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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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.

So that's how it was... "Forlorn love. What a classic." He could say it reminds him of someone(s), but the sting is a little too close, still. "I think it looks better in Shakespeare than in real life, but that's just me."

And, well, he'd already been left behind enough that it was a little late for any foolish throwing himself into the grave. Not that it was something he'd do, besides. He thinks Manabu gets it just fine, but he'll let the kid be without pointing it out. It was better that he wasn't that type of person.

"In that case, maybe you were already used to the kinds of nutty, supernatural stuff that pops up around here, if you've got ghosts zooming around on your trains? Vampires and aliens and angels- all that stuff. I imagine the native police force hasn't got a damn clue what to do with itself when that crops up."

His hands go up and wave a little.

"A-aa, nothing that crazy!" he admits quickly, worried he had sold himself as some kind of supernatural-situation expert. "I mean, the things that have happened in the time I've been here can get way over my head really quick."

He hesitates. Is that...selling himself too short, though? His eyes wince and he straightens up. "But even so...Even the weird stuff won't stop me from trying to do my best to help. It didn't back home, so it shouldn't here."

"It'd be good for the police force to have someone who can handle that crazy crap, even if they end up relying on you way too much." He cracks a grin at Manabu's modesty. "I heard about that RISE group, so I guess they're taking care of powered crime, for the most part. But the danger in the Porter is that you never know when an established group like that can up and vanish. And then this world is left without a stable way to handle imPort problems."

He supposed it was the same with imPorts settling into the native population, too. His mind wanders, thinking about how long some people had apparently been in The City. What would have happened if imPorts settled in, married, had kids?

He looked thoughtful, but kept those questions to himself and continued his other train of thought. "What they should really do is have you train some native cops in how to handle that stuff. Way back when, we didn't even have any cops to help train, so it was a mess. But here, I wonder why they keep relying on imPorts to throw themselves at each other, instead of learn to handle it themselves."

He points at himself, blinking.

"Me?" Train? Not that he wouldn't volunteer himself, but...but he can almost hear half of Sirius platoon laughing in the distance at the idea. Even if it's not that laughable an idea to Manabu, he can still hear it. Jeez...

"Haa, well...I mean, I don't disagree," he fumbles, catching up. "I kind of figured stuff was already happening in that sense, after all this time. But then again, maybe it's all...tangled up in costly political stuff..." He shrugs weakly. That seems plausible to him, anyway.

"But whatever the case, I'll...do what I can."

"Sure! You, train." He flashes another of those sunny, easygoing smiles. "Like I said, kid, don't undersell your experience. People like to follow a guy with strong morals and some experience under their belt. You just gotta show them you got the confidence in your abilities." People followed a lot less than that, too. But it would sure be better if it was the idealist.

...Speaking of which, he flicks one of those sidelong glances again, nodding slowly along with Manabu's assumption. "Tangled up in politics is probably right." Costly, probably not so much the issue. Well, but that was something for him to dig up. "And in military."

"Aa..." Manabu's eyes glaze a little at the thought. He's not far from military himself and even he gets tired of the bureaucracy that gets tangled into things. He's much better suited to being up front and hard at work where he can see results happening right before his eyes, rather than stamping a few sheets and waiting ten business days.

He blinks back into focus, giving this Shin-guy a careful look, starting to frown. His demeanor's not bad, but...but he gets this weird feeling nagging at him.

"Hey," he starts, cautious, his eyes wincing a little. "You're not--saying that encouraging stuff just to be sarcastic, are you? Only because--a lot of people who've been here a while...well. They're not that...they don't really seem to believe much can be helped whether they do anything or not."

It was because Duo was the same kind of bootstraps guy that he thought he could give this guy a bit of the advice he'd picked up over the years- that and that the guy was the sort of genuine, thoughtful person that he thought he could trust it with. Maybe it was a flaw of his that he tended to decide whether people were truly trustworthy or not pretty quickly, but he always thought he had a nose for when he was being played.

It's for that reason, too, that he frowns at Manabu's question, heaving a deep sigh and rubbing the back of his head, adjusting his hat. Well now, he had to tell the truth for real when he was called out like that, didn't he?

"Ech... I'll give it to you straight, pal. I'm not trying to mess with you. If I was, I'd probably be trying a bit harder at it- but really..." His expression changes again, any remaining sarcasm leaking out of it. "I've seen a lot of shit. Mostly politics-and-war shit. And maybe I didn't see as much of what went down in The City as the others who are left, but..."

The look he gives Manabu this time is stern, entirely serious, rather than the joking smirks or casual morbidity of his usual expressions. "Not all of us can do what it is you're trying to do without getting our hands filthy, either. So you should keep doing what you're doing, even if it seems hopeless to everyone else. Nobody can do a damn thing without hope, and maybe some of the oldtimers here need to remember that, too."

Himself included. He looks away again. "I hope you can be the change you wanna see. I really do."

Somewhere in that talk, Manabu's eyes drop away. He's ashamed of himself for doubting honest encouragement, and moreso hearing the earnest tone Duo shifts to. He probably shouldn't really blame himself too much, considering the atmosphere long-timers give off and what passes for status-quo among ImPorts, but he wouldn't be himself if he cut slack like that.

As if it's choreographed, Manabu looks back when Duo looks away, the resolve creeping back into his somber expression.

"Well, I can only do what I can," he says. "Whether that changes anything at all...I don't know if I have a say in all that. If destiny really is real, I can't do much about it but keep moving forward and hope it's on my side."

Edited (SH) 2017-06-21 02:52 (UTC)

Duo looks back after a second, catching Manabu's eyes- after a moment, his face splits back into one of his trademark grins, although this one is a great deal warmer than before, and more genuine.

Destiny, huh. If Death and Destiny were really 2 parts of the same higher power, then he could say he agreed with that sentiment.

"Well, I'll let you in on a little secret I guess." Duo's grin takes on a dangerous and glinting quality, a little like in that way it did when he talked about "shinigami". "I'm gonna get my hands real dirty in this place. That's my resolve."

Even if they were Ported out tomorrow, if he could just help the natives or those who remained behind a little bit before he was dePorted, it was worth the trouble.

The shift in the quality of Duo's look catches Manabu off-guard, who himself looks a little taken aback, shaken out of his moody frown. He blinks, letting that look at that remark sink in, before he nods, his mouth twitching at a corner.

"I hope that doesn't wind up with us on opposing sides," he says. "I'll have something to say about it if it means people wind up getting hurt, you know."

Duo's grin softened into something more blithe again, if a little regretful. His brows knit together with the pain of honesty. "It might," he agrees to the first statement. "I'm probably going to start some real shit. But hey, I try to only kill people that have it coming." His tone was so casual, it was hard to tell if he was being sarcastic.

Well, considering he was a 'shinigami', it definitely was, on some level. The ones he killed, and the ones he killed.

It softens again just for a flash. "The people of this country aren't my enemy." As for who his enemy was in the government, if any, he still had to determine that. For now, he had his sights on the ones who sought foolish destabilization before anything else.

"Mm." He nods, smiling small. He thinks he understands; doing the right thing doesn't always keep you in the clear.

"Well...be careful," he says, stuffing his hands in his pockets. "I...I can't presume to give advice besides that, ha. But I still mean it. I'd hate to hear you wound up in real trouble for trying to do the right thing."

"I'm probably going to die, actually!" Duo laughs, a bit awkward, a bit too cheerful. "But hey, it'll be for the right and good, yanno? No big deal. Porter brings people back crazy-like, but it brings 'em back."

An absolute sin that should never be allowed, if anyone asked his honest truth. But hey, the damn Porter had control over Death Herself. Who was he to tell it what to do?

"Mind you, I'm gonna try not to. I'd really rather not. I hear it hurts like hell."

His eyes wince at that. He'd forgotten that particular tidbit of Porter science.

"Ri-right..." He exhales in a little puff, shaking his head. "Well, either way...thanks for--" He gestures toward the bike with a nod. "For helping me out. Even if that part before actually...hurt like hell."

Duo cracks a wider grin, chuckling at the returned phrase, even if Manabu didn't know the reason. "Yeah, no problem. Sorry for punching you, even if it's weird Porter stuff."

He nods to the bike. "Well, hope you hold onto it, this time. I think I'm gonna get myself one real soon, too. Well, a motorbike. Gotta figure out what the good parts are in this era, so I can start looking for bits to put it together." And the money, but the whole 'undercover in an evil organization' thing was giving a nice stipend, conveniently.

He turns back towards the street, winking an eye over-shoulder. "Aaah, I've spent too long chit-chatting, I should get back to work. Get home safe this time, you hear?"

Manabu smiles queasily, still embarrassed by the whole ordeal, but resigned to it. He nods, bowing slightly.

"I-I will," he calls back. "You, too..."

Sigh. Well...That was an interesting person, for sure. But Manabu really wishes he'd stop having to meet new people fist-first...

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Copernican Theory and Other Such Things [OPEN]

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