Downtime Log - Intro

[locomodo]

Log 01 Downtime Intro
Maybe you were walking to class, or riding into battle, or at your father's funeral, or gazing into the abyss as you brush your teeth and think about your waning youth. Maybe you're from 1000 years ago, or the far-flung future. But it doesn't matter how different you are, because all passengers will wake up sprawled on the same floor of the same car...


The Perfectly Average Everyday Normal Train Car

As characters stir from their slumber, they'll notice their new(?) phones vibrating in their pockets. An unread message is waiting for them...

FROM: clownductor one

Welcome to the Existential Express, car #83045029342000001.

[CHARACTER NAME] is currently engaged in Tutorial Mode.

Objectives:
> Read the Existential Express (E2) brochure.
> Access the user directory and send a message.
> Ask one of the other passengers to be your friend.
> Find the exit door.

By completing car objectives, passengers may proceed through the exit and onto the next car.

Thank you for riding with the Existential Express. Please enjoy your journey into the great unknown.

>>>>SUBJECT: New Passengers
How is that? I attempted to make it sound welcoming.

The message, strangely, cuts off there. The brochure goes over all the basic 'what is a train' questions people may have, but nothing else.

However, characters may find that the exit door is locked until they complete the objectives, so it's icebreaker time! On the bright side, it seems this is a dining car, so there's a few nice plates of treats and a bar that magically serves beverages when people make orders. The exit door will be locked until the objectives are complete! (Please see OOC notes below for more details.)

In any case, when they unlock the door and move on through the exit, there is a walkway to the next car. Please watch your step, and check out the FAQ for more details on trying to leave the train!

Immediately proceeding the intro car is...


The Land of Corginia Car

As characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…

> Lend a helping paw.



Because this historical city is occupied with... dogs! Mostly corgis. They are smart, verbal, and very good boys and girls. The dogs are happy to play with anyone, and will also help passengers get to anywhere they want to go. The car itself is basically Rome, with low doorways and ceilings.

And because corgis do have short legs and zero thumbs, they will sometimes need and ask for assistance. For example, you and a partner may need to help the corgis cross a river, give them belly rubs, or reach a ball on a high shelf. They are easily distracted, squirmy little babies and will make life very difficult, but they're just so darn cute!


The Museum Car

(tw: body horror)

As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…

> Complete yourself.



As passengers enter this car, they'll find themselves feeling notably lighter. This might be because they're suddenly missing a leg, or perhaps an arm, or their eyes, or tongue. Whatever it may be, a part of them has been taken away. There's no pain, or danger to their lives from the missing part, it simply isn't there.

It's been whisked away and hidden somewhere in the musty old museum that they've found themselves in. Luckily, it's currently closed, so there's nothing stopping them from raiding everything in sight! The displays span all manner of topics, from history to biology to space. Passengers might even find displays on familiar historical events or persons from their home worlds as they search—the collection is seemingly endless! Just watch out, because sometimes objects (and body parts) will come to life and lunge through the glass at anyone who walks a little too close.

NOTE: Characters can snipe items from the display cases in the museum! However, they'll discover the items are actually toy replicas made of flimsy plastic. They're completely non-functional and will break if handled too roughly.


The Birth of the Wind Car

As the characters enter the car, their phones will notify them of a new objective…

> Collect all the korogu seeds.



The world that lies ahead of the passengers is vast and lush; a spectacle of nature that spans snow-capped mountains, dense forests, deserts, and lakes. Aside from unusually large and extremely territorial fauna (1, 2, 3), the car appears devoid of any signs of civilization, and passengers might think themselves completely alone…

… Until they hear the tinkling of a bell, and a cheery, "yahaha!" in the distance. Upon closer inspection, the car is in fact populated by small, wooden creatures known as korogus (here). They hide at the tops of trees and mountains, on lone islands in large lakes, and under rocks. Once a passenger stumbles across their hiding place—whether knowingly or otherwise—they'll appear in a puff of magic holding a golden korogu seed. Simply finding them isn't enough for them to hand over the precious item however, and they'll require passengers to offer up one truth in exchange for a seed. And don't bother lying, they'll give you a solid bonk on the head and disappear if you do!


Numbers

Numbers! Everyone starts with one that glows on their bodies — as a fun thread mechanic, we suggest they're somewhere visible, but it's up to you!



Because while this is not IC knowledge yet, numbers are determined by how troubled your character is. This may be based on their past actions and crimes, but also alienating habits, regrets, personality flaws, trauma, etc — a higher number does not necessarily mean they're a bad person, but it may signify a difficult time in their life, or substantial personal issues.

Numbers change as characters work through their issues... which we'll cover next time! However, for this log, please note that numbers will remain static. They may flicker or warp occasionally, but don't worry about them going up or down for the intro! As a bonus, numbers can glow in any color you would like.


OOC Notes

Car Order: While the cars are linear and in the order shown, characters can freely move between these four cars for the next three weeks — players may assume 1:1 IC:OOC time ratio.

Locks: Passengers may follow other characters out of cars after they've been unlocked — so in general, players can assume optional cars on downtime months are unlocked if they don't want to play in them. Likewise, if your character ICly would not participate in a car but you still want to play with those prompts, you can assume they're locked in and must complete objectives. Feel free to pick and choose what you'd like to play from any downtime log!

Update: We will also have a small update in the coming weeks — the setting won't change, but there will be a few more (optional!) aspects to play with later.

Feel free to direct questions to our Discord help channel. Welcome to Locomo, and have fun!

---

locomo e2 traincation

FAQ & Game Info / Calendar / Taken
Applications / Reserves / Hiatus & Drops



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Comments

[mugen]

[From the moment Satoru first awoke on the train, he sensed Suguru's energy. He knew, as he sat up to look at the other passengers around him, that there was no mistaking it, just as there had been no mistaking it back when Suguru made his first move toward his inevitable demise: the cursed energy woven throughout the car meant that Suguru's body was on the train. It meant that somewhere within reach, it was seeing, feeling, breathing — and avoiding him.

What Satoru did not know as he casually scanned through the brochure and began his journey, annoying his way through passenger after passenger in an attempt to catch up with the bearer of that cursed energy, is whether it was the real Suguru — or whether his mistakes had been dragged into this train car with him, his one and only true misstep to be lorded over him by a conductor who might as well be a higher-up, with how he summoned Satoru here to deal with two very big problems from his world.

Because only a short time ago, Satoru was staring at Suguru's body, sensing his cursed energy, and knowing, without a shadow of a doubt, that the person staring back at him was not truly Suguru.

So as Satoru engaged in antics, as he smiled and laughed and ate whatever sweet treats the train provided — as he made his way through people and robots and dogs — he pursued, in his own way, the answer to that very important question: who is it that won't let him within reach?

Hindered without some of his more convenient, but less necessary, abilities, Satoru's progress was slower than it should have been. But there was more holding him back than his inability to teleport or hover in air — more than the necessary conservation of his energy and his inability to heal himself.

Even now, with the weight of his mistakes and their consequences on his shoulders, with Suguru's life ended and his body taken from him, with Satoru successfully captured, once an unthinkable feat — even now, there is only one person who has ever made Satoru hesitate.

And with no victims piled along the back of the train cars, with no network chatter about a dangerous monk, with no sign of Suguru using his curses to cause trouble — Satoru hesitates.

Without the prison realm in play, Satoru can easily take care of whoever holds Suguru's body hostage. But if it's Suguru, really Suguru, there is no easy that fits into Satoru's equation. There is only an if statement, followed by the weighted word again.

So when their game of cat-and-mouse draws to a close and Satoru plants himself on the museum floor, he is not only tired because he can't refresh his energy, nor because he's kept his barrier up since his arrival in anticipation of this encounter. Satoru is tired because he's still, after all these years, chasing a ghost. He's still looking for Suguru in places where he shouldn't be: outside of jujutsu society, in a bloodied alleyway, in a train station, and here, aboard the Existential Express.

Eyeless as he may currently be, Satoru isn't without his other senses. He lacks the ability to perceive cursed energy, but he can still feel it when it approaches. He can still identify it, though there is only darkness before him, a Suguru-shaped space carved into it by memory alone.

Maybe it's the distance that Suguru wisely keeps between them — one that reminds Satoru of a rainy day years ago, where they stood on opposite sides and spoke of remembering — or maybe it's the sentence he speaks, the answer he gives in the form of another question —

Or maybe it's just that Satoru has never needed eyes to know him.

But as Suguru stands there, Satoru knows the truth.

This confirmation brings with it a wave of memories still fresh from their last resurgence, a heavy feeling that settles on Satoru's chest, and a doubling down on a resolve that Satoru thought he would never have to muster again.

Not that he allows any of this to show through his casual sprawl. He is still Satoru — still prepared to meet this situation with as much levity as he would afford a conversation about the weather or a discussion about lunch.]

You count.

[Because as far as interesting goes, his once-dead best friend ranks higher than his eyes. As vital as those organs may be, he's had them his whole life; he's only had Suguru for a fraction of that time.

He faces Suguru as he says this, following the sound of his voice and the impression given off by his cursed energy. He pretends he sees him, because though Satoru could take Suguru in his current condition, the knowledge that his eyes are somewhere to be claimed is dangerous in the hands of any curse user — especially one that Satoru killed.

(And it has been so long since Satoru communicated any vulnerability to Suguru, no matter how small; to go down that path again would be more dangerous than acknowledging his missing pieces.)]

I didn't expect you to give up the game so soon.

[Nor to seek him out here, like this, on his own accord; even if Suguru knows that he is without his eyes, he of all people is aware that Satoru is still incredibly dangerous. This is a risk.

But maybe it's because he knows Satoru that he chooses to take it — because Satoru's next move is not that of a sorcerer facing an opponent.

He grins, as though there isn't all this time and space between them — as though the last time he looked upon Suguru, the real Suguru, he wasn't deathly still beneath his hands.]

I win.

[(Yo, he might have said once. It's been a while. But those words are no longer theirs.)]

[ascends]

[you count. the expected response—because suguru supposes that he is interesting, in some odd way; a restored, reanimated corpse is the sort of medical marvel that would send shoko reaching for her scalpel, but with satoru, it's more than that? it's as complicated as their past ties; it's as simple as the fact that, by somehow evading death, suguru is now living proof of satoru's failure.

(and suguru, despite himself, remembers those lazy days in the dorm, putting his reading on pause to watch satoru try whatever new game he'd picked up. it never took satoru long to master them; he was as quick at picking up new controls as he was at picking up everything else, but occasionally he would lose—and he would make something of a production out of it? tipping his head back against the bed to whine about whatever cheap shot took him out, waiting for suguru to goad him into giving it another try.)

but even as satoru shifts about—even as suguru once again takes stock of his curses, finding them lacking—suguru remains still, searching the bit of satoru's face that is visible. he knows what it's like to fail; he'd felt the shame of it as he'd leaned against that wall not so very long ago, though it had been tempered, somewhat, by a strange sense of relief. at least it was satoru, in the end.

at least it was satoru.

which is not to say that suguru has any intention of dying again. he is prepared to do what he must, if it comes down to it—but for now he hums, as though he's graciously granting satoru this point.]

You always were a sore loser.

[and thus i let you win, that tone implies. the type of tease that was friendly, once, but has since taken on new meaning. dangerous.

but less dangerous than the question he asks next, as his eyes linger on that blindfold.]

And your prize?

[after all, that's how their games used to work. impossible for suguru to forget, thanks to the charm tucked somewhere on his person.]

[mugen]

[Facing Suguru and the knowledge that he lives yet again does feel keenly like failure, but not simply because Satoru's death sentence did not stick — not merely because the most difficult decision of his life has been undone as though it never happened at all, insignificant in how easily it was washed away. His real failure lies in the after, the place and time he left behind, where Suguru's body walks and talks with Satoru in tow.

Once, this was something that Satoru would have confessed to Suguru, the only person who ever truly seemed to understand that despite Satoru's title as The Strongest, literally untouchable, he is still fallible. After all, how many times had Satoru returned after a difficult mission, worn down in the days before he could use his self-reverse, his head pounding from using his Six Eyes, only to pass out in Suguru's bed, a display of vulnerability he would afford no other? Hadn't there been a time when he looked Suguru in the eye and admitted, in an empty voice, I messed up?

But those days ended long before Satoru took Suguru's life.

This is, therefore, a worst case scenario: that Satoru screwed up bad enough to leave Suguru ripe for the taking, and now he must face the very person that he wronged. Killing Suguru, as difficult as it had been — as terrible as it stands to be all over again, should he be forced to repeat history — was an inevitability that Satoru had put off as long as possible. He knew it had to happen, and he knew it had to be at his hand. And hearing him speak and breathe now, among the living once more, will not become another tally on the list of Satoru's regrets, no matter how badly this too may end. Satoru only regrets his weaknesses: that he did not burn Suguru's body as he should have, and offer him the peace he deserved. That when he yelled out to Suguru's body, it responded because it remembered, and it knew.

So yes, Suguru is proof of Satoru's mistakes, but they no longer exist in a place when such feelings can be communicated. Satoru faces Suguru and pretends he can see his failings, and smiles in the face of them, acting as though they aren't there at all.]

It's no fun if I have to pick.

[It's nearly a whine, not unlike those he may have delivered in the past, on the heels of some meaningless video game loss.

But he hears that razor's edge hidden within Suguru's words, the near-taunt that hints toward a challenge, as though Satoru wouldn't have caught up to him eventually — as though he's only in Suguru's presence now by the grace of his patience. And he wonders, idly, how much Suguru knows — if he has seen his eyes. If he is aware that this train can mess with a sorcerer's techniques.

All the more reason for Satoru keep tabs on Suguru, to put aside the pain of memory as he had back when he look Suguru's life, and to incline his head toward floor beside him.]

How about a talk?

[As his reward — as an attempt at figuring out what this means for them both. As a way of avoiding getting up, so Satoru doesn't inadvertently give away his blindness.]

[ascends]

[their last meeting—what should have been their last meeting—remains fresh in suguru's mind. he remembers the final words spoken to him; he remembers the way they made him laugh, a sound so short and so weak that one might consider it little more than a labored breath, were they listening for it—but it was a laugh. a thing drawn straight from the heart, because that was always satoru's specialty: catching suguru by surprise without even intending to.

maybe, then, suguru should have expected this? satoru requesting a parley, of sorts, as his prize—and of course there are layers to this. pitfalls to avoid, for nothing in life is simple; less so in this new life that suguru has been granted, but as he watches satoru offer the "seat" nearest to him...

...it's excessive, is what it is. so perfectly excessive that it is, by extension, perfectly satoru—and as suguru is confronted by the sort of fact that should be uncomfortable, given all that they are, an amused huff escapes him all the same. a talk.]

A talk? [here? he casts a quick glance about this hall, noting just how many things are contained within. plenty of reason, he thinks, for people come barging in, searching for whatever it is they've lost; maybe that's the point.] If that's what you want.

[well. he'll play along for now, taking a step closer though he has no intention of sitting beside the person who's proven capable of killing him. there is nowhere left to run, at this point, and there is so much to address? if, that is, this talk is even the slightest bit productive; if satoru intends to talk at all.

(which he does, suguru thinks, for someone as powerful as satoru has no reason to rely upon trickery—and beyond even that, satoru remains satoru. the remnants of some strange trust remain between them, which proves to be just enough for suguru to take yet another slow, careful step forward.)]

I did have a prize in mind, you know.

[this, too, is a risk, given that satoru could interpret it as threat—but suguru's voice remains quiet, a hint of his earlier amusement remaining.]

[mugen]

[Prizes are supposed to be excessive.

Satoru had said that once, years back, and thinks of it now, as he hears Suguru's amused exhalation — as he listens to his reply and notes the slight rustle of fabric as Suguru looks around. This prize is misleading in its simplicity, considering what a talk between them represents — what it means, to let down their guards long enough to exchange words in peace, to go beyond the framework of games and prizes, and to discuss, in a rare moment of truce, what the future will look like on the train. Satoru isn't asking for mere words; he's saying, Put aside the fact that I killed you, and listen. He's telling Suguru to stop, for a moment, on the path he undoubtedly seeks to resume, and consider sitting beside an old friend.

He's telling him there's been something more to this game from the beginning, and regardless of who let whom win, it was always going to end this way: Suguru presented with a choice, a fork in the path that was once linear and set.

This prize, which he pretends he only just invented in response to a back-and-forth unearthed from their past, has been in the back of his mind all along.

Because Satoru, for all his antics and seemingly careless way of meandering through jujutsu society and this train both, plots for the future while actively being dismissed as a nuisance.

But there are wrenches that can be thrown into his plans: prison realms, for one. And now, Suguru's willingness to work with him. It remains an uncertainty, though just as Satoru trusted him once before, he chooses to trust him again — believes that there is still enough of the old Suguru within him to consider an offer.]

You should've said!

[An exclamation that Satoru would make whether he thought the prize was a threat or not, though he chooses to take it at face value, and is curious about what Suguru had in mind. This is followed by a disappointed sigh, during which Satoru spreads himself out on the floor, taking up even more space within the hall. He leans back on his hands and kicks his feet out. He doesn't think he's at risk of kicking Suguru, given the proximity of his voice, but his foot does happen to nudge Suguru's shoe, Satoru will play it off with a grin as if it was entirely intentional.]

Too late now. But...

[There's that head tilt again, yet another invitation to join Satoru in this lax sprawl. Suguru's choice to come closer without actually getting near Satoru is smart, and the fact that he is giving even this much should be seen as an inkling of progress toward Satoru's goal. But Satoru doesn't like half-measures, and his actual prize will require full commitment, so he pushes too far. He asks for a bigger gesture, though he is offering nothing of himself in return.]

Maybe I'll pick yours instead, if you're gonna stand around all day.

[But Suguru isn't the only one who would be flirting with peril by sitting next to him. This is, in a sense, a risk for Satoru as well — dangerous, because Suguru could learn that his eyes are somewhere for the taking, and unideal, because he's fatigued, and if Suguru sees that, he'll know that there are new limitations to what Satoru can do.

There are things that Suguru can learn by sitting beside him — and he is, perhaps, the only person who could identify these hindrances quickly, easily, no matter how flippantly Satoru behaves.

But the alternative is to resist the desire to push too far, to refrain from asking for too much, to refuse to be excessive —

and that would be much more suspicious in the end.]

[ascends]

[maybe someone else would mistake this prize as something simple, a spur-of-the-moment request—but suguru recognizes it for what it is: a neat dressing for something else entirely. an unorthodox form of diplomacy that only satoru would—could—attempt, because of the many sorcerers who know who suguru is and what suguru can do, how many would willingly invite him to talk? how many would be so confident as to sit on the floor and wait for suguru to sit beside them? only satoru, of course, for satoru is the strongest.

and because satoru knows that suguru is alone on this train, stripped of allies and resources; that suguru could never truly avoid him; that suguru was the person who looked past both his techniques and his persona, seeing that satoru was so much more. suguru never underestimated his friend.

that friendship is fractured, now. for so many reasons, the most important being suguru's decision to leave—but while he accepted the costs of his decisions? has come to terms with so many of them, throughout the years? as he steps over satoru's outstretched foot, coming ever closer to the spot he remains wary of taking, he still feels an ache deep within his chest. once upon a time, the space beside satoru was always, always reserved for him and him alone; suguru realizes, now, that he rarely gave it any thought.

but the present is more pressing than the past.]

As impatient as ever. [pfh. a wordless chide, though suguru knows that satoru has (presumably) followed him for days.] You could at least ask to see it, first.

[see. a carefully chosen word, as they both well know—but suguru doesn't linger on it, choosing instead to finally step just beside satoru. everything about this is foolish; he should have remained on the opposite side of the hall, watching and waiting, and yet, as he looks down at the person he's done his best to avoid in this brand new place—

—well.

lowering himself to the floor is somewhat awkward, thanks to his lack of an arm, but he manages it as smoothly as he can? positions himself far enough away to avoid satoru's infinity before he crosses his legs, choosing to remain a tad more dignified than his neighbor. being this close—it both does and does not feel right. suguru eyes the spot he was standing a few minutes before, wondering if that was precisely where he should have stayed.

but there's no backing down now, and so, as he turns his head just far enough to better see satoru's face:]

Should I congratulate your win?

[the win that is finding suguru in this car; the win that was killing suguru at last. same difference.]

[mugen]

[Every step toward that spot beside him is progress; every step forward invites more risk. Because the sound of Suguru's footfalls, the familiarity of his nearing presence, begin to feel something like promise, and nearly make Satoru feel like he can take for granted Suguru's cooperation in what Satoru intends on presenting to him. But Satoru learned long ago that for all he is The Strongest, able to expect success in battle after battle, there are some things even he can lose.

There is no room for hope between them; there is only Satoru's purpose in requesting this talk, and the resultant response.

Suguru's comment is therefore well-timed, because that see stands out as starkly as Suguru knows it will; it serves as a reminder that there are limitations to what Satoru can leverage in this situation. Suguru is still his enemy, and Satoru is still the one who killed him. Though Suguru is the one at a disadvantage in terms of strength and ability, holding Satoru's eyes hostage would give him an edge. A bargaining chip. A means to an end.

An expert at being calm no matter the circumstances, Satoru does not react at all, though he internally sharpens his attention; he does not know if Suguru is truly aware that he is missing his eyes, or if he has read it from the tells that would be apparent to no one else. He simply maintains his fluidity in his feigned observance of Suguru's approach.

Suguru ultimately chooses to sit, and while this is exactly what Satoru requested — hassled — him to do, it does not feel like a triumph. He does not feel as though he has obtained a success; this does not feel like a win worth celebrating.

Because by taking that seat — by subjecting himself to whatever Satoru may choose to throw at him in the next few moments, both in words and actions — Suguru has validated that small but still-present spark of trust that Satoru still holds for him. He has proven, yet again, that he's still Suguru deep down inside, and that he still retains enough trust of his own to risk Satoru's presence.

It is not a win because that heavy feeling that settled within Suguru's chest grows heavier; this gesture is what Satoru will remember, if he must put an end to Suguru in the future — again.

Hence his answer:]

Nah.

[Because he gets the double meaning in his words — the game to which Suguru is referring, which wasn't a game at all, and the result of which cost Satoru more than he would admit to anyone. And because it's not really over anymore, is it? Not with Suguru sitting beside him now, an imitation of the ways things once were. It doesn't feel like victory, and Satoru doesn't want to be congratulated for it.

But what he will accept, as he turns his head to pretend that he is looking at Suguru out of the corner of the eye he does not currently possess, a smiling playing upon his lips, is an old acknowledgement — something he hasn't heard in quite a while, as work for Satoru is rarely seen as hard and certainly not something most think to acknowledge.]

You could thank me for my hard work, though.

[It hadn't escaped his notice — the way it sounded when Suguru took his seat, and the way his cursed energy seems severed, somehow, not quite as full as it should be. Suguru is missing a piece of himself, too. Without his eyes, which remain outside of Satoru's currently dampened senses, he can't see what it is, but an image enters his mind — a memory. And though Satoru wouldn't go so far as to say his eyes are better off in a display case somewhere, it isn't so bad to be in a position where he can't confirm what he expects to see.

He easily breaks the moment, without leaving much space for Suguru to respond to his suggestion, sitting up straight and clapping his hands together once.]

First things first. What was my prize going to be?

[Obviously, he's disqualified from taking whatever it is, considering Suguru did take a seat. And even more obviously, he should have just let the topic of his would-be prize go, considering that Suguru dropped the word see on him a mere moment ago. But Satoru is still unapologetically himself — he still taunts danger to its face and believes in his ability to always maintain the upper hand, regardless of whatever he may lack.

And he still has only one very specific weakness.]

[ascends]

[the slow walk to suguru's destination bought him time to consider the many possible outcomes while also allowing him to steel himself for this? for the sight of satoru close enough to touch, were such a thing possible. it was, once. satoru allowed suguru to come closer to him than anyone else, proof of all that they were, all that they hoped to be—but now their physical proximity only serves to highlight the distance between them.

(and yet suguru can't help but to think of the last time satoru dropped his barrier, seeking to bridge said distance. suguru can feel it still: satoru's hand closing over his, rain-chilled but still warm.)

...such thoughts, however, are dangerous, especially as suguru studies the smile soon directed his way. another thing suguru accepted, but failed to fully understand when he committed to his path all those years ago: cutting ties with someone does not erase them from your mind. every gesture, every quirk, every tell—they remain tucked away somewhere, silent until something sends them springing to the surface.

and that something, in this moment, is not a something that suguru could ever hope to accurately describe, because satoru is acting as he always did. anyone who knows satoru would take one look at him, sitting on this floor, and think nothing at all was amiss—but suguru looks at him? looks past what is expected to see what this show is costing satoru. the actual effort behind it. you could thank me for my hard work.

...well. this was always suguru's specialty, wasn't it? spotting that which everyone else missed, when it came to satoru; spotting that which satoru attempted to hide. suguru wonders, briefly, if satoru expected this particular skill of his to have dulled over time.

he doubts it. this is yet another display of something akin to trust.

but suguru distracts himself from such a thought by reaching into his robes, awkwardly feeling for the "prize" he'd neatly tucked far, far away after realizing that it had, for whatever reason, made this journey with him. such a silly trinket. it should be sitting in a drawer somewhere.]

Something annoying.

[something suguru is, therefore, rather fond of, though he's careful to tightly wrap his fingers around it before pulling it free. what makes it annoying is what would give it away—but he manages to bring it out into the open without it making a sound? allows it to rest in the center of his palm as he holds his hand between them, the frog's small, blank eyes staring right back at him.

until, of course, he shifts his eyes back to satoru's face, waiting for even the slightest hint of recognition—that will never come. suguru knows what is missing, now; this is merely a show of his own.

(and if satoru attempts to reach for it, suguru will be quick to close his hand.)]

Would it be worth your hard work?

[mugen]

[Satoru is listening.

He hears the shifting of fabric, the way that Suguru moves his robes to go in search of the object in question. Satoru waits for the reveal he knows he will not be able to see, and tries to determine what it could be. Something small enough to fit hidden away on his person — something Satoru likely would not have been able to tell he was carrying, or Suguru would have expected him to call it out earlier.

And something annoying, not unlike Satoru himself.

But there is no sound to give away a hint, and Suguru offers nothing of his own beyond a callback to a time and place long ago. But Satoru cannot see the shape in his palm, nor can he feel any energy emanating from it. Suguru has successfully called his bluff, and they both know it.

His impulse is to reach out. It's a move he would make under any other circumstances. Satoru reacting in that way would be normal, and Suguru must anticipate it — a scuffle, like in the old days, with him keeping something away and Satoru lunging for it. The two of them tumbling to the floor as they struggle over something stupid, until they break apart to laugh, with Suguru handing it over anyway, as they both knew he would all along.

But he holds back, and not because he's functionally blind. A fight without his eyes would not be ideal, but Satoru retains his other abilities. He does not need to see to win. But rather, to touch the prize would mean letting it through his Infinity — normally an easy task, something Satoru can do with little effort, but that would take precious energy from his dwindling supply. If this, or any of his other interactions in this car, leads to a situation where he has to fight, he needs as much of his energy as he can spare. And in keeping his Infinity active all this time, he has already used up enough of it to feel fatigued. It's been a long time since he last had to consider the toll his abilities take; given some of the threats on the train, he needs to be smart about how he uses them.]

You're the one who likes annoying things.

[To someone who happens to be walking by at that moment, it may sound like a rejection of what is offered. Satoru turns his head away from where he is pretending to look, away from the palm that he knows is held before him, the mysterious prize brandished in a way that undoubtedly seeks to confirm his current limitations.

But the words are more than that. They're an acknowledgement of a memory, of a conversation that they had years ago. They're not turning down the gift, but rather, accepting this test for what it is. Satoru is admitting, without outright saying it, that Suguru is correct — there is now no point in doing otherwise, because the moment of recognition passes before Satoru can assess how to react — and offering, in turn, an acceptance of what the prize should have somehow represented, if he could see it. If he knew what it was.]

I was hoping it'd be something sweet.

[He assumes it isn't, as sweets aren't annoying, certainly not to Satoru, whose sweet tooth rivals that of young children. And truth be told, a piece of candy would be great right about now.

He sighs. That smile is still on his lips. Satoru directs his attention upward, to a ceiling he can't see.]

Guess I've got no choice.

[And he really doesn't have a choice, presented with this confirmation of what Suguru now knows. He cannot accept the prize that Suguru offers in lieu of the one he suggested, because Suguru is now much more dangerous with the knowledge that he holds — with the vulnerability he now knows Satoru harbors. And while Satoru has invited him to sit beside him knowing the risks, in a temporary truce, as a form of that still-unforgotten trust that exists between them, that trust is limited. It has to be, because Satoru has seen with his own lost eyes the lengths that Suguru is willing to go to reach his goals — and he knows these trains are not filled with jujutsu sorcerers.

Though Suguru may be without his allies, he is still capable of hurting others.

And Satoru, his biggest obstacle, is restrained in ways he hasn't been since they were teenagers. Even more so, now that he cannot see.]

I'll go with my first pick.

[ascends]

[this is exactly as suguru thought it would be: satoru directing his attention downward, doing his best to hone in on suguru's palm without seeing it or what rests within it. there is no way to pretend otherwise; satoru has little choice but to admit what suguru already knows, and suguru—well. suguru is left with all the choices in the world, really, because if satoru's eyes truly are somewhere in this car, then suguru could find them; he could take them; he could squirrel them away somewhere, or use them as a bargaining chip, or destroy them entirely. a satoru sans eyes is still dangerous, yes, but somewhat more manageable.

and yet suguru glances down at the charm he continues to hold between them, wondering how satoru would react, if he could see it. what expression would flash across satoru's face. if satoru would think him silly for holding onto such an small thing when he let go of things that were so much bigger.

but there's little point to thinking about such things, which is why suguru slowly closes his fingers over the cheerful little frog. hiding it from himself, and himself alone.]

I thought so.

[simple acknowledgment—of satoru's choice and satoru's situation—as he pulls his hand back, letting it rest, lightly, atop his knee. the many unpleasant possibilities continue to hang between them; it would be a lie to say that suguru is not turning them over in his mind, considering what would be best in the long run, but again: nothing in this life is simple. no decision involving satoru gojo is ever easy.

and there is stull much of this train to see. acting rashly now could cost suguru everything all over again, so rather than focus on one method of victory—a lesson he only recently relearned—suguru decides the best course of action is to stay the course.

(and beyond that? there is the fact that what satoru said is true: suguru does like annoying things.)]

Then what should we talk about? [and he can hear it all over again: it's no fun if i have to pick. even if this conversation proves to be serious, suguru wouldn't put it above satoru to fall back on silly antics; it's easier, suguru is sure, than remaining serious in the face of what is now in the open, and so, almost patiently:] This is your prize.

[and he's already said his last words.]

[mugen]

[There is a moment that passes, when he hears the soft contact of skin meeting skin, the sound of Suguru quietly closing his hand, that Satoru braces himself. He doesn't tense, nor does he react in any outward way except to slightly tilt his head to listen for movement at his side. But he waits for Suguru's choice: to stay and honor the "rules" of the game by granting Satoru his prize, or to take this confirmation of Satoru's missing eyes and go seek them out himself.

If he were to rise, Satoru would have to follow. And eventually, whether here in his car or later down the line, they would have to fight.

He assumes that Suguru is considering his options — the cost of staying over leaving, what it would mean to draw a new line in the sand, to reestablish their connection as enemies only. Maybe he's filing this information away for later, when their conversation comes to an end. But Satoru once sent students after Suguru knowing — trusting — that he retained enough of the Suguru he knew to refrain from killing them. And likewise, Satoru gives him the space to make his choice, to decide what he wants most in this moment — out of that remaining sense of trust.

It's a lot to ask of him, and Satoru is aware of that, too. He once had Suguru's blood on his hands, once held his body in his arms — and he might, again, if Suguru pursues the non-sorcerers on this train, and if Satoru has to stop him here, just as he had to back in their world. Suguru could try to return the favor, and this may very well be his best chance; Satoru will be more formidable later, after he finds his eyes.

So the moment is heavy, weighted, and feels long despite being brief, though to anyone else, Satoru still looks like the annoyance he is. He still sits seemingly without a care in the world, carefree in demeanor and expression both.

Except, when Suguru makes his choice by asking that question, Satoru's smile turns a shade softer, in the way that it would have years ago, upon seeing Suguru for the first time after a long mission — in a way that only one other person could notice. And only for a moment, because then Satoru is gathering himself into a more reasonable sitting positon, pulling one leg to himself and resting his arm on his knee.

Suguru is right, of course, in assuming that Satoru's preloaded reply is to drag this out — to complain, talk about nonsense, and maybe even try to keep Suguru here long enough for someone to walk by with his eyes in tow. The conversation is serious, but Satoru rarely approaches important topics with the gravitas they deserve, especially if they may imply that there are additional vulnerabilities in play.

And so, with that gentle prompting, he does cut to the chase, in the sense that he doesn't attempt to turn the conversation back around on Suguru. But he does it with the frivolity of an old friend catching up on gossip, rather than with the solemnity that most other jujutsu sorcerers might afford the subject of one very big problem.

He cheerfully says:]

I made a friend.

[ascends]

[it was so often the little things, with satoru. suguru was the best at spotting them, rarely distracted by satoru's obnoxious demeanor—and thus he catches that slight shift that others would surely miss? the ghost of the softness that once existed between them. it is a mistake, sitting here; suguru is suddenly certain that he should be anywhere else.

but satoru shifts about, making himself more comfortable before offering up something that is, when taken at face value, so trivial as to be insignificant. they all made a "friend" in that first car; this is hardly news—except that it must be news, if this is how satoru is choosing to start this conversation. someone besides suguru happened to catch satoru's attention, and suguru thinks, instantly, of the cursed energy he's sensed from car to car. always on the periphery; an aberration suguru intended to double back to check, once satoru was dealt with, but now—

—hmm. suguru just barely tilts his head, seeking an angle that will allow him to keep closer watch on satoru's expression.]

Oh? [how curious.] You never were very good at that.

[he was always better at annoying others, leaving suguru to smooth everything over—or others were simply too intimidated to approach, or had preconceived notions of how satoru should act, or too often took satoru at face value. the list could go on, but the list is not what makes this supposed friend so curious.]

Do they have a name?

[mugen]

[It's true: Satoru's personality makes him a lacking candidate for friendship. He has coworkers, students, potential allies...but he doesn't really have friends. The people around him tolerate him, fear him, or treat him like something to be revered. Some of them occasionally indulge him, but Satoru tends to wear them down. It takes a rare person to not only befriend Satoru but also want to keep him around, because being friends with Satoru means poking and prodding, antics that would exhaust any reasonable person, and obnoxious behaviors that can only be stomached for so long.

There has only ever been one person who truly chose to subject himself to everything that Satoru is — who looked beyond his strength and annoying ways, and who could understand Satoru when he forwent words for attention-seeking behavior. The same person who, for that very reason, Satoru would still call his best friend, despite everything that transpired between them.

That person sits beside him now, proving his acceptance of everything that Satoru is by talking, listening, and understanding what Satoru is communicating without outright saying it — accepting this temporarily truce though he has little motivation to do so.

And so Satoru tests the patience that Suguru has always afforded him by withholding that piece of information and saying simply:]

Yeah.

[Suguru will find out the name, whether Satoru tells him or he seeks out the source of the cursed energy himself. But the story of said friend goes beyond this train, and Satoru has to be careful about how much he reveals. He doesn't know how what will happen after they escape this train, and while Satoru does not want to believe that Suguru would do anything other than swallow the King of Curses if given the chance — he remembers Suguru targeting the school. He remembers the sacrifices that Suguru made to seek his goals.

Satoru's trust exists, but it is conditional, and he draws the line at potentially endangering his students.

He draws the line at endangering the people on this train.

So having established that there is an additional problem, Satoru moves on to his real request, far larger than the simple desire to have a talk.

He says:]

I've been thinking it's about time we work together again.

[This in and of itself is not a remark about the strength of the enemy who lurks in this car trains, but an admission of a further problem — of something that may render Satoru unable to take care of the problems from his world on his own. He is admitting that for the first time since their teenage years, Satoru — the sorcerer who thrives when he has no one to hold him back — needs a partner.

He cannot work alone.

So in suggesting this — in presenting this offhanded comment as though he's feeling nostalgic — Satoru is taking another risk.

If he could, he'd rely on the allies he's slowly trying to collect, and teach them like he does his students. But without his self-reverse technique, he only has so much time before he'll need to drop his Infinity and recharge. And if something goes awry, and Satoru's out of energy, he won't be able to protect anyone.

Attempting to team up with Suguru would require deep and unbreakable assurances, but it would mean that Suguru would no longer be a concern. Instead of Satoru having to keep close tabs on two enemies, there would only be one. And that's one they could face together if need be.

His face, as usual, doesn't give much away at all. It's as cheerful and conversational as it always is, and pretends to watch Suguru as if he'll be able to see his reaction. He imagines Suguru's expression as it was when they were teens, a brief show of concern — Suguru asking if he needs to sleep, if he's okay, and Satoru punching his shoulder in response to say, I'm good man.

He knows that's not how Suguru would openly look at him now. There's too much for him to consider from this singular statement: the potential that is a somehow vulnerable Satoru, the risk and opportunity provided by the existence of another threat, and what, exactly, Satoru will request from him as proof of his willingness to play nice with the non-sorcerers on the train.

But still he asks:]

Whaddya think?

[Lazily, his words stringing together, as he reaches across his body to punch Suguru's shoulder, despite the fact that he can't see exactly where his fist will land, despite the barrier that prevents true contact — reminding him that they've done this before. They can do it again.

Suguru can do it again.]

[ascends]

[a non-answer is an answer in its own right, even if suguru would have liked—but did not necessarily expect—more. there are, after all, many reasons for withholding a name, ranging from the hope that suguru will seek it out on his own to the hope that suguru will not learn it for quite some time. suguru doubts that satoru's reasoning has much to do with the former; suguru is willing to bet that satoru's reasoning has everything to do with the latter, because it makes sense, given what they are. the remnants of a long-fractured trust can only be stretched so far.

but then it becomes a question of why satoru would mention this at all. to hint about an ally? to warn about a potential threat? which would be curious, given satoru's current state. anything that poses a risk to satoru should—would—be of interest to suguru, even if it poses a risk to himself, for they seem to have an abundance of time on this train; suguru should be able to work out some manner of approach.

...the true answer is somewhere. suguru is more than capable of finding it, if given enough time—but he is trapped here for the time being, waiting and watching for satoru's next move. if he won't offer a name, then what will he offer? an abrupt pivot, suguru expects. he always favored those.

and true to form, satoru does take the conversation in an entirely new direction—and an unexpected one, at that. one that suguru finds himself altogether unprepared for, though he knows, on some level, that he shouldn't be—because it makes sense, in some roundabout way. they worked well together, when they were younger; they are aware of, and can compensate for, one another's shortcomings; they are trapped on this train, and thus they presumably share the same goal: to escape it.

(not to mention the convenience that is removing an enemy from the playing field. working together, even in the barest sense, means playing nice—so long as certain rules are followed. suguru can guess as to which rules satoru would insist he follow.)

but the true significance of such an offer is not lost on suguru. he remembers that year in which the greatest duo simply because the greatest; he remembers listening to satoru explain his mastery of his techniques, realizing, for the first time, that satoru truly was the strongest. there was no longer a need for suguru to keep watch, to remain close—and now, suddenly, there is. satoru is no longer capable of shouldering everything alone.

suguru should be pleased.

he is, on some level. a weakened satoru—outside of this one car, no less—is something to celebrate; it gives suguru greater impetus to act alone, allowing the chips to fall where they may.

and yet.

satoru's fist strikes him slightly off-center, knuckles catching the very edge of his shoulder—and this is another thing that suguru is unprepared for? this reminder of how things used to be, when satoru wouldn't have needed to ask for suguru's help—because suguru would have known. suguru would have been by satoru's side before satoru could say so much as a single word.

...there is nothing to be done about the choices that were made; there is nothing to do about the muffled ting of the charm trapped within suguru's fingers, though he swiftly tightens his hold, hoping to prevent anything more from slipping through. what does he think? what does he think.

first: a breath, slow in and slow out, as he considers what this conversation alone is costing satoru? in various ways, and for various reasons. then, after determining that it is surely more than satoru is willing to admit:]

I think you're tired, [he says, matter-of-factly, as he lifts his hand from his knee, bringing it to the front of his robes. one barely audible chime was enough; it's time for this charm to go back where it belongs, albeit carefully.] I think you're worried. I think I'm not the only reason why.

[the train, the cars, the people within, the "friend" that satoru refuses to name—all things for satoru to stress about, and for suguru to take full advantage of, if needs must. but there is something for suguru to take advantage of here, as well, which is why, in a somewhat lighter tone (as though he is wholly unaffected):]

Don't you want to work with your friend?

[once again, suguru expects little in terms of an actual response—but he's making a point.]

[mugen]

[It's too easy, returning to the small gestures that they used to pepper throughout their friendship: a pat on the floor, a punch on the shoulder, a nudge on the arm. It feels familiar, nearly comfortable, in how easily Satoru delivers it and Suguru accepts it — in how, for the span of a breath, it almost feels like they've gone back in time.

But whereas before these gestures were delivered without thought — whereas Satoru did not hinge his actions on proposals and considerations, but merely moved on impulse — now there exists a layer of time and space between them. They are separated by the infinite — still severed by all the choices they made before, and all the choices they will make in the future. One request will not bridge that gap; one proposal will not allow Suguru through Satoru's barrier. One agreement will not erase the past.

Because Satoru hasn't, and will not, lose sight of the fact that Suguru is an enemy. The still-present trust he holds for Suguru is fragile, layered with contingencies, and based entirely upon what he knows Suguru will not do — rather than what he will. Because Suguru is still a curse user, murderer, and Satoru's enemy. Because he knows that Suguru is weighing his options and thinking about what it will mean, when Satoru ends a long day with a pounding headache, tired, with no one to keep watch while he recharges.

And that's why Satoru has broached this topic now, before Suguru learns all there is to know about Sukuna, and before Satoru reaches his limit. If Satoru can protect the people on this train by teaming up with Suguru, pulling him from the opposite side to stand along with him, however temporarily, then Satoru can conserve the energy he would use on keeping tabs on him — and put it toward the other threats on this train, and to the overall goal of escape.

He remembers Suguru in his final moments. He remembers Suguru in the in between, drenched in rain. He remembers Suguru as a student. And he hears the muffled ting of a bell that is familiar, somehow — out of place, distant, but audible enough that Satoru's mind identifies it as significant.

And he knows, somewhere inside of Suguru's twisted, broken sense of morality, there remains fractured pieces of what once was.

That ting does not echo; it is cut off, hidden, replaced with blunt words — but Satoru will remember it.]

I don't think my friend wants to work with me.

[Spoken vaguely, it could mean either "friend" in question: the King of Curses, who wants to make good on his promise to kill Satoru, or Suguru himself, who identifies Satoru's proposal for the admission of vulnerability that it is, and spares no words in pointing it out.]

But that's a mistake.

[Because Satoru may be weak and limited in what he can do here, he may be restrained in this room by being unable to see, and may still feel that sense of fondness for what once was, the ting of memory, but he is still capable of fighting — he will still use the power he does have. And while a match between Suguru and himself may be more equal now than it would have been at any time in the decade that they were apart, there is one stark, painful truth that remains between them:

Satoru has killed Suguru before. If Suguru forces his hand, he will kill him again.

And he will grieve him again.

Satoru stands. His ability to navigate the museum is compromised, but he transitions to give Suguru a way out. He's lain the cards he wants to show out on the table, and now Suguru must decide his next play.

He stretches, rolling his neck and folding his hands behind his head, nearly taking out a display case in the process — unconcerned about whatever may be caught by his carelessness.]

Either way, things are about to get a lot more fun.

[Fun, deadly, dangerous —

like old times.]

[ascends]

[the vagueness of satoru's response is not lost on suguru; he recognizes that this is as much a warning for himself as it is the mysterious "friend," but it still answers one of suguru's questions? provides him with another, potentially viable path, if he chooses to spurn satoru's offer—which is good. there are now two doors before him; he can open whichever one he pleases, at the cost of permanently closing the other.

...such a decision should not be made lightly, especially in a place as strange as this. there are far too many unknown variables; there is the knowledge that satoru may be the key to uncovering a majority of them, his weakened abilities still the perfect complement to suguru's weakened abilities.

(and there is also the knowledge that, if they both escape this train, satoru will once again pose the largest risk to suguru's family, suguru's goals. satoru once hesitated for a decade; he will not make that mistake twice.)

but satoru stands, somewhat clumsily, before suguru can speak, apparently calling an end to this temporary truce. to search for his eyes, suguru is sure—and as suguru can see, suguru could help. a gesture for a gesture. proof that suguru deserves the small amount of trust that satoru has offered him, and that maybe, just maybe, at least half of satoru's warning was unwarranted.

except that it wasn't, and thus suguru remains where he is? silently watches a blinded satoru almost knock over someone's something, his hand still resting over the charm that is now safely tucked away. fun.]

You would say that.

[spoken quietly, with an undercurrent of something that suguru couldn't hide if he tried, because even weakened and running on fumes—satoru would. but despite that—despite the charm he can just barely feel, hidden beneath layers of fabric—suguru thinks of all that he has yet to do.]

I look forward to learning more about your friend.

[whether it's information that satoru chooses to share—or information that suguru uncovers on his own. either way.]

[mugen]

[There is a moment, just before Satoru turns away, where he pauses. He hears those words, spoken in that tone, and he thinks of a time long ago, when he asked Suguru to explain himself — to tell him why. He wore nothing over his eyes back then — no blindfold, no shades. He looked at Suguru without anything between them, and searched for a reason.

He thinks about how, years later, he found Suguru in an alleyway, preparing for death. He wore nothing over his eyes then, either. He looked at Suguru without anything between them, and took his life.

Satoru hooks a finger in his blindfold and pulls it down.

He looks at Suguru without anything between them —

and sees nothing.

He smiles at the darkness before him, and with the weight of yet another parting on his shoulders, he finally turns.

With a wave, he says:]

Say hi to Ryomen Sukuna for me.

[And makes his way out of the hall.]