a child. Whatever she's doing, whatever that expression is, whatever she's thinking--it's all a mystery to him. He struggles to think of something to say.

"Is this what you wanted? To drown the rocks?"

[megatechbody]

The question interrupts her thoughts, just as she was about to throw the next rock. Mariko looks up at the man, narrowing her eyes at him suspiciously as he visibly tries to take in what's happening. He's not anyone she recognizes, not directly at least - so when he asks such a strange question she scoffs.

"No." she eyes him down, particular attention to his prosthetic, as she turns the rocks in her fingers anxiously."Who the hell are you?"

Papa never liked that she picked up swearing so quickly from the adults, but she figured that this would be an okay exception.

[frostythehitman]

He tries to stifle a sudden bout of laughter that ends up coming out more as a snort.

"Who taught you to speak like that?" Because she sounds adorable, trying to look so tough.

But, he figures, she asked an honest question and deserves an honest answer. "I'm James."

[megatechbody]

Mariko cracks a weak smile despite herself, because any adult who would laugh instead of yell at her for being unladylike was okay in her book.

"Grown-ups." she says slyly, shrugging a little. "They forget I'm around sometimes so I hear all kinds of stuff when they think I can't hear them."

She throws the rock, skipping it along the surface of the water.

"Hi James." Pointedly not giving her name, her eyes widen a little - it's hard to tell if it's excitement or fear. "Are you from the military base?"

[frostythehitman]

He returns the sly grin. "That's grown-ups for you--always underestimating."

He watches the rock skip across the water. It seems to be going further than her earlier attempts. "You mean Fort McCoy? Yeah, I live there."

That's not typically information he'd forfeit, not even to a child, but it's already fairly common knowledge to many people, apparently, that James lives in Fort McCoy. Saying it now doesn't exactly reveal anything.

10%

[theveilisin]

He doesn't want to disturb her at first. He's got enough experience reading the body language of preteens to know when something is bothering them. So he sits down quietly some distance away, feeling like an intruder, but also not sure where he is or where he would even go.

After a little while he lets out a small whistle at one of the better throws, smiling. "Quite impressive." He knows his voice can sometimes frighten kids, as harsh and gravelly as it is with the voice prosthesis. So he stays where he is for now. "I had an old friend who used to be quite good at that. Never had the knack myself."

[megatechbody]

Mariko doesn't startle properly, but the turn of her head towards him is slow. She moves like she didn't expect anyone else here, like she half expects him to disappear. Her gaze flicks over him, unabashed in it's assessment until finally she seems to make an assessment.

"Thanks." Her tone isn't ungrateful, exactly, but she's not used to seeing non-family adults - much less foreigners. "Who are you?"