[The Forge clicks on - sound only at first. There's the distinct sound of fumbling at the keys and a soft, muttered curse before it suddenly switches to video. Someone is only half-familiar with the wonders of modern communications technology and most of what he does know was gleaned over too much sake and from too pretty a girl in too few
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Shunsui? I was starting to wonder when you'd show up.
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Ukitake. Care to tell me where the hell I am before this flask runs out?
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The city's name is Anatole. It appears to not particularly care as to place or time when it feels like bringing new inhabitants here.
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Silence for a moment, and then a world-weary sigh.]
Saaaa. And I suppose you're going to tell me that there's no way to leave.
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I'm in no hurry to get back to fighting - but on the other hand, I'd prefer to avoid a scolding from Yama-jii.
You know how he is when he's in a bad mood. I prefer my haori un-scorched.
[Rather absently, he rubs at the back of one dust-smeared hand with the other, then looks back at the Forge.]
At least tell me you had the time to investigate where I can take a bath. This place is distinctly lacking in home comforts.
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There's public bathhouses. Are you still at the temporary lodgings?
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Is that what they are?
[He looks around with the faintly curious air of someone with far too much experience waking up in strange places with only a vague memory of where he is or how he got there.]
I was half-expecting someone to come home and throw me out on my ass.
[And the tone indicates that too is something he is not unfamiliar with.]
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No, they let people new to the city live there for a time - though eventually they will throw you out.
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Hn. If you're trying to tell me I'll have to earn my keep, my friend, then I'm going to need considerably more sake.
[A light flick of the finger against the flask causes enough of a sound to indicate a distinct lack of supply, and Kyouraku makes a wry face in response.]
Though if the bathhouses are mixed, I may forgive you the bad news.
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Unfortunately, I'm afraid I have to disappoint you on both fronts, there.
[He doesn't look at /all/ sorry about this]
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His shoulders slump dramatically at the news and there's a long, put-upon sigh in response to Ukitake's cheerful crushing of his dreams.]
Oya, Ukitake. I thought you were a friend.
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And a friend would give you the unvarnished truth, ne?
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A friend would break it to me gently. And preferably over alcohol.
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I'll buy you a drink after you get cleaned up.
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In that case, I hope your purse is deep, pretty boy - I have the feeling this may be a long evening.
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