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XVIII: The Moon
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"I do this for your grandson; whose life was taken by a quicker bid behind the handgun."
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Dive headfirst into a pool full of knives.
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Sisyphean heartaches.
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Tears streamed down his face, glistening as they fell; caught in the warm sunset. Eddie had climbed the building twice. He stood perfectly still, staring out over the lesser buildings. Thankfully, the blood he had left behind was just out of his periphery. That's what scared him the most. "Ayúdame Dios," he whispered, closing his eyes to shut it out, "no soy un demonio..." He knew people were watching him, from adjacent windows. They were the ones who had called the police. Strange, though, that he couldn't hear sirens.
When his eyes closed, the images invaded. Albina's towel. Himself on the bathroom floor. Himself on the concrete, letting out a noise that couldn't possibly be human. Eddie Garcia shook, trembling from his stomach up to his shoulders; like he was caving in on himself. A new wave of tears were coming, demanding that he opened his eyes. He fought it; earning another image. What he had seen, or, rather, what he had seen through. It was the building he now stood on, painted with a ghostly brush. The walls were nothing more than a window and he had the instinct that he could simply move through, if he so wished.
Everything had been ethereal, his vision touched at the edges with a wriggling white. Maybe I died. Maybe this is Hell. His eyes opened. In front of him stretched the uneven knot of New Steel City. Old bricks and glass towers. Squalor defined the Bliss Haven cluster. His eyes dropped, his fingers curling. A stretch of gray, a splatter of red. Detritus pushed around by a wind he couldn't feel, even at the height he was standing. People hid in corners they thought he couldn't see; their phones raised to him. They probably already got their fucking shot of the blood. Of...of me climbing the building.
That was when the door opened behind him. His body tensed and was immediately torn apart. Eddie didn't hear a damn thing. Pain rushed through him, taking parts of his body with it. He was turning with the force of whatever hit him, hitting the ground; next to shards of bone and the splatter of his innards. Blood too stained what he could see, which was mostly boots. Strangely, though, his mind wasn't on them. Or the gurgling rasp of his bloody struggle for breath.
It smelled like her. I used it to mop up my blood...after that thing...
"Beta One, this is Alpha One," the guy sounded German, Eddie noted, "target is still alive, but incapacitated." A pause, another shifting of boots and the subtle scrapes of armor. "Yes ma'am. Understood. Regenerative properties seem to be lesser than other Subjects. We have time." Eddie tried to roll, but found that his body simply wouldn't comply. He felt hollow. His rasp became a nightmarish chuckle; crimson spraying with each heave.
I just wanna get out of here. I wanna see Albina again. I wanna get high.
How many there were was a mystery. One particular set of boots lingered closer than the rest. Probably the German guy It didn't matter. Eddie knew he was fucked. Whatever had hit him was strong and he'd bet that there were guns somewhere above those boots. Makes sense that they'd hit me with something hard. I jumped off a building twice and I'm still here. Something shifted, all the boots moving to linger on the edge of his vision. What's that, man? Some kind of box? "We're going to hit him with a dose. Once that's done, we take him back." He would've smiled, if his body weren't being rebellious. Sure, man, I'll take whatever you got. Just hit me with something good. There was a brief sound that he couldn't identify, a distant pain in his leg signifying that they weren't lying. Immediately, things began to feel heavy; the weight of the world pushing down on him in dull waves. The boots moved in unison, sliding the box toward him.
Is that a coffin? Oh, fuck.
When his eyes closed, the images invaded. Albina's towel. Himself on the bathroom floor. Himself on the concrete, letting out a noise that couldn't possibly be human. Eddie Garcia shook, trembling from his stomach up to his shoulders; like he was caving in on himself. A new wave of tears were coming, demanding that he opened his eyes. He fought it; earning another image. What he had seen, or, rather, what he had seen through. It was the building he now stood on, painted with a ghostly brush. The walls were nothing more than a window and he had the instinct that he could simply move through, if he so wished.
Everything had been ethereal, his vision touched at the edges with a wriggling white. Maybe I died. Maybe this is Hell. His eyes opened. In front of him stretched the uneven knot of New Steel City. Old bricks and glass towers. Squalor defined the Bliss Haven cluster. His eyes dropped, his fingers curling. A stretch of gray, a splatter of red. Detritus pushed around by a wind he couldn't feel, even at the height he was standing. People hid in corners they thought he couldn't see; their phones raised to him. They probably already got their fucking shot of the blood. Of...of me climbing the building.
That was when the door opened behind him. His body tensed and was immediately torn apart. Eddie didn't hear a damn thing. Pain rushed through him, taking parts of his body with it. He was turning with the force of whatever hit him, hitting the ground; next to shards of bone and the splatter of his innards. Blood too stained what he could see, which was mostly boots. Strangely, though, his mind wasn't on them. Or the gurgling rasp of his bloody struggle for breath.
It smelled like her. I used it to mop up my blood...after that thing...
"Beta One, this is Alpha One," the guy sounded German, Eddie noted, "target is still alive, but incapacitated." A pause, another shifting of boots and the subtle scrapes of armor. "Yes ma'am. Understood. Regenerative properties seem to be lesser than other Subjects. We have time." Eddie tried to roll, but found that his body simply wouldn't comply. He felt hollow. His rasp became a nightmarish chuckle; crimson spraying with each heave.
I just wanna get out of here. I wanna see Albina again. I wanna get high.
How many there were was a mystery. One particular set of boots lingered closer than the rest. Probably the German guy It didn't matter. Eddie knew he was fucked. Whatever had hit him was strong and he'd bet that there were guns somewhere above those boots. Makes sense that they'd hit me with something hard. I jumped off a building twice and I'm still here. Something shifted, all the boots moving to linger on the edge of his vision. What's that, man? Some kind of box? "We're going to hit him with a dose. Once that's done, we take him back." He would've smiled, if his body weren't being rebellious. Sure, man, I'll take whatever you got. Just hit me with something good. There was a brief sound that he couldn't identify, a distant pain in his leg signifying that they weren't lying. Immediately, things began to feel heavy; the weight of the world pushing down on him in dull waves. The boots moved in unison, sliding the box toward him.
Is that a coffin? Oh, fuck.
@KoLThe post requirement is three paragraphs. Anything beyond that is optional. The story itself is fluid and malleable, as there's a larger focus on Character interaction. You're free to do as you like! Opening a new facet of the setting is completely doable, as is creating your own plotline.
I can understand the 'intimidation factor'. However, I would very much like you to join in on the fun! Feel free to shoot me a PM if you'd like to discuss ideas! If you do feel very strongly about dropping, that's fine; no hard feelings!
I will say, however, as a general statement to everyone; the window for this RP (at least in terms of ideas and interactions) is always open!
I can understand the 'intimidation factor'. However, I would very much like you to join in on the fun! Feel free to shoot me a PM if you'd like to discuss ideas! If you do feel very strongly about dropping, that's fine; no hard feelings!
I will say, however, as a general statement to everyone; the window for this RP (at least in terms of ideas and interactions) is always open!
Ellie followed along to the detention room. It was not her first sojourn to that place. She even, somewhat, anticipated a return to it. Certainly, when news reached her parents, there would be disappointment, until she explained the situation. Then there would be understanding; perhaps approval and praise. A light smile touched on her otherwise somber countenance. I upheld my code. You must uphold yours. The thought was directed at the girl's back. The sword-wielder. "What is your name?" She had not thought to ask, until now, though they had been ushered to the nurse's office; afforded a fair amount of time, given that Ellie refused to be treated. My wounds are fairly earned, she remembered thinking.
Sword-girl turned her head, just enough to watch Ellie with her periphery; light from above catching on a crimson iris, spreading on it in a scythe's blade. "My name is Aurora Greenspan. I serve as commander of the Sixth Disciplinary Enforcement Squad." Having said that, she turned. She must be powerful, her title, alone, did not inspire that thought, to have the confidence to walk ahead of us. Usually, they follow along behind. Ellie looked to the row of lockers at her left, though that was not her true target. Seisil walked behind them.
Despite having his jaw fixed, he had not spoken to any of them. Ellie did, however, feel the scathing brush of his eyes against her back from time to time. He despises me. It's likely that he'll attempt to engage me, again, at some point. I should be prepared. Now that he knows of the Snapper, he'll attempt to formulate a way to defeat me. His face, pleasant to look at, was in a natural neutrality. Ellie couldn't look at him, for long. A knot formed in her stomach and her hands tightened when she did. If he does choose to continue down this path, I'll have to be more forceful. Her right hand twitched, at that; an involuntary action that made the girl pause, for a moment.
Osman whispered from her right, stopping with her. "Hey, you alright?" A quizzical noise escaped her, also muted in its delivery, along with a cocked eyebrow. Her new friend was all smiles, despite the situation. "It's just, y'know, you looked real serious for a second. Just making sure you're ok, champ," Ellie smiled softly and resumed her stride, wary of furthering Aurora Greenspan's ire. Osman hopped into motion alongside her, Seisil keeping his distance. "Just checking. I, uhm, if anything is ever up..." She kept her eyebrow high, hands sliding into her pockets, "You can talk to me."
"I'm fine, Osman," she kept her voice low, as well, "and I appreciate it. Thank you. If something comes up, I'll..." Ellie hesitated, casting her eyes ahead, "I'll talk to you." Her face flushed, a little. It was embarrassing, for some reason. Very few people had extended that offer to her. Most of them professional trainers; substitutes for when her father was otherwise occupied. I shouldn't take it lightly. Having someone my own age to talk to might be nice. Ahead of her, Aurora had slowed; her arms crossed and her stance again one of imperious command.
"This is where you will be spending the rest of your day," the Sixth Squad Commander pointed to a door at her left, eyes full of intensity boring into the three, "I will be filing a report on the incident. Your parents will be informed. Have a pleasant stay." Osman drew in a sharp breath, muttering with his head hanging low. Ellie remained stoic. Seisil seemed intent on doing the same. "Excellent," came Aurora's judgment, "I am glad you understand the situation. Proceed inside."
They did as bid, passing through the door only to be met by the verbose accusations of Miss Bowers. Aurora stared at the teacher for a moment, offering a slow nod and looking around over those confined in the room before departing. Osman sighed, scratching the back of his head. Seisil slid around them, eyes un-focused on the distance, taking an isolated seat. Another voice came from the teacher, followed by the transmogrification of withered-and-old to young-and-amused. Ellie understood, fairly quickly, but remained expressionless.
Ellie had seen Felicity Day, a few times, usually in this particular room, but it had never been prefaced by her being another person. "Excellent work." She offered that during the outburst of praise and chatter. Felicity ruffled Osman's hair, earning an embarassed blush and half of a protesting remark from him. "I wasn't aware that it was your Tablet Power." Ellie made a mental note of that, as she often did with those she encountered.
A boy called out, from the back, someone that Ellie didn't recognize. Judging by his vernacular, he seems like the 'laid-back' type of person. Osman smiled broadly, catching Ellie's eye. A quick look in the direction of the boy served as his nudge. She understood well enough. She began walking, Osman walking beside but slightly behind. "If you want to see a champ, man, she's right here," this time, he did nudge her, "her name's Ellie. She stepped in to help me out, today. Knocked Seisil, y'know, that guy over there, out in one punch." He pointed, for emphasis, at the pretty boy. Ellie's face flushed, and she lowered her head; taking a seat at their table, across from the boisterous duo. Osman slid into a seat next to her, beaming. "It was amazing." He seemed to remember something. "Oh, right, hahaha, my name's Osman!"
"Hello," she didn't want to go so far as to restate her name, "thank you for inviting us to sit with you." From across the room, she could again feel the caress of hateful eyes. Seisil. Observing me. Observing us. It's possible he'll target Osman, again. I should stay close to him. Part of her had already made that decision, figuring that the enthusiastic boy would be intent on becoming an actual friend to her. That wasn't an unwelcome thought.
However, she had something to attend to. This time, Aurora's presence wasn't a factor. She turned and met the boy's gaze evenly; her body immediately tensing. Waves of disdain practically distorted the air around him, despite his calm demeanor. Blue eyes, filled with chained wrath, bored into her. Her own stare, flat and a dull shade of brown held only defiance. Defiance of whatever oppression he planned wield against them. He may be dangerous. Neither of them blinked. Slowly, she looked away. Seisel did the same, just after she did.
She had opened her mouth, but an interruption came quickly. One of the boys moved away. Felicity moved to once more imitate Miss Bowers, beginning an eerily accurate imitation of a scathing lecture. The door opened and a relatively small boy was shoved into the room. Ellie bristled, but only slightly; watching the large Disciplinary Committee Member's brutish method of handling his peer. Her heart melted as the boy's expression slightly changed and a low whine came from him.
Sword-girl turned her head, just enough to watch Ellie with her periphery; light from above catching on a crimson iris, spreading on it in a scythe's blade. "My name is Aurora Greenspan. I serve as commander of the Sixth Disciplinary Enforcement Squad." Having said that, she turned. She must be powerful, her title, alone, did not inspire that thought, to have the confidence to walk ahead of us. Usually, they follow along behind. Ellie looked to the row of lockers at her left, though that was not her true target. Seisil walked behind them.
Despite having his jaw fixed, he had not spoken to any of them. Ellie did, however, feel the scathing brush of his eyes against her back from time to time. He despises me. It's likely that he'll attempt to engage me, again, at some point. I should be prepared. Now that he knows of the Snapper, he'll attempt to formulate a way to defeat me. His face, pleasant to look at, was in a natural neutrality. Ellie couldn't look at him, for long. A knot formed in her stomach and her hands tightened when she did. If he does choose to continue down this path, I'll have to be more forceful. Her right hand twitched, at that; an involuntary action that made the girl pause, for a moment.
Osman whispered from her right, stopping with her. "Hey, you alright?" A quizzical noise escaped her, also muted in its delivery, along with a cocked eyebrow. Her new friend was all smiles, despite the situation. "It's just, y'know, you looked real serious for a second. Just making sure you're ok, champ," Ellie smiled softly and resumed her stride, wary of furthering Aurora Greenspan's ire. Osman hopped into motion alongside her, Seisil keeping his distance. "Just checking. I, uhm, if anything is ever up..." She kept her eyebrow high, hands sliding into her pockets, "You can talk to me."
"I'm fine, Osman," she kept her voice low, as well, "and I appreciate it. Thank you. If something comes up, I'll..." Ellie hesitated, casting her eyes ahead, "I'll talk to you." Her face flushed, a little. It was embarrassing, for some reason. Very few people had extended that offer to her. Most of them professional trainers; substitutes for when her father was otherwise occupied. I shouldn't take it lightly. Having someone my own age to talk to might be nice. Ahead of her, Aurora had slowed; her arms crossed and her stance again one of imperious command.
"This is where you will be spending the rest of your day," the Sixth Squad Commander pointed to a door at her left, eyes full of intensity boring into the three, "I will be filing a report on the incident. Your parents will be informed. Have a pleasant stay." Osman drew in a sharp breath, muttering with his head hanging low. Ellie remained stoic. Seisil seemed intent on doing the same. "Excellent," came Aurora's judgment, "I am glad you understand the situation. Proceed inside."
They did as bid, passing through the door only to be met by the verbose accusations of Miss Bowers. Aurora stared at the teacher for a moment, offering a slow nod and looking around over those confined in the room before departing. Osman sighed, scratching the back of his head. Seisil slid around them, eyes un-focused on the distance, taking an isolated seat. Another voice came from the teacher, followed by the transmogrification of withered-and-old to young-and-amused. Ellie understood, fairly quickly, but remained expressionless.
Ellie had seen Felicity Day, a few times, usually in this particular room, but it had never been prefaced by her being another person. "Excellent work." She offered that during the outburst of praise and chatter. Felicity ruffled Osman's hair, earning an embarassed blush and half of a protesting remark from him. "I wasn't aware that it was your Tablet Power." Ellie made a mental note of that, as she often did with those she encountered.
A boy called out, from the back, someone that Ellie didn't recognize. Judging by his vernacular, he seems like the 'laid-back' type of person. Osman smiled broadly, catching Ellie's eye. A quick look in the direction of the boy served as his nudge. She understood well enough. She began walking, Osman walking beside but slightly behind. "If you want to see a champ, man, she's right here," this time, he did nudge her, "her name's Ellie. She stepped in to help me out, today. Knocked Seisil, y'know, that guy over there, out in one punch." He pointed, for emphasis, at the pretty boy. Ellie's face flushed, and she lowered her head; taking a seat at their table, across from the boisterous duo. Osman slid into a seat next to her, beaming. "It was amazing." He seemed to remember something. "Oh, right, hahaha, my name's Osman!"
"Hello," she didn't want to go so far as to restate her name, "thank you for inviting us to sit with you." From across the room, she could again feel the caress of hateful eyes. Seisil. Observing me. Observing us. It's possible he'll target Osman, again. I should stay close to him. Part of her had already made that decision, figuring that the enthusiastic boy would be intent on becoming an actual friend to her. That wasn't an unwelcome thought.
However, she had something to attend to. This time, Aurora's presence wasn't a factor. She turned and met the boy's gaze evenly; her body immediately tensing. Waves of disdain practically distorted the air around him, despite his calm demeanor. Blue eyes, filled with chained wrath, bored into her. Her own stare, flat and a dull shade of brown held only defiance. Defiance of whatever oppression he planned wield against them. He may be dangerous. Neither of them blinked. Slowly, she looked away. Seisel did the same, just after she did.
She had opened her mouth, but an interruption came quickly. One of the boys moved away. Felicity moved to once more imitate Miss Bowers, beginning an eerily accurate imitation of a scathing lecture. The door opened and a relatively small boy was shoved into the room. Ellie bristled, but only slightly; watching the large Disciplinary Committee Member's brutish method of handling his peer. Her heart melted as the boy's expression slightly changed and a low whine came from him.
@snake153 It was sent to those who hold a position on the Committee.
EDIT: If it makes things easier for you, I did have it stated that certain members (not specified to be of the Committee) of the MHC were contacted. Molly could be one of them.
EDIT: If it makes things easier for you, I did have it stated that certain members (not specified to be of the Committee) of the MHC were contacted. Molly could be one of them.
@snake153 That's about what it seems like. People are free to do whatever they like. Ellie is being sent to detention. I'm moving the Monster Hunter Club forward, because it is already rather crowded.
@Ghost Queen I would like the effect of Flashbang to be reduced to about 3 seconds. Other than that, James 2.0 looks fine. You can move him over, once that change is made.
Posted as Aito. If I messed up anywhere, let me know. I've not slept in two days, so I might've missed something.
@Ghost Queen I would like the effect of Flashbang to be reduced to about 3 seconds. Other than that, James 2.0 looks fine. You can move him over, once that change is made.
Posted as Aito. If I messed up anywhere, let me know. I've not slept in two days, so I might've missed something.
"Nah, nothing like 'hero work'," Aito's eyebrows were raised, slightly smiling at Vatalla, "but, hey, don't count me out of the 'suave international spy crew' until you've seen me in a snazzy suit." He pointed a finger upward as Vatalla talked about the pay. "Yeah, I guess that's a pretty good point. If you're not being paid, there's no reason for anyone to complain." He knew who she was talking about, but had kept himself as close to a 'neutral party' as possible in that conflict. A laugh, light as she offered a wink. He offered his own, in return. "Don't worry. I hate letting anyone down. I'll make sure the excitement keeps rolling in, for you, though." Aito shrugged his shoulders, leaving it at that; immediately back to business. "Yeah, maybe, Cannon keeps saying that it's just an investigation. I have a weird feeling about all of this."
His eye drifted from her, watching George as he made his exit. "For sure, Jojo; the crate will stay where it is, promise. Just meet up with me after classes are over," then his eye narrowed, watching her wipe up part of the trail she'd left, "and an ego fits a guy like me about as well a dress suits a girl like you." Then a soft smile. A crash, forcing his smile to falter. Bet that hurt. Damn. It was fine, though, George was tough; Aito knew that well enough.
It was about that time that two knocks rang out, a boy walking in; his expression stoic. Aito watched his eyes, for a moment. Then he turned his attention to the flyer. His heart dropped. "Aw, man, I thought we got all of those things," the situation was one that had been engineered by Cannon; the removal of the posters intended to also remove the overflow of potential candidates for their club, "looks like you lucked out. We missed one." He smiled warmly, pointing to the table. "Take a seat. What's your name?" While this was outside the bounds of his authority, Aito was still interested. The boy was slight, but held an air that Aito approved of. "Usually this kind of thing is handled by Cannon. Uh, she's our 'president' or whatever. I'm Aito Mitsui, third chair. Since she's absent, decisions are supposed be handled by the next link in the chain. As you can see, I'm the only one here. Vatalla doesn't count, she's not an official member." He left off the 'yet' part of that statement; knowing that it could be lead to a volatile conversation.
Then came two more, as he was about to speak, the door opening without a knock. He smiled, slightly, though there was tension in it. His eye moved from the first boy to the second, then to the girl. The second boy started to speak, but faltered. Aito immediately saw the dynamic between them, just before the girl stepped forward to confirm his conjecture. He listened, fully, instead of interjection. "No problem Red, Yoshi." He glanced to Vatalla, exasperation barely hidden; then back to those who had quickly gathered."The Monster Hunter Club hunts Monsters. Ranks are determined by our as-of-now absent leader. Cannon. Man, I'm getting tired of saying her name." A small laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. "Most of the club is absent. I'm the only member here, so I'll be handling your interviews." His eye drifted to a clock on the wall. Ten minutes can be an eternity. Then he looked to the first boy. "Sorry for the interruption, man. I'll handle your interview in a sec."
He took his feet from the table and let the chair return to its normal position. Aito stood, arms still crossed; moving around the table to stand at Cannon's spot, looking out over the potential he thought he saw. Vatalla spoke up, drawing his attention to her. "Seriously. I just came here because I had to. She's right, though, detention blows. Try to avoid it, if you can-" The bell rang, his eye squinting as though he'd been struck. "Ouch. Well, I guess if that's the case you guys can go ahead and come with us. We can handle interviews on the way." He pointed to the first boy, "You're up first, since you were here first. I might be able to keep you guys out of trouble, if we run into any staff members on the third floor." He didn't have much sway, but Aito could usually talk his way out of those situations.
"Nah, I won't send them back. If they've got the guts and grit, who am I to turn them down?" A tap on his shoulder followed the words, a more relaxed smile fixed on his face. "For sure, Valla. Let's do our best, yeah?" His voice had been lowered, but when his eye fell back on the three rookies; Aito would speak with more volume. He considered them for a moment, the sound of Vatalla's scribbling filling the silence. Sorry, Valla, I was hoping we would get to hang; at least a little. Really, Aito was stalling. Gears turned in his mind, driving him to commit to a decision that most others in the club would disapprove of.
Without announcement, he moved around the room; tapping Vatalla's right shoulder as he passed by, hoping the old trick would work. Aito Mitsui was all smiles, now. Toward the door, leaning against it; still facing them.
"Let's get going. You guys can tell me about yourselves on the way. I want Class information, mostly. This is a club based around the idea of fighting Monsters. Sometimes Monsters are stronger than us. I want to know how you work, so don't skimp on the details."
The stairway to the third floor wasn't far away, but he didn't plan to ask any questions until they were beyond it. Instead, he would speak of himself. Pristine hallways greeted them, fluorescent lights and rows of lockers; windows into class and club rooms.
"In case you didn't catch it, my name's Aito Mitsui. I'm a 'Displacer', custom Class. I'm a combat medic, essentially. I heal and protect my Allies...and I can take a hit, or two. I don't use a weapon, because I've never had need for one," his back was turned to them, his eye on the stairway, "My Tablet Power creates explosive clone items. It's, uh, kind of dangerous." Aito felt odd, summarizing himself so simply; but he had an idea. "Vatalla is a freelance hunter, and a pretty good one. You want to tell them about your Class?" He wouldn't press about her, if she declined. Still, he gave her a smile as they reached the stairway.
His eye drifted from her, watching George as he made his exit. "For sure, Jojo; the crate will stay where it is, promise. Just meet up with me after classes are over," then his eye narrowed, watching her wipe up part of the trail she'd left, "and an ego fits a guy like me about as well a dress suits a girl like you." Then a soft smile. A crash, forcing his smile to falter. Bet that hurt. Damn. It was fine, though, George was tough; Aito knew that well enough.
It was about that time that two knocks rang out, a boy walking in; his expression stoic. Aito watched his eyes, for a moment. Then he turned his attention to the flyer. His heart dropped. "Aw, man, I thought we got all of those things," the situation was one that had been engineered by Cannon; the removal of the posters intended to also remove the overflow of potential candidates for their club, "looks like you lucked out. We missed one." He smiled warmly, pointing to the table. "Take a seat. What's your name?" While this was outside the bounds of his authority, Aito was still interested. The boy was slight, but held an air that Aito approved of. "Usually this kind of thing is handled by Cannon. Uh, she's our 'president' or whatever. I'm Aito Mitsui, third chair. Since she's absent, decisions are supposed be handled by the next link in the chain. As you can see, I'm the only one here. Vatalla doesn't count, she's not an official member." He left off the 'yet' part of that statement; knowing that it could be lead to a volatile conversation.
Then came two more, as he was about to speak, the door opening without a knock. He smiled, slightly, though there was tension in it. His eye moved from the first boy to the second, then to the girl. The second boy started to speak, but faltered. Aito immediately saw the dynamic between them, just before the girl stepped forward to confirm his conjecture. He listened, fully, instead of interjection. "No problem Red, Yoshi." He glanced to Vatalla, exasperation barely hidden; then back to those who had quickly gathered."The Monster Hunter Club hunts Monsters. Ranks are determined by our as-of-now absent leader. Cannon. Man, I'm getting tired of saying her name." A small laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. "Most of the club is absent. I'm the only member here, so I'll be handling your interviews." His eye drifted to a clock on the wall. Ten minutes can be an eternity. Then he looked to the first boy. "Sorry for the interruption, man. I'll handle your interview in a sec."
He took his feet from the table and let the chair return to its normal position. Aito stood, arms still crossed; moving around the table to stand at Cannon's spot, looking out over the potential he thought he saw. Vatalla spoke up, drawing his attention to her. "Seriously. I just came here because I had to. She's right, though, detention blows. Try to avoid it, if you can-" The bell rang, his eye squinting as though he'd been struck. "Ouch. Well, I guess if that's the case you guys can go ahead and come with us. We can handle interviews on the way." He pointed to the first boy, "You're up first, since you were here first. I might be able to keep you guys out of trouble, if we run into any staff members on the third floor." He didn't have much sway, but Aito could usually talk his way out of those situations.
"Nah, I won't send them back. If they've got the guts and grit, who am I to turn them down?" A tap on his shoulder followed the words, a more relaxed smile fixed on his face. "For sure, Valla. Let's do our best, yeah?" His voice had been lowered, but when his eye fell back on the three rookies; Aito would speak with more volume. He considered them for a moment, the sound of Vatalla's scribbling filling the silence. Sorry, Valla, I was hoping we would get to hang; at least a little. Really, Aito was stalling. Gears turned in his mind, driving him to commit to a decision that most others in the club would disapprove of.
Without announcement, he moved around the room; tapping Vatalla's right shoulder as he passed by, hoping the old trick would work. Aito Mitsui was all smiles, now. Toward the door, leaning against it; still facing them.
"Let's get going. You guys can tell me about yourselves on the way. I want Class information, mostly. This is a club based around the idea of fighting Monsters. Sometimes Monsters are stronger than us. I want to know how you work, so don't skimp on the details."
The stairway to the third floor wasn't far away, but he didn't plan to ask any questions until they were beyond it. Instead, he would speak of himself. Pristine hallways greeted them, fluorescent lights and rows of lockers; windows into class and club rooms.
"In case you didn't catch it, my name's Aito Mitsui. I'm a 'Displacer', custom Class. I'm a combat medic, essentially. I heal and protect my Allies...and I can take a hit, or two. I don't use a weapon, because I've never had need for one," his back was turned to them, his eye on the stairway, "My Tablet Power creates explosive clone items. It's, uh, kind of dangerous." Aito felt odd, summarizing himself so simply; but he had an idea. "Vatalla is a freelance hunter, and a pretty good one. You want to tell them about your Class?" He wouldn't press about her, if she declined. Still, he gave her a smile as they reached the stairway.
@MordecaiThe 1st Pshahaha. It's fine, I'll give you some small pointers; as we progress. I like it, not bad for a first post!
@Migyudon I'll approve her. I'm a little wary about the car-throwing capacity and overall Skill buff from Overdrive. I'll be watching In-Character stuff.
@shylarah Lee looks good! Approved! You can move her to the Character Tab!
@Tracyarmav Hello, there! Sorry I didn't say this earlier!
@Tracyarmav Hello, there! Sorry I didn't say this earlier!
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