Baroona (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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compyuutah2013-10-08 09:57 pm
broroona) wrote in compyuutah2013-10-08 09:57 pm
Entry tags:
standing in the middle of roads upon arrival is becoming tradition
[Funny, how your life can change in an instant. Baroona had already experienced it enough. Twice recently–both arrivals to the City. But after a year he had assumed he was stuck there. A permanent fixture in a futuristic city he had only just started to get used to.
He was wrong.
From laying in the park to sitting up in a dirtied alleyway, the change was instantaneous. A quick look around guarantees that he's alone, allows for a moment of panic. Check to make sure everything is still here: knives, cigarettes, lighter, clothes... translator? Baroona stares down at it curiously, it's presence oddly comforting in his hand. He keeps it there and stands, listening and looking.
It looks like the City. There's a thick crowd at the end of the alleyway and brightly colored balloons passing by overhead. He recognizes it from the City. A parade? Maybe. It's certainly noisy enough.
This isn't going to be fun.
With a sigh, he presses forward anyway, slipping through and around people, taking himself to the front. People glare as he pushes past but get distracted before there's any issues. A float passes by. Baroona regards it plainly. Definitely a parade. What a pain.
Looking past the floats and balloons, Baroona studies the buildings, looks for something familiar. But familiarity is hard to spot when everything looked foreign in the first place. It's hard to tell. A quirk of a frown pulls at his lips as he moves towards another tactic. He fits the translator into his ear, and pushes it on.
At first, all goes well. The strange language being spoken around him gets translated. Yeah, I'm– and then cut off. Static fills his ears instead, loud and merciless. Baroona bows forward, clutching his ear with a wince. The people around him notice and give him space but he can't tell. The static changes to feedback-a high-pitched scream drilling into his head. He winces again and stumbles forward, into the parade and in front of the float. Still, Baroona doesn't notice. Not until the translator is out of his ear and thrown on the ground does he even look up, shoulders slumping.
The people on the float look down at him, shocked. The parade comes to a temporary halt. Security closes in on him from all sides and people shout foreign words from the sidelines. But all Baroona can hear is his own breath as he looks over the float as a thought occurs to him.
He has no idea where he is.]
He was wrong.
From laying in the park to sitting up in a dirtied alleyway, the change was instantaneous. A quick look around guarantees that he's alone, allows for a moment of panic. Check to make sure everything is still here: knives, cigarettes, lighter, clothes... translator? Baroona stares down at it curiously, it's presence oddly comforting in his hand. He keeps it there and stands, listening and looking.
It looks like the City. There's a thick crowd at the end of the alleyway and brightly colored balloons passing by overhead. He recognizes it from the City. A parade? Maybe. It's certainly noisy enough.
This isn't going to be fun.
With a sigh, he presses forward anyway, slipping through and around people, taking himself to the front. People glare as he pushes past but get distracted before there's any issues. A float passes by. Baroona regards it plainly. Definitely a parade. What a pain.
Looking past the floats and balloons, Baroona studies the buildings, looks for something familiar. But familiarity is hard to spot when everything looked foreign in the first place. It's hard to tell. A quirk of a frown pulls at his lips as he moves towards another tactic. He fits the translator into his ear, and pushes it on.
At first, all goes well. The strange language being spoken around him gets translated. Yeah, I'm– and then cut off. Static fills his ears instead, loud and merciless. Baroona bows forward, clutching his ear with a wince. The people around him notice and give him space but he can't tell. The static changes to feedback-a high-pitched scream drilling into his head. He winces again and stumbles forward, into the parade and in front of the float. Still, Baroona doesn't notice. Not until the translator is out of his ear and thrown on the ground does he even look up, shoulders slumping.
The people on the float look down at him, shocked. The parade comes to a temporary halt. Security closes in on him from all sides and people shout foreign words from the sidelines. But all Baroona can hear is his own breath as he looks over the float as a thought occurs to him.
He has no idea where he is.]
no subject
Needless to say, she doesn't need to look very far. The moment she looks up from growling and muttering irritably to herself, she sees several things incredibly wrong with this picture. There is Baroona, looking like his actual gender. There is her mother. Drunk. Asleep.
In his arms. Now, she knows he's no lothario, but...it's taking every ounce, right down to the very last drop, of her will to not outright send lightning bolts hurtling through this entire lobby at this unnerving sight.
A foreign anger swells from somewhere just as unknown, for reasons unknown. But the horror before her is what's triggering it; that much is certain.
Mikoto's eye twitches, as does the right side of her mouth.] What the hell is---
["......YOU....!"
Mikoto and the hotel staff end up gawking as Shirai Kuroko, still clad in her unfortunate lingerie, abruptly teleports into the scene, right in front of Mikoto herself.
"Onee-sama, get back! I will handle this!"]
no subject
I found her outside. She said she was your mother.
[Lifting her as he speaks seems to make her stir, curling further around him. There's a twitch of a frown as a hand pulls down the collar of his shirt but he deals with it. Can't spare a hand to guide her away.]
I thought she'd be safer here.
[The streets aren't any place for a drunk this late at night.]
Is that a problem?
[Meeting Mikoto straight on for that, his question asking more than what it seems to be. It's a challenge on multiple levels–is it a problem that he's there, is it a problem that he's not disguised, that he would actually want to feel normal for once? His stare is a challenge–daring her to say yes.]
no subject
Kuroko, glaring all types of daggers and other pointy objects at Baroona, takes out her famous throwing pins, holding them between her fingers, ready to let them fly should he make any sudden movements again. Mikoto, meanwhile, continues letting her eye twitch, eventually cringing and turning a bright red as Misuzu proceeds to...ah, try to strip him. Or something.
But that's the thing. She can see in his eyes that he's trying to confront her about something.
Kuroko on the other hand, lets out a screech as Misuzu yanks at his collar, burying her face in his neck. The hotel staff looks deeply (unsure) as they debate either letting this freakshow run its course or giving Anti-Skill a call.
"1! 2! 3! 4..."
Mikoto doesn't have a problem with any of that. She doesn't blame him. She actually feels bad for making him going along with her scheme, but at the same time, she can't let him get involved in the secrets of Academy City.
She couldn't let him see what they did to high-level Espers like her. She knows he wouldn't let it lie. But he's no match for the opponents she goes up against. Even a Level 2 could overpower him.
Mikoto swallows, furrowing her brow, looking from him to her mother, and to Kuroko, who looks about to throttle him on the spot.]
Baroona. Put Mom down. I...
[Kuroko stops counting, frowning at Mikoto. "Onee-sama?"]
Kuroko, stay with Mom. I'll take care of this.
[She supposes she should come clean. Mikoto takes a deep breath, looking off to the side as she steps toward Baroona. Whispers---]
We need to talk. Alone.
no subject
Won't this look more suspicious?
no subject
Mikoto herself steels her expression. Briefly clenches her fists.]
Ask Konori-senpai. All I can say is this:
[She fixes Kuroko with something of a protective look. Sure, the latter was her best friend, but Baroona had become an equally significant figure in her life, and she would defend him without a second thought as well.] He isn't going to hurt me.
[Kuroko stares at her, bewildered, but Mikoto shakes her head.] Please.
[Ultimately, Kuroko looks warily from Mikoto to Baroona, and exhales, throwing her hand up in defeat. "Very well, onee-sama. But he brings up a good point, amazingly."
She casts him a dark look; Mikoto pulls up the hood of her hoodie.]
It won't look weird if no one recognizes me. I'll be back, Kuroko.
[She walks past Baroona.]
Let's go.
no subject
You're making a bigger deal out of this than it should be.
no subject
[Mikoto shakes her head, exhaling, remembering the conversation she had with Konori just the other day---at first she thought it would be about maybe helping out Judgment with something, but it turned out to be a topic that hit close to home.
Really, really close to home. Like, standing right next to her close.
"Misaka-san, there's been sightings of strange people wearing white."
"Jeez, more idiots trying to do illegal, inhumane research? You know, if we got paid for every time we dealt with spooks like that..."
"Tell me about it, but...it may actually concern you. Or rather, your friend."
"......What?"
"They were asking people if they've seen someone matching his description. Without the wig and the glasses, obviously. Anti-Skill has been looking into it, but you never know. I think you should warn him."
Mikoto swallows. Her fist clenches.]
Remember when I mentioned secret experiments?
no subject
[He doesn't necessarily get it, though. It's not that it's a hard concept so much as he's never seen anyone do it. In his world inside a world–the people he's met, the things he's seen–"experiments" are rare, if there at all. It's hard for him to imagine what they'd include, nevermind them actually being present and... applicable to his life.
Mikoto's question strikes him as odd and he immediately runs through the possible connections to it and what just happened.]
Is your mother part of them?
no subject
[Mikoto forces a laugh---she really can't imagine her mother strutting around in a lab coat, much less really getting into science. Her dad had equally as little to do with Espers---he was a businessman, and traveled abroad.
And she liked it that way. It made things easier to deal with. After a small pause, Mikoto looks up at the sky.
It's a full moon out. For a moment, she's a bit awestruck. She's never really gotten the chance to go stargazing. But, she had to focus. Her expression turns serious once more.]
But there are other people out there who are looking for ways to discover the perfect Esper. Whether it's by drugs, cloning, modifying people...you name it, they've probably tried it. I don't doubt someone's keeping an eye on me, and the people I know.
[A beat, and she looks at Baroona.]
You included. So...be careful, okay? I....
[She proceeds to look embarrassed, looking off to the side.]
...Wouldn't want you to get hurt because of stuff like that.
no subject
More importantly, he's confused as to why she's concerned about him. They're interested in espers, she said. Not humans. Not Level Nothing's or whatever he was. What has he got to worry about?
He looks at her, confused.]
I don't understand.
[His brow wrinkles in his confusion. He takes a step closer.] Why would they come after me?
no subject
[Mikoto raises her hand, and starts flicking a small arcade token up and down between her fingers. Level 0s aren't worthless, contrary to popular belief. In fact, they're the most ideal test subjects, being blank slates to be modified and augmented to whatever extent was deemed fit.
Mikoto shudders as she thinks back to Saten's coma, to the children she saw in Kiyama's memories, to Erii and the Child Errors. How they all suffered as pawns in the search for Level 6.
Who's to say it wouldn't happen to Baroona? He clearly was different from everyone else---unique despite not having powers.
And if it became known that he was from a completely different universe...]
I mean, what better way to strike at a leader than to target those close to them, you know? You should be familiar with that concept.
no subject
[The words come after an extended silence brought on by surprise. Mikoto is courageous, well-meaning, determined–a bundle of good traits. It doesn't necessarily mean she's a good leader. Not the one he's used to, at least. In a few years, maybe. When she hardens–if she does, but even then it's hard to imagine.
It never occurred to him that the word would change with time. That a modern world with shifting goals and priorities would place different traits upon the ones they deemed "leaders". Maybe, in that new definition, Mikoto fit.
But if that's the case, he's not sure he's comfortable with just being her follower.
His voice is quiet when he speaks and his eyes stray from her as the sentence continues. As his preconceptions of how the world worked get shaken and shattered once again.
This world was different. He had to remember that.
He swallows and looks back to her.]
So I'm your weakness.
[It's not a role he ever wanted to be reduced to.]
no subject
Sure, the perks were sometimes nice, but for the most part? Her status was an enormous pain in the ass.. It wasn't the just the unwanted attention; it was the shady unwanted attention.] And that makes me a target. But---
[She takes a deep breath and averts her gaze herself after he says that. Her weakness...
If only he knew how far off the mark he was in believing so, regardless of the harsh reality. She'd never admit this---aloud, anyway---but he was her strength, right up there with Kuroko, Saten, and Uiharu. He'd fought beside her, held her up in her worst moments, outright protected her reckless ass; he gave her a reason to fight.
He had no idea how grateful she was. How she did indeed appreciate his presence.
How much she wanted to return the favor, even though she felt she could never match up.
She clenches the token into her hand, and closes her eyes.] ---don't be stupid. Don't you ever think that, Baroona.
[A beat.]
You're one of the strongest people I know.
[You've got strength that I don't have.]
no subject
But he doesn't say that. Lets the uncomfortable silence linger. Allows the only sound heard to be the rustling of his pants as he shifts his weight, placing a hand on his hip as he looks off towards the street.]
Yeah.
[He doesn't believe it. Not after seeing the testing at the school, not after the machines, the powers, the everything that's around him. At least in the city he had his skills as fighting–not everyone could use their powers to protect them. Not all of them were useful. Here people were trained. Here it was the norm.
Not even in chains had Baroona felt so powerless.] You should head back in. Your friend will get angry.
no subject
She swallows, and looks off to the side, feeling guilt nip at the edges of her subconscious.
What could she do to make him feel better? She doesn't want him to feel powerless.
Despite herself, she takes a few steps toward him, running a hand through her hair.]
Baroona, I----
[She suddenly halts and gives a start as she feels something fly against her cheek. Blinking, she puts a hand to where she felt contact.
There is blood on her fingers. She frowns, and starts to look around, briefly glancing at Baroona with a confused, but wary, look in her eyes; she can feel herself unconsciously tense up.
Her mind suddenly goes back to Konori's warnings, and her eyes narrow. No. No way...]
Hey. Keep an eye out. I think---
[The contact is harder this time, leaving a stinging cut on her upper left arm; but Mikoto turns and looks in time to see a figure in the distance, as well as several blades of grass suddenly glow and turn into a thin, knife-like blades that float up and take aim in their direction. Electricity courses through her body as the figure speaks.
"Misaka Mikoto, right? Huh. I thought you'd be a little quicker on your feet. Or are you just...distracted?"
The blades make their advance. Mikoto starts unleashing blasts of electricity to deflect them.
She can't tell Baroona to run. She knows he wouldn't listen.
She couldn't hide him away forever.]
Baroona! I'll throw him off!
[She grits her teeth as throws another blast, but gets cut in her shoulder and other forearm by stray blades.]
Get in there!
no subject
That voice.
He freezes up. doesn't hear Mikoto's orders to him. Just looks ahead, his shock and confusion abundantly clear.]
Michael?
[He whispers the question. That had been his voice, without a doubt and the closer the figure got, the more it became familiar. Walked like him, spoke like him, looked like him–just with darker skin.
Common sense tells him he's imagining the similarities. That he needs to get it together, fight off, help Mikoto. Prove his worth. But no matter what he says, his body won't move, his mind won't stop thinking.
Baroona is used to the dead coming back to life but there's a difference between the dead and Michael.]
no subject
Michael? Who is Michael?---but, no, he couldn't possibly know this guy. Then, why...
The boy chuckles imperiously, halting his initial assault. "While you being distracted would make my job easier, I prefer a challenge. The Number Three Level 5 and and an Esper who can leap through time itself..." his gaze takes on a vicious glint as he trains it on Baroona, smirk widening all the while. "...Quite a nasty team-up. It almost makes me giddy, you know?"
Mikoto hisses a bit due to the cuts, but nonetheless narrows her eyes and clenches her fists.
He's actually given her an idea. She moves a little in front of Baroona, unclenching one fist and leaving one finger pointed as a hint in his direction.] Don't push your luck. [He thinks Baroona's an Esper?! Konori-senpai was right...! But...why would they...? While her mind is racing, Mikoto swallows, trying to remain calm. The way this guy keeps looking at Baroona---it's clear his objective involves him, and she's not about to allow that to succeed.
He'd already protected her so many times. She had to return the favor.
He meant more to her than he'd ever know.] Who are you?
[The boy snickers. "My identity isn't that important. But before I borrow your friend there for a little chat, why don't we play some more?"
Mikoto tenses up as the boy holds out his hand toward a patch of grass; glowing, the blades float up and form into a fairly long sword, which he gives a bit of a swing. She points another finger.
If she can force this guy back, Baroona could easily flank him. Smiling cockily herself, she summons electricity to her own hand, gathering up iron sand to form into her famous chain sword.]
Gotta say nay to 'borrowing' him, but--- [She points one last finger, and promptly rushes at the boy, slashing and lashing at him; he merely laughs coldly as he parries and blocks her strikes. Lightning and grass-knives fly all over the park as she keeps him occupied, briefly glancing at Baroona to hopefully snap him out of his funk.] ---you're on!
lame tag lame tag
Until Mikoto blocks his view.
It's enough to snap him to his senses. Remind him that he's not fighting alone and propel him forward, understanding Mikoto's planned tactic without needing any words or clues. He moves fast and wide, hitting not from the back–too predictable–but from the side, darting in quick and low.]
hush dear don't say such things
The boy has a mocking look in his eyes. Mikoto hides her flinch behind a wince as a blade of razor-grass cuts the side of her forehead, while she furiously swings her sword in a downward lash, forcing the boy to block and skid backward somewhat, lining him up for Baroona's ambush.
But it's true, what he's saying. She is. For Baroona's sake. He's never seen her truly unleash the full extent of her abilities, and she...doesn't want him to see that side of her.
Not unless it was truly necessary. Mikoto holds back a gulp, refashions it into a smirk of her own as she stirs up more iron sand to form into needle-like stakes of her own to further pin him down in his position; he retaliates by deflecting them with more razors.] Too much of a pain, that's all.
[The boy shakes his head, swiftly and effortlessly lashing out with his sword in a wide arc, which Mikoto narrowly blocks; she can feel herself struggling under the force of the blow, and her knees are shaking as she wills herself to try and push him off.
"You're a Level 5. An Electromaster, at that. You could easily raze me to ashes. Come on. Throw a Railgun at me. I dare you."
Mikoto grits her teeth, eyes briefly flicking again toward Baroona as he's closing the distance.
She grins more genuinely this time.
This fight doesn't belong to just her.]
You're just not special enough for that kind of treatment!
[Mikoto uses her free hand to fire a direct blast at him, forcing him back another step. He laughs.
"Guess I'll just have to give you a reason, huh? A pity..."
And he turns around just as Baroona is within striking distance, grinning maliciously.
"...I was hoping to bring him in intact...think you can blink your way out of this?"
And a flurry of razor blades is summoned.]
nope
He's trying to distract you! Keep going!
noogies
Mikoto's eyes go wide with both alarm and anger. No. No. No, no, no, no. She has to do something. Anything. He had promised her. He told her he wouldn't die. She had promised him. She wouldn't leave him behind again.
She can't allow this.
It wasn't just the fact that she owed him for all the times he'd saved her. It was more than that.
To her, he was...
Mikoto grits her teeth. He had her back. She couldn't panic just yet.]
He's gonna have to do better than that!
[Baroona's strong. He can hang on a bit longer. He's faced worse.
Mikoto knows he is. Even if...he was about to end up with more scars on her account.
Even though knowing that made her feel awful. But battle was what he lived for. Victory or death. She clenches her fists, dispersing her sword and calling more electric waves. A torrent of iron sand gathers in the air around them. The boy seemingly gets thrown off, actually rearing back to avoid the sparks flying at him at such close range, but the iron sand gathers into chains that yank his arms back, causing him to drop his sword.
Mikoto pulls out an arcade token, feigning a Railgun to keep him further occupied. The boy chortles, struggling against his bindings.
"Well. Better to burn out than to fade away, right?"]
Like I said.
[Mikoto shakes her head, curling the coin back into her hand.]
You're not worth the effort.
[The boy suddenly outright grins, a cold, hard look filling his eyes.
"Then I'll say you royally screwed up, Misaka."
As Baroona closes in, the sword on the ground gathers more grass, forming into a large scythe---
Mikoto dashes forward, throwing a flurry of bolts the boy's way, only to have it blocked off by a wall of grass blades.]
----Baroona!
[----If he's not quick enough, that scythe will spin through the air around him and eventually cut him down; not deeply enough to kill him, but it can certainly incapacitate him.]