[ he nods right along with him; not at least thinking about it would make him an asshole, and while he might be sometimes, Shinsou's not garnered his ire. rather the opposite, he seems smart and, more importantly, taking life's hard knocks right on the chin. the ways in which Guanshan doles out respect are few and far between, but fortitude is high up there. ]
[ contemplative silence draws out as he stays with the emotions of nostalgia, allowing himself to follow the invisible tendril straight to fondness and embarrassment, a jarring contrast to the humiliation and self-loathing (and ultimately, thankfully, payoff) he'd felt at the time. hindsight's 20/20. looking back now, he knows what worked and what didn't. ]
Trust first. [ before lust and attraction, force and necessity, before carefully curated research and led-astray social conventions and expectations, Guanshan knows this: ] Trust whoever it is to protect you.
[ that kind of trust. not just with secrets and vulnerabilities, but someone with a sentinel's temper who will still care after the deed. protective people are the ones Guanshan knows as the most loyal and least likely to fuck you over in the end. never mind the choice to give advice on who instead of any other how where when nouns that says plenty about him as a person; aren't most people beyond understanding this baseline? ]
( shinsou's expression clears in a moment of faint surprise, though it takes only a moment for it to resolve once more into his typical stoicism. the answer simply wasn't really one he had expected in that moment, from this stranger — but even as he inwardly remarks on this, he scolds himself, thinking that he of all people should know better than to make baseless assumptions. it might be something woven into the fabric of human nature, sure, but it's one shinsou's felt the abrasion of more often than most; that rawness makes him more mindful, but it's neither universal or perfect.
he watches him for a moment, and then he first responds in a way somewhat uncharacteristic for him: he smiles, and for shinsou it's always a faint and fledgling sort of thing when genuine, as if either unpracticed or unconfident (though usually it is a mixture of the two). he hums, thoughtful; the fingers of his left hand fidget with a bandage on the right that was beginning to fray. )
Okay. I'll keep that in mind.
( he's silent another moment, looking out over the crush of myriad newcomers and the array of gems that were seemingly doing their best to accommodate them. it's not an uneasy silence; he seems pensive, but not as off-balance as he had been several minutes ago. then, seemingly dredged from his thoughts: ) And do what you can to protect them, I'd guess?
( because if that was the case, they would be trusting you to do so. )
[ amethyst. it had to have been in one of the myriad new age books he read years ago before leaving home — how it's supposed to be some kind of protective gem. a kitschy, ostentatious article with an old auntie talking about how she sneaked one into her "treasure"'s car to ward for accidents and collisions that Guanshan had rolled his eyes at then but now recalls with an alien, anachronistic clarity. ]
[ Shinsou's eyes make him think of the darkest part of an amethyst. what lies beyond that — crystal-clear purity, and then some hard and jagged outer shell? he finds himself exploring the flecks of light and dark only to (perhaps politely, perhaps bashfully) pull his gaze away when there's a soft smile, like he'd seen something he isn't sure he was supposed to. he gets it. for the already rare mischievous grins or triumphant smirks he's allotted, genuinely smiling is rarer. ]
[ hard world, hard mouth. thinking to break the tension, Shinsou beats him to it. ]
...I guess. [ it doesn't really occur to him until then — that the other person in the scenario could have flesh as delicate as it is enticing. his partner's wasn't. but this is not his experience for his own narrative to control, so he relents after a beat: ] Yeah. F'yer both operatin' that way, things'll go a lot smoother. Even if it's awkward and embarrassing and weird, it's always gonna be awkward and embarrassing and weird.
[ good for yourself is the goal, but good for both is irrefutably better. ]
( this is something that shinsou is always concerned with. sometimes he wonders if perhaps he should be self-conscious of how one-note his life has been, these last few years, but he had bowed dutifully beneath the weight of what he knew would be required in order to achieve his goal. though there were exceptions, the easiest path to becoming a professional hero was time-sensitive. you study your ass off and prepare yourself and your quirk as best as you can for entry exams into prestigious schools with hero courses. and then that's just the first step of your grueling trek — and you couldn't for a single moment complain in that, because it was exactly what you signed up for in the beginning.
he dedicates so much time, thought... hell, so much of himself to that single thought: what is it, to be a hero? where he's from, this is not necessarily a clear-cut question, as people entered what was now an industry for plenty of different reasons. money, prestige, fame — but, to shinsou, these had always seemed like distractions. he does not particularly enjoy the limelight, and he doesn't exactly function well in it either. he doesn't really need a lot to live contently. no, for him it had always been about perception. whatever few, tiny, youthful embers of admiration for heroes he had (as anyone else that age might) felt as a kid had only been fed and fanned by the mistrust and prejudice he had faced up until high school. he wants to stand tall before those same people as a hero, with nothing but his quirk and his own strength and merit, and force them to admit to themselves that they had had it wrong all this time.
it seems so ridiculous to think of it in such a way, but there's something in the way he feels about that aspiration that shares dna with what he thinks about now. to — share something like that with another person? well, he would want something similar: to present and be accepted for himself in entirety, quirk and all, in a mutual understanding.
...melodramatic, but aren't most teenagers when it comes to shit like that?
he's almost a little surprised that what he'd mentioned hadn't occurred more to the guy, and he finds himself stifling another smile, though this one is far more at guanshan's expense. it just tells him something about him: that he's more interested in taking shelter in someone than offering it, though perhaps he's reading a bit too much into it.
shinsou wouldn't have been able to guess his response to all of this, but it ends up being... laughter. he chuckles under his breath as he rocks forward to situate his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his open palms. he scrubs his face with bandaged hands. he's feeling kind of awkward and embarrassed and weird right now with this reaction, but, well... from coming to in the crater to sitting here with guanshan, he had been slowly twisting into a tangle of apprehension and anxiety. something had to give, but he would have to admit, he feels a lot better as he lowers one arm to rest across his knee, his chin remaining in the other palm. he looks sidelong at guanshan with a crooked smile that was far more confident, though that's only because it was gently mocking. ) You are really selling this.
[ to sit there feeling like you've missed out on the joke is a feeling that sends him back to teenage melodrama with a quickness despite his age having just recently shed the label. old habits die hard. suspicion narrows him, sharp eyes getting sharper, frown gaining renewed depths as Shinsou sums him up so succinctly. it's a shame that part of him decides the younger man looks distinctly handsome in this light; he's not unused to tired, dark eyes regarding him with an amusement he doesn't share and a twinge of something from the past feels familiar and Pavlovian. he wishes he could say he hated it. ]
Tuh. [ under a dusting of freckles, his already coppery features tinge just a bit pinker as he jerks the angle of his chin away in defiance. ] Who's more embarrasin', the salesman or the sucker buyin' it?
[ barb for perceived barb, harmless little things that prick passersby and stick to their jeans. which is his true nature — the shelter-seeking pseudo-sage, or the vengeful little hothead? maybe the stray who drools at the dinner bell. ]
And anyway... [ what anyway? he doesn't want to talk about this anymore either — ] Who the hell're you?
( fortunately (or unfortunately?) for guanshan, there isn't really a joke. there is just the harsh, bracing forward edge of a new reality that shinsou will still probably need a week or two to gradually adjust to, and his brain was just about desperate for anything to latch onto so as to relieve some of the stress. if he had an eye on the guy throughout, he probably would have felt worse about laughing — it was certainly not directed at him but, rather, the light the whole situation was painted in by what he said. as it is, he watches with a feline sort of curiosity as he makes a point of looking away, and not without a parting shot.
shinsou's cheshire grin notches a degree or two wider. is he embarrassed? he has no idea what he has to be embarrassed about, given the shambles that shinsou's life is inevitably going to fall into as soon as they arrive to wherever-the-hell they are going. but in this moment he allows himself to savor a sense of enjoyment in — what, his misery having a little more company? that doesn't seem very heroic, but he's never claimed to be perfect... )
Point taken.
( he pivots only enough to take a glancing blow from the barb, smile dying down but still leaving an impression on his expression, like footprints not yet washed away by the tide.
he's content enough to leave the topic behind as well. this one is far easier (and leagues less mortifying). ) Shinsou Hitoshi. ( another sidelong glance. ) You?
[ introductions enough to put him far away from the heat. rather, he appreciates him for not pushing it, and Guanshan relents by offering an inch in return, relenting back into something more companionable. just as he's got his mouth open to say something else, he's interrupted by a tinny voice over the intercoms: ]
Now boarding flight #233-B: departure from Nova Mobile Sky Station to Sumarlok Hub. Those ready to depart, please report to—
[ he tunes it out about halfway through, glancing back over at Shinsou. well, pajamas and no shoes, but he looks like he might be as ready as he'll ever be. and maybe it's not entirely for his benefit either; Guanshan isn't exactly the most altruistic person in the universe. he certainly has no aspirations to be anyone's hero, anyway, and he instinctively there's safety in numbers even when he normally opts to ignore it. still, he stands, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving a nod towards the direction he knows the departure bay is in. ]
Heard we're supposed'a to go to a embassy after this to get registered and assigned a place to stay. Wanna head down and stick together?
[ congrats, Shinsou, you're unofficially being offered an adoption. ]
( shinsou has all the situational sensitivity of a person who has had a point pushed to bruising far too many times throughout his life — he could recognize the minute tells of sore tenderness because he can sense when he too begins to commit them, left too long under the lamp of unwanted attention, comments, or "jokes." he knows better, relenting and lapsing back into a relatively silence, theirs an island in the sea of activity that was the rest of the space station.
his eyes flicker upwards to where he assumes the intercom system is. a flight, huh? he frowns; the gem that had gone to get him more clothes had never returned, either having gotten side-tracked by other needs that needed to be attended to or having lost him in the crowd. it's fine. he's gotten this far as ill-equipped as he was, so he's certain he can make it the last leg of the marathon. fortunately, he's no longer embarrassed being caught out like this.
he looks over to track the movement of guanshan standing; he blinks owlishly at the offer. in retrospect it might seem like a fairly obvious, standard one, but in the moment, shinsou is appreciative for not having to continue to go about all of this alone. he stands in turn, nodding. ) If we're both going to the same place, yeah, I don't see why not.
[ corridors narrow and coldly lit, Guanshan leads them to the terminal for departures with a steady pace, keeping Shinsou at his side despite his long stride; there's always an intentionality with things where he actually manages to be considerate. likewise, after they're checked in as otherworlders and given their assigned seats, he steps aside to let Shinsou have the one closest to the window. should be a pretty amazing view, going from a space station to floating island dusted with winter's snow. ]
[ ...not that it stops Guanshan from crowding him as their vessel departs to try and watch the show too. as they descend, a skyline that bruises black and purple speckled with stars gets gradually warmer, sunstruck yellows and fiery golds that alight their new home in Sumarlok, the brilliant refraction of sheeted snow sparkling and blinding both. ]
Uoh...
[ this, he realizes, is probably the worst possible weather to get caught with no shoes and in pajamas. the pang of sympathy smarts, and Guanshan pulls back from pressing his shoulder into Shinsou's — ]
...You could borrow my socks and I'll give you a piggyback ride? [ he's trying here. ]
( shinsou doesn't struggle to keep up — guanshan is roughly the same height as his mentor, and over the last few months, he's gotten used to keeping pace. his companion doesn't seem to be very chatty in transit, and it doesn't bother shinsou at all. he lapses into thought. it's good that they're getting out of this space station and down to the planet... right? he hopes it will make things feel more normal. more — real? he still expects to wake up to his alarm the next morning, on the day of that test he had in his third period, and remark on what a weird dream he'd had the night before.
but as they get onto the shuttle and shinsou takes his seat next to the window (a gesture which he appreciates and thanks guanshan for), he starts to think there's far too much to this for it to be just in his head. this world seems so bizarre yet so actualized in a way he could never imagine: the planet below, with these islands floating above. they move toward one of those floating cities, one which was thoroughly shrouded in wintery snow.
he sees this around the same time guanshan does; his stomach drops with the realization. just his luck... and he thought being dressed like this in the crater would've been the worst of it.
he's scrubbing his hand down his face when guanshan makes his offer. he stops to look at him through the gap of two splayed fingers, and he hesitates before giving a weak smile. ) ...Maybe. If there's no one around wherever we land who can help. ( a last-ditch hope that someone down there would carry out the humanitarian help he'd missed out on the space station? he'd prefer not actually have to take guanshan up on the offer, both not to inconvenience him but also because it would be really embarrassing — )
We don't really have any money to buy anything, do we...
Not 'til we get to the embassy, so I hear. S'gonna be a walk.
[ the details Guanshan had latched on to with utmost keenness: stipend and free government living. it's the least they can do, so he thinks, if they're funding the bulk of Sumarlok's economy and — magical stability or whatever the fuck it is Manna does. he doesn't really have the capacity to grasp the larger issues, but he knows when he's getting the shit end of a stick. ]
[ embarrassing, sure, he gets it. but if he's gonna have Shinsou living in his same apartment, there'll be ample ways to make him reciprocate something — but Guanshan's always preferred to owe the people he knows rather than total strangers. ]
Kinda makes you wonder why they wear clothes at all. They're just kinda like... rocks, right?
[ which earns a very disapproving look from a flight attended. err... ]
( shinsou's expression deflates. of course that's how things would shake out. he knows he probably should have listened a little more carefully to the mechanics of all of that — they were definitely incredibly important, given that they detailed how they were going to be living day-to-day here and all — but he had... not really been in the best state to be receptive to new information. he sighs, shoulders rounding as he slouches in his seat. )
...Okay. If there's no other options, that's probably the best one we have. ( a pause, then: ) Thanks.
( he breaks his gaze away from the window and glances to guanshan as he continues; the sharp, disapproving look from the passing flight attendant causes him to jolt upright a centimeter or so in his seat. he clears his throat and then replies to him, though in a comparatively much softer undertone, ) Even if that's the case, they can still have propriety, you know.
[ the gratitude earns little more than a grunt in return, not one to make a big deal out of services owed — at least not until the time is right. whatever social faux pas he just committed that Shinsou seems to be privy to despite just arriving (how weird is that!), it's lost on Guanshan. what, is he the kinda guy to dress his house pet up so they don't bring shame upon the household? ]
[ then, a quizzical look. ] Sure. Who owns their house ain't got shit ta do with me.
[ a case of literal "propriety, what's that?" and Guanshan simply deciding he must've meant property. while Shinsou surely riddles out just how stupid he might possibly be, an ear perks to an overhead announcement freeing them all from their seats and being asked to file out in a neat an orderly line. well — ]
( ...okay, so it had been a little too generous to expect guanshan to know what propriety is, let alone have any. he'll just keep that in mind.
as it is, shinsou has to turn his head to the window so his companion doesn't have quite as clear a view of the sneaking smile stealing across his face. though, honestly, he does raise a good point... being gems or rocks or whatever would make one think they're inorganic. so if that's the case, how do they —
no, nope. he's not going down this rabbit hole right now.
he glances up when the intercom pings on and announces their arrival. goes to show how technologically-advanced these people were, though he shouldn't have been surprised, considering what he had seen ever since he had been rescued from the crater. he looks to guanshan and gives him a nod, gesturing. he's... technically in his way, considering shinsou had been given the window seat. )
After you.
—
( the sky shuttle station is far more like grand central station for him to expect much by the way of continued humanitarian care. that's not great for his situation, but fortunately many of the new arrivals are pointed toward another form of transportation that will be very useful for both of them. the signs call them "flashpoints," though to shinsou's eyes they just look like phone booths. perhaps two dozen of them are lined up against one of the walls, and after watching several gems stride into them, fiddle with the controls, and then vanish (assumedly to somewhere else in the city), small groups of gembonded begin to detach and try it out for themselves.
in any other situation, shinsou would probably prefer just walk, not entirely willing to risk his life with some technology he's unfamiliar with. but this isn't any situation, and it would drastically cut down the time he'd have to be carried, probably. they might even be able to teleport directly to the embassy.
he glances up to guanshan and gestures toward the line of booths. ) What do you think? Should we try it out? ( apparently it's free. )
[ and here Guanshan was just prepared to hoof it — but as soon as Shinsou points out the Flashpoint, it's like the pieces slot together seamlessly. ]
Oh, it's like a Prismanode. Yeah we can use that.
[ familiarity apparent, there's no lack of confidence when he claims a booth for them. it takes him a moment to reorient with the new technology — but like any youngster constantly inundated with ever-advancing applied sciences, it only takes shifting through a few menus to fully digest what he's seeing. he could twist the district-separated three dimensional map this way and that to find a nearby Flashpoint, but he finds a menu full of major landmarks for quick access and the embassy is listed right at the top. ]
Awright. Hey, lock that, it won't work 'til we do.
[ yeah, he's just gonna crowd both of them in here. it's fine, not like they'll come out conjoined twins on the other side or anything. surely. ]
( he has no idea what a "prismanode" is, but if guanshan has some sort of familiarity with this thing, he'll take it. it's a hell of a lot better of an option than the alternative.
shinsou supplies enough caution for the two of them as he lags a bit behind, giving the booth a critical look up and down as he stands just outside. as the other guy navigates the menu to find their destination, shinsou scans the walls, looking for any glaring warning: one person at a time, or else, gruesome death!
there's none of the sort, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about this thing accidentally blending them instead of just transporting them. )
Oh. ( he hesitates, but then he steps inside, closing and securing the door behind them. )
Okay. ( deep breath in. deep breath out. fighting back a fledgling feeling of placebo vertigo lodged in his gut. ) Ready.
[ just like that, the drive engages, the world beyond the windows smearing into a painter's brushstrokes as their applied, a moving mosaic of color. their bodies feel nothing, feet stationary on the ground — little more than a tingling sensation like a shiver of goosebumps glittering through the nerves. the pictures rearrange themselves between the framing of the booth, gone from bustling landing dock to the even more clamorous whirlwind of life just outside of the embassy. ]
[ accustomed to the extreme change in settings in so, so very many ways, Guanshan moves on like nothing dimension-breaking had occurred at all. it all becomes very rote after a certain point. he pushes the door open and spills himself out, six senses noticing little more than the change in the way the air smells from one location to the next. it's fresher, here. ]
Awright. Sign-in, devices, assigned livin', supplemental income— [ oh, those big words he knows. the ones about money he can rattle off on each fingertip. right. — wait, he should check on his new buddy. ] You gonna make it, champ?
( travel is the process of one physically moving through the world, but in this machine, it works in a way that doesn't adhere to this at all: the world seems to move around them, and it causes his stomach to lurch violently despite the fact that they had been standing perfectly still throughout. what one could see of the transportation hub out the windows twists and warps until it snaps back into a clear picture again. the embassy, he would guess, though he has to tear his gaze away from it; he feels sick, and it's currently taking all of his mental processing power to center himself and not puke on guanshan, who has been nothing but generous to him since they met.
fortunately for the both of him, he manages to do this. it does take him a moment, though. he remains standing where he is, half-leaning into the corner of the booth, eyes closed and his hand over his mouth. distantly, he can hear each word that guanshan says, but they pixelate and disjoint in his mind until the question finally filters through. it's a few seconds after it's been asked, but shinsou open his eyes; he looks pale, but considerably less green than he had been a moment before. )
...Fine. (sure, you are. what he is is good enough to move, at the very least, so he separates from the wall and follows guanshan out of the flashpoint, glancing around the space the booths emptied out into. fortunately, it was inside the building, which further limited how much they'd have to be outside through this whole process.
he glances to his companion and nods, indicating they can go to whatever line they have to stand in — but he thinks more about what he'd heard him said, and something occurs to him. ) Is that how it worked, the last place you were at? They assigned a place for you to live?
( it's not so odd for him. UA had built dorms for all of their students within the last few months, after all. but he had known all of those people. is he going to have to live with a bunch of strangers? )
[ concern puts a halt in his pace, another reminder of why he brought this guy along with him in the first place — green behind the ears meant green under the eyes too, apparently. not for the first time, even before Shinsou questions him in turn, he realizes just how much experience has tempered him, and the memory of his first similar ride is enough to churn his guts, like thinking so hard on the past it manifests. ]
[ or maybe he's just prone to extreme empathy. either way, the steadying weight of his palm settles on Shinsou's shoulder, an awkward but earnest attempt at what little comfort he can provide. ]
Had more options there. This place is a little more, uh... [ and here he begins to glance around, taking in the foreign and opulent architecture, the bustle all around them. god, he hopes they don't have to wait in line for a fucking age. ] Red tape and caution signs. Ya know?
[ everything on the planet beneath Sumarlok is insanity and chaos — makes sense they'd have a government accustomed to handling that. attention checking back onto Shinsou again, he moves when he seems less motionsick, stepping over into the line labeled ARRIVALS. it moves surprisingly quickly, forcing them to shuffle forward a few times almost immediately. they've got the bureaucratic shit down, at least. ]
[ when a clerk opens up, she takes Guanshan's information down first — and it's thorough. name, age, sex, height and weight. "in case something happen," is an ominous truth he's long-since accepted. seeming to notice Shinsou hanging close by, he pulls his new comrade into the conversation. ]
We was hopin' to be assigned together.
[ "This isn't a slumber party," is the severe chide in return. ]
( fortunately, his wave of nausea is not a lasting one. with the ground once again solid beneath his feet and his surroundings congealed into something present and real, he grows more hale by the moment. still, he is a few shades pale when guanshan puts a hand on his shoulder; he glances up to him, sparing a faint, appreciative smile.
then it's time to move on.
it had been part of the gems' spiel back on the space station that they would taken care of, once they were delivered to the city that was to host them. the actual details of that had been something he'd missed. upon leaving the flashpoint and taking stock of his surroundings here at the embassy, he picks up on exactly what guanshan is telling him: bureaucracy. no, the prospect of standing in a line for however long isn't a thrilling one, but there's an odd sense of comfort of things working the same here as they had at home — hero society was something built heavily upon bureaucratic foundations as well.
just as the process had been back on the space station, they seem to have this down to a science. the line at arrivals moves quickly, and soon enough they're ushered from the front of the line to one of the stations. guanshan sidles to the counter and shinsou lingers a short distance behind; he'd noticed during their journey through the queue that they are processing people individually, despite a handful that seem to have arrived as duos or groups. he's glancing down the line of clerks, looking for another that might open and call him over, when he's looped into the interaction with this attendant both by the hook of his companion's arm and the trajectory of the conversation. shinsou blinks owlishly — they'd agreed to travel here together, but it hadn't been agreed upon before this point that they'd want to room together. but, if he had to decide based on a split decision here and now... he wants to stick with guanshan. he has an idea of how to navigate all of this shit already, and he's been kind enough to help him out thus far. so when the gem almost immediately shoots down that idea, citing regulation and protocol, a combination of disappointment and alarm twists in his stomach. it triggers a self-preservation instinct — the impulse of a drowning man grabbing for anything that might save him.
isn't a slumber party something that is in-line with what they want from us? it's a thought he keeps to himself; he hasn't really involved himself in the conversation (which was now beginning to progress into an argument), instead glancing to the next station. he had pieced together most of the process from how far guanshan had gotten through it, but he takes note of the steps afterward, memorizing the questions, thinking of how best to try to do this. he knows he will never feel perfectly confident with this, so after a minute or so he turns back to face the attendant, interjecting: )
— Excuse me. Can you tell me again why you can't make some kind of exception?
( the gem seems annoyed, but begins to reply, "as I've said, because —" and then she cuts off, expression going slack and eyes going vacant as the mental switch for his Brainwashing is flipped. after that, he moves quickly, not wanting to take too long or draw too much attention. ) Turn the screen toward me. ( he shoulders past guanshan so he can lean over and get a better look as the clerk dutifully does as he commands. from there, he gives her individual directions. there are two parts of the form: a part for the temporary resident and one for the residence. the second portion seems to be largely automated, randomly selecting gembonded to be roomed together in the way deemed most efficient by the system. from what he can see, the apartment already selected for guanshan isn't currently shared by anyone else — he memorizes the name, section, and number, and finishes the process for guanshan. a small plastic pod pops out of a slot near the attendant, and he tells her to give it to him — also giving the guy a light elbow to encourage him to take it.
he doesn't know how long the window will remain open before someone else in line is randomly assigned to that room, so he goes quickly. for each section of the form, he has to dictate each answer to her, going so far as to spell certain things out a character at a time. and then for the residence section, he instructs her to overwrite the random placement with what he'd memorized a moment before. ) Submit it... ( and here's the moment of truth —
pop. the same plastic pod, full of the necessities: identification, access to the apartment, etc. he tells her to pass it to him, and he slips it into his pocket. he couldn't have had her Brainwashed for longer than two or three minutes, but... he's feeling drained, for some reason. he has her turn the screen back to its original position, glances around them (no one seems to have paid them too much notice), and releases the Brainwashing.
the clerk blinks, focusing on him after a moment of bleary-eyed confusion. by that point, he's already talking. ) - I'll just see about what options we might have with filing an exception, then. Thank you for the explanation.
( and he turns to walk away, leaving her to her silent discombobulation. but she doesn't raise any concerns, not having enough reason to.
shinsou's strides away from the line of counters turn gradually into shuffles. he feels light-headed, but he turns over his shoulder to see if guanshan is following; for the time being, he's avoiding his gaze. )
[ less made of schemes than he is a hothead, Guanshan's part to play in all of this is attempting to wear down the will to live of the person he's on the verge of cussing out. sometimes it works, grants him what he wants on account of most being too self-loving to want to deal with him for long — but it's a tall ask, trying the patience of a bureaucrat. scum of The Man. ]
[ it's no sooner that Guanshan's words are getting more colorful (animal genitalia may have come up) that Shinsou interrupts. "as I've said—" ]
Man, I already asked her that, what makes you...
[ and he trails right off as soon as they start putting on a little master-and-slave charade, commands unthinkingly obeyed. Guanshan watches the exchange between puppetmaster and puppet with quiet, uncomprehending awe, shuffling out of Shinsou's way when needed and flinching as the randomized machinery fires and issues his information, opened up and stared at as it all begins to settle down like silt turned up on an ocean floor. ]
[ he probably wouldn't believe it if he hadn't seen it. he's known a lot of men who can do a lot of things — strength enough to slice open cars with magical weapons, brilliance enough to hack the highest tech facilities in futures he can't even comprehend, but this is a new one. ]
So you can... [ his walking comes to a stop just as they reach far enough away from the lines to not be heard, privacy unswerving. he's landed on the truth, however, wild it seems to be, but the implications are just starting to settle on him. ]
[ and so damn slick, too. he glances back at her and she seems none the wiser, decidedly unaware of what had just transpired. ]
Order people around without them knowin'...
[ a glance back at Shinsou. he doubts it's Guanshan's interrogation that has him looking pale again, even more tired that the natural dark rings under his eyes imply. that isn't why he feels a sympathetic throb, but rather — ]
( in stark contrast to how heated he had been getting a moment earlier, guanshan goes silent as soon as shinsou Brainwashes the clerk. he has to blinder himself to what he's doing here and now; it would be too easy to get conflicted with concern, worrying over what he might be thinking. instead he lightly manipulates the system with the mind-controlled attendant as his intermediary, directing her with a skill and alacrity which clearly indicates that he has done this before, and enough that it scarcely takes him half a second to slip into it from his typical passivity.
they're just lucky the system is as simple as it is. he's not even sure why she was being so obstinate about it — maybe an issue of policy, maybe an issue of not wanting to be liable if promises were made and things didn't work out. regardless, they aren't even far enough away for guanshan to come to halt, and shinsou is already feeling a seed of guilt taking root in his stomach. the key to wielding his quirk in a way befitting of a hero — they key to him being a hero at all — is in using it selflessly.
and what he'd just done was as selfish as it came. in addition to the light-headedness, the faint ringing in his ears, he feels a twist of nausea.
he comes to a halt when he senses that guanshan has done the same, though he doesn't turn to face him; his shoulders are tensing up, as if bracing up in anticipation for some sort of impact. so stupid... why on earth did he go off doing that for? who would want to knowingly walk into a living situation with someone who could control them at pretty much any point — who had just gone and shown that he didn't seem to have any qualms in doing so to a stranger?
"sounds lonely."
the line of tension snaps. without thinking, shinsou turns over his shoulder to look guanshan in the eye — the stoic mask which had been mustered to cover his apprehension and his guilt has cracked right down the middle, revealing something new and raw, something he isn't even really sure he had words for. he searches his expression for anything to prove sarcasm, to prove misunderstanding, but he comes up empty. "sounds lonely." no one's ever said something like that to him before. he's withstood years and years of people putting themselves in his shoes, and the only thing they had to tell of their ill-thought sojourn in his skin was what they might be tempted to do with such a potentially insidious, invasive power. no one ever bothers to think past the obvious — to try to understand both what the weight of that potential might mean over years, how it tended to alienate you from the others around you. his mind is blank; he can't think of anything to say, can't think of anything at all except that his throat feels tight. but much like he had before, he forces himself past it. the momentary vulnerability in his expression shutters in sections, and when she speaks, there's (thankfully) no traitorous tremor to its cadence or timbre. )
If you think you'd rather live with someone else, there's probably still time to go speak with them about it. ( hands in his pockets, he anxiously fidgets with a corner of the packet of identification. )
[ Guanshan meets his stare with a prying one of his own, flickering briefly between two purple irises — and then down, too unaccustomed to welcoming an intimacy he doesn't feel he has stake in. they barely know each other at all, really, and somehow he feels like he's witnessed something Shinsou would more like to have kept a secret. ]
[ ...and yet, if he had and Guanshan found out about it at a later time, that's when he would've felt some sort of betrayal. regardless of whether it was selfish isn't the issue for him; more that it was honest. Guanshan isn't unused to powers and strengths that can completely dominate him, a victim of those stronger and more impressive than him throughout much of his life — but he's gotten good at picking out the ones who'll abuse it and the ones who won't. ]
[ the truth is, Shinsou's a good kid. a smart-mouthed teenager and a little rough around the edges, but the desire for good things streaks through him brilliantly, and far deeper than it has in Guanshan for... a long time now. ]
Nah. Now you jes' got me excited to see what else'll happen.
[ one big step of his wide gait and he's rushing the other boy, an arm thrown companionably around his back that encourages him back towards the Flashpoint. they have an apartment to find and scope out in the Emerald District. ]
( it's not the answer he was expecting. his eyes widen almost imperceptibly, and any sort of response he might have lags behind guanshan's decision to step forward and corral him once more toward the Flashpoint, seemingly with the intention of warping their way to their new assigned apartment. ) - Oh. ( he's not usually the easiest guy to read, but that's what makes his actual moments of surprise like this so obvious. he almost asks if he's sure, but — no, it seems that guanshan knows full well what he's agreeing to. it would be rude to doubt him in that.
though any hope being held out for more exciting uses of shinsou's quirk might have to wither and die on the vine. he is a good kid, and perhaps to a fault. he's probably going to feel lightly guilty about what he just did for a few days, so the likelihood for continued mind control hijinks is low.
shinsou's breath huffs in a laugh. eggplant...?) Alright, alright. Careful - don't make me trip...
( they do have an apartment to find, a residential district to scope out, and... maybe at some point normal clothes and shoes to buy. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ contemplative silence draws out as he stays with the emotions of nostalgia, allowing himself to follow the invisible tendril straight to fondness and embarrassment, a jarring contrast to the humiliation and self-loathing (and ultimately, thankfully, payoff) he'd felt at the time. hindsight's 20/20. looking back now, he knows what worked and what didn't. ]
Trust first. [ before lust and attraction, force and necessity, before carefully curated research and led-astray social conventions and expectations, Guanshan knows this: ] Trust whoever it is to protect you.
[ that kind of trust. not just with secrets and vulnerabilities, but someone with a sentinel's temper who will still care after the deed. protective people are the ones Guanshan knows as the most loyal and least likely to fuck you over in the end. never mind the choice to give advice on who instead of any other how where when nouns that says plenty about him as a person; aren't most people beyond understanding this baseline? ]
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he watches him for a moment, and then he first responds in a way somewhat uncharacteristic for him: he smiles, and for shinsou it's always a faint and fledgling sort of thing when genuine, as if either unpracticed or unconfident (though usually it is a mixture of the two). he hums, thoughtful; the fingers of his left hand fidget with a bandage on the right that was beginning to fray. )
Okay. I'll keep that in mind.
( he's silent another moment, looking out over the crush of myriad newcomers and the array of gems that were seemingly doing their best to accommodate them. it's not an uneasy silence; he seems pensive, but not as off-balance as he had been several minutes ago. then, seemingly dredged from his thoughts: ) And do what you can to protect them, I'd guess?
( because if that was the case, they would be trusting you to do so. )
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[ Shinsou's eyes make him think of the darkest part of an amethyst. what lies beyond that — crystal-clear purity, and then some hard and jagged outer shell? he finds himself exploring the flecks of light and dark only to (perhaps politely, perhaps bashfully) pull his gaze away when there's a soft smile, like he'd seen something he isn't sure he was supposed to. he gets it. for the already rare mischievous grins or triumphant smirks he's allotted, genuinely smiling is rarer. ]
[ hard world, hard mouth. thinking to break the tension, Shinsou beats him to it. ]
...I guess. [ it doesn't really occur to him until then — that the other person in the scenario could have flesh as delicate as it is enticing. his partner's wasn't. but this is not his experience for his own narrative to control, so he relents after a beat: ] Yeah. F'yer both operatin' that way, things'll go a lot smoother. Even if it's awkward and embarrassing and weird, it's always gonna be awkward and embarrassing and weird.
[ good for yourself is the goal, but good for both is irrefutably better. ]
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he dedicates so much time, thought... hell, so much of himself to that single thought: what is it, to be a hero? where he's from, this is not necessarily a clear-cut question, as people entered what was now an industry for plenty of different reasons. money, prestige, fame — but, to shinsou, these had always seemed like distractions. he does not particularly enjoy the limelight, and he doesn't exactly function well in it either. he doesn't really need a lot to live contently. no, for him it had always been about perception. whatever few, tiny, youthful embers of admiration for heroes he had (as anyone else that age might) felt as a kid had only been fed and fanned by the mistrust and prejudice he had faced up until high school. he wants to stand tall before those same people as a hero, with nothing but his quirk and his own strength and merit, and force them to admit to themselves that they had had it wrong all this time.
it seems so ridiculous to think of it in such a way, but there's something in the way he feels about that aspiration that shares dna with what he thinks about now. to — share something like that with another person? well, he would want something similar: to present and be accepted for himself in entirety, quirk and all, in a mutual understanding.
...melodramatic, but aren't most teenagers when it comes to shit like that?
he's almost a little surprised that what he'd mentioned hadn't occurred more to the guy, and he finds himself stifling another smile, though this one is far more at guanshan's expense. it just tells him something about him: that he's more interested in taking shelter in someone than offering it, though perhaps he's reading a bit too much into it.
shinsou wouldn't have been able to guess his response to all of this, but it ends up being... laughter. he chuckles under his breath as he rocks forward to situate his elbows on his knees, his head falling into his open palms. he scrubs his face with bandaged hands. he's feeling kind of awkward and embarrassed and weird right now with this reaction, but, well... from coming to in the crater to sitting here with guanshan, he had been slowly twisting into a tangle of apprehension and anxiety. something had to give, but he would have to admit, he feels a lot better as he lowers one arm to rest across his knee, his chin remaining in the other palm. he looks sidelong at guanshan with a crooked smile that was far more confident, though that's only because it was gently mocking. ) You are really selling this.
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Tuh. [ under a dusting of freckles, his already coppery features tinge just a bit pinker as he jerks the angle of his chin away in defiance. ] Who's more embarrasin', the salesman or the sucker buyin' it?
[ barb for perceived barb, harmless little things that prick passersby and stick to their jeans. which is his true nature — the shelter-seeking pseudo-sage, or the vengeful little hothead? maybe the stray who drools at the dinner bell. ]
And anyway... [ what anyway? he doesn't want to talk about this anymore either — ] Who the hell're you?
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shinsou's cheshire grin notches a degree or two wider. is he embarrassed? he has no idea what he has to be embarrassed about, given the shambles that shinsou's life is inevitably going to fall into as soon as they arrive to wherever-the-hell they are going. but in this moment he allows himself to savor a sense of enjoyment in — what, his misery having a little more company? that doesn't seem very heroic, but he's never claimed to be perfect... )
Point taken.
( he pivots only enough to take a glancing blow from the barb, smile dying down but still leaving an impression on his expression, like footprints not yet washed away by the tide.
he's content enough to leave the topic behind as well. this one is far easier (and leagues less mortifying). ) Shinsou Hitoshi. ( another sidelong glance. ) You?
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[ introductions enough to put him far away from the heat. rather, he appreciates him for not pushing it, and Guanshan relents by offering an inch in return, relenting back into something more companionable. just as he's got his mouth open to say something else, he's interrupted by a tinny voice over the intercoms: ]
Now boarding flight #233-B: departure from Nova Mobile Sky Station to Sumarlok Hub. Those ready to depart, please report to—
[ he tunes it out about halfway through, glancing back over at Shinsou. well, pajamas and no shoes, but he looks like he might be as ready as he'll ever be. and maybe it's not entirely for his benefit either; Guanshan isn't exactly the most altruistic person in the universe. he certainly has no aspirations to be anyone's hero, anyway, and he instinctively there's safety in numbers even when he normally opts to ignore it. still, he stands, shoving his hands into his pockets and giving a nod towards the direction he knows the departure bay is in. ]
Heard we're supposed'a to go to a embassy after this to get registered and assigned a place to stay. Wanna head down and stick together?
[ congrats, Shinsou, you're unofficially being offered an adoption. ]
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his eyes flicker upwards to where he assumes the intercom system is. a flight, huh? he frowns; the gem that had gone to get him more clothes had never returned, either having gotten side-tracked by other needs that needed to be attended to or having lost him in the crowd. it's fine. he's gotten this far as ill-equipped as he was, so he's certain he can make it the last leg of the marathon. fortunately, he's no longer embarrassed being caught out like this.
he looks over to track the movement of guanshan standing; he blinks owlishly at the offer. in retrospect it might seem like a fairly obvious, standard one, but in the moment, shinsou is appreciative for not having to continue to go about all of this alone. he stands in turn, nodding. ) If we're both going to the same place, yeah, I don't see why not.
( adoption: accepted. )
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[ corridors narrow and coldly lit, Guanshan leads them to the terminal for departures with a steady pace, keeping Shinsou at his side despite his long stride; there's always an intentionality with things where he actually manages to be considerate. likewise, after they're checked in as otherworlders and given their assigned seats, he steps aside to let Shinsou have the one closest to the window. should be a pretty amazing view, going from a space station to floating island dusted with winter's snow. ]
[ ...not that it stops Guanshan from crowding him as their vessel departs to try and watch the show too. as they descend, a skyline that bruises black and purple speckled with stars gets gradually warmer, sunstruck yellows and fiery golds that alight their new home in Sumarlok, the brilliant refraction of sheeted snow sparkling and blinding both. ]
Uoh...
[ this, he realizes, is probably the worst possible weather to get caught with no shoes and in pajamas. the pang of sympathy smarts, and Guanshan pulls back from pressing his shoulder into Shinsou's — ]
...You could borrow my socks and I'll give you a piggyback ride? [ he's trying here. ]
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but as they get onto the shuttle and shinsou takes his seat next to the window (a gesture which he appreciates and thanks guanshan for), he starts to think there's far too much to this for it to be just in his head. this world seems so bizarre yet so actualized in a way he could never imagine: the planet below, with these islands floating above. they move toward one of those floating cities, one which was thoroughly shrouded in wintery snow.
he sees this around the same time guanshan does; his stomach drops with the realization. just his luck... and he thought being dressed like this in the crater would've been the worst of it.
he's scrubbing his hand down his face when guanshan makes his offer. he stops to look at him through the gap of two splayed fingers, and he hesitates before giving a weak smile. ) ...Maybe. If there's no one around wherever we land who can help. ( a last-ditch hope that someone down there would carry out the humanitarian help he'd missed out on the space station? he'd prefer not actually have to take guanshan up on the offer, both not to inconvenience him but also because it would be really embarrassing — )
We don't really have any money to buy anything, do we...
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[ the details Guanshan had latched on to with utmost keenness: stipend and free government living. it's the least they can do, so he thinks, if they're funding the bulk of Sumarlok's economy and — magical stability or whatever the fuck it is Manna does. he doesn't really have the capacity to grasp the larger issues, but he knows when he's getting the shit end of a stick. ]
[ embarrassing, sure, he gets it. but if he's gonna have Shinsou living in his same apartment, there'll be ample ways to make him reciprocate something — but Guanshan's always preferred to owe the people he knows rather than total strangers. ]
Kinda makes you wonder why they wear clothes at all. They're just kinda like... rocks, right?
[ which earns a very disapproving look from a flight attended. err... ]
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...Okay. If there's no other options, that's probably the best one we have. ( a pause, then: ) Thanks.
( he breaks his gaze away from the window and glances to guanshan as he continues; the sharp, disapproving look from the passing flight attendant causes him to jolt upright a centimeter or so in his seat. he clears his throat and then replies to him, though in a comparatively much softer undertone, ) Even if that's the case, they can still have propriety, you know.
( you know, guanshan, propriety? something shinsou doubts he'd ever had? )
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[ then, a quizzical look. ] Sure. Who owns their house ain't got shit ta do with me.
[ a case of literal "propriety, what's that?" and Guanshan simply deciding he must've meant property. while Shinsou surely riddles out just how stupid he might possibly be, an ear perks to an overhead announcement freeing them all from their seats and being asked to file out in a neat an orderly line. well — ]
S'now or never, big guy.
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as it is, shinsou has to turn his head to the window so his companion doesn't have quite as clear a view of the sneaking smile stealing across his face. though, honestly, he does raise a good point... being gems or rocks or whatever would make one think they're inorganic. so if that's the case, how do they —
no, nope. he's not going down this rabbit hole right now.
he glances up when the intercom pings on and announces their arrival. goes to show how technologically-advanced these people were, though he shouldn't have been surprised, considering what he had seen ever since he had been rescued from the crater. he looks to guanshan and gives him a nod, gesturing. he's... technically in his way, considering shinsou had been given the window seat. )
After you.
( the sky shuttle station is far more like grand central station for him to expect much by the way of continued humanitarian care. that's not great for his situation, but fortunately many of the new arrivals are pointed toward another form of transportation that will be very useful for both of them. the signs call them "flashpoints," though to shinsou's eyes they just look like phone booths. perhaps two dozen of them are lined up against one of the walls, and after watching several gems stride into them, fiddle with the controls, and then vanish (assumedly to somewhere else in the city), small groups of gembonded begin to detach and try it out for themselves.
in any other situation, shinsou would probably prefer just walk, not entirely willing to risk his life with some technology he's unfamiliar with. but this isn't any situation, and it would drastically cut down the time he'd have to be carried, probably. they might even be able to teleport directly to the embassy.
he glances up to guanshan and gestures toward the line of booths. ) What do you think? Should we try it out? ( apparently it's free. )
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Oh, it's like a Prismanode. Yeah we can use that.
[ familiarity apparent, there's no lack of confidence when he claims a booth for them. it takes him a moment to reorient with the new technology — but like any youngster constantly inundated with ever-advancing applied sciences, it only takes shifting through a few menus to fully digest what he's seeing. he could twist the district-separated three dimensional map this way and that to find a nearby Flashpoint, but he finds a menu full of major landmarks for quick access and the embassy is listed right at the top. ]
Awright. Hey, lock that, it won't work 'til we do.
[ yeah, he's just gonna crowd both of them in here. it's fine, not like they'll come out conjoined twins on the other side or anything. surely. ]
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shinsou supplies enough caution for the two of them as he lags a bit behind, giving the booth a critical look up and down as he stands just outside. as the other guy navigates the menu to find their destination, shinsou scans the walls, looking for any glaring warning: one person at a time, or else, gruesome death!
there's none of the sort, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't nervous about this thing accidentally blending them instead of just transporting them. )
Oh. ( he hesitates, but then he steps inside, closing and securing the door behind them. )
Okay. ( deep breath in. deep breath out. fighting back a fledgling feeling of placebo vertigo lodged in his gut. ) Ready.
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[ accustomed to the extreme change in settings in so, so very many ways, Guanshan moves on like nothing dimension-breaking had occurred at all. it all becomes very rote after a certain point. he pushes the door open and spills himself out, six senses noticing little more than the change in the way the air smells from one location to the next. it's fresher, here. ]
Awright. Sign-in, devices, assigned livin', supplemental income— [ oh, those big words he knows. the ones about money he can rattle off on each fingertip. right. — wait, he should check on his new buddy. ] You gonna make it, champ?
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fortunately for the both of him, he manages to do this. it does take him a moment, though. he remains standing where he is, half-leaning into the corner of the booth, eyes closed and his hand over his mouth. distantly, he can hear each word that guanshan says, but they pixelate and disjoint in his mind until the question finally filters through. it's a few seconds after it's been asked, but shinsou open his eyes; he looks pale, but considerably less green than he had been a moment before. )
...Fine. ( sure, you are. what he is is good enough to move, at the very least, so he separates from the wall and follows guanshan out of the flashpoint, glancing around the space the booths emptied out into. fortunately, it was inside the building, which further limited how much they'd have to be outside through this whole process.
he glances to his companion and nods, indicating they can go to whatever line they have to stand in — but he thinks more about what he'd heard him said, and something occurs to him. ) Is that how it worked, the last place you were at? They assigned a place for you to live?
( it's not so odd for him. UA had built dorms for all of their students within the last few months, after all. but he had known all of those people. is he going to have to live with a bunch of strangers? )
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[ or maybe he's just prone to extreme empathy. either way, the steadying weight of his palm settles on Shinsou's shoulder, an awkward but earnest attempt at what little comfort he can provide. ]
Had more options there. This place is a little more, uh... [ and here he begins to glance around, taking in the foreign and opulent architecture, the bustle all around them. god, he hopes they don't have to wait in line for a fucking age. ] Red tape and caution signs. Ya know?
[ everything on the planet beneath Sumarlok is insanity and chaos — makes sense they'd have a government accustomed to handling that. attention checking back onto Shinsou again, he moves when he seems less motionsick, stepping over into the line labeled ARRIVALS. it moves surprisingly quickly, forcing them to shuffle forward a few times almost immediately. they've got the bureaucratic shit down, at least. ]
[ when a clerk opens up, she takes Guanshan's information down first — and it's thorough. name, age, sex, height and weight. "in case something happen," is an ominous truth he's long-since accepted. seeming to notice Shinsou hanging close by, he pulls his new comrade into the conversation. ]
We was hopin' to be assigned together.
[ "This isn't a slumber party," is the severe chide in return. ]
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then it's time to move on.
it had been part of the gems' spiel back on the space station that they would taken care of, once they were delivered to the city that was to host them. the actual details of that had been something he'd missed. upon leaving the flashpoint and taking stock of his surroundings here at the embassy, he picks up on exactly what guanshan is telling him: bureaucracy. no, the prospect of standing in a line for however long isn't a thrilling one, but there's an odd sense of comfort of things working the same here as they had at home — hero society was something built heavily upon bureaucratic foundations as well.
just as the process had been back on the space station, they seem to have this down to a science. the line at arrivals moves quickly, and soon enough they're ushered from the front of the line to one of the stations. guanshan sidles to the counter and shinsou lingers a short distance behind; he'd noticed during their journey through the queue that they are processing people individually, despite a handful that seem to have arrived as duos or groups. he's glancing down the line of clerks, looking for another that might open and call him over, when he's looped into the interaction with this attendant both by the hook of his companion's arm and the trajectory of the conversation. shinsou blinks owlishly — they'd agreed to travel here together, but it hadn't been agreed upon before this point that they'd want to room together. but, if he had to decide based on a split decision here and now... he wants to stick with guanshan. he has an idea of how to navigate all of this shit already, and he's been kind enough to help him out thus far. so when the gem almost immediately shoots down that idea, citing regulation and protocol, a combination of disappointment and alarm twists in his stomach. it triggers a self-preservation instinct — the impulse of a drowning man grabbing for anything that might save him.
isn't a slumber party something that is in-line with what they want from us? it's a thought he keeps to himself; he hasn't really involved himself in the conversation (which was now beginning to progress into an argument), instead glancing to the next station. he had pieced together most of the process from how far guanshan had gotten through it, but he takes note of the steps afterward, memorizing the questions, thinking of how best to try to do this. he knows he will never feel perfectly confident with this, so after a minute or so he turns back to face the attendant, interjecting: )
— Excuse me. Can you tell me again why you can't make some kind of exception?
( the gem seems annoyed, but begins to reply, "as I've said, because —" and then she cuts off, expression going slack and eyes going vacant as the mental switch for his Brainwashing is flipped. after that, he moves quickly, not wanting to take too long or draw too much attention. ) Turn the screen toward me. ( he shoulders past guanshan so he can lean over and get a better look as the clerk dutifully does as he commands. from there, he gives her individual directions. there are two parts of the form: a part for the temporary resident and one for the residence. the second portion seems to be largely automated, randomly selecting gembonded to be roomed together in the way deemed most efficient by the system. from what he can see, the apartment already selected for guanshan isn't currently shared by anyone else — he memorizes the name, section, and number, and finishes the process for guanshan. a small plastic pod pops out of a slot near the attendant, and he tells her to give it to him — also giving the guy a light elbow to encourage him to take it.
he doesn't know how long the window will remain open before someone else in line is randomly assigned to that room, so he goes quickly. for each section of the form, he has to dictate each answer to her, going so far as to spell certain things out a character at a time. and then for the residence section, he instructs her to overwrite the random placement with what he'd memorized a moment before. ) Submit it... ( and here's the moment of truth —
pop. the same plastic pod, full of the necessities: identification, access to the apartment, etc. he tells her to pass it to him, and he slips it into his pocket. he couldn't have had her Brainwashed for longer than two or three minutes, but... he's feeling drained, for some reason. he has her turn the screen back to its original position, glances around them (no one seems to have paid them too much notice), and releases the Brainwashing.
the clerk blinks, focusing on him after a moment of bleary-eyed confusion. by that point, he's already talking. ) - I'll just see about what options we might have with filing an exception, then. Thank you for the explanation.
( and he turns to walk away, leaving her to her silent discombobulation. but she doesn't raise any concerns, not having enough reason to.
shinsou's strides away from the line of counters turn gradually into shuffles. he feels light-headed, but he turns over his shoulder to see if guanshan is following; for the time being, he's avoiding his gaze. )
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[ it's no sooner that Guanshan's words are getting more colorful (animal genitalia may have come up) that Shinsou interrupts. "as I've said—" ]
Man, I already asked her that, what makes you...
[ and he trails right off as soon as they start putting on a little master-and-slave charade, commands unthinkingly obeyed. Guanshan watches the exchange between puppetmaster and puppet with quiet, uncomprehending awe, shuffling out of Shinsou's way when needed and flinching as the randomized machinery fires and issues his information, opened up and stared at as it all begins to settle down like silt turned up on an ocean floor. ]
[ he probably wouldn't believe it if he hadn't seen it. he's known a lot of men who can do a lot of things — strength enough to slice open cars with magical weapons, brilliance enough to hack the highest tech facilities in futures he can't even comprehend, but this is a new one. ]
So you can... [ his walking comes to a stop just as they reach far enough away from the lines to not be heard, privacy unswerving. he's landed on the truth, however, wild it seems to be, but the implications are just starting to settle on him. ]
[ and so damn slick, too. he glances back at her and she seems none the wiser, decidedly unaware of what had just transpired. ]
Order people around without them knowin'...
[ a glance back at Shinsou. he doubts it's Guanshan's interrogation that has him looking pale again, even more tired that the natural dark rings under his eyes imply. that isn't why he feels a sympathetic throb, but rather — ]
Sounds lonely.
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they're just lucky the system is as simple as it is. he's not even sure why she was being so obstinate about it — maybe an issue of policy, maybe an issue of not wanting to be liable if promises were made and things didn't work out. regardless, they aren't even far enough away for guanshan to come to halt, and shinsou is already feeling a seed of guilt taking root in his stomach. the key to wielding his quirk in a way befitting of a hero — they key to him being a hero at all — is in using it selflessly.
and what he'd just done was as selfish as it came. in addition to the light-headedness, the faint ringing in his ears, he feels a twist of nausea.
he comes to a halt when he senses that guanshan has done the same, though he doesn't turn to face him; his shoulders are tensing up, as if bracing up in anticipation for some sort of impact. so stupid... why on earth did he go off doing that for? who would want to knowingly walk into a living situation with someone who could control them at pretty much any point — who had just gone and shown that he didn't seem to have any qualms in doing so to a stranger?
"sounds lonely."
the line of tension snaps. without thinking, shinsou turns over his shoulder to look guanshan in the eye — the stoic mask which had been mustered to cover his apprehension and his guilt has cracked right down the middle, revealing something new and raw, something he isn't even really sure he had words for. he searches his expression for anything to prove sarcasm, to prove misunderstanding, but he comes up empty. "sounds lonely." no one's ever said something like that to him before. he's withstood years and years of people putting themselves in his shoes, and the only thing they had to tell of their ill-thought sojourn in his skin was what they might be tempted to do with such a potentially insidious, invasive power. no one ever bothers to think past the obvious — to try to understand both what the weight of that potential might mean over years, how it tended to alienate you from the others around you. his mind is blank; he can't think of anything to say, can't think of anything at all except that his throat feels tight. but much like he had before, he forces himself past it. the momentary vulnerability in his expression shutters in sections, and when she speaks, there's (thankfully) no traitorous tremor to its cadence or timbre. )
If you think you'd rather live with someone else, there's probably still time to go speak with them about it. ( hands in his pockets, he anxiously fidgets with a corner of the packet of identification. )
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[ ...and yet, if he had and Guanshan found out about it at a later time, that's when he would've felt some sort of betrayal. regardless of whether it was selfish isn't the issue for him; more that it was honest. Guanshan isn't unused to powers and strengths that can completely dominate him, a victim of those stronger and more impressive than him throughout much of his life — but he's gotten good at picking out the ones who'll abuse it and the ones who won't. ]
[ the truth is, Shinsou's a good kid. a smart-mouthed teenager and a little rough around the edges, but the desire for good things streaks through him brilliantly, and far deeper than it has in Guanshan for... a long time now. ]
Nah. Now you jes' got me excited to see what else'll happen.
[ one big step of his wide gait and he's rushing the other boy, an arm thrown companionably around his back that encourages him back towards the Flashpoint. they have an apartment to find and scope out in the Emerald District. ]
C'mon, you julienned eggplant.
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though any hope being held out for more exciting uses of shinsou's quirk might have to wither and die on the vine. he is a good kid, and perhaps to a fault. he's probably going to feel lightly guilty about what he just did for a few days, so the likelihood for continued mind control hijinks is low.
shinsou's breath huffs in a laugh. eggplant...? ) Alright, alright. Careful - don't make me trip...
( they do have an apartment to find, a residential district to scope out, and... maybe at some point normal clothes and shoes to buy. )