maskormenacelogs | Copernican Theory and Other Such Things [OPEN]

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Copernican Theory and Other Such Things [OPEN]

WHO: Manabu, any
WHERE: Nonah, out n' about
WHEN: first days in June, GED study, bike thefts, store visits...
WHAT: Idleness is combated, lessons are studied, books are read, bikes are purchased
WARNINGS: ?

o1.
'He will have nothing but the tools which may help him in doing his work, but of these he has a large assortment, and all in the most perfect order. It is a mistake to think that that little room has elastic walls and can distend to any extent.'

Whew. That's one way to say "the detective stays laser-focused on detective skills to be a good detective." Once again, Manabu has to stop what he's doing to listen and absorb the meaning, otherwise it's just words filling his ears, completely missing the point. He's done that about three times already in this read-through, having to pause and rewind portions he zoned out of while scratching away at math problems.

This...isn't the best way to absorb as much information as fast as possible, he knows. But the math keeps his hands busy while he sits still to listen. And where he sits -- out here, a grassy patch in the park under a tree -- is change enough from an enclosed room as to combat boredom a little better, he hopes.

He sits up, gently drumming his pencil on the notebook in his lap while he considers the narration playing through the earphones. This detective guy...sure sounds like a jerk, he thinks. At least, that's the way the narrator seems to think. He fidgets and picks up the mp3 player, holding down rewind and playing it again, just in case he missed something again. All the while, he glances about the park, watching early-afternoon joggers and dog-walkers pass along, weaving around less driven folk heading to work or lunch or the like.

o2.
Eating on a shoestring budget has paid off, but only just. Manabu almost regrets quitting that mall ride gig...almost. But finally being able to pass the handful of cash he needed to score a bicycle is quite validating. See? All the nights of the Same Exact Noodle Dish have paid off!

He hums, chipper and excited at the prospect of getting anywhere faster than on foot, and walks the bike out of the shop. Once he's out of the way of other possible customers and commuters on the sidewalk, he takes a knee and sets to inspecting the chain and wheels, just to make sure everything's in proper order before heading along his way.

It's during this harmless moment that poses opportunity for a stranger in a mysterious hurry to, while running down the sidewalk and shoving people out of the way, just snatch the bike by the handlebars and race away with it, hopping on mid-sprint and making a break across a crossing. All the while, Manabu's hands nearly get run over, himself jerking backward with a yelp, and is left sprawled on the ground gobsmacked.

"...Wh--" He sits up, shaking the daze off, and starts to his feet. "Hu-he-HEY! Waitaminute-!"

Seriously?!

o3. [prompt for KANAYA]
Nonah's 'downtown' isn't the dizzying sort of metropolis Manabu's experienced before, so there's no real issues navigating. Remembering the direction address numbers rise or fall is the key -- at least until particular shops become ingrained in his memory. Right now, there's just one Manabu has in mind to memorize.

It's pretty amazing, he thinks, to know someone who's gotten so famous...He's glad Kanaya's doing well for herself. For how long it's been, for how many he knew absent, he's relieved she's still around. Some of the insight she gave on the happenings he missed makes him worry about his chances of making up for the shortcomings he was part of, but...but it's also kind of invigorating. He has a new, higher-set bar to strive for.

Shame Manabu's not the sort to really notice aesthetic, or maybe he'd see the way the storefront suits her. The way things in the windows make perfect sense, that honestly he shouldn't have needed an address to find it on his own.

"Hello," he calls absently, pushing the door open and peeking in, looking around for the familiar face.

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Manabu remains at his distance, a dubious look passing back and forth between man and bike and back again, frowning behind his hand. His eyes wince a little, seeing Duo move so casually and settle on leaning in for a stay. Why? he thinks, despairing. Why is there always a spectator?

He has to succinctly explain his power, his situation, grin and bear the mocking laughter that's bound to happen, and somehow make this all go faster. He has to--

"Eh-?"

His attention snaps back to the present moment, blinking a few times. "My...?" His partner? Is this someone he knows? He gulps, feeling a little knot of guilt in his gut.

"Waid..." A loud sniff. "Who are you?"

Poor kid. He really looks like his day has gone down the crapper- hopefully getting his bike back has helped things out a little. And it doesn't get stolen again.

Duo looks almost surprised for a moment, thinking well, maybe he's told other people about his partner?... Oh, right. Most people don't bother to remember offhand little pieces of information like that- but Duo always remembered when he heard something about Shinigami.

He leans off the wall again and raises his hand in a wave- he would have gone in to offer it for a shake, but that seems like... not such a good idea, considering what happened the last time. "Heya! I'm Shinigami. Nice to meet-meet you." For certain value of nice. "...I mean, preferably I wouldn't have punched you in the face first, but whatcha gonna do."

He points to the bike. "I tightened your chain a little. Got loosened up in all that commotion, and it was new anyway, right? Sorry, I'm a tinkerer, so I just felt like doing it, after giving it a whirl."

"Shin'gami...?"

Bruce always comes to mind first. But after that, he remembers, and that realization gets painted on his face the moment it clicks.

"Aa, you're--!" The mention of the bike cuts him off, throws him off-track. He blinks, looking back at it, as if it just showed up there. "O-oh, thad's...I mean, I--ow!"

There's a very gentle crack that comes with Manabu's flinch; his hands go to his face in response, his nose having popped back into proper place. He sucks in a staggered breath through his teeth and lets it out heavily, punctuated by a bit of a whimper. Why does it have to hurt when it heals?

"Nh...thanks, I mean..." He winces after dragging his carefully under his nose to wipe blood. "Nice...nice to meet you."

Duo visibly winces at the sound of his nose going back into place- God that was gross, he never got used to that no matter how many times he had to hear Heero set bones. At least it was fixed.

"Guess you don't need the doctor anymore. You sure you're gonna be alright?" He leans on his hands, back against the wall behind him, looking extremely skeptical about Manabu's chances of going unscathed the rest of the day. Well, the guy must have stayed alive this long somehow. "'bout talking, I mean. Although I guess I don't gotta ask what's troubling you, anymore."

He'd heard of people having powers that backfired spectacularly, but this was just ridiculous. "Ever tried a power dampener?"

There's a reddish tint growing on Manabu's face -- not punch-blood.

"It's...It's on order," he says, his tone dipping into defeat to match the slouch of his shoulders. "That is, my friend is getting one for me...but there's still some time to wait until then."

But he can't just hide away in a room from the world until then! That's pathetic and also boring. But he should be better about this than he's being this week! So it's double-pathetic and frustrating.

"I'm--usually better at handling this," he says, trying to sound convincing.

Oop. Now probably wouldn't be a good time for Duo to be surprised at how competent that was, would it? His eyes widen just slightly with a quirk of his lips, but other than that, he just nods. "Oh, you are getting one? Well, that's good. This world sure got its shit together about imPorts, if nothin' else." It went in good directions and bad, he supposed. "I heard they can just make the nanomachines suppress our powers, but maybe it's too dangerous for full-time use."

He waves a dismissive hand- nowhere near Manabu, mind- and tries to fix his expression back to a neutral grin again. "Don't worry about it. Power like that? Bound to cause trouble. At least you still were able to remember how to deal with it after you got Ported back in, yanno? Be thankful for the little stuff."

He shifts his glance to the side for a moment, thoughtful, and pauses to remove his hat, run fingers through his slicked-back hair before he goes on. "You a cop? You mentioned your partner and... something about joining the force." Not to die, he'd said. And then he goes and gets stuck with a shinigami as a partner. Huhn.

More naturally distrustful people wouldn't be this easy to converse with when their face is spattered bloody after a comedy of errors orchestrated by the porter and good old-fashioned bad luck. But Manabu isn't so beat down literally and figuratively by his bad hand that he can't at least try to be decent to someone seemingly being fair to him.

Death-god did return his bike, after all...

He nods, scratching self-consciously at his arm. "Mm...Back home. I'm still working on that here. Back to square one, and all..."

Comedy of errors, luckily for Manabu, was something Duo was well-enough acquainted with that even if he was laughing at his pain, a little, it was mostly sympathy humor. Mostly. There wasn't a lot that Duo didn't find any humor in, to be fair.

"Huh. All that paperwork for imPorts and they can't keep training and certification carry-over?" He takes on a slightly guilty look. "I got myself situated with the church pretty well after a couple weeks, but I guess they don't exactly have people leaping to work at shelters and as outreach, all the time. Not like I was expecting to take on a full church, as an outsider with no proof'a seminary."

...Not that he was actually ordained, or really a practicing priest, for that matter. What kind of negative karma did you build up when you lied to an entire diocese? Well, whatever, he figured he had enough of that built up already as the God of Death. "Um, the church is kinda fast and loose in space. So you're gonna rejoin the police here? That's neat. And I guess you... don't gotta worry about them trying to use your power for anything weird." Hopefully.

It's kind of weird, Manabu thinks in passing, that this guy calls himself a death god but is hitting up a church. He hopes that's...not something nefarious. People don't need that kind of threat from a safe space.

He shakes his head a little to rid himself of the thought; Bruce does heaps of good for people despite the unfortunate nickname. It might be the same kind of deal.

"I-it's not so much that," he utters, himself mimicking the look on the priest's face. "I mean, I'm sure if I just asked the right people, I could enlist easily, but...but I want to do this right. Like, the way it is here. Because otherwise I don't really...I won't really be working on the same level as the others. And I might miss something important. So..."

It wasn't very often that Duo came across people with a frame of reference for what the name Shinigami really meant. Maybe that's why he let himself be curious about the kid and what point of view he was coming from- especially with that overly idealistic way he talked. It was usually the sort of thing that got a bright-eyed soldier killed, but those who made it, those who were cursed... That was a different breed, and a lot more familiar.

His smile softened a little more. Yeesh. This kid really was something. "Even playing field, huh. That's awfully genuine of you." His tone indicates he doesn't entirely see the necessity, but it was really the intent that counted. "You're right, though. Unless you see the same things your comrades have seen, you can't truly understand one another. It's important, for working together." If only everyone could learn that lesson, the world would probably be a better place, he thinks. "Shared experience is a powerful thing. Especially if you're already an outsider."

"They don't mind imPorts mixing in with civilian forces here, huh?"

Manabu looks encouraged by Duo's expansion on his thoughts. For some reason, others just...had a better way of putting things than he did; when he explains things, he's sure it sounds ridiculous and hokey...And even if it is, he's still sure doing his best with what he sees is right counts for something, right?

"Oh, I...don't think so." Manabu looks briefly concerned. He's not entirely sure that's true; he hasn't checked. "I mean, if...if you look at it kind of cynically," he winces at the eyes, "I'm at least exploitable to them, since I can take a beating and heal up from it."

So maybe they only bring him on as a meat shield. Humiliating, but he'd endure it, because he's sure he can prove himself more useful than that, and climb enough to be at a place where he can make a real difference.

"Otherwise...my kind of experience has to have some value to them somehow, I figure..." He looks down, rubbing the clots of blood out of his nose. "I guess I'll find that out."

Duo sighs out a laugh, wondering what level of suicidally altruistic impulses this kid runs on that he's willing to let himself get exploited for the sake of... For the sake of whatever they ended up using him for- protecting people? Probably not. How's that for cynicism.

"I think you'd be better off keeping whatever talents you got to yourself, in that case, and seeming as normal as possible. Maybe it's just me, but if I had to be a cop-" Perish the thought "-I'd rather be just some street-level nobody who actually gets to work with the people that need it the most, yanno?" He gestures vaguely at his collar. "That's why I decided to do this, too. The ones that got no choice but to turn to God, those are the ones I wanna help." Well, it didn't really matter to him either way, but it was an easy way of finding people in need.

Well. He had a lot more reasons than that for the collar, but none that were relevant. "Lemme tell you something I've learned, buddy, and it's that those who have the most valuable experience are the least likely to be listened to by those that should be hearing it."

"Ah...mm..."

Self-consciously, Manabu scratches at the bridge of his now-reconfigured nose. He's not excited of the idea of getting wailed on more than already happens; maybe there is a chance of that information not spreading too far. Then again, the government has all that paperwork...

Once Jacob gets him that nullifier, it will be one less worry, at least.

His attention snaps back to that lesson. Manabu frowns. That sounds like something David would say...

"Because of the way the inexperienced think?" he asks, squinting. "Is that the idea?"

Duo hums thoughtfully, arms folding over his chest. "Well, I guess that's what it boils down to. Whether it's hubris or ignorance, the ones that don't know what the hell they're doing tend to... miss implications, details. You don't know what you don't know- ya get me? And they don't always tend to be too open to being corrected." And somehow, he thought bitterly, they always ended up being in charge of things way over their heads.

"So sometimes, you gotta do things under their noses, or taking matters into your own hands. Personally, I just prefer to work on my own, outside of being tied down by all that stuff. But hey, that's a matter of personal point of view, yeah? Do what feels right by you, and you won't regret it. That's the important thing."

It was all he'd ever really worked by. Following his own path, or the one others were on that looked right to him. Finding the path was the hard part, anyway.

More critical minds would be wondering why they're getting a kids-these-days life philosophy lesson in an alleyway from a guy who previously just decked him in the face (albeit on accident). But Manabu is a bit too earnest, a bit too in-the-moment, and a bit too...well, a product of his time and place. This kind of thing isn't really that far out of the realm of possibility, considering he's been decked and yelled life lessons at before.

(Sure, it wasn't the same circumstances, but still...still!)

"You--you don't have to worry about that," Manabu says, his mouth twitching in a weak, forced half-smile. "I'm...considered pretty determined to follow my gut. It pisses people off sometimes, but all the same..."

There's something about space soldier universes that seems to make their inhabitants prone to long, philosophical speeches- maybe it's all the cosmic rays. Whatever it is, earnestness seems to be part and parcel. Although Duo wasn't typically the kind of guy to give advice (after all, he wasn't exactly king of excellent life choices), the few times he met people who really, genuinely cared about helping others gave him that kind of hope he'd only ever felt when he watched the Earth Sphere gradually change into the kind of place where people could live in peace. He felt he owed it to everything he'd fought for to make sure that those kinds of people could do the same.

Just... be glad he isn't Bright, Manabu.

Duo waves a dismissive hand, corner of his mouth cracking into a grin. "Whatever. If they're also the kind of person that wants to help others, they'll eventually understand your intents, and that's what matters. Besides..." His glance flicks away, avoidant for just a second before it returns, smiling again. "Battles are fought over stupider things than personal beliefs."

He gestures towards his... nose, fighting down another grin. "You got any other abilities b'sides uh, whatever the hell that was? Or the Porter well and truly screw you?"

There's something about the priest's cadence and demeanor that makes Manabu feel like his...footing, conversation-wise, is shifty and uncertain. It probably comes as much with the title the collar as age; not only should Manabu be polite to his elders, but when they're in important branches of society? What's the proper gesture of respect for a priest from another dimension? And is he allowed to waive that when he's really frazzled and tired from getting beat up on the almost-regular and stolen from twice?

It's a difficult state of mind to be in for Manbu right now -- that's all it really boils down to. But being an adult to him means taking the higher road.

His eyes wince one he's vaguely pointed at. "Uh...well, I at least...heal up pretty fast," he admits, his own arms flopping haplessly. He carefully grazes along the bridge of his nose. "Not broken anymore...so maybe I'll look presentable in a few minutes."

He ducks his head.

"Sorry for...for that happening to you. I mean, I got hit, but...it's weird when your arm just...punches someone without your say-so, huh."

"Healing, huh?" Duo rubs his chin thoughtfully. Now that would be an ironic mix of powers, but considering the sense of humor the Porter had, he wouldn't doubt it. "That's handy, at least. No wonder you think they're going to make you a human shield." And the kid was probably right- the thought of it makes him sigh, but it can't be helped. More than anything, he knows that those who are kind can't be stopped from doing what they believe is right, even to their own detriment. "Just yourself, then? Or others, too?" Healers tended to be a reckless sort, too.

"Ahhh, don't worry about it! It shocked me at first, but I've seen way weirder stuff come and go in these places. And hey, if you're fine, that's the important part." His grin turns a little sunnier, a little more supportive. "Don't get too used to people smacking you around, though. Or at least give as good as you get, sometimes."

Hmm. This guy... he had been Ported in before, hadn't he. Maybe he'd know more about... "You only just decided to become a cop here? What was it you'd been fighting, then, when you were here the last time?"

His head lifts back up in a nod, but his eyes wince at the human shield remark; he already regrets making that notion. Like hell he's going to be the department bullet sponge!

Not on purpose, anyway.

At least this guy doesn't seem too terribly put off by having his arm magnetically drawn to a stranger's face. He gives a queasy smile at the good-natured advice, awful as it sounds.

"Ah, uh..." Hey, prayers do get answered: the topic shifted. Manabu hesitates to get on this train of thought. Fighting? He has to think about it.

"Pirates, terrorists, thieves..." Mysterious...mutating...plant-monster creatures? Manabu's still not clear on what those were. Except that they hurt. His shoulders shrug a little, and he scratches at his elbow self-consciously. "Anything that could hurt people along the railway."

Huh. Well then. Sounded not all that different from the patches of conflict that cropped up still in the more remote areas of Mars, or even still in the deep reaches of colonial trade routes- around the asteroid and mining belts. "Nothing crazy, then. I can't imagine- well, ImPort crimes aside- that the native threats here can be much worse than pirating and terrorism." That was really the main issue, wasn't it. There were ImPort initiatives to fight crime within their own community, but as far as ImPorts branching out to the native population- he would have thought it would bring backlash. He remembered how scared people had been, the boiling up sentiments at anti-mutant, then anti-ImPort rallies in The City. Maybe their manufactured popularity here really was such that it wasn't nearly as much of a concern.

Which could be dangerous in its own ways. "...Yeah. If you wanna help the little guys, I guess integrating and becoming a cop is the best choice you got in this place." It sure as hell wasn't the military.

Tearing his thought process away from that for a moment, he turns it instead towards the other interesting tidbit. "...This railway you mentioned. Industrial? For transporting natural resources? Or civilian?"

Edited (punctuation helps) 2017-06-19 00:28 (UTC)

That was his reasoning right there: integrating. Manabu nodded, feeling a little relief that he was hearing his own logic from someone else, and it not being spoken with suspicion or doubt. Not that he didn't have friends who supported him or anything! But...but they were from places where their experiences led them to have little faith in the police, which was disheartening to think about. Manabu really wanted to prove that wrong somehow.

"Oh, uh," Manabu straightened his posture without thinking. He loved the SDF; part of him would always want to speak really well of the railway he served, even when it wasn't perfect. "All of it, actually. There's different routes and trains for different things."

He laughed, scratching at the back of his head. "Even ghosts, if you can believe it..."

Duo nodded thoughtfully. A railway of that scale... it would certainly be the kind of thing that any industrialist-owned government worth their salt would want to take control of. Hm.

Well, that was something to ask another time.

"...Ghosts." Duo gives Manabu a look that has a glimmer of being a little too interested in it, but he manages to keep whatever that was in check. Doesn't mean he won't press his curiosity. "Let me guess. The Styx line, is it? follows the river straight down to Hell?" He laughs, a little more flimsy than his previous ones. "So... what's it like? You ever been on that train? And your partner, the shinigami?"

Styx means little to nothing to Manabu, and so Duo gets just a head tilt at the concept. A train to hell sounds really unpleasant, so he's not too sure he likes the look in the priest's eye at the remark.

Then again, this is the guy who calls himself a death god, right? Just like said partner.

Manabu's mouth twitches.

"Aah, no," he says. "Sorry to disappoint...But I did ride it, once. It was..." He frowns, trying to recall it to better describe. "More sad and strange than anything...I...I didn't exactly have a lot of time to think about it, since I was trying to stop someone from staying on there and making a mistake."

The hand that'd been behind his head slips away, idling a little at his neck before falling back to his side. "I don't think that train's ever gotten to a destination before."

A train of ghosts. From the way Manabu described it, maybe it was more accurate to say it was a train of lost souls, but it was difficult to tell how literal this name really was, the level of supernatural phenomena where he came from.

'Making a mistake' was sure a way to word that, though, if it was innuendo.

It would probably be really weird to say that he'd like to try riding such a train, huh? Duo thankfully has at least that much self-awareness, but he can't help but be curious. What would it be like? What would he see- the trail of ghosts behind him, or would it be his own memento mori, the borrowed time he was on that never seemed to run out?

"A cursed train full of cursed souls." The corner of his mouth lifts, but his eyes, affixed somewhere off to the side, were shaded under the brim of his hat. "I wonder what the story is behind how that came to be."

"Did you manage to change their mind?"

He nods.

"Mm. Yeah. He still has a lot of things to do, so...so his fiancee will wait for him on the train." Manabu looks down, shifting, feeling a shade self-conscious. "At least...that's how I understand it. It's not something I really get, honestly." He looks up, a weak laugh in his voice. "Everyone else left it at that, too, even the captain. So I figure that's fine. We did our job, and nobody got hurt."

His mouth twitches. Because most of the people involved were already dead.

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