[h2]Mako Moritomi//???[/h2]
[h3]Tuesday, June 9, 2015[/h3]

[color=royalblue]"Welcome to the Velvet Room."[/color]

Mako sighed as the same dream started once again. He tuned out the woman's voice as he glared at the congregation of shadows by the door, seemingly beckoning him, but always leaving him behind. His mouth twisted as the doors opened and the woman droned on, as the same sequence played itself out again and again, the only difference being the number of silhouettes admitted to the "Velvet Room" beyond. 

[color=0076a3][i]Why me? Why this dream? If this is supposed to be telling me about some destiny of mine, why won't you elaborate any further? I want to help. I want to do something.[/i][/color] He scrutinized the silhouettes, begging them to become more distinct, but as always, they flitted onward, their shapes hovering just above his comprehension- unreadable, yet tantalizingly familiar.

[color=0076a3][i]Bullshit. I call bullshit. You say this is my destiny, but you're not telling me anything. Well, fuck you, too, cryptic lady.If you really cared, you'd give me better than Shadow Puppet Theater. Throw me a bone- something, anything![/i][/color]

She was winding down her speech even now. The last of the silhouettes was just about to leave him behind. His fists clenched.

[color=0076a3][i]Give me an answer! A sign, a hint! JUST FUCKING TELL ME SOMETHING--[/i][/color]

The last silhouette stopped, turning toward him. He quirked an eyebrow as the silhouette continued to look at him(? He couldn't really tell without seeing its eyes), until something changed. Barely perceptible, but for a moment, the edges of the shade sharpened, became more distinct. Instead of a hazy representation of an anonymous someone, it became more solid. More recognizable. Mako's eyebrows shot up. He knew them. He knew that stance.

[color=0076a3][i]...Sato?[/i][/color]

And then the dream collapsed into the sound of his alarm.

==~==

[h2]Mako Moritomi//Star Drop Cafe[/h2]
[h3]Saturday, June 13, 2015[/h3]

It just made sense, if he was being perfectly honest.

Mako tapped the pencil against his head, looking the notes he'd written down. It wasn't much, considering he didn't have much information- everything he did have filled only one page, and barely, at that. Still, it was a start. 

Mako pondered everything he'd found out so far. As far as he knew, Sato had quit... well, everything save school, really. He didn't know much about his extracirriculars, to be honest, but Sato hadn't shown up to drama club since his kidnapping, and the only other club of his he knew about- archery- had told him he was similarly AWOL. Curious.

[color=0076a3][i]Huh. I didn't know he did archery. That's... pretty cool, actually. Okay, focus, Mako.[/i][/color]

Moreover, there was that conversation they'd had during their [color=0076a3][s]do not call it a date, Moritomi, I swear to every god there is[/s][/color] lunch. He'd seemed... passionate about this. What was it he'd said?

[i]"...I'm confident that next time, if someone gets kidnapped, they'll come back just like I did."[/i]

Why did he seem so sure about that? Like he absolutely knew- not hoped, [i]knew[/i]- that the next victims would be safe. Which could mean one of two things. Either he was in on the whole kidnapping conspiracy- unlikely, since he was one of the victims, but still- or he knew something about the people who were doing the saving lately. 

And that led to the whole linchpin for his argument- the dream. He was fairly convinced now that whatever destiny the woman kept referring to had something to do with these kidnappers, and, more explicitly, the ones who were saving the victims. Sato, and whoever the other silhouettes represented. And him too, he guessed, since he was the one who kept having the dream. Maybe that's why he never got a clear answer from any of it- maybe this was a test, or something, to see if he was worthy of getting involved.

...Which all sounded fucking retarded, now that he was putting it in plain sentences, but it was all he had. It really wasn't much to go on, having nothing but hazy dreams, and a sneaking suspicion that one of those silhouettes absolutely looked like someone he'd only spent, like, an hour in total with. But he was still pretty certain, and he'd never been one for rational thinking, anyway. Far too many constraints.

[color=0076a3][i]All of which just begs the question... where the hell do I go from here?[/i][/color]