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tenipuri_xpDate: Backdated to Thursday 11/03
Rating: G *dies* Somehow
Summary: Ryoga meets with Niou to obtain information on Ryoma; Niou is rightfully wary of Ryoga. I worry at how much time Ryoga spends laughing.
It was getting to be almost the time he had designated with that nameless guy when Ryoga finally made his way out into the yard where he had promised to meet. It was already dark; as fall wore away into winter, it was growing dark earlier and earlier. It was annoying. Ryoga preferred the sunlight and the warmth of the spring and summer when he could still get out and play baseball, though he was yet to encounter anyone here that would even know the sport if a bat was thrown at their head… he had found a couple people he would gladly take out with a bat, however.
Yawning lazily, he settled at the base of a tree, pulling at the bill of his ball cap so it sat at an angle on his head, his other hand settling over his knee, his fingers drumming impatiently. He never had been particularly good at the waiting thing – even if it was only just barely seven in the evening. He also had never been particularly good at staying in one place for any extended period of time – he had once had another mutant try to convince him it had something to do with the energy field his body produced… he liked to think it was just human nature… or super-human nature.
Finally, after an eternity of a handful of minutes, he spotted a boy of about his own build with silver hair and a pleasant expression – it was probably that nameless guy. Standing, Ryoga walked toward the other mutant, well aware of the fact that the other was a mutant just from the way he could feel the other’s power creeping over his skin – though he could not be certain what this Niou guy did until he saw it in action.
Like his father, Ryoga’s voice was just a little nasal; it could be grating on the nerves… though, if he really wanted, he could just mimic another voice, instead. He could even be no name, here, if he wanted. “No name, is it?” The collar of his shirt caught a little in the evening breeze – it was perhaps too cold for how he was dressed, but he was not used to living in a more temperate climate; he would have to go shopping for clothes, at some point. He would wait until he saw snow – if ever – before getting a winter coat, though.
“Niou Masaharu, if you please,” the phaser said in perfect English, bowing formally in the old European fashion. He’d had a lot of practice on the basic phrases, so his accent was very nearly gone – listening to Ryoma and his own attention to detail made sure of that. Though it took more concentration than he was willing to admit. It was worse than mimicking a voice, though one mightn’t have thought so.
Still, he smiled, but eyes watched the other with an unconcealed wariness: “Mister Echizen Ryoga.”
With a sharp bark of laughter, Ryoga gave a small, informal bow in return, though his eyes never left the other mutant; he was looking for the sort of details that Niou himself would probably not notice -- the way the other mutant put just a bit more weight on one foot than the other when he stood... either one leg was just slightly longer than the other, or he was relaxed. From the other boy's posture, Ryoga's guess was that it was not the latter, though his attention quickly snapped away as he lazily drawled out, "Ryoga's fine. I'm not used to this last name thing."
Though he was wildly curious about the silver-haired boy's powers (and more importantly, if he could duplicate their effect), his first priority, naturally, was to ask after his brother. "I appreciate you giving me a moment of your time, Niou." He did -- really. Ryoga was not the sort to be ungrateful or brash; he was actually quite well-mannered when people treated him with the same respect. In that same spirit, he cut right to the chase -- no need to dance around the topic. "You and that Yagyuu guy seem to have both caught on to me -- I'm looking for my brother, and I suspect he's at
that school of yours."
“What do you want with him?” Niou asked, reverting back to Japanese to ensure his tone remained perfectly cordial. He shifted feet to roll a small pebble under his toe (still refusing to wear those goddamned school shoes unless he was actively Yagyuu – speaking of which, he was also randomly amused to hear the morpher and Ryoma being mentioned in the same sentence).
It figured, really. He looked like the teddycat, just a little older. Acted like him, just a little more coolly civil. Most of all, their eyes were the same, but for Ryoga’s hazel tint.
Cocking his head back just slightly, eyes drifting upward to focus on the branches of trees that seemed to trail off into the night sky, Ryoga pondered a moment how to answer. What did he want with Ryoma? That was simple. He wanted to find out what it was about Ryoma... what that thing was... so he could crush it; crush him. The forgotten son complex, perhaps, he considered with a snerk -- it was like a plot straight out of Shakespeare... he was beginning to fancy himself rather like Edmund of King Lear... which reminded him of that orange-haired ninja.
Having looped away from the thought entirely, he raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, his gaze returning steadily to Niou's eyes. Nice eyes. Nice hair. Verging on pretty rather than handsome. He wondered just how well no name knew Ryoma. "It's been a very long time since I've seen my younger brother -- we weren't raised under the same roof." Or even in the same country, for a majority of the time, for that matter. "I've gone to great lengths to find him. The sleezy old pervert wouldn't help me if I asked -- not that I know how to get in touch with him or my mother, anyway."
The wind was grabbing at the bill of his hat, attempting to pluck it from his head -- Ryoga mashed the hat down with one hand on his head and continued, "He was pretty young, then. He might not even remember me – or that he had a brother." He would not put it past his parents to hide that particular fact from Ryoma as they had already gone so far as to remove their younger son from their older son's life entirely.
That made sense. And, as far as appearances went, it held true. But anyone could make up one of those, Niou half-chuckled to himself. Identities were like the wind, but cheaper. There was still something in those too-deep eyes that Niou didn’t trust, but he didn’t show it, sitting down to recline almost delicately on locked arms.
Ryoga had no visible physical mutation, and neither did he have the kind of edgy… feeling the phaser’d come to recognise from energy mutations such as Otori and Kirihara’s. As long as they faced, no matter how open, Niou was confident he would be fine, and the surety translated into a projection of trust as he looked up, body language fully open.
It was basic policy to keep your friends close and enemies closer, after all.
“Your old man is the groundskeep,” he said at last, toying with a tuft of grass. “Your mother I haven’t seen; your brother I know well enough. What further specifics you want may be asked for.”
Just because he was open didn’t necessarily mean he was going to be easy.
Any feeling of elation or accomplishment that Ryoga was feeling was swallowed nicely by his casual, cool smile and sparkling, dark eyes. He admired Niou -- admired him as one would admire a piece of art; taking in not just the light, but the shadows -- the curves and subtle shifts of hair and clothing in the breeze. He admired this person who had confirmed to him that he was near his target. Once again, he found himself wondering what it was, exactly, his fair-haired companion was capable of; if it was going to be a power he would have to learn to combat... if this admirable person
would stand between him and Ryoma.
If Nanjiroh was near, he could also cause problems -- Ryoga, of course, was aware of his father's mutation. He was aware that the gene ran particularly strong in his family -- it was how he had been so certain he would find Ryoma here, of all places. The old man was none of his present concern; for now he found himself fixated on what his brother could possibly be like after all this time -- was he still the stand-offish brat he had been as a small child? Did he resemble his brother? What were his hobbies? Who were his friends?
All of these questions buzzing about, Ryoga asked the one that made the most sense to him. "What's his power? When I last saw him, he was... almost glowing with something, but I was not around long enough to know what. My guess is that his mutation is not entirely different from mine."
Well, that was a relative statement if Niou’d ever heard any. “Of course that depends on what you do in the first place..?” he said, intonation pitched for a counter-question. He hadn’t missed the way Ryoga’s eyes looked with the air of a hawk; confirmation to his hunches would be good before going any further.
Ch. Answering a question with a question. But, if Niou wanted to play hardball, Ryoga would let him and be polite about it; it was not as though his powers were going to be any less what they were whether no name here knew what they were or not. Mustering up the energy field around himself (faint, until then, to change the color of his eyes) he shifted his eyes to match the same golden-brown as his companion, his hair growing and shifting to match the mused silver down to the ponytail and the thin band that held it in place. His skin paled a couple shades until it matched Niou’s – their build was close enough that except for the clothing and the hat, Ryoga could have been mistaken for the boy in front of him.
“I mimic other people,” responded Ryoga in Niou’s voice… it would not be absolutely perfect, as he could only copy exactly words he had heard before, and guess based on observation how the person would pronounce words he had yet to hear. The hair was hard to maintain – he was still having trouble with larger-scale physical guises. Abruptly, Ryoga dropped the mask, going back to his own voice and appearance, but for his eyes that remained mocked hazel. “Still needs some work, as you can see.” Anyone who knew this boy in front of him intimately would have been able to see the difference, most likely, but he hoped to work on that – he hoped to get to the point where that would not be the case.
Taxing as the display of his powers was (and as he was still exhausted from the long trip), he let out a small yawn, covering his mouth in an attempt to not be rude. It was much harder for him to mimic physical manifestations than energy. “I don’t know what the geezer does, either. Something annoying, doubtlessly.” With half a shrug, he, too, settled on the ground, sitting beside Niou; leaning back against his hands.
...very, very interesting. Though Niou still didn't trust Ryoga – and now that his powers had come to light, it only served to distance that, instead of bridging the gap like it perhaps should've. Who knew what a guy like him could pretend to be, right? Long lost brother or whatever the hell. (Though it looked like the handle on his powers wasn’t so crash hot – fact which Niou was never going to admit made him feel slightly more at ease.)
He wasn't going to say Ryoma thought he was an only child, and that Nanjirou hadn’t made any mention. Ryoga’s story made enough sense to be involved, but not enough to interfere.
But all the same, he didn’t bother to hide the smile creeping up on his face. Now that the yardstick was set, well: relative to Ryoga, Ryoma’s power wasn’t entirely different. The phaser cleared his throat. “…don’t know about the geezer’s abilitites either,” he said, mimicking Ryoga’s voice himself in return. “But Ryoma’s power are like yours, only less, shall we say… fake?”
Ryoga laughed, a touch of madness in his voice. This guy was fascinating -- and so wonderfully careful about what he said; smart -- not reckless. Very smart. "How interesting. Chibisuke is some sort of morph?" He, himself, had not realized he used the nickname -- one that he had always addressed Ryoma as many years ago, and normally would not use when speaking with another person. This non-reckless person could think what he wished of it.
Still grinning like a loon, Ryoga nodded to Niou. "You've been very helpful, Niou," he said in English, "Thank you." Standing once more -- sitting was such a bore -- he shoved his hands into his pockets, and tilted his head to the other mutant. Curiously, he inquired once again in Japanese, "What is it you do, then?"
“Oh, nothing so interesting as you, my friend.” Niou laughed in return, making light as he was wont. Fanning his left hand with a flourish, three sharp silver barrels suddenly appeared, gripped between his fingers by sleight of hand. Tossing one into the air, eyes above and head tipped back as if to catch a falling snowflake, he only had to adjust a half-step right to swallow the dart whole as it came back to earth.
The brief tickle shooting straight down through his body came to rest at his right foot and Niou knew he’d done it perfectly this time. Keeping said limb carefully intangible, he took a performer’s bow. And in English again: “You’re most welcome, by the way <3”
Once again, nearly villainous cackling tore out of Ryoga's lips, his head thrown back in appreciation. “What a wonderful parlor trick,” he managed between bursts of laughter. “Either you can make objects intangible, or you yourself are able to phase, am I right?” Though it was a question, he spoke it like a statement – he was certain he was correct. It was not that he was able to guess all this from observation alone – it was just not the first time he had seen such a display of powers. It was, unfortunately, not a power he could mimic – how disappointing. Niou would just have to miss out on that particular side of Ryoga’s talents.
The elder Echizen sibling rocked from toe to heel, working out pent-up energy; he did not like being this close to still for this long. Besides, the cold air was making itself known, raising goose bumps on his arms. Was the nameless guy impervious to cold, or something? Whatever. His hands still in his pockets, he took a couple steps closer staring carefully at Niou’s eyes. “Looks like I got it wrong. Your right eye is a bit darker – when you look from here.”
With another short laugh, Ryoga turned from Niou. “Have a nice stay,” he said, once again speaking in English. “Come visit any time.” With that he wandered away toward the dorms once more, snagging the orange that he had been keeping in his pocket and tossing it in the air as he walked. Interesting guy, no name – careful, close to Ryoma… He would be handy… even if he did trust Ryoga about as far as he could throw him. Wise, that Niou.
And the phaser chuckled in return.
“Count on it.”
Rating: G *dies* Somehow
Summary: Ryoga meets with Niou to obtain information on Ryoma; Niou is rightfully wary of Ryoga. I worry at how much time Ryoga spends laughing.
It was getting to be almost the time he had designated with that nameless guy when Ryoga finally made his way out into the yard where he had promised to meet. It was already dark; as fall wore away into winter, it was growing dark earlier and earlier. It was annoying. Ryoga preferred the sunlight and the warmth of the spring and summer when he could still get out and play baseball, though he was yet to encounter anyone here that would even know the sport if a bat was thrown at their head… he had found a couple people he would gladly take out with a bat, however.
Yawning lazily, he settled at the base of a tree, pulling at the bill of his ball cap so it sat at an angle on his head, his other hand settling over his knee, his fingers drumming impatiently. He never had been particularly good at the waiting thing – even if it was only just barely seven in the evening. He also had never been particularly good at staying in one place for any extended period of time – he had once had another mutant try to convince him it had something to do with the energy field his body produced… he liked to think it was just human nature… or super-human nature.
Finally, after an eternity of a handful of minutes, he spotted a boy of about his own build with silver hair and a pleasant expression – it was probably that nameless guy. Standing, Ryoga walked toward the other mutant, well aware of the fact that the other was a mutant just from the way he could feel the other’s power creeping over his skin – though he could not be certain what this Niou guy did until he saw it in action.
Like his father, Ryoga’s voice was just a little nasal; it could be grating on the nerves… though, if he really wanted, he could just mimic another voice, instead. He could even be no name, here, if he wanted. “No name, is it?” The collar of his shirt caught a little in the evening breeze – it was perhaps too cold for how he was dressed, but he was not used to living in a more temperate climate; he would have to go shopping for clothes, at some point. He would wait until he saw snow – if ever – before getting a winter coat, though.
“Niou Masaharu, if you please,” the phaser said in perfect English, bowing formally in the old European fashion. He’d had a lot of practice on the basic phrases, so his accent was very nearly gone – listening to Ryoma and his own attention to detail made sure of that. Though it took more concentration than he was willing to admit. It was worse than mimicking a voice, though one mightn’t have thought so.
Still, he smiled, but eyes watched the other with an unconcealed wariness: “Mister Echizen Ryoga.”
With a sharp bark of laughter, Ryoga gave a small, informal bow in return, though his eyes never left the other mutant; he was looking for the sort of details that Niou himself would probably not notice -- the way the other mutant put just a bit more weight on one foot than the other when he stood... either one leg was just slightly longer than the other, or he was relaxed. From the other boy's posture, Ryoga's guess was that it was not the latter, though his attention quickly snapped away as he lazily drawled out, "Ryoga's fine. I'm not used to this last name thing."
Though he was wildly curious about the silver-haired boy's powers (and more importantly, if he could duplicate their effect), his first priority, naturally, was to ask after his brother. "I appreciate you giving me a moment of your time, Niou." He did -- really. Ryoga was not the sort to be ungrateful or brash; he was actually quite well-mannered when people treated him with the same respect. In that same spirit, he cut right to the chase -- no need to dance around the topic. "You and that Yagyuu guy seem to have both caught on to me -- I'm looking for my brother, and I suspect he's at
that school of yours."
“What do you want with him?” Niou asked, reverting back to Japanese to ensure his tone remained perfectly cordial. He shifted feet to roll a small pebble under his toe (still refusing to wear those goddamned school shoes unless he was actively Yagyuu – speaking of which, he was also randomly amused to hear the morpher and Ryoma being mentioned in the same sentence).
It figured, really. He looked like the teddycat, just a little older. Acted like him, just a little more coolly civil. Most of all, their eyes were the same, but for Ryoga’s hazel tint.
Cocking his head back just slightly, eyes drifting upward to focus on the branches of trees that seemed to trail off into the night sky, Ryoga pondered a moment how to answer. What did he want with Ryoma? That was simple. He wanted to find out what it was about Ryoma... what that thing was... so he could crush it; crush him. The forgotten son complex, perhaps, he considered with a snerk -- it was like a plot straight out of Shakespeare... he was beginning to fancy himself rather like Edmund of King Lear... which reminded him of that orange-haired ninja.
Having looped away from the thought entirely, he raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, his gaze returning steadily to Niou's eyes. Nice eyes. Nice hair. Verging on pretty rather than handsome. He wondered just how well no name knew Ryoma. "It's been a very long time since I've seen my younger brother -- we weren't raised under the same roof." Or even in the same country, for a majority of the time, for that matter. "I've gone to great lengths to find him. The sleezy old pervert wouldn't help me if I asked -- not that I know how to get in touch with him or my mother, anyway."
The wind was grabbing at the bill of his hat, attempting to pluck it from his head -- Ryoga mashed the hat down with one hand on his head and continued, "He was pretty young, then. He might not even remember me – or that he had a brother." He would not put it past his parents to hide that particular fact from Ryoma as they had already gone so far as to remove their younger son from their older son's life entirely.
That made sense. And, as far as appearances went, it held true. But anyone could make up one of those, Niou half-chuckled to himself. Identities were like the wind, but cheaper. There was still something in those too-deep eyes that Niou didn’t trust, but he didn’t show it, sitting down to recline almost delicately on locked arms.
Ryoga had no visible physical mutation, and neither did he have the kind of edgy… feeling the phaser’d come to recognise from energy mutations such as Otori and Kirihara’s. As long as they faced, no matter how open, Niou was confident he would be fine, and the surety translated into a projection of trust as he looked up, body language fully open.
It was basic policy to keep your friends close and enemies closer, after all.
“Your old man is the groundskeep,” he said at last, toying with a tuft of grass. “Your mother I haven’t seen; your brother I know well enough. What further specifics you want may be asked for.”
Just because he was open didn’t necessarily mean he was going to be easy.
Any feeling of elation or accomplishment that Ryoga was feeling was swallowed nicely by his casual, cool smile and sparkling, dark eyes. He admired Niou -- admired him as one would admire a piece of art; taking in not just the light, but the shadows -- the curves and subtle shifts of hair and clothing in the breeze. He admired this person who had confirmed to him that he was near his target. Once again, he found himself wondering what it was, exactly, his fair-haired companion was capable of; if it was going to be a power he would have to learn to combat... if this admirable person
would stand between him and Ryoma.
If Nanjiroh was near, he could also cause problems -- Ryoga, of course, was aware of his father's mutation. He was aware that the gene ran particularly strong in his family -- it was how he had been so certain he would find Ryoma here, of all places. The old man was none of his present concern; for now he found himself fixated on what his brother could possibly be like after all this time -- was he still the stand-offish brat he had been as a small child? Did he resemble his brother? What were his hobbies? Who were his friends?
All of these questions buzzing about, Ryoga asked the one that made the most sense to him. "What's his power? When I last saw him, he was... almost glowing with something, but I was not around long enough to know what. My guess is that his mutation is not entirely different from mine."
Well, that was a relative statement if Niou’d ever heard any. “Of course that depends on what you do in the first place..?” he said, intonation pitched for a counter-question. He hadn’t missed the way Ryoga’s eyes looked with the air of a hawk; confirmation to his hunches would be good before going any further.
Ch. Answering a question with a question. But, if Niou wanted to play hardball, Ryoga would let him and be polite about it; it was not as though his powers were going to be any less what they were whether no name here knew what they were or not. Mustering up the energy field around himself (faint, until then, to change the color of his eyes) he shifted his eyes to match the same golden-brown as his companion, his hair growing and shifting to match the mused silver down to the ponytail and the thin band that held it in place. His skin paled a couple shades until it matched Niou’s – their build was close enough that except for the clothing and the hat, Ryoga could have been mistaken for the boy in front of him.
“I mimic other people,” responded Ryoga in Niou’s voice… it would not be absolutely perfect, as he could only copy exactly words he had heard before, and guess based on observation how the person would pronounce words he had yet to hear. The hair was hard to maintain – he was still having trouble with larger-scale physical guises. Abruptly, Ryoga dropped the mask, going back to his own voice and appearance, but for his eyes that remained mocked hazel. “Still needs some work, as you can see.” Anyone who knew this boy in front of him intimately would have been able to see the difference, most likely, but he hoped to work on that – he hoped to get to the point where that would not be the case.
Taxing as the display of his powers was (and as he was still exhausted from the long trip), he let out a small yawn, covering his mouth in an attempt to not be rude. It was much harder for him to mimic physical manifestations than energy. “I don’t know what the geezer does, either. Something annoying, doubtlessly.” With half a shrug, he, too, settled on the ground, sitting beside Niou; leaning back against his hands.
...very, very interesting. Though Niou still didn't trust Ryoga – and now that his powers had come to light, it only served to distance that, instead of bridging the gap like it perhaps should've. Who knew what a guy like him could pretend to be, right? Long lost brother or whatever the hell. (Though it looked like the handle on his powers wasn’t so crash hot – fact which Niou was never going to admit made him feel slightly more at ease.)
He wasn't going to say Ryoma thought he was an only child, and that Nanjirou hadn’t made any mention. Ryoga’s story made enough sense to be involved, but not enough to interfere.
But all the same, he didn’t bother to hide the smile creeping up on his face. Now that the yardstick was set, well: relative to Ryoga, Ryoma’s power wasn’t entirely different. The phaser cleared his throat. “…don’t know about the geezer’s abilitites either,” he said, mimicking Ryoga’s voice himself in return. “But Ryoma’s power are like yours, only less, shall we say… fake?”
Ryoga laughed, a touch of madness in his voice. This guy was fascinating -- and so wonderfully careful about what he said; smart -- not reckless. Very smart. "How interesting. Chibisuke is some sort of morph?" He, himself, had not realized he used the nickname -- one that he had always addressed Ryoma as many years ago, and normally would not use when speaking with another person. This non-reckless person could think what he wished of it.
Still grinning like a loon, Ryoga nodded to Niou. "You've been very helpful, Niou," he said in English, "Thank you." Standing once more -- sitting was such a bore -- he shoved his hands into his pockets, and tilted his head to the other mutant. Curiously, he inquired once again in Japanese, "What is it you do, then?"
“Oh, nothing so interesting as you, my friend.” Niou laughed in return, making light as he was wont. Fanning his left hand with a flourish, three sharp silver barrels suddenly appeared, gripped between his fingers by sleight of hand. Tossing one into the air, eyes above and head tipped back as if to catch a falling snowflake, he only had to adjust a half-step right to swallow the dart whole as it came back to earth.
The brief tickle shooting straight down through his body came to rest at his right foot and Niou knew he’d done it perfectly this time. Keeping said limb carefully intangible, he took a performer’s bow. And in English again: “You’re most welcome, by the way <3”
Once again, nearly villainous cackling tore out of Ryoga's lips, his head thrown back in appreciation. “What a wonderful parlor trick,” he managed between bursts of laughter. “Either you can make objects intangible, or you yourself are able to phase, am I right?” Though it was a question, he spoke it like a statement – he was certain he was correct. It was not that he was able to guess all this from observation alone – it was just not the first time he had seen such a display of powers. It was, unfortunately, not a power he could mimic – how disappointing. Niou would just have to miss out on that particular side of Ryoga’s talents.
The elder Echizen sibling rocked from toe to heel, working out pent-up energy; he did not like being this close to still for this long. Besides, the cold air was making itself known, raising goose bumps on his arms. Was the nameless guy impervious to cold, or something? Whatever. His hands still in his pockets, he took a couple steps closer staring carefully at Niou’s eyes. “Looks like I got it wrong. Your right eye is a bit darker – when you look from here.”
With another short laugh, Ryoga turned from Niou. “Have a nice stay,” he said, once again speaking in English. “Come visit any time.” With that he wandered away toward the dorms once more, snagging the orange that he had been keeping in his pocket and tossing it in the air as he walked. Interesting guy, no name – careful, close to Ryoma… He would be handy… even if he did trust Ryoga about as far as he could throw him. Wise, that Niou.
And the phaser chuckled in return.
“Count on it.”
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Date: 2005-11-06 04:15 pm (UTC)in every sense of the word. XD And: I'm amused by your 'current music' <3no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 04:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 08:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-06 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2005-11-07 12:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:28 am (UTC)Hi. :D
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Date: 2005-11-07 01:39 am (UTC)Hi. *pats*
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Date: 2005-11-07 01:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:32 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 01:40 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-11-07 05:23 am (UTC)It's so true.Also: Keywords: rikkai // obligatory godzilla icon = <3 <3 <3
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Date: 2005-11-07 05:43 am (UTC)