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 Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 7:48 pm
So his father's from China. His lack of fluent chinese suggested a first-generation american rather than a child born and raised in China, then imported to the States. What a strange tale to get caught up in — I ran into a boy sneaking past curfew who couldn't find his father. I wonder if his is anything like mine.
Like mine was. He frowned then, and tucked his gaze toward the floor as he listened. His legs crossed at the knee, then uncrossed, then swung restlessly, then crossed again. Fingernails curled to meet the edge of the desk. While his expression evened, rumination traced its telltale lines into his shoulders. The burden struggled to stay on his back — to place upon it guilt and shame and self-deprecation. It hurged that he could have done more, said more, been more proactive. He would not hear it, however, and shifted his attention to his cohort in full.
"I could help you." His offer even in tone, he added nothing more to it.
Already he considered a few ways to address such a problem — a database check of name and birth date aganst records kept by the international airlines based in California. It wouldn't catch any that bankrupted between then and now, but sourcing people thrived on information sweeps. Any immigrant citizen required documentation, and while he knew no specifics on it now, a cursory investigation would inform him enough. Again, database searches. Everything came back to database searches. And if he could find this man, this father to a boy who broke curfew rules? Then he had practice with the problem of locating incognito senshi, knights, and purified agents. And what's more —
He shut his eyes for a moment and swallowed. "If you're looking for help."sleet tempest snape i missed the notification before, sorry!
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Posted: Wed Mar 21, 2018 8:27 pm
Even as he spoke he had been watching the other, they seemed unable to stay still, was he boring them? Should he have stopped talking? Before he could say anything, question it, or apologize the other was offering the help. A stranger offering to help him with his problem. He didn't know how they could help but he was sure if they were offering they knew something - right? Why offer if they could do nothing, and they did sound like they knew a bit more than he did.
"I am...help would be appreciated. You do sound like you know more where to look than I do. But I admit...I feel a bit like a drowning person. It's a lot or hurdles to me and it seems daunting...so someone else, with a clearer head than mine would be better." It would take him longer because he couldn't focus on it all, couldn't work his way through things, plus he wasn't willing to risk to break laws. He had never done such things anyway, had no idea what sorts of data bases were out there or where...or even what they had for information.
"I can bring you copies of the documents? If you want to meet up..." The offer was nice and it didn't come with strings attached. He loved Lovina, she really was a great friend, but using the Negaverse would no doubt come with some sort of strings...or they'd find out who he was and his family. He would take risks with his own life, in a fight, but he wouldn't take risks with this. This was too personal...too close to home...or what he was trying to build and make a home and family for himself.
"Just let me know when and if I can help somehow." Beyond providing the information, of course.
Strickenized It's ok, it happens. I've had it happen a few times to me.
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Posted: Sun Apr 01, 2018 3:59 pm
Someone with a clearer head. Isn't that what we all wish for.
"Copies are where it begins." Knowing the names and processing numbers on the documents offered an ample first step. This sojourn into information search-and-gather felt unorthodox for Negaverse training purposes, but he learned his own distaste for Negaverse orthodoxy long ago — if such a term could be said.
The forum opened between them, and he steered the conversation with a modicum of cunning. "I'll be around Romano's again next week. Earlier, obviously. Meet me at the cafe near campus." The time would be left for his companion to decide; he lacked the spell of social and civil obligation that so shackled all the people he knew. If this curfew-breaker was like anyone else he knew, personal projects were so often shelved or relegated to the worst hours. To the times when everyone else's demands were sated, when the world was quiet, when idleness begat more anxiety than self-indulgence.
But this boy might surprise him. He quite liked being proved wrong in these respects.
He slid from the desk unceremoniously. A quick pocket check brought out his watch, dangled from its gold chain, and opened to the right-wrong time. Ten minutes. The thought drove a level of restlessness into his being.
Wordlessly he looked to the windows fitted near the library doors, and stared at the long, rectangular shadows that painted light through the hall. They loomed like teeth, waiting to bleed away someone's anonymity. "I'll leave you my number." In the bright of the library, the pending disaster of his identity still felt distant. Ten minutes' distant, but distant. He poached a pencil regardless, and scribbled out his number on one of their disposable bookmarks. The jagged writing bespoke half formal training and half irreverence for that formal training. Handing it off was a matter of slipping from the desk and crossing the room in a few strokes.
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Posted: Mon Apr 02, 2018 7:45 pm
For a moment, a few moments really, he did consider the idea of making copies and handing it over to what really was a stranger. But he had to figure he'd be doing the same thing if he did things himself. At least this was getting the work done, work he didn't even know where to begin with. What could they do with the information anyway? Seriously, what could they do with it?
"Ok...Friday afternoon?" Most people on a Friday would be out visiting parents or having fun, not sticking around campus, so it would be a good time to meet up with someone. He could remember how fast some people raced off campus on Fridays, it didn't surprise him though. Fridays meant time for yourself and away from all the work that came with school, till Sunday night when you were left with homework still to due. "The cafe sounds good." Even if students wondered in it wouldn't seem off at all. "I have off work Friday so it'll be easy for me. I mean...I hope that's not inconvenient for you, if it is I can find the time to meet when you can."
Watching as the other scribbled out his number Xi-Wang held his hand out as the other approached him. Taking it he pocketed it with ease. "Thanks...and I'll see you soon." He really was glad for this strangers offer to help, it meant a lot to him. It might just give him another puzzle piece to the whole which was his life. He hoped it worked out.
Once the other was gone Xi-Wang had decided to head out himself, going down the hall and out a backdoor that was still unlocked. He kept to the shadows of the campus in order to get out without having to power up and find a mirror somewhere. Mirrorwalking would be easier, and quicker, but he honestly didn't feel like powering up tonight. Strickenized I think we can call this done.
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Posted: Fri Apr 06, 2018 5:22 pm
"Friday afternoon," he concurred. Counting minutes urged brevity, however, and he left the rest of his conversation to cool. All that could be said would find its stage on Friday.
He returned to the long shadows painted in the hall, and spared a glance back only long enough to survey this new responsibility. "Don't get caught," he added cheekily. After gathering his books, the door swung shut to a quiet latch behind him.
Leaving the school beyond Xi-Wang's purview proved far easier. As he sidled into shadows, thick swaths of pristine skin burnt and melted away, crisping at the edges, blazing in light furls of papered skin, before dissolving into smoke. The sclerae fell from his eyes. Pipes raveled into existence and promised to paint their payload across the ceiling, to curse the halls with the heady scent of copper and salt. A breath passed, he heard the latch of the library door swinging open, and he vanished before Xi-Wang left the threshold.
He felt, in reflection, the strangeness of being so assertive. What an intoxicating paradox.
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