#bigbangsmasher

There are many sounds within Mistwoods, most not to be followed after. This sound however was not from a mistborn, it had more familiar edge and gravity to it so Ogata thought he might as well take a look.

“ ....thought so”, Ogata mumbles as he walk further on his small porch. It’s Makoto. Last time he saw her was in completely different circumstances, having turned into a cat and all.

 He sits down, folding his legs as he does.

What an an interesting message. She had to think for a moment, but most of her deals happened in Fibonacci, she certainly couldn’t remember a sale going south in Cotes nor Golden, depending on which she was referring to. 

TO: Makoto FROM: Crow

[->] I have blood, yes. It would be bad if I ran out. [->] I could spare some, it is a worthy cause. [->] Beasts should not run unchecked, no matter who they are. [->] I can also handle myself. [->] And while I do not possess your investigative skills, my nose is very reliable.

There was a pause as she considering how best to write her next thoughts. She knew she could trust Makoto, but still...

A howl definitely escaped his throat as he saw Makoto near the Atlantic Edge, practically bounding up on all fours out of sheer excitement as he saw someone he knew. As much as he was just more than willing to fight just any ol’ person here, it would be even better to be able to share that experience with people he knew!

“Makoto! MAKOTOOOOOWOOOOO!”

“Have you seen it!? Have you seen what we can do!?” He gestures manically to the Atlantic Edge set up. Walking over to the table of costume parts, he gestures her over.

     “... I had no idea how annoying journalists can actually be...      Have you been having trouble with them as well?”

Surely a withered sign that said “LOUNGE ROOM B” was promising, wasn’t it? A dusty, wire-fortified glass panel revealed a steady light in the room, flickering occasionally. Someone was in there, surely, though whether they were friend or foe remained to be seen.

The door itself wasn’t unlocked, but it stuck, as if something heavy was barring it from the inside, restricting access to Lounge B.

“ Oi, Makoto. I’m trying to gather people for an idea I had. So like, how much would it take to bribe ya t’ star in a commercial? Thought you’d be a good fit for this thing. ”

The Rider was more than confident in her own skills; she was the Queen of Connacht, she was always perfect, always exceptional. Yet, even she had certain disadvantages (never weaknesses, of course, as perfect people had no faults). As a Rider, she knew any Servant or creature that dubbed the essence of assassins had their own certain advantages over her, just as they would any one or thing imbued with the essences of the Rider class.

Of course, with all her arrogance, Medb was still displeased to find a ghostly presence roaming around Cotes Ward. Could she deal with it? Of course. Did she want to? Well, no, not really.  So, Medb decided that she simply wouldn’t, and would instead go off to do other things that she deemed far more important.

That was how she wanted things to unfold, but during such chaotic times as these, things would not go as Medb would have wished. Rather than quietly avoid the ghost wandering about, Medb heard a sudden commotion that easily caught the attention of anyone within a certain distance. She soon found the source of such noise-- a familiar face, a woman whose company the Servant would typically welcome warmly. 

“Eh? Makoto?”

"Do you have Big Boss smokes?"

"What? No. We have Mardbolo, we have Dromedary, and we have Oldport... that’s about it, I think, sir." The cashier, some bland-looking individual in an ill-fitting uniform, gave Six an odd look.

Six ignores the cashier's annoyed expression as he clears out a space in the small pile of soft drinks, hot dogs, and other associated snacks he had piled up at the till.

"Fine, I'll take a... pack of Mardbolos." He nods. "D'you take NCR dollars? I got bottle caps, but, uh..."

"Ex...excuse me, sir?"

"Caps it is, then." Six continues to speak as he reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small purse cut from coarse sackcloth. "Just let me know if this is enough."