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
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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.]
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Can I take this thing off now?
[Jabbing a finger at his wig while he talks.]
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Oh.
He is speaking to her. Mikoto sharply looks up from where she's been standing, crossing her arms and thinking.
She may or may not have had this really doofy look on her face the entire time. She nods, willing herself to look more nonchalant.]
Oh, yeah. For now, anyway.
[She grins.]
I think I've got it now...how I'm gonna get you into my school.
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Why do I need to get into your school?
[The thought of dorms is completely foreign to him. School in general is an alien entity, even with his time at the Institute. Did it really count as school if he was removed from all the other students because of his age?
He could see the merit in it but with how old he was, it just felt uncomfortable. Made him apprehensive to go back.
Just as apprehensive as he felt now, watching that grin on Mikoto's face. Baroona squints, pulling back slightly.]
What is it...?
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[Mikoto gives him a meaningful look. Come on, man, what's a little (understatement) loss of dignity in exchange for free housing? And food? And, uh...other stuff?
Also, if she paid for a hotel room, it'd look really suspicious on the bank account. Mom wouldn't care; in fact, she'd just find it amusing and come up with all sorts of insane scenarios as to why Mikoto would do such a thing. And then those scenarios, or at least one of them, would make their way back to Dad, who would proceed to interrogate her.
Nope, not happening. And besides...
...She's already envisioning Baroona as the Mysterious Meganekko Transfer Student™. He'd...just have to not talk.
Mikoto has to stifle a laugh, but he knows her too well, so she has no other choice but to come clean. And he's not that old (physically speaking? Ye Olde Fantasyland was strange.)! She blurts out:]
Baroona, how do you feel about pretending to be a girl?
[Snerk.]
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Instead, in this world, she gets a glare. One of the angriest, no-nonsense ones Baroona can muster, near bristling at the suggestion. His mouth thins into a frown which he first aims at Mikoto, then the wig in his hand.
He should have left it behind. Chances were that if it weren't present right now, Mikoto never would have suggested her ridiculous plan in the first place.
And that's when Baroona pauses, eyes lighting up with the spark of an idea. Anger washes over and off of him and his neutral expression comes back in full force. He pulls his lighter out and pulls the wig above it, lighting the tips and watching the fire crawl up the strands. When it creeps too far he lets it go, dropping it in the street while he turns and walks away, tucking the lighter back into his pocket.]
No.
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Mikoto just linefaces. First at the glaring (been there, done that), and then at the burning of the---
Oh
She groans, storming right after him. Y e p. Life in Academy City just got a lot more difficult. The City was one thing---law enforcement was far more lax when it came to minor incidents, but...]
Seriously, Baroona?! Don't you know that's a fire---
[She cut herself off as she hears the familiarwhirr of the security robots making their way to the scene. Smoke detected in non-smoking area.
Face. Palm. Sonnuvabitch. Mikoto breaks into a run, grabbing Baroona's arm and tossing him an irritated look.] ---idiot! Come on! Those stupid robots are going to start searching for cigarettes, which I'm sure you've got on you!
[But, dammit, where could they go now---Mikoto huffs, trying to think. Pretty much everyone, their mother, their grandparents, and their aunts and uncles saw her with Baroona during the parade...
And just when things couldn't get worse, Mikoto's phone goes off again. Yanking it out, she growls---]
ONEE-SAMA!!!!! WHO IS THIS SHADY-LOOKING GUY WITH YOU?!?!?!?! IT'S ALL OVER THE SOCIAL NETWORKING SITES AND BLOGS!!!!!
[Mikoto's face twists into abject horror at the number of links attached to the above frantic message from Kuroko. Her lips curl into a snarl, and electricity shoots past her head as she gives Baroona her worst look.]
Will you just trust me on this one and go with my plan?! What happened during the parade is frickin' breaking news, and everyone knows who you are! I won't be able to be seen with you now without people making a stupid scene!
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[Baroona's a fast runner. There's every reason he could match her pace and make it easier for them to flee. Does he do it? No. To the contrary–he lets Mikoto drag him in a small act of revenge. Payback for the crossdressing suggestion, the dragging him around, the minimum explanations of everything that's going on.
He's cranky but he meets Mikoto's glare coolly.]
I don't mind.
[Granted, all the attention Mikoto garnered was annoying but not to the degree Mikoto treated it. He could ignore crowds and photo flashes.]
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Still, to their credit, they've reached a courtyard of sorts in between a few apartment buildings, so they should be golden for the time being, unless a certain someone pulled stupid shit again---
----She lets go of him and sighs loudly, leaning against a nearby wall, looking up exasperatedly at the sky.
Well.
She supposes she should give him more intel.
Even though she doesn't want him getting involved in the slowly-unraveling conspiracy that was casting its shadow over Academy City. Even though she doesn't want him knowing the true, awful nature of what they did to people like her for the sake of finding a way to achieve Level 6.
But he's her friend (or was it something a little stronger than that, at this point? ugh, not now...). He has her back. She knows he does...yet was it worth throwing him in harm's way, despite him having no powers?
Mikoto scratches her head. As if he'd back down, the idiot.]
Yeah? Well, it's not just my classmates you have to worry about. A suspicious guy who suddenly shows up and just happens to know Tokiwadai's Ace! [She rolls her eyes after doing that impression of a newscaster.] Judgment's gonna get involved and think that maybe you're a spy or something. Kuroko's a member of their outfit, too, and she's not gonna interrogate nice. Along with Anti-Skill, they're more or less law enforcement here, so that'll be out of my hands. That's why I was hoping to just have you blend in.
[She crosses her arms, looking a bit perturbed.]
You came at a bad time. A lot of weird stuff's been going on. They're pointing fingers everywhere. The secret experiments make the city look bad.
oH GOD I ONLY HAVE HIS SAD ICONS LEFT I JUST REMEMBERED
They're going to arrest me?
[There it is again. An unmistakeable sincerity to his voice. He looks at her, honest and open, the question pressing his brows and showing a scant trace of fear.
As with anything with him, it's brief. He looks away almost immediately, eyes moving down to the ground. It made no sense why they would move that fast. Even if everything was going on–he hadn't broken any laws. They had no reason to hunt him. Or at least they wouldn't in a normal world. But there was no saying that Mikoto's home was anything like the City or Chronos or anything he had experienced. He had no idea if the laws had been breached, if he'd be arrested, interrogated, taken prisoner.
In the end, the fear of being rebound and restricted scares him more than his pride can protest. There's a disconnect he resents. The expected naivety of being a new world made worse by the fact that Mikoto is at its center, knowledgable about everything, while all he can do is spiral around lost.
He has to depend on her and it kills him.]
... Fine.
it's fate greer
You're just lucky you're even alive, I bet. With this in mind, she has to be honest with him. She exhales a bit, crossing her arms and casting her gaze a little to the ground.] There's a chance, yeah. [And I know how you can get.] Look, Baroona...
[Another deep breath, and she tucks a bit of hair behind her ear. She knows how useless and helpless he must feel right now---Saten used to struggle with those feelings too, being powerless, a Level 0 herself; so desperate was she to feel useful and accepted that she turned to the Level Upper...
...And very nearly died.
Mikoto doesn't want that to happen to Baroona. She also knows he's used to brushing elbows with death, but...he can only be so lucky for so long.
She doesn't want to lose him. Not after he'd helped her so much.] ...I wouldn't make you do this otherwise.
[And with that, she kicks off the wall, takes a few steps toward him, and puts her one hand lightly on his shoulder, looking up at him somewhat awkwardly.] I mean...you trust me, right?
[Or so she (secretly) hopes.]
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Isn't that obvious?
[It sounds almost reluctant–not as a sign of mistrust but rather speaking through the dread of what he knew was to come. Begrudgingly, he asks, gaze averted once again:] What do we have to do?
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[Mikoto turns a slight pink and averts her own eyes once more; uh...no. No, it wasn't. That's why she asked. Since when was it obvious? Was it ever obvious?
......Or rather, why was she only noticing it now? The way he so readily approached her in front of all those people; all the times he's opened up; how he only ever lightened up when it was just the two of them---considering her a friend was one thing, but...trust?
That was a sign of something deeper. Mikoto grumbles slightly, fingering her chin.] ----I-I just wanted to be sure!
[.......She doesn't want to dwell upon that. There were more pressing issues to attend to. Crossing her arms, trying to look authoritative, Mikoto decides to at least give Baroona a choice. It was only fair.
Though, it's funny how he's looking away now. Pfft.]
Well, I can hook you up with some kinda hotel room, and make stuff up to my parents and to anyone who asks, but that'll probably end up getting real complicated, real fast.
[A beat.]
Or there's my original plan. It'll be easier to lie to the faculty about you being an exchange student my parents are hosting, since I'm...pretty much the top student in my school. I know it's super-humiliating, but...no one'll be able to track you down if you're in disguise.
[She shrugs.] It's your call.
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Won't I have to stay that way forever? If I drop the disguise you'll get in trouble.
[It's not exactly how he wants to live his life. Tricks and disguises are fine to survive but not to live on. It's too much stress. He wouldn't be able to keep it up–not for a long period. His own frustration with the situation would get in the way.
Mikoto probably hasn't accounted for that. She might not have accounted for a lot of things.]
How would I talk? I'm not changing my voice. If I don't talk people will get suspicious and what if your parents visit?
[A beat; his eyes narrow.] You want me to keep up a complete disguise. How is that less complicated? Have you actually thought this through?
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[Mikoto growls somewhat, her own frustration beginning to seep into her features. It's mainly because he brings up good points, and there's also the implication that, yes, she hasn't really gotten things squared out just yet.
More importantly, the implication is actually right on the money. The plan started out as a joke. A part of her still found it to be an absolute riot, but now reality's hit and it bites.
He's right.
He's always right, and it drives her up the wall. Planning and strategizing were a huge part of his life as a soldier---where there could be no errors. An error meant defeat, capture, or even death.
Goddammit. Mikoto starts pacing around to keep her temper from rising any more than it already has; she couldn't lash out at him. None of this was his fault (er, mostly, anyway).] ...We'll figure something out, okay? [As hilarious as it is, she just knows she's going to feel awkward seeing him as a girl after a while, especially if it goes on for an extended period of time.
And then there is Kuroko. The moment that one 'catches' Mikoto with a 'new woman' in her life...crap.
She'd really have to come up with something convincing. A huff.] For now, I'll just say that you can't speak Japanese and that I'm your...interpreter, I guess. Mom won't really care...
[She wrinkles her nose, looking exasperated.
Misaka Misuzu wasn't...quite your conventional mom. In fact, she was very unconventional.]
...In fact, she'll probably just try to drag you with us when we go shopping. I'll...have to talk to some people ahead of time, though.
[Her expression relaxes. Hopefully Konori-senpai would understand if she explained the situation; or maybe...
----Ugh, she's not good at these things.] I'll make this work. No one's gonna come after you.
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Maybe if it would make things easier for her...
He sighs.]
You could be my interpreter if we go with your first plan. It'd explain why I can't talk. You can tell your parents your school assigned you to me. They do stuff like that, right?
[The things he does for you, Mikoto.] I don't think people would buy it for long but we could probably use it until we think of a better plan.
[It would make going outside together easier. He can't believe he's agreeing to this. It's practically grumbled out and you can damn well bet he's not meeting her eyes:] That still leaves making me look convincing.
[not as hard as you think baroona but ok]
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[Mikoto sees that aversion of the eyes on Baroona's end and sighs; now she's feeling guilty for more or less (more) making him humiliate himself. Splendid.
THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE FUNNY. Oh, how you stick her with all of these increasingly awkward feels, Baroona.
Still, she doesn't see any of this as troublesome or burdensome, for once. At least, not because it's him. If this is what it would take to keep him out of the underbelly of Academy City, then so be it. All minor annoyances and conflicted feelings aside, he was...important to her, and the last thing she wants is for him to find himself in a bind on her account.
...It had already happened one too many times.
Mikoto scratches her chin, her mouth quirking.]
Well, for one, you need another wig; secondly, we have to make you look unrecognizable.
[A beat, and she slaps the bottom of her fist into her palm.]
...Maybe you can wear glasses...
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Can it be less itchy than that one?
[Jabs a finger back in the direction of wherever the last burned wig is, he considers the potential of glasses.]
Would I be able to see with them?
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(It'll still be a long-haired wig, though. Looking back, he really did look like a girl with the other, deceased wig on.It's something even she knows better than to vocalize, however.
She's not that cruel.)]
...I'll see what I can find. [She nods at his next question.] Uh-huh. I can get you fake glasses.
[She's trying her darndest not to let her imagination go wild again.
It's kind of hard, but meganekko Baroona...
Nope, still funny.]
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Shouldn't we start looking?
[Waits for a response but grows impatient.] You're not imagining anything suspicious, are you?
[More suspicious, really. "I want to turn you into a woman" is already pretty bad.]
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She rolls her eyes, making a soft 'pssh' noise.]
Now why the heck would I do that? [DON'T FLATTER YOURSELF. Well, no, she's two steps ahead of the game there.] What do you take me for, a pervert? But since you're so impatient, let's go to the mall.
[She pauses in the middle of walking ahead of him.
Oh.
There is the matter of public transportation.
Mikoto groans.]
....You'd rather walk, wouldn't you?
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I'm not stepping foot on anything else.
[FIRMLY SAID. And hoping she doesn't get the idea to drug him like Tom did.]
Walking's fine.
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Seriously?
(ALSO SHUT UP HER THOUGHTS ARE PERFECTLY INNOCENT OK...well, as innocent as imagining a boy crossdressing can possibly get. Which is a whole other hot-button debate in itself.)
Mikoto throws up her hands in defeat. Cool your jets, Miss Daisy.]
Alright, alright. God, you are so lucky I don't dislike you, Baroona.
[She runs a hand through her hair, and covertly sends the following text message to one Saten Ruiko while making as if she's checking the time---]
what style would go good with glasses?
[If only because it's Saten who's the otaku, not her.]
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[Said with one raised brow as he closes the gap between them, trying to peek over her shoulder at what she's writing. Curiosity killed the cat.]
Who are you talking to?
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[COME ON, NOW. Mikoto, upon sensing his approach, smoothly puts her phone down. Tosses him a feigned nonchalant look.]
It's just Kuroko worrying again. Nothing important.
[Though, she makes sure to also covertly put her cell phone on vibrate, with the press of a button.
Have fun uncovering the mysteries of modern technology, Sherlock.]
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[With suspicion, he watches Mikoto put it away though his interest evaporates once its out of site. He lights another cigarette because I forget if he was already smoking one, yolo.]
Should we get going?
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