ooc: Log of Fujiko & Goemon doing canon-mates stuff (omg Fujiko has canonmates *SHOCKED*)

[doubleppk]

Who: Fujiko & Goemon
Where: On the way to deal with Momichi
When: Let's go with Wednesday the 25th (can be changed if you prefer)
Why: Dealing with stuff (hmm I need a Goemon & Fuji icon but the only one I have is with them surfing :|)
What: Mostly talking
Rating: PG for Language.



Fujiko shot him another cautious glance for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes. To say she was nervous about this didn't beging to cover it. Double crossing Momichi was more than welcome in her book. Bastard deserved a lot worse than anything she could do to him a hundred times over. But of course it was just a reminded that the dead could and did come back here. How long before she'd have to deal with Poon again? And not just his ghost. She didn't want Lupin there but at the same time she was terrified that she wouldn't be able to face it all without him.

And in the meanwhile even just dealing with Goemon on her own was unpleasant. They hadn't gotten along since the first time she'd been coerced into working with Momichi. And even with Lupin as a buffer it'd been difficult. How many times had he stormed off refusing to even work with his best friend as long as Fujiko was there too? It had always felt like working with the Beatles to her with her as Yoko Ono. And in the end she wanted to do what she did best and run the hell away. But this time, no running. She was facing it. Even if it scared her half to death.

At least if he got mad enough to cut up the mini-sub she had an aqualung stashed nearby to swim away.

Comments

[ishikawa-juusan.livejournal.com]

There was little she could hide from his gaze, his narrow-eyed squint not unfriendly, but perceptive and contemplative. For her sake, he didn't expose how transparent her feelings were despite her efforts to hold strong; he would have hoped to be spared the same way himself, were he in her position. His features took on an air of grave understanding.

Taught by privation to be fiercely independent, the ronin could relate to how company chafed him at times, moreso when he was determined to resolve his problems on his own, regardless of the risk, to prove his worth. The impending confrontation with Momochi was no different. Everything was a matter of honour, he had convinced himself - but pride and dignity were always under threat, equally important.

Nestled in the back of his mind, there were little, niggling lies that brought him cold comfort; the thought he might be strong enough to forge ahead in life without being dependent on support outside himself; the thought that he could avoid emotional and physical weakness his father had punished smartly and accordingly. He had fought loneliness alone; he could therefore fight his demons alone.

"How much time is left?"

[doubleppk]

"Four minutes. Don't chicken out now," she grinned easily, teasing him as a defense mechanism, slipping into that mask to hide from the rest or hide from the realities.

[ishikawa-juusan.livejournal.com]

Nodding dimly in response, he exhaled, feeling the ropes slacken slightly from around his chest. The presence of Zantetsuken in the back of his keikogi, and the pressure of his tanto behind the backboard of his hakama were reassuring.

In the end, he was indifferent as to where anyone stood on his choice to put his life and limb at risk, being altogether prepared to knock just about anyone aside who meant to restrain him. There were some things he had to resolve as a ronin, and as a man; he owed to himself, and more importantly, innocent bystanders, to step up to the occasion.

"This ends today." he mused soberly, looking towards the porthole window.