238/Day Drinking

Day Drinking
Date of Scene:	28 July 2023
Location:	Starlight Mansion, Tokyo
Synopsis:	Listen, sixteen is the legal drinking age in some countries. It's fine.
Cast of Characters:	Nephrite, Mamoru Chiba
Tinyplot:	Midnight Tokyo

---

Nephrite has posed:
    Masato Sanjouin enjoys the finer things in life. Even with his memories corrupted, he remembers being a connosieur of all manner of drinks in a distant age, and with the aid of his powers he has set about restocking with everything this planet has to offer, and also a mansion in Japan, that country where space comes at a premium, to keep it all in. One might ask, 'How does a sixteen year old, even if he looks like a man in his twenties, have the funds to do all this?' The answer is: Mind control, son.

    The mansion is in a forested part of Tokyo, and takes a train ride to get out there. It can't even be seen from the road, and trying to walk there through the woods without Veil Sight results in being turned away by barriers that deflect attention. Essentially, non-magical people will not find it, and magical people will have trouble finding it without directions.

    Inside, the mansion is a mix between living space, recreation center, and cathedral-esque open spaces with vaulted ceilings, stained glass windows, and marble floors so pristine one can see their reflection in them.

    And then there's the parts that are grungy, dingy, always dimly lit even in daytime, and the windows seem to look out on a constant twilight of shifting blues, reds, and purples. It might not entirely be part of Earth, strictly speaking. It is here that magic flows most steadily, and research materials, constellation maps, and other equipment of an Astrologist can be found.

    As for where Masato can be found?

    Sitting in a chair on the third floor, a table with a carafe of wine nearby, another chair for a guest, a radio playing a baseball game with announcers narrating the events, a book in hand, a wine glass in the other, and absolutely no fucks to give.

    Needless to say, Darien Shields has most definitely been invited.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
An invitation to the no-fucks-to-give party is always a delightfully welcome thing. There are cycles all of them go through, and one of the probably more annoying ones Hematite goes through is between the extremes of feeling like he's left behind and coddled as a precious liability, and feeling like he's welcome nearly anywhere at nearly any time.

Fortunately for both of them, he's currently right in the middle of the mood bell-curve.

It's amiably that he comes partway in, lingering briefly in the doorway and watching as if to memorize the moment. He's not dressed up, though if he teleported here at all it was in uniform, and if he walked that's a whole other mood that could be at play. Just a black band t-shirt, a lightweight white button-down slung over it like an open jacket, worn jeans, plain sneakers.

His skin's been seeing the sun recently, his hair's tied back, and he takes his glasses off as he comes in. Apparently they need polishing, because that's what he does as he comes up to the table and takes a seat across from Nephrite.

"Wine today," he observes comfortably, almost cheerfully. "Good mood?"

Nephrite has posed:
    Masato grows a slight smile as Darien arrives. He gestures with his wine-holding hand and a glass that might not have always been there but definitely is now gleams in the sunlight. "You could say that. Help yourself." He waits until Darien's glasses are clean enough to be seen through, then holds up the thick book he's reading to show a glossy, high-quality, centerfold picture of a sports car that looks like the Batmobile. There is no way it doesn't turn into both a motorcycle and a helicopter. "I'm thinking of getting one." The back of the book reads, 'Sports Car Almanac'.

    "How about you? Good mood or abysmal mood?" he asks while returning to making googly eyes at the shiny black piece of automotive engineering.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"Oh my god," says Darien, leaning forward and adjusting his glasses, staring at the centerfold. "You have to get one. And then let me ride shotgun at least once." He's laughing, but not because he thinks it's a joke-- just because he knows it's not.

Without even thinking about it, the high-schooler who actually looks like one leans to pick up the carafe, then pour himself a glass of wine as well. "Partly a good mood, partly a pensive one," he says companionably. "Good mood because I've got a social situation coming up where I can ask the white-haired guy at school if he wants a job. Pensive because that makes a fifth member of the elite four, if he fits as well as I feel like he does, as well as you and Jadeite and Zoisite."

And then he sits back and swirls the wine gently in the glass, sniffs it lightly, and looks sheepish. "And also there's this girl..."

He drinks some liquid fortitude and doesn't make a face.

'This girl' at least is a better subject than Pyrite.

"And don't worry, I will *not* ask if I can borrow your new car to impress her."

Nephrite has posed:
    "You're the first one I thought of for that role," Masato confesses earnestly. "Driving around on my own is fun, but having you with me would make it so much better." He's in such a good mood, he almost suggests bringing Pyrite along. Definitely in the back seat. Maybe in the trunk. His interest switches to the talk of a social event and recruitment of the man who Nephrite saw at the dance. Is having to change the name of the Shitennou due to not being four anymore really the biggest concern Darien has? Nephrite shakes his head and smiles ruefully. "I'm sure you can manage both situations without my help, but I'd also happily play the role of wingman."

    Taking a sip from his glass, Nephrite pretends to be continuing to look at the car while actually looking over the top of his book at Darien expectantly. Eventually, he says, "Soooo...? What kind of girl is she? Tell me about her."

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
"Then I'm very much calling shotgun," says Darien firmly, eyes bright. "And we should go out of the city in it, too. Get some real speed."

He has another sip of the wine-- he's easy enough to read; he's being as open as he's ever gotten, concerns on his face and what stresses or relieves him in his shoulders and in the stillness or motion of his hands, heart on his sleeve.

'Five out of four' is a real concern according to the set of his shoulders, but probably not due to the name change.

"I don't think I'll need help recruiting Saitou," he says frankly -- he's probably right but there's always a question -- "but I might need help with the girl. I've never actually been interested before."

He finishes the glass of wine, probably a little too quickly. "She's so-- bright, like sunshine. She means everything she says. And she's so-- heartfelt, I guess? She even made friends with Pyrite. And I think she likes me. She's really pretty, too. She's a year behind us in school, and lives in the same dorm building as me. I've been tutoring her in algebra and English and she's really getting it!"

No, he really hasn't been interested before. And yes, he's literally as excited about the teaching as he is about 'she's pretty and nice'.

Nephrite has posed:
    Cars forgotten, book finding its way folded shut to his lap, Masato just listens and grins. Darien is both his best friend and like his younger brother. Seeing Darien happy about his first love makes Masato happy in turn. "Helping someone overcome their weaknesses can be very rewarding, I agree." He nods. He means this completely innocently. Maybe. "Well, being able to befriend... Her is quite a feat. If you hadn't already done so, I would have thought it impossible." Masato tilts his head back and looks up at the sky, his long brown hair hanging over the back of his chair.

    "Bright, huh?" he muses idly. And here's Darien, Shadowed. Caught between the Light and the Dark. Masato knows he should try to encourage Darien towards the Dark. But out of all the Shitennou, Nephrite is the one most likely to screw off and enjoy himself, play human, and surround himself with the trappings of mortals. Nephrite and Hematite are those closest to each other in many ways. Or so is Masato's feeling.

    Nothing wrong with chasing after a girl as long as the overarching goals are being met. Masato certainly hadn't held back in that department, even if he has thus far been without romantic success. Japanese girls tend to get so... Overwhelmed. Like a deer in headlights. Cute in its own way, but ultimately a disaster waiting to happen.

    "The same dorm building even... And she likes you back. It sounds like it might be fate." he says finally. Words of encouragement, to seek Brightness.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
Shadowed, but so often outdoors, so often out in the warmth and light, so very enjoying the summer sun, and always happier when involved with normal humans, when involved with mortals and sinking into school life, even if he withdraws into solitude as well, afterwards. The introvert, recharging with a book, or with doing physical or tactile-- yes, he and Nephrite are very close, have a great deal of things in common.

As long as the overarching goals are being met, so long as their Queen's fancy is pleased.

She probably wouldn't like a girl catching Hematite's eye.

"I think you'd like her," says Darien, smiling, slouching back in his seat. Then he's silent for a moment, also looking up at the sky.

After a second, he admits, "I've been trying to consider whether there's any way I could bring her in, but it's too easy for someone like her to get hurt. Is it all right to be happy for now?"

It's like a question someone asked a long time ago, deja vu-- seeking advice from Nephrite, out in the quiet somewhere that cars can't be heard, where the trees listen, where the stars will be brilliant later. Is it all right to be happy for now? Is it all right to enjoy something and want to keep it when you know it's fleeting?

But that's all the mortal world is, isn't it.

Fleeting.

"I guess that's a silly question, nothing lasts forever. Probably not even fate." A beat, and Darien's considering another glass of wine. "Would it be silly to ask the stars about something like this?" he asks almost wistfully.

Best friend and big brother, is Nephrite to him, in a way that transcends the limited time they've spent together working for Beryl. Advisor. Lookout. Brother in arms, best friend-- even if the group's actions within the group are fractious, there's still the boy among them that they all want safe, and even happy. For now.

Five Shitennou.

Darien chews on his lip, and pours another glass after all.

Nephrite has posed:
    Masato tilts his head a bit at the idea of bringing 'her' into 'this'. He isn't certain which one his friend means at first, but Pyrite is clearly already 'into this' in some fashion. The conclusion that a different Shitennou might reach, that Darien intends to open up a space for his new recruit to maintain the total of four, is not something the brown-haired man does more than give a passing notion to. He'll have to preemptively get to Jadeite and Zoisite to get everyone on the same page about this girl that their leader fancies. No one is getting replaced, no matter which way things turn.

    "It's a fine thing to be happy." he answers in his gravelly, raspy voice he uses among those he is close to, rather than the smooth God's Gift To Women voice he uses with the ladies. "Who would choose to be miserable when they could enjoy life?" He raises his head as he sits up straight and puts one silk-pants-clad leg over the other. He is wearing a shirt, technically, even if it's unbuttoned and hanging open. Why not, after all? This is his home, and his only guest is his Prince--

    He stops and frowns.

    What was that thought he just had? And why was it about >Darien< of all people? He looks nothing like... Like who? Nephrite's frown deepens as he tries to remember what he was just thinking of. His own thoughts slip away from him as a black fog roils through his mind, obscuring them. Obscuring him.

    "Darien." he starts as black starts to creep into the edges of his vision like it would if he was about to pass out. "Hematite. Have we..." Static. "Have I had this conversation before... Somewhere?" More static.

    A great fire burning.

    A young man in black armor and cape, reciting a poem he wrote for his beloved.

    Who is that? Nephrite asks himself as his glass falls from his hand and his book from his lap as both feet go to the ground and he hunches forwards, holding his head.

    His mouth is moving unconsciously reciting the words silently. Then a spike is driven through his skull, burning and wreathed in darkness, and Nephrite ceases to be for a moment. He's still breathing hard and shaking, and the echo of that pain lingers, but whatever he was remembering is gone.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
His name's probably been called repeatedly-- Nephrite, Nephrite!-- over the past moment, but it's likely that the first external stimulus the astrologer registers is a warm and solid hand on his shoulder, belonging to possibly the only person who would unthinkingly touch Nephrite, as a connection and as an attempt to reassure, to steady.

The name's not being called anymore, and there's a frustration behind Darien's earth-blue eyes that's there whenever any of the Shitennou or Takashi is in pain; the glasses aren't there anymore, and Hematite's hair is loose, spilling over his uniform's mandarin collar, over the glossy black of his cape.

Underwater, maybe, the sound of his quieted voice: "--do to help?" it surfaces.

There's also fear there, the kind of fear Hematite shouldn't show, the kind that's a liability because it shows he cares a lot -- too much for the Dark Kingdom, perhaps.

He's just Hematite. The softest one of all of them, and yet, their leader. Their leader who's infatuated with some girl, who's attracted to sunshine and who even uses a rose as a weapon.

It's a fine thing to be happy.

"You look like someone tried to Trotsky you, brother."

Nephrite has posed:
    Nephrite waves off Hematite, though he's not trying to push him away. "I think perhaps I've had enough wine for now. I probably need to mix in some water." He looks down at the broken glass on the ground and the spilled wine. The glass disappears when its creator dissolves it, but the wine is a loss. "What a waste," he says with a sigh. He at least gets his book before the lurid photos of fast-moving machines become stained.

    He puts the book on the table as he sits up straight. He pat-pats Hematite's hand. "It's fine. I'm fine. I should go get a towel." He makes no move to go get a towel, just looks down at the burgundy wine with its rich scent spreading across the balcony.

    Static.

    Dark blood spreads across the Lunar stone. A sword is in his hand, and the feeling of running it through a soft, yielding body still fresh. He looks down at the *static* woman in *static* someone he once *static* *static*. None of that was important anymore though. His only loyalty was to Her Majesty, and the Other, the one watching from behind his eyes as he burned down everything his Queen opposed.

    The blue of his eyes is as red as the wine he stares at for a moment. "What a waste," he says softly, before finally standing up. He sighs, and starts buttoning up his shirt. "I think She Who Must Not Be Named is rattling the bars of my cage. I'll go see what Her Majesty wants and come right back. Feel free to avail yourself of the accommodations." It sounds like his team lost the game based off the commentator's words on the radio, so he just reaches out to shut it off.

Mamoru Chiba has posed:
The sudden overwhelming sense of loss that Hematite feels when Nephrite stands is inexplicable. He didn't know what he could have done (probably nothing) and Nephrite said it was fine (it wasn't) and getting up and going to see what Beryl wants is normal and generally good for the health.

His cape falls around him as he straightens up, and he hesitates for a moment, just watching Nephrite move, and he remembers the flash of red -- and the one at the meeting, when Neph was outlining and explaining Midnight Tokyo -- and it hurts. It's grief with no cause and therefore no closure.

Hematite watches Nephrite turn off the radio, and he thinks 'the bars of my cage' and he thinks 'do you feel like you're looking for someone or something?' and he thinks 'there's a place for you' and he thinks 'what a waste'.

He says, "I'll be here," and it comes out easy and loose, accepting the explanation, accepting the lies and the danger and the loss and the memory redaction and the guilt and the whole herd of elephants in every room he's ever been in.

Letting go the uniform again, it's Darien in his UNMASK shirt and glasses that drops back into the guest chair. It's Darien who picks up his own unspilled wine. It's Darien's wry face and rueful voice that says, "Definitely don't say hi for me."

It's Darien's glasses that hide the specific blue of a small cloudy marble in space, as seen from the surface of a moon before it was despoiled.

It's the setting of a comfortable and easy lie that lets them stay themselves, a little.

The grief might even be gone by the time Nephrite's back.