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[OPEN] NOVEMBER CATCHALL.
WHO: Momo and you!
WHERE: All around.
WHEN: Throughout the month of November!
WHAT: Quests, mirrors, miscellanies.
WARNINGS: None atm— I'll update if there's anything notable!
QUEST 32 : THE PLAGUE.
a.
[ He's sick.
He knows what this is, because he's pushed through it before: nausea, headaches, aching joints, pressure behind his ears. When he breathes through his mouth, he tastes that tar-thick illness sitting at the back of his throat. When he talks, he can feel how his voice wants to break between each syllable.
It's bad. But it's not unbearable.
It is, however, enough of a physical burden that someone who meets up with him on the regular might realize that he hasn't rang in a while— that, or someone who talks to him routinely might notice that he cuts conversations a bit faster than usual. He's missing from the streets in the same way that someone who pays enough attention might notice that their local grocery store's changed their looping smooth jazz soundtrack to elevator music; his absence is subtle, and largely insignificant.
Still, he's around. At home, he's in his room with a book he'd pilfered from the library, lying on his side on the bed. If anyone comes knocking, he won't realize until they're standing next to him, bedside— he'll blink and sit up, eyes slightly unfocused before he laughs and looks embarrassed. ]
Sorry, sorry— ahh, you can't sneak up on idols when they're not camera-ready...!
[ If he's out and about, he'll be curiously devoid of emotion until he spots someone he knows. The transition from neutral to cheerful takes a second, but he gets there. A little rusty, a little creaky. ]
...Hey! Look at all this snow! It feels super nice, huh...!
[ Maybe because he's burning up??? Jesus, Momo. ]
b.
[ Or maybe your character's the one that's sick, and Momo's the one that's plodding over for a gift delivery or some soup delivery. Either way, he's here and at your doorstep, hands full and brows downturned. ]
Go lie down, okay? Let Momo-chan take care of things today, no sweat.
MIRROR, MIRROR.
[ Here's what Mirror Momo is: he's an asshole. But here's what Mirror Momo isn't: he's not a liar.
Maybe you're over for a house visit, or maybe you've caught Momo doing his laundry outside, or maybe you've caught Momo looking for food to eat. Either way, at some point, that stupid mirror finds its way into the conversation in an intrusive way: whether it be through its sudden appearance, or because Momo's stuffed it into the front pocket of his sweatshirt in an effort to keep it from spooking him.
Mirror Momo talks a lot of shit. Throughout, he's terminally upbeat. Always, always smiling.
Listen closely, and you'll probably hear a lot of unflattering truths about 'Momose Sunohara'. Oops. ]
(( catchall for November! ♥ feel free to PM me or to shoot me a PP via Plurk (![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
deuil) for anything more specific. if you're hitting up the mirror portion of the log, i'll write up whatever Mirror Momo is saying at that point in time— feel free to leave a blank toplevel and i can hit you up with an insecurity that Momo's nursing! ))
WHERE: All around.
WHEN: Throughout the month of November!
WHAT: Quests, mirrors, miscellanies.
WARNINGS: None atm— I'll update if there's anything notable!
QUEST 32 : THE PLAGUE.
a.
[ He's sick.
He knows what this is, because he's pushed through it before: nausea, headaches, aching joints, pressure behind his ears. When he breathes through his mouth, he tastes that tar-thick illness sitting at the back of his throat. When he talks, he can feel how his voice wants to break between each syllable.
It's bad. But it's not unbearable.
It is, however, enough of a physical burden that someone who meets up with him on the regular might realize that he hasn't rang in a while— that, or someone who talks to him routinely might notice that he cuts conversations a bit faster than usual. He's missing from the streets in the same way that someone who pays enough attention might notice that their local grocery store's changed their looping smooth jazz soundtrack to elevator music; his absence is subtle, and largely insignificant.
Still, he's around. At home, he's in his room with a book he'd pilfered from the library, lying on his side on the bed. If anyone comes knocking, he won't realize until they're standing next to him, bedside— he'll blink and sit up, eyes slightly unfocused before he laughs and looks embarrassed. ]
Sorry, sorry— ahh, you can't sneak up on idols when they're not camera-ready...!
[ If he's out and about, he'll be curiously devoid of emotion until he spots someone he knows. The transition from neutral to cheerful takes a second, but he gets there. A little rusty, a little creaky. ]
...Hey! Look at all this snow! It feels super nice, huh...!
[ Maybe because he's burning up??? Jesus, Momo. ]
b.
[ Or maybe your character's the one that's sick, and Momo's the one that's plodding over for a gift delivery or some soup delivery. Either way, he's here and at your doorstep, hands full and brows downturned. ]
Go lie down, okay? Let Momo-chan take care of things today, no sweat.
MIRROR, MIRROR.
[ Here's what Mirror Momo is: he's an asshole. But here's what Mirror Momo isn't: he's not a liar.
Maybe you're over for a house visit, or maybe you've caught Momo doing his laundry outside, or maybe you've caught Momo looking for food to eat. Either way, at some point, that stupid mirror finds its way into the conversation in an intrusive way: whether it be through its sudden appearance, or because Momo's stuffed it into the front pocket of his sweatshirt in an effort to keep it from spooking him.
Mirror Momo talks a lot of shit. Throughout, he's terminally upbeat. Always, always smiling.
Listen closely, and you'll probably hear a lot of unflattering truths about 'Momose Sunohara'. Oops. ]
(( catchall for November! ♥ feel free to PM me or to shoot me a PP via Plurk (
no subject
This... it doesn't explain the whole story, but it does fill in a lot of pieces. Minato's quiet, listening with thoughtful, contemplative intent--
And when Momo ends on that note, Minato can't really help but reach out to gently touch his hand with his own. How can Momo feel ashamed of this? Even as Minato thinks about it, he knows the answer. It's because Momo has been sparkling for people for so long, to bring smiles to their faces, to help this Yuki's dreams come true, that he doesn't know how to let himself feel things that don't fall in line with that, right...?
... It's terribly sad, he can't help but think.]
... He sounds incredible. The Yuki-san that you wanted to help that much... he must be an amazing person.
[A beat, and softly:]
And I don't think it ever gets easier to miss someone like this. But... it's okay to love someone so much that you miss them.
[Minato lifts his chin, expression firm.]
You don't have to hold back.
no subject
Momo's not sure why it's that simple turn of phrase that puts a gentle hammer to the cracks in his floodgates; maybe it's because he spent so long trying to get other people to see beyond Yuki's exterior that the affirmation feels cathartic, or maybe it's because Minato is so gentle and forthright and devastatingly kind. Here's a boy who's almost a decade his junior, genuinely saying the things Momo wanted to hear because Momo was foolish enough to lower his guard.
Momo is ashamed. Disappointed in himself. But most of all, grateful.
A soft sorry, and he covers his face. Curls his fingers inwards as if he could keep his outbursts contained in the small cage of his hands. What a useless endeavor— he's still littering droplets between the seams of his bent joints. ]
Yuki-san really is amazing. [ He tries to laugh through it, but it sounds like a hiccup, muffled and clumsy. The use of the honorific after his duo partner's name is a slipup, but it's an indication that Momo still privately subscribes to the hierarchy between them. ] You'd love him too, if you ever met him.
[ And god, Momo never cries like this in front of people, he promises. Momo of Re:vale is tenacious and cheerful and laughs off his mistakes because that's the way to keep moving on, to not stop and linger in his own feelings.
But here he is, shoulders hunched like a baby, dotting the ground with his pent-up fears. ]
—I'll be okay. [ His personal mantra, between breaths. ] I'll be okay. Thanks, Minato.
no subject
So he's not bothered by the tears, or by Momo's clumsy attempts at laughing through them; he's patient, listening, waiting until he's able to speak, and carefully tucking the details that he's leaning into the back of his mind to consider, contemplate later.
Momo covers his face with his hands, and Minato doesn't try to tug them away... but instead, quietly, he shifts to wrap his arms loosely around Momo's shoulders. He doesn't have to show his face if he wants to hide his tears... but he doesn't have to be alone, either. That's what the gesture states, and it's a message Minato wants Momo to know, even if he won't say it outright at an emotionally charged moment like this.
And quietly:]
I know you'll be okay. And... I hope someday I get to meet him.
[No arguments--he simply agrees, expression and tone peaceful.]
... Thank you for talking to me about him, Momo-san. I hope...that you'll tell me more about him sometime, too.
no subject
It aches, the feeling of being halved. It's confusing, navigating a world without the clear trajectory he'd always had when he was home.
But there's certainty in Minato's words, and familiarity in his kindness.
It doesn't feel right to stay upset, when he can hear his heart sing for Minato's quiet compassion. ]
—It'll have to be a sleepover! I can pull an all-nighter if I'm talking about Yuki.
[ The sliver of his face that Momo finally shows is red, tear-slick, and genuine. ]
But you gotta tell me about the things you love, too. I wanna know.
[ With that said, here he goes... for The Big Hug. A bear hug, clumsy and way too affectionate. ]
no subject
Even so--]
A sleepover sounds really fun, Momo-san.
[And that's how much he'd like to hear from Momo--about Yuki, of course, but also about his aspirations, his dreams, how he ended up here, what he's thinking... there's so much he wants to know.
And, of course...]
I'll tell you everything I can think of too. Because...that's what friends do, right?
no subject
Turnabout is fair play. It's equivalent exchange, as thanks for making Momo feel weightless. ]
—Haha! It's what friends do, but it's also what Minato should do more often.
[ He has a feeling that Minato puts the lives of others before his own; it's easy enough for Momo to talk about everything that he loves because he has so many, but he still doesn't really know what Minato does to be selfish. Does he ever get angry? Does he ever stamp his feet and yell, does he ever laugh with the breadth of his body, until his ribs scream at him to stop?
Momo squeezes for a second more, content in his heartache because it's allowed him this moment with his new friend. He's crying again, but it's the happy brand. The gentle brand. ]
The next time I see you, I'm gonna make you cry. [ A shy little tease, as he finally lets go and elbows Minato carefully. ]
no subject
But, well... no need to bring down the mood by bringing that up; instead, Minato wheezes a little as he's swept right off the ground (he's scrawny, it'll be easy), though he doesn't squirm in the bear hug.]
Momo-san...
[(He's so warm, so affectionate... how can someone as bright and warm and kind as this think that he's anything less than amazing?)]
... That's a really mean thing to say.
[It's said rather deadpan, but...there's some well-hidden amusement to his words too.]