maskormenacelogs | There must be a future that we can choose

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There must be a future that we can choose

WHO: Tetsuo and YOU
WHERE: Nonah
WHEN: Plot Pull Plot
WHAT: Open Log for said plot
WARNINGS: Spoilers

[Those who know Tetsuo typically know him as a young man with black hair, typically dyed white with blue-frosted tips these days. Large forehead, very intense eyes when focused.

The kid wandering around now, lost and more than a little dazed, is most of these things. He's the exact same (entirely unchanged) height, if a little more muscular. He's also a silvery blue all over.

And he seems a lot more vacant than before, distracted by the weirdest things. Sometimes, he'll catch sight of his hand, and clench it closer to his body. Sometimes, he'll seem to just watch someone, most likely Kaneda, with a more mature kind of sadness than he should know how to feel. Sometimes he'll forget stuff about eating just because it's been a while since he had his body. His mind's just as easily miles away as it is in the moment. When he talks, he sounds humbler than he does even after death.

And when he first gets here.. he probably won't have clothing, so he'll need to borrow stuff.]

a; Wandering in a park.

[Light and life press down on him, overwhelming compared to the vast quiet. This isn't Neo Tokyo- too green, too friendly, and yet it feels so jarringly dissonant that it's impossible to not immediately tell this is somewhere he's not supposed to be. Tetsuo stands still, a statue despite his small stature, marveling at the sensation of cold wind wrapping around him.

It's been a long time since he felt cold. He doesn't seem to care, reaching one hand up to catch a branch through his fingers - he has FINGERS now - eyeing a new leaf on it.

He can't see it now, but his head knows there's patterns there, intricate shapes woven together deeper and deeper through this leaf. He can't see it now, but the wind blowing it out of his grasp holds infinite possibilities, uncountable variables... but just one path it can ever take. He can't see any of this now, the way he's come to understand a world. And that's normal, he figures, this is how he should feel. No one's supposed to know what this tree is, anymore than the rocks or the sky.

He lets his hand drop, head tilted upwards to watch clouds drift lazily in scattered patches across a stretch of blue.

It's not enough, somehow.]

America... huh?

b; Nonah 05

[He's around less than usual, but Tetsuo's still claimed his spot here. If he's not sightseeing, he could be anything from lying on the couch with his eyes half-closed, mind a million miles away, curiously poking around as if he's never been here before, lying down in the back yard, or checking over his bike all over again for the novelty of it. Or messing around with rocks in the yard, levitating them in weird patterns for Tetsuo reasons.

One thing he's not doing is playing video games, or poking around at his comm. Actually, has he even touched his comm? Is he aware of how it works?]

c; Exploring

[Compared to so many other revelations in his life, this one barely seems weird. He's human. He's got a form. He can act again on a planet, instead of be. And you might find this weirdly spacey blue kid wandering the streets, checking into businesses just to see what they are.

Or you might see him getting waylaid by extremely interested natives with a million questions, or comments, and doing his best to get rid of the flock of people. Pushing through them doesn't seem to work. Telling them he's not interested also doesn't. Telling them off in harsher tones ALSO does nothing. Walking away ... nah. Taking off only gets phones trained on him.

He lands on a roof, or over the building to duck into the first place he sees just to be left alone.]

WILDCARD - feel free to throw up more starters or ask for a specific one.

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[She's right. There's plenty of people who aren't, even more that never are going to be again. Sometimes, it felt like he was both, drifting as a nebulous concept unbound by anything.

Right now, he's here. Locked to one place, at one time.

His hands hesitantly move, awkward in his attempt to make contact, but not too much. There's a delicate balance he needs to find, but Tetsuo's never known how to be delicate. He ends up awkwardly pressing one hand to her side, the other trying to figure out if it wants to be on her back or hanging at his side.

This is beyond awkward, but he can't make himself care.]

...

I don't have one.

[That he knows of.]

[ She's patient, though. She's . . . always patient with him, waiting for him to fumble toward his own answers and work things out. He can do it if he tries.

. . . and if she has reasons for why this kind of thing is hard for her, he surely does too . . .

It's okay. Even if she shivers as his hand finds her waist, the contact making her awareness of him even more inescapable (not that she's trying to escape it), and there's the errant thought there, always, under everything else, of just how much clothing gets in the way . . . it's not bad. This is okay. ]

You do.

You probably . . . have a lot of things right now you don't know anything about. But they're still yours.

[He shakes his head. On that, he's actually not sure at all - are the other versions of him still him? The Kaneda here feels like his Kaneda. He remembers the things Tetsuo does, despite knowing this other version. So while he speaks with a bleak certainty, he doesn't feel certain at all.

Existence is so confusing.]

Someone like me might have stuff like that. I'm not the same person.

[That Tetsuo has a place here. He doesn't have to leave, and maybe he doesn't have to wait for it to all repeat all over again. The Tetsuo here has had a friend eight months, he's heard.

He can't claim he was keeping track of time in Neo Tokyo too closely, but it wasn't longer than three months there. So maybe, that Tetsuo is older than Tetsuo ever got back when he was still... ]

Edited 2016-04-06 04:25 (UTC)

How do you know?

[ It's honestly curious. She knows what her own senses say, but it's . . . not like time travel and alternate dimensions are really her field. Maybe he's not . . . ?

It doesn't feel right, though, somehow. ]

[He doesn't.]

This place... it didn't happen.

["I just know", he might have said.]

I've..

[But there's confusion there. Familiarity winds around the unfamiliar, blending them into a confused jumble in his head. There's just too much to try to keep track of. Maybe somewhere in there, a boy named Tetsuo existed here.

It's not all unfamiliar enough. And that's where the creeping uncertainty clouds his thoughts with growing doubt. Not all of this can be accounted for...]

I wouldn't forget stuff like this.

[ She sighs, shoulders falling in a way he can feel. She didn't . . . spend a lot of time thinking about this, normally, or even really acknowledging it . . . she probably should, at some point.

Maybe now. It's kind of important, right now. ]

. . . I don't . . . really think it's something we get to remember. Not if we're sent back. This world, and the people here . . . and all the things that happen, and that we've done. People who've left, and come back . . . they say they forget. Sometimes they come back and they don't even remember they had something to forget.

[ Slowly, thoughtfully, she lets go of his shirt, spreading her hand across his shoulder blade instead. ]

Even if it's like that, you aren't . . . really acting like I'm a stranger, right now.

You're not.

[He says it quietly, before he's had time to think about it. It's true; she doesn't feel like one. It's also true that he'd know if any of this took place - memories aren't things you just lose. They're there somewhere.

...

But all this feels familiar. And you don't lose memories, he'd already learned that. So - how? How could someone like him forget this? Especially someone like him, locked in a realm with people who didn't speak with words anymore, reading the hearts and minds of the others exiled. If he didn't find this place, they would have.

At least Tetsuo now recognizes when he's trapped in a loop of conflicting truths instead of blaming it all the world for confusing him. He can be content with only blaming it some, now.]

I can't explain it. I thought I got it all back, everything I'd locked up... was I wrong?

[But his other hand finally curls around onto her back, pulling her closer to him, head bowed to her shoulder. That's proof enough that something inside him wants to do this. Or needs to...]

But I know you...

[ Another half step forward, and it's familiar, this feeling . . . the way he relaxes, finally, the last of . . . something falling away. There's no folds of wool under her fingers this time, no frost edging her thoughts, and the soft chorus of crystal bells is so delicate under all the walls he keeps between himself and the world. ]

I'm glad.

[ Maybe it would be okay. Maybe it really was okay just to be here now. Even if they all forgot each other later, as long as there was chance something would still be there if they met again, wasn't that enough?

Wasn't it more than enough?]

I know you too. This sound . . . no matter how different, it's still Tetsuo-kun.

I wondered...

[Some deep instinct whispers to him - if anyone besides Kaneda would know immediately, it would be the girl he's got in his arms for reasons he can't explain or begin to understand. Maybe he doesn't really need those reasons, or he knows them somewhere and just can't get them yet... Enlightenment is one hell of a drug.

As long as everyone can tell who he is, after all that's happened... he knew who he was. But affirmation from sources that aren't in him or part of his mindscape is important.]

If it's still me, I can live with it.

[He'll have to either way. Possibly forever. There's a thought he doesn't want to dwell on right now...]

It is. At least . . . it is to me.

[ She'd closed her eyes at some point, just listening . . . holding bits and pieces of his melody in her mind. A scattering of notes, as single chord . . . ]

Even if the difference is like . . . the kind of final form that only gets released in the Ultimate Edition, and you need to play through the whole game twice to see.

Edited 2016-04-12 03:37 (UTC)

[All of Tetsuo's experience with games don't come with saves, or even endings, let alone edition rereleases and New Game+ options. No amount of celestial familiarity could prepare him for an analogy that convoluted; this time, it's him that feels lost, without context.

Is that a reference to something?]

...Ultimate Edition of... what?

[He tried. At the least, it's a brief escape from the topic just a few seconds ago. Something confusing instead of something depressing or difficult for him to wrap his mind around anymore.]

[ Oh. Oh no. That . . .

Her laughter at his too-familiar confusion is brief and light, fingers bunching in his shirt again, grip tight and she just can't help it, she really can't. If there'd been any doubt at all . . . but no. He's definitely the same. ]

Ahh, sorry, I . . . it's too early for that isn't it? Or too late . . .

[ Some last, lingering tension uncurls as she settles again. Her eyes aren't burning any more, and if her cheeks are a bit wet—she shifts a bit to scrub at them—it was only laughter. Wasn't it? ]

Games. Video games. They're played on TVs, or cellphones, or computers . . . I don't know much about them either, but . . . people I've known do.

I just meant . . . you're incredible. That's all.

It's good to hear laughter. He doesn't even care that he's its source - if there's any flicker of anxiety or defensiveness, that remembered scrap of who he was is gone in the next instant, faded away into bemusement. He still isn't completely clear, but he does know video games. They exist as a dedicated machine to run that specific arcade machine.

Either way, she's got it. The way she describes them, they're something that may be techically beyond what his world before knew.

Maybe it's in a future with gates that shut him out sometime in his past. Too early,and way too late... or he could just have no idea.]

Mmm... maybe, I could be.

[Words he would have said all along mean something so different now. It's not a proud boast, or determined mantra. It's a fact, one looking to the future. It's even a humble one, if accurate - he's nothing compared to what he is in that other place.]

Who knows...

[There's no way he can stay like this and he knows damn well that's the case. But, maybe.. he doesn't have to say that right now.]

It's okay. It's not . . .

[ No, that's not right.

She lifts her hand from his head, fingers smoothing the spikes of his hair as she rests it down on the nape of his neck instead. ]

. . . I'm not . . . someone you need explain it to. Not unless you want to.

[ She and Tetsuo she'd known . . . they didn't really have that kind of relationship, after all. Not that she really knew what kind they did have . . . but he'd know even less right now, wouldn't he? If he really only had impressions of the past she knew, and echoes of a future she hadn't lived yet . . . ]

Should I introduce myself again?

[Good. Because there's no words that could explain. It's not something that should be attempted too hard.]

Yeah. You should.

[He can't say he doesn't remember her, nor does he want to. This may not even be the most awkward thing he could be part of right now, all things considered. It's not nearly awkward enough to want to pull back from her fingers rearranging his hair - hell if he knows what it looks like, probably not great - or NOT have this contact.

She's not Kaori, but that's not her fault. She's someone who also feels important.

Maybe it'd be expected of him to apologize for that, but he wouldn't. Things like that aren't used lightly, and missing a name from another universe doesn't begin to count.]

Kururu.

[ It doesn't sound like she expects an apology. If anything, she'd almost have expected him to forget; between timelines and transcendence and the whims of the Porters, the only surprising thing is how he's kept any impression of her at all. ]

Kururu Sumeragi, but you . . .

I'd like it, if you'd still call me Kururu.

Okay, Kururu.

[He finally makes himself let go, and move back just enough to break contact. With a name, she's got more permanence. Or maybe it finally sunk in beyond his fears and insecurities that holding onto someone he didn't have the name of was a little weird.

It just didn't seem that way.]

You already know my name.

[And there's no alteration made. How she says it is fine.

...

What else is there to say? There SHOULD be something...]

[ It's no weirder for her than any of the other times they've spent together, as varied as those have been . . . but she's never been that conscious of how other people see her, either. And this is America, where all the rules were different anyway . . .

She lets go easily as he pulls back, taking just a moment to adjust to the sound of her heart beating alone instead of in time with his, to the chill feel of the air on her front. It's not that cold, at least; nothing at all compared to the shock of last time. ]

Tetsuo-kun.

. . . we met in your house, the first time. I've been staying there. And on a battleship between New Zealand and Antarctica, the second . . . you were worn out after a fight.

I learned your name the third time.

My house...

[He rolls the word around, as if 'Antarctica' and 'New Zealand' made more logical sense than that word. It feels strange in his voice.]

What happened the third time?

I asked.

[ Just as simple as that, really, for all that the memory is a warm one. ]

It was Setsubun . . . Yayoi-san and I wanted to say thank you to everyone for letting us stay, and there'd been a lot that had happened in the weeks before. She and I roasted soybeans and put them out with oni masks, and made sukiyaki for dinner . . . most of the house speaks Japanese, so even if we don't know much about the places everyone comes from, we just . . . wanted to share that little bit of home together.

Was it? Wish I remembered that.

[His eyes drift off to the side, unfocusing just a bit as he listens. She probably doesn't know, but there's nothing she could do to show gratitude that would be better. For Kaneda, too, but he won't speak for the other.]

Heh... it's funny. First time I got a chance to do it right, and it's in America.

[ Again . . .

He said so many things like that. Little things that added tone and depth to the growth of his muscles and bones. For all that he never talked about home . . . sometimes she wondered if her picture of it was that far off.

Not that it really mattered though. Whatever his past, and whatever, potentially, his future . . . the Tetsuo-kun that he was right 'now' would always be the most important. ]

I don't really know if that was really celebrating it right. There were some things . . . probably a lot of things that weren't really traditional. And it was a really big mess, but . . . it was good, hearing everyone laugh for a while.

[ Especially after the weeks before. If only it had lasted into the weeks after . . . but that's really not a good thing to think about. ]

Ne, Tetsuo-kun . . . have you had bubble tea?

[He looks thoughtful as she describes it, trying to picture what it must have been like. It's hard to imagine - he hasn't laughed with a group in... in....

Back when he joined Kaneda's gang, before he got bitter at how they treated him? Was that the last time? Maybe so. He'd harbored so much resentment towards everything back then! It's amazing to consider that here, maybe he'd gotten past enough... At some point, his attention wandered out to the side, staring blankly ahead deep into his own memories.

His name's enough to catch his attention back to the present.

He looks up, back to her... and shakes his head at the question.]

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