nysalogs | . under starless skies . closed

[Of course Diva would befriend the human version of a Tasmanian devil. He'll maintain a five-foot distance as the child questions him, as if he were the intruder.]

Obviously.

[Slowly, he'll take a knee, offering that glass outward. A technique that works on most nervous dogs...]

Since the fall, at least. Diva should have mentioned something.

[Not obviously! Takasugi's eyes squint, as violently as a nine year old can muster. His nostrils flare; the boy isn't adept at disguising his anger.

That particular facade of self-control took decades to polish.]

She was too busy trying to eat me. [HMPH!

Takasugi has half a mind to knock the water from this condescending guy's hand, but for now he just ignores it.] What's the fall? [Too busy betraying how utterly confused he is.]

[This is the way Solomon's looking at Takasugi rn. That's. Interesting. He can't accuse the boy of lying and will not, but it's interesting that that would be her first instinct. She had been on a terrible kick of befriending the worst people in existence.

A homeless toddler should be up her alley.]

Oh? [Finally.] I apologize on her behalf.

[More importantly, what the fuck's up with this new trendy slang shit.]

I'd like for you to accept this [free water cup.] for all the troubled you've endured. How's that?

Edited (H T M L) 2018-08-22 00:40 (UTC)

[Takasugi doesn't want an apology, and he doesn't want your damn water, either! Sure, his throat is still scratchy - eyes still reddened by the whole choking out on nothing ordeal, but when something's thrust in front of him like this...

He just wants to knock it over.]

I'd rather have an explanation.

Where am I, and why am I here? [Upturns his nose at the water, as if Solomon were trying to get him to take some sort of 'berry' tasting medicine that's more reminiscent of licking roadkill.]

And how would I know that?

[This is like the bad version of waking up to a new puppy in your house. Or like, waking up and you've got a new dog and it turns out the dog can talk and it hates you.]

I would assume that you came in through the front door, unless you're talking about the planet itself..?

[Why are the orbiters subjecting kids to complicated stuff???]

[This guy is... confusing. Annoying!

What's doubly frustrated is that Takasugi knows so little, he can't even manage a rebuttal to the patronizing non-answer.]

I don't remember coming in.

[Planet? He's heard of creatures from beyond their Earth, but he'd never met such a thing.

Take a deep breath. Slow down. One thing at a time.] I just woke up on your couch. [Where the usual Takasugi had fallen asleep, at some ungodly hour the night prior.]

[Maybe he'd been drugged by the weird plants this place has to offer, something like that. On the other hand, he hadn't heard the kid come in either. The additional information is a little startling -- but only a little, and only because that couch serves as a bed overnight and he can't imagine Takasugi fairing well with a child interrupting him mid-sleep.

Not that he's terrible with Diva, but Diva possesses other...attributes that demand some level of respect.]

And when you woke, you were by yourself? [A beat.] What is your name...?

[You know, to build camaraderie. He'll set his glass down atop the nearest counter, only because this may take a while....]

[Rather than a nod, Takasugi offers knit brows - if he wasn't alone, he would have said something! What a stupid question.

Just like asking for his name. They're total strangers, why would his name matter?

Bottom lip visibly working against a pout, Takasugi straightens. He'll acquiesce, but only because this guy gave in to his denial of the water.

Petty compromise for petty compromise.] Takasugi Shinsuke.

[He isn't polite enough to return the question.]

[Solomon stares for a moment, waiting for the punchline and when one doesn't come, he just laughs; that's the most asinine lie he's heard in recent history. Perhaps Takasugi told him to say something like that, but there's no way the Nysan overlords would do something like whatever this kid is trying to say.]

Is that so? [Skepticism running rampant.] I should have known this would have something to do with him, but you don't have to be dishonest.

[We don't use code names in this house.]

[Takasugi's eyes grow wider every second Solomon spends laughing. Incredulous anger, worn as blatantly as only a child can - he breaks his 'searing glare' only to spare a thought to grabbing that water and splashing this bastard with it.

He moves over to the glass, definitively! taking it in hand.

Ruthless attack at the ready, but held steady for now.] You sound like you know that name.

Takasugi.

I'm not part of my father's lineage, so forget anything you know. [He holds himself back only because his resentment for his family is more deeply rooted than his annoyance with this weirdass foreigner.]

[>Father
>Takasugi

Okay, here's where the internal music rips. He's gotta admit, the kid does kind of resemble him? In the hair, at least. Not the eyes. He's stopped laughing with that statement, in being forced to contemplate the truth behind his statement. Maybe he is Takasugi's.

And now they're both dads. It would be exactly like him to give his kin the exact same name as himself...]

He's never mentioned having a child before.

[There's no suspicion in his mind as Small Takasugi goes for the water. If anything, there's some satisfaction in the motion. Be Nice.]

[~~Not the eyes... because he has two?~~

Did his father know any foreigners? It's plausible, but Takasugi hadn't bothered to be so aware of his family's dealings. Any relationships founded were just a sorry attempt to climb the social ladder, anyway-

But it's inconceivable that there would be no overture made to how many sons his father had. Or even a preemptive cover-up for his eldest, ill behaved heir.]

How do you know him...? [Suspicious.

Now gripping that water like it's a lifeline, his fingers frozen to the glass.]

Edited 2018-08-31 01:46 (UTC)

[~~well yes...~~

Okay, that's a tmi question, kid. It doesn't sound like they're on very good terms, so implying anything friendly could be detrimental to whatever progress he's made here (since when does he care about befriending a little kid??); he'll fall into a squat -- again, not to be condescending. It's practically out of habit.]

He's a refugee here. Our paths have crossed more than once, that's all.

[The sparknotes version.]

Now, have your drink. If you're hungry, cooking something isn't a problem.

[Eye level, Takasugi takes the opportunity he'd denied previously to consider the man's features. Everything about him is strange, from the shape of his eyes to the lightness of his hair.

He doesn't look human.] A refugee, huh?

I think I'd know if we got chased out of our own house. [Too stubborn to believe that little story, Takasugi's argument is the aural equivalent of rolling eyes.

He does drink, though, with a mental attempt to find as much wrong with the water as possible. Unfortunately, it tastes fine; he finishes the glass, but keeps it in hand.

Extending it would be a distraction from the questions at hand.]

[There's a moment wherein he wonders if he needs to define what a refugee is. He does not, Babey Takasugi presses on too fast. Phew.]

And yet, you can't remember how you ended up here.

[He'd refill that cup if at all asked; he seems fine for now. He'll opt to stand back up, head over to the cupboards; he's not sure what, exactly, a small vagabond would want as a preferred snackeroo. He doesn't have any lunchables or dunkaroos...

Overall, they don't have a ton of different food, considering?/? There are some things to eat, obviously, just not an abundance. He'd have more options were things slightly more normal, but where he does play host to at least one human, there is more of a selection than normal.

First thing's first: he's not going to boil any water because it may end up being a big fucking waste of time. He'll address the fruit bowl next, begin skinning an apple with the finesse of Martha Stewart. A naked apple's eventually diced into smaller pieces, like half-full moons.]

Now, is it only you here? Should I fret about Diva eating your siblings?

[Read as: how many other kids did this dude sire??? Where are they???]

[R u d e as hell!

A child getting sassed by an adult isn't anywhere near as fun when he's the kid, instead of the grown up. Takasugi's teeth grit, lips pressed thin in a feature that looks like he's just eaten a bug.

He hasn't perfected looking unaffected quite yet.

The home's owner moves idly; Takasugi doesn't want to be left standing taking this too seriously alone, like some kind of idiot. He places the cup on the counter near the sink, and then leans into Solomon's space.

To pluck one of those apple slices from the plate before they're all finished. Too greedy, even at this age. Popping the thing into his mouth with no histrionics, he seems to be settling in, making himself at home.

Leaning against the counter next to his host, as if he has the run of the place.] Don't know, but if you find them, she can have them. [Maybe that'd make his dad think twice about his threats of disenfranchisement.

Not that Takasugi wants to remain a member of his family any longer than he has to.] Let her eat my dad, too, if he comes back by. [Like discussing chores.

That one's taking out the trash.]

[Good...so offering him things outright is bad, but he's cool about pilfering things with absolutely no tact whatsoever. The good news is that: he'd been preparing apple slices specifically for Takasugi's consumption. The bad news is that: he's snacking without dipping them in peanut butter.

Which, after arranging the apple slices in proper form, tossing the skin and plopping a wad of PB toward the center of the plate this is all taking place on, he's abandoning it on the stretch of counter between them.]

I won't tell them you said that, in case one were to escape. [This lil shitty kid is kinda cute.] Would you let her rob you of that? You may end up regretting it.

[The opportunity to do it himself one day -- Takasugi should be physically 60 years old by the time this kid's filled his britches. He's overall more concerned with refilling that glass of water, finally.]

[What's peanut butter? Brown paste dolloped in the middle of the offering draws a quizzical stare from the boy. As Solomon planned, leaving the thing unattended garners Takasugi's attention, though he's dipping his finger in the strange substance and sampling it before trying the two together.

The taste is decidedly foreign, but it isn't bad.

He'll eat them as intended.

Mouth stuffed with apple and thick peanut butter (he'd underestimated how hard this stuff would be to swallow), it's hard to smirk.

But he's doing his best.] Heh- [The same high pitched laugh, clipped and obnoxious.] We aren't that close.

I don't even want to see him long enough to run a sword through his belly.

Though, if I'm not disowned by the time he keels over, that'll be troublesome. [Muttered to himself, between attempts to lick peanut butter from his teeth.

He reaches for that water like a man lost in the desert.]

How about you just tell him I'm dead. [Say Diva had a little snack.]

[The way to a kid's heart: snackies.

Or was that dogs?

Either way, he won't intervene with the process. Takasugi's kid is decidedly interesting -- inwardly glad Diva hadn't eaten him ahead of time. The kind of kid you'd have to worry about beheading you in your sleep, or setting his siblings on fire. Like those kids who's parents show up on Evil Lives Here and talk about how bizarre their kid acts on the regular but gosh we didn't know he was capable of maiming someone with a sword.

It's surprising, how he talks about murder and being disowned. Surprising, a little sad. The water's granted, a napkin comes soon after.]

He doesn't need to know anything. If you'd like, I'll keep your presence a secret.

[He's motioning for Little Takasugi to sit at the table, Have A Sit. He'll leave a chair untucked for him at least, and then move to occupy one for himself. It's a Monkey See Monkey Do move.]

Now, if you don't mind my asking, how old are you?

[A question he detests himself.]

[That's not what he'd asked for - neither the napkin, nor the assurance of total secrecy. A sudden idea for conspiracy, mundane though it may have been, had tangled hold of Takasugi's stomach. The giddiness only a child can experience, though typically on Christmas morning.

Instead of talking about killing your dad, or faking your death.

But he's an... interesting kid. Yeah. Go with that.

With a fleeting glare cast to the napkin, as if it'd interrupted something important, Takasugi's lips purse. A moment of dissatisfaction - he liked his eaten by a vampire queen story better.

But the topic shifts, so he'll leave it for now. Intending to return to it later-]

Nine.

[Said while he takes a chair for himself, turning it backwards before perching on it, one leg folded, knee to chest, and the other hanging off of the side. Does his exact age matter? There's no denying he's young, what more is there to glean?]

My turn to ask a question. [Demanding! He doesn't wait for a rebuttal.] What made us all refugees?

[Ah, not even in double digits yet. That's an important transition for all kids, not that it makes them any less of a child. He'd humor him with that kind of filler if he seemed the type to care. He'll cross one leg over the other, regard him with an air of further curiosity, but won't bombard him.

It's all a matter of nosiness. Takasugi fathered a kid just nine years ago -- how many others had he produced in between? How goddamn old is Takasugi anyway? Questions that would prompt a 50s housewife to faint. He's merely nosy.]

Of course.

[Were he less eloquent (for a goddamn 9 year old), he may have declined. Solomon doesn't always enjoy questions.]

The storm.

[But this one's easy enough. He's not sure how true that story is, but he's alright with believing it. He's got nothing to lose one way or another.]

One large enough, and capable enough to decimate planets. You and I -- your father and many others were spared certain doom.

[Or maybe that version of themselves perished and they woke up in another timeline as themselves, but this is the wrong character to bracket conspiracy theories with.]

[Opposed to the bulwark of propriety that this man presents - all foreign but stiff enough to denote a certain expectation for decorum, Takasugi leans over the back of his chair. Arms crossed on the top, chin perched on his wrists.

Like he's desperate to be perceived as relaxed.

The explanation doesn't phase him much. In part, because it's so fantastical it sounds fake. In another part because there had been tales of aliens coming to their planet recently - creatures that possessed strange capabilities. Lights from the heavens, destroying entire villages.

It doesn't sound too fake, after all.] So we're just supposed to live here?

[Without a foundation. Not so different from how he'd felt back home, but... somehow he feels disquieted. Sinks into himself, slightly.]

That's right.

[For being Takasugi's spawn, he catches on quick. Ha ha ha. Likely not an answer he wants to hear -- not something anyone wants to hear really. Being torn from home and forced to acclimate to a (decidedly obsolete, in some respects) foreign culture isn't the fairest trade of all, but he hasn't discovered a way to change things.

He also hasn't put much effort into it. Life goes on, bears shit in the woods.]

You're free to stay here for as long as you'd like.

[If he doesn't mind living with a landshark.]

Conforming to a new place can be difficult enough as it is.

[Not gonna talk about Takasugi SR living here as well.]

[Conforming.

Twisting his arm. Breaking the bone and reshaping it to be something hideous. Something that 'fits in' but isn't him. Not monstrous, in the way he'd be regarded if he went with the flow of everyone around him, but not himself.

He's too young to settle into being a beast, but there's nothing in its place.

Hollow. A feeling he's never free of, but rarely is it so glaring as now, when he's been left with nothing but himself in a strange new place.] What difficulties did you have?

[Searching. Earnest. His voice lacks any of the bite he'd possessed initially, and his posture has all but slouched - more deflated than comfortably draped.]

[There's a chuckle at that. What difficulties does he have? For the most part, as of late, it's all been superficial. Inconveniences, mild to significant. It's a state of being, more or less.

He's too young to understand, though he doesn't seem it.]

Isn't it obvious?

[Being taken from home and forced to restart -- a good place to begin without being complicated. Adults aren't meant to answer children's questions in such a way, however.]

Showing up here and mistaking one food for another, that's a difficulty.

[Something he inferred from earlier, because it's impossible to choke on gross cottage cheese.]

. under starless skies . closed

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im imagining this convo happening with baby solomon and baby solomon just crying the whole time

thats adorable

taka would beat him up

bully!

exactly

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