Baroona (
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.]
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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[Mikoto looks fairly sheepish when she says that last bit, scratching her chin. Kuroko was a monumental pain in the tuchus at times (well, 98.76% of the time, for accuracy's sake), but she was always there for Mikoto, no matter what. She went through pains to have her back and support her---and in all honesty? Mikoto couldn't ask for a better friend.
Even if that friend sexually harrassed her, but it wasn't as if Mikoto couldn't defend herself.
When she catches a whiff of the cig as they exit the alleyway back into the sidewalk, Mikoto shoots Baroona a pointed look.
And that's when her cell phone goes off. Perfect timing...!] Oh, and Baroona---while I don't care if you smoke, the authorities here do, especially since we're out here in the open again and they'll get on you stat if they detect the smoke. Put that out.
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What?
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Yet another hurdle she's going to have to make her way past. As if getting him to go along with her (hare-brained) plan wasn't difficult enough...
ALSO, SHE HAS A TEXT TO READ. IT IS VERY URGENT.]
Well, obviously, it's bad for you, and most people here are underage. So...they don't allow smoking, except in certain designated spots, but... [She huffs. The very last thing she needed was him getting into brawls with more undesirables, so she really can't believe she's telling him all of this---
---But then again, she doesn't want him to feel anymore caged in than he probably felt already.] ...You're gonna have to deal with thugs.
[A beat.]
And some of them have powers, too.
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I can deal with them.
[Powers or no. That was how the City had been, wasn't it? There wasn't much difference. More importantly:]
I'm going to smoke.
[No arguments.]
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...She supposed she could compromise, but...considering they're reaching the mall, and people are looking at Baroona funny, she still has to put her foot down.] Just save some idiots for me, okay? But, I'm serious! We're headed indoors! You can smoke lat---
["Smoke detected"----
Mikoto lets out a growl.
God
dammit. She tosses Baroona her worst look. Honestly, she wasn't prepared to live the Thug Life™ this early!] Go in! Now!
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Help.]
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sweet lolita if you wanna be daring but i'd just stick with stuff that's preppy and simple!! :> what's up? giving someone a makeover?
[Mikoto has to stifle a laugh as she quickly puts her phone away, but that quickly dies down the moment she sees Baroona standing rather rigidly a few steps away, looking fairly panicked. Her snort morphs into a small groan.
Soooo...first public transportation, and now modern establishments.
What luck. You know, if he wasn't an important person in her life...]
......We're going to have to stick to the ground floor, aren't we?
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I'm fine.
[Said maybe a bit too stiffly. He turns back towards the escalators, reluctantly walking towards them. Occasionally glancing back just to make sure Mikoto is following him–especially when he freezes at the base. Then it's just a back and forth between her and the steps sliding out and up, their teeth jutting out like fangs. Baroona clutches the railing for support, noticing that it moved a moment to late. It drags him forward and he stumbles onto the escalator, freezing once he's regained his balance and death-gripping the stupid moving railing as he looks down at Mikoto, terrified.]
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