Participants:
Scene Title | Strange New World |
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Synopsis | One traveler spends a few weeks in Japanese custody before making his escape. Welcome to a new world, Miles! |
Date | January 13, 2019 |
Hands folded before him, arms resting on the table, Nagano Genki reviews the opened manila file before him. To him, it's almost like this is all routine. His posture is slumped, almost casual, but there's an intensity hiding in his otherwise sleepy expression. "So you… appeared…" Time is bided by drawing the sound out while he searches the information before him. "In Shikotan, causing damage. To a … ichimangosen-sai no …"
Ugh. Numbers. The dark-eyed intelligence agent furrows his brow. He hates speaking English. There's a translator standing in the corner, pen and pad held at the ready to write down what he hears from either side to assist with on-the-fly translations, but he's not going to give up so early. "A very old cave." Genki's demeanor is stern enough to get his point across, and he slides one sheet for another to continue his oral review of the facts as they've been documented.
"You have tested as SLC … E." A frown now, and a glance up at the pale man across the table from him — a man handcuffed to the table.
Something that normally wouldn't prove an issue for Miles Dylan, except he's been negated. Assaulted, practically, with a battery of tests that did not end with that injection that was applied without his consent — and practically without his knowledge.
How was he supposed to know what adynomine was?
Sapporo-shi Police Station
Hokkaido, Japan
Miles didn't speak Japanese, but the limited English exchanges he'd had with the authorities up until now had assured him his questions would be answered. 'Soon' had been the key word, and soon had stretched into hours, ending with the now and the short, trenchcoated man across the table from him. Maybe now, he'd finally get some answers. Or maybe, they'd just try to get more out of him.
Genki drums his fingers on the papers, scanning the rows of characters. "You have no identification. You claim to be American — we will find out soon enough." The documents are flicked to the side, folder pulled shut as he looks up at Miles with an inquisitive arch to his brow. "But the real question: why are you here?" His teeth click off his cheek as he peers at Miles, like he can divine the information just by looking at him. "Some prank? Ability use gone wrong? Espionage?"
The latter is said like he's obligated to ask, which he probably is, on some level. Letting out a quiet chuckle, one side of his mouth pulls into a smirk. Even though his pace has been halting, his pronunciation has been decent for someone who so infrequently speaks the language. It continues as he follows with: "Let's hear it, then."
It is not every day that one ends up in a very old cave on one’s way through a tunnel made from light or gravity or maybe fire or something like that from another world in which they don’t really have caves you would survive ending up in because they’re all flooded.
Well, maybe there were some around that were fine. He can’t claim to have examined every single cave.
The point is, Miles is quite disoriented, and rapidly becoming more so, especially considering that he did not actually end up with anyone he expected to end up with, either. If only he’d ended up with Namiko, he might not be in this position! Or at least if he was in this same position, he’d have a translator who liked him somewhat.
By the time he’s gotten to Genki, he’s realized that something that he’d gotten has rendered him unable to just peace out, and for the second time in his life he has learned what it means to be completely unable to, you know, go places in anything other than a normal fashion.
So, he’s freaked out, angry, and not feeling in any way particularly forthcoming. So, when this random — to him — dude starts rattling off possibilities for his rather abrupt entrance into this world, he just stares for a couple of seconds, as though in disbelief. “Espionage?” he finally repeats. “Really? Honestly, I’m offended. I mean, you’re sitting here accusing me of being literally the worst spy ever. That’s sort of rude, you know? I know you don’t know me but if I were a spy I’d be way better at it than that.”
Genki laughs at that, finding humor in the American's reaction. He leans forward onto his elbows, palm turning up before he gestures vaguely in Miles' direction. "Oh? I don't know. Mistakes happen. Mainichi okashii koto ga okoru yo." His brow arches as he completes that dubious assertion. "Kore wa Shin-Sekai darou."
The translator perks up, glad to be of use. "He says, 'strange things happen every day. This is a new world'…" He glances back down to the seated agent, judging his intention before tagging on an, "… after all."
Nodding, Genki seems satisfied, not having looked up from the subject of his study. "It is more likely this was an accident. Or, you are a victim." He continues on in Japanese, which the translator helpfully interprets as, "In which case, your cooperation could help us find the perpetrator. People don't just appear out of thin air, covered in blood, with no identification. Help us help you."
“Huh?” Okay, so maybe Miles is playing up the Dumb American a little bit — even though he really doesn’t understand what was just said. Is Dumb American even a thing anymore? Probably, if we’re being honest. He looks over to the translator even more exaggeratedly than necessary, and when the English version comes, he frowns a little, in obvious confusion. Or feigned obvious confusion. It’s definitely either real or fake, that’s for sure.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a new world,” he says after a moment. “Sure, Japan’s pretty different than what I’m used to but I feel like we moved away from calling people from other countries ‘aliens.’” That’s definitely what you meant, right, Genki?
However, he does latch onto something after that, and he nods. “Yeah, an accident. Sure. There wasn’t really a perpetrator. Sometimes things happen, you know? You never had something just kind of happen? Believe me, if I’d’ve known where I was gonna end up I would’ve picked somewhere else. At least a very new cave. And with my ID.” That he definitely has, okay?
As for the assertion about this not being a new world goes, Genki lets out a gruff grunt. A short, sardonic laugh accompanies it. "Of course, gaijin," he assures. "but people like you ensure every day we wake up to new world. Little by little, changing. Where things happen that make life different before you realize." He lifts one hand, fingers pinched millimeters apart to emphasise his point, and stops leaning on his arms altogether as he drags his fingers through the space before him with staccatoed pauses, each time that gap becoming just a bit wider.
"You, and the rest of the shinka-jin." is added in a derisive near-mutter as he looks up toward the ceiling, rubbing his jaw while he thinks.
During the lapse in the conversation, the translator looks back to Miles and interjects in a hush, "Shinka-jin is used to refer to those who are SLC-Expressive. In common parlance, the Evolved."
Genki sighs before he looks back across the table. "This accident - tell me what happened. Did you cause it, with your ability?" It's possible he might be more diplomatic in his own tongue, but he's stubbornly trying to stick to English. "Because this is not normal." The frown that accompanies the statement clearly indicates he prefers normal.
“Okay.”
After that word that is pretty clearly a pejorative — at least, judging by the tone — Miles takes a deep breath, letting it out slowly. Again, it’s an exaggerated gesture, definitely more than it needs to be in any case. “So,” he continues, “maybe this is a cultural thing, but when you’re trying to get someone to answer you, it really works better if you don’t talk to them like they’re shit.” He says it as though he’s trying to be helpful, but it’s still in a really purposefully overly helpful tone. “Are you trying to do, like, a good cop/bad cop thing?” This is directed to the translator. “It’s not really working for you. I’m just saying.”
He sits back, crossing his arms over his chest and stretching his legs out in front of him. “What’s normal? Like you said, nothing’s normal. Maybe I caused it, maybe I didn’t. I really don’t know. Maybe you don’t know this,” and here there’s just the slightest lean on the word ‘you,’ as in, ‘you non-evolved person, how sad,’ “but sometimes our abilities can change over time, or get stronger or whatever. I don’t claim to be an expert. I just know what I’ve been able to do in the past. Maybe this was something like that. I’d have to test it more.”
The translator seems surprised, starting to shake his head, but receives a question from Genki who's looking at him over his shoulder. After receiving a hushed, lengthy explanation Genki snorts in amusement as he turns back to Miles. "Good cop, bad cop," he mutters, making note of the phrase.
He seems interested enough in the talk about the specifics of abilities, though, doing the courtesy of arching his brow to show he's listening. He's a character of his own in this moment, in the face of Miles' exaggerated state. "And what is it you do?" Genki asks, not politely, but neither with the same level of brusque as before. "You were negated until a translator," a gesture to the bespectacled man behind him, "and expert," and now a smirk with his hand on his chest, "could be brought to see you."
His voice is light, even amicable as he switches into Japanese, which the translator tries to echo as he says, "If you tell us more about your ability, maybe the Adynomine won't be necessary."
That's a big if, given that they're currently chalking this all up to an 'accident', and Genki seems to know that. His brow arches expectantly, almost in a silent dare.
Miles at least seems somewhat mollified — a tiny bit, anyway — that he’s been somewhat amusing. He doesn’t necessarily become nicer, but at least his expression smooths out a little bit, and he doesn’t immediately come back with a sharp retort. Instead, he shrugs, reaching up to scratch his head. He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does, at least, he doesn’t lie.
“I’m a teleporter,” he says, and if it was a dare, well…he’s apparently taking it. Luckily it tracks with his appearance in the cave being an ‘accident.’ “I’ve never really jumped like that before, but it’s not that weird.” Totally not, Genki, okay? Right? “Maybe I started getting stronger. Maybe I was drunk. I honestly don’t remember. I’m sorry I caused a disturbance, I really didn’t mean to.” It even sounds sincere!
And hell, it even sounds plausible why he showed up now. And how he did.
Genki looks pleased, but he runs his hand over the bottom half of his face in exasperation anyway. You feel like a bit of a bad guy when you can't reward someone for their honesty, after all.
"Teleporter accident," he sighs. "But you are not…" Instead of saying anything in either language he knows, he opts for bringing both fists together before him to indicate a whole, before breaking them back apart in a snapping motion with his fingers splayed. You know, splinched in half. "So that is good." he opines with a tilt of his head, jaw rolling while he decides what to do next. He almost turns to the translator out of habit, self-correcting with a tick of annoyance that smooths out by the time he starts talking to Miles again, gesturing at him.
The translator provides distractedly, not looking up from his pad with notes, "Can you explain about the blood? We were able to confirm it's not yours. Even if this was just an accident, there clearly was some kind of trouble beforehand. We can do everything we can to help you, if you tell us."
Genki looks back at the translator finally with a squint, doubting something in the interpretation, but not having the confidence to correct. He turns back to Miles with a cant of his head, his posture open. 'If you tell us,' the gesture repeats.
“Yeah, teleporter accident. Exactly.” Miles nods encouragingly. Now you’re getting it, Genki! Good job! It looks like he might be home free — or at least, it seems that way. That is, until the question about the blood.
Damnit.
He doesn’t answer right away, looking down and away briefly, a little flicker of sadness crossing his face before it smooths out again. It might be real, or it might not. Not that either of the others know him well enough to be absolutely sure. He takes a deep breath, letting it out in a sigh, before he speaks again.
“Okay,” he says, a lot more seriously this time, and he still doesn’t look up. “look. I know it was stupid. I was trying to see if I could go farther than I had before. So one of my friends was like, hey, how about I see if I can amplify you. Because that’s what he does. So we were trying, and that’s the last thing I remember. Then I ended up here. So I don’t actually know what happened. Obviously he pushed too hard. I’m hoping it’s just that he got an explosive bloody nose, and not something worse.” He reaches up to rub his face, keeping his hand there for a couple of seconds.
The agent across the table looks less satisfied this time, but not to the point he questions the story out loud. He watches Miles' movements, the perceived gesture of worry for his friend, and Genki finally lets out a note of acknowledgement for the story. His eyes narrow before he asks, a bit more carefully, "Where did it happen?"
“New York.” It’s a gamble. Miles has no clue what New York even looks like in this world. He’s obviously hoping that it’s not totally gone to hell, but this world seems a lot better than the one he’d come from — or at least a lot more livable. He can’t afford to hesitate, because then the whole lie goes to shit. Maybe he can get away with not knowing exactly what happened, but not where he was. Then he does look up, meeting the other man’s eyes steadily, his face neutral even as he internally braces himself for Genki telling him that he’s misstepped, and they know he’s a big fat liar.
Well, not fat. He’s in great shape. I mean, look at him.
Regardless of the state of New York, it's clear on the other side of the world. Genki doesn't need to do the math. That's really-damn-far kilometers away, no matter which direction you head to get there. His voice is even as he poses his next question. "And your usual range?" the translator echoes.
Miles looks away from Genki then, but it’s just to look at the translator. Probably. He may be heaving a sigh of relief — again, internally — but he’s managed to get through this much. Hopefully there’s not too much more. “I haven’t done a whole lot of testing before,” he says. “But a couple miles.” Haha. “Anywhere I needed to go before, but I never needed to go that far.” He reaches up to rub his face again, and there’s a little weariness there now. Well, he has been up for a while, and this process isn’t exactly conducive to rest. “I don’t know if I did this on my own or not. I don’t know if I could get back by myself.”
"Ma," Genki reassures him with the ghost of a grin. "Shinpai suru na." His hand pats the table loudly before going on, gesturing emphatically. Maybe he's just a character all the time.
The translator's a little less enthused, his delivery deadpan. "Well, don't worry, we'll be getting you back home soon enough. The deportation process should be simple enough, given it's to the United States…" he pauses, looking down at hastily scrawled characters to try and recall what was said next. "Aaaand… SESA has been responsive in past dealings, which should help expedite things as well. We'll have you turned over to them in no time."
There's a slight inflection of hesitance, but he continues on diligently, "You can't stay here, obviously. You don't belong."
Genki is blissfully oblivious, leaning back and thoughtfully peering at the ceiling. His own rudeness is apparently lost on him.
Miles’ eyebrows raise, and he gives the translator a Look. Seriously? “Yeah, well, I didn’t choose to come here,” he says. “And I’m not itching to stay. I’m happy to get out of your hair as fast as you feel like sending me. I’m not still here because I want to be.” Okay, maybe he should get out while he’s ahead — sort of — but he can’t resist that one, apparently. After all, it’s true. If it were up to him, he’d probably already be gone.
He doesn’t ask any sort of question about what the hell SESA is, because obviously that’s not going to help his story that he’s totally from this world, guys, really. Instead, he just asks, “So…is that it? The faster we’re done here, the faster I can never darken your doorstep again. Win-win, right?”
There's not exactly apology in the translator's eyes, but there is recognition of the strong look pointed at him. When he turns to provide a spoken translation of the phrases, Genki just half-grins again. "Almost done," he promises.
'Almost' turns out to be subjective.
Yamagato SEA-TAC Landing Strip
Washington, USA
February 8th
The bureaucracy only took a few days to begin moving, something of a mercy — even if it didn't feel like it to the man who the movements took place around. It wasn't something he could easily appreciate, given how long it took for anything to actually happen from it. Jumping from essentially one cage to another had not been part of the plan, and it was hard to truly gauge the state of the world Miles now found himself in — any news that might have made its way to him was all printed or spoken in a language he could not understand.
Once underway, at least the in-flight movie selection (with many English-speaking titles!) stood as consolation against the boredom of the long journey. The aurora lights shone during the night as the flight path swung them to the far north, but for the first time in months, the dancing colors in the sky stayed where they belonged and did not follow them all the way down to Washington.
The absolutely affable Genki had not been his seat partner on the flight, and instead Miles had been sat with another agent who revealed themselves over the course of the flight to be a telekinetic. It had been easy to pick that detail up, once they had started to play a card game where the cards moved of their own accord. Every time he had moved his arm to silently direct the course of the cards' path, the white-stitched letters MUGAI-RYU practically shone on the bicep of his jacket, along with Japanese characters that presumably said the same thing.
It's that agent who leads him off the plane now, directing him with a grip to his elbow. What Miles had seen of Hokkaido had been cold and wintry, full of life and energy, seeming completely untouched by tragedy of any kind. It had been a good sign he'd been dumped some place better than the world he left. In comparison, the Washington air was warm and spring-like, and the city skyline showed signs of war, and abandonment. On top of that, the 'airport' they had landed at was hardly more than a landing strip on an island entirely under construction.
"Uwaa," Genki drily intones near Miles, his surprise at the state of the city sounding feigned if not unenthused. He doesn't break stride for the building serving as the terminal for the 'airport.' Eyes on the greening skyscrapers across the bay, he remarks, "War hit hard." Gesturing a hand out to it with a roll of his wrist, he turns to Miles, a genuine note of interest visible in his otherwise weary expression. "New York look like this, too?" Nyuu York.
Miles had mostly watched whatever news programs he could find, in order to try and get a crash course in what the hell is going on. Hopefully not a literal crash course, but the plane came in fine, despite the very small and unsafe looking landing strip. He had also made small talk with his seat partner, and while he didn’t ask anything overt that would give him away, he did try and nudge some small questions to try and get some context. So, by the time they get to the airport — such as it is — he knows…well, not a whole lot more than he knew before, but some.
He shoots a bit of an incredulous look at Genki as they walk once they’ve disembarked, but he refrains from saying anything about how so much schadenfreude about the state of Washington is probably not necessary. After all, maybe it’s just a cultural thing. Instead, he says, “Yeah, pretty much.” Hopefully that isn’t a lie, and if so, he won’t get caught.
Throughout the trip, he’s attempted to jump. So far, it hasn’t worked. The adynomine has been administered regularly, and he hasn’t tried to resist, mostly because he’s vastly outnumbered and has no weapons. But still, every time it’s almost time for his next dose, he tries. Of course, he doesn’t know anything about here to jump to, so instead he focuses on someone.
Genki just lets out another exaggerated note of interest when Miles confirms, reaching into the pocket of his long tan trenchcoat. "Zannen desu." Maybe in another life he gets to take his wife to see a show on Broadway like she wanted. He mutters something thoughtfully to that effect as he pulls out a pack of cigarettes that have been neglected for far too many hours, letting Miles and the other Mugai-Ryu agent walk ahead for a moment while he looses one free.
The telekinetic seems to realize something suddenly, pausing just before the terminal door. He turns back, asking a pointed question. Even not knowing the language, it's easy enough to infer the ask: Where's SESA?
Cigarette in mouth, hands fishing for his lighter, Genki just shakes his head. Detroit is a recognizable word heard in his reply. This wasn't the end, just a pit-stop for fuel, after all. His telekinetic partner cants his head in an annoyed way, looking back toward the plane.
Whatever it is he asks next causes Nagano Genki to look up from trying to light his cigarette between his palms, the lighter flame sparking. He looks surprised, his tired-lines becoming more pronounced. He turns, pinching the cigarette between two fingers, and shouts back on the direction of the plane. Someone rushes back aboard to come to the assist.
Miles knows what time it is, as do the agents who have forgotten his next dose inside an overhead bin. Simple oversight caused by each assuming the other would grab the needed case. Genki, for his part, clearly assumed he'd continue the role of just providing input and not actually interacting physically with anything that was going on. The agent by his side starts to slump, expression nothing else than one of 'are you kidding me?'
"Mada jikan ga nokoru yo." Genki insists, eyes darting back to Miles with suspicion. Watching for signs of anything being off, but … otherwise not moving. "Ne?" he adds in what's meant to be an upbeat reassurance. Instead, wordlessly, the agent holding onto Miles turns them back around toward the plane and starts again at a brisk walk, murder in his eyes.
They'd made it all this way.
And like a sleeping limb realizing its state, a niggling sensation has started within Miles. A reaction that would cause the telekinetic to break into a sprint if he knew it was happening. Instead, he focuses on the doorway of the plane. He just needs line of sight. Line of sight, and an additional thirty seconds to apply the injection.
Miles doesn’t try to understand a whole lot of what’s being said — instead, he focuses on what he can figure out. The fact that it’s been a while since they gave him whatever it is they were giving him. The fact that they seem to have become just a little bit more lax about things in general. The position of everyone, just in case he tries and somehow gets halfway finished before he fails, because maybe then he’ll at least have a chance to run. It’s never happened before, but he doesn’t know how this stuff works. He only knows that he has no desire to be in the custody of whoever SESA is, even if they’d want to help him. He’s been in others’ custody long enough.
As soon as his captors realize what has happened, he seizes his moment. He doesn’t need a line of sight, not for what he has planned. He doesn’t know where Namiko is, or if she’d even gotten through the portal. Same for Isa and Shaw. He doesn’t know if anyone else got through, really, or if they’re stuck in some interdimensional limbo, or dead. The only thing left to try is to think of someone who might have a counterpart in this world, and hope that it works. So, he picks someone to focus on, and the air around him starts to shimmer. Something that this particular person had said to him in another place has become clear in the time he’s had to think about it, and it’s pretty much the only thing that he’s relatively sure will work without resulting in something too terrible.
As the air around him shimmers and he winks out of existence, there’s only one thought he holds in his mind besides the name.
Let’s hope this one’s less crazy than the other one.
The case of injections has soared into the telekinetic's hand and he's let go of Miles' arm to pry it open right as the teleporter makes a break for it. Knowing the damage done to the cave and having no desire to suffer anything similar, all he does is step back with a shouted curse. Once their formerly-captive teleporter has winked from existence, he turns sharply to Genki.
Before the wiry intelligence agent can so much as get a smart comment out, the package of cigarettes in his hand crumples in on itself before ripping itself out of his hand, soaring as a misshapen red and white lump across the tarmac. Tongue in cheek, Genki just slowly closes his now-empty hand in on itself.
Who even knew where Miles Dylan had gone now.
???
Well, it was no cave this time. So that was something.
Stone does shift underfoot though as soon as Miles shimmers back into existence. Sunlight streams in through a hole in the ceiling, creating visibility in the run-down ruin of a building. It's odd, though. As far as he can tell, the place is abandoned. No humans, and certainly no seer, or anything remotely resembling her.
When he turns around, though, there is a big fucking cloud of hazy red energy. Red lightning crackles and pops on the ground below it, a few stray streaks snap near his feet.
Miles takes a second to take stock of where he is. No gunshots, so that’s good. Not in the middle of an ocean, which is even better! Or at least it’s the same amount of good. He’s still for a second or two to make sure he’s not going to fall, since this place is nowhere near as nice as Japan. Do better, America.
“Eve?” he says as he turns around, and all that preparation goes to hell as he lets out a yelp and stumbles backward away from the cloud. This, unfortunately, causes him to fall flat on his ass with a grunt of pain. “What the fuck!”
It’s nothing like he’d expected, but then, what has been lately?
The nimbus of energy doesn't seem to react to Miles' appearance but the falling on his ass and scream cause something to shift and it now does move. The metal filings inside spasm as the cloud crackles forward and jerks from side to side before it's right in front of Miles face, the heat bearing down on him and then it's as if Eve realizes she is in a volatile state. Too late as a streak of red lightning strikes at Miles leg and a portion of the cloud settles around his arm causing a prickling sensation and leaving behind a sunburn as soon as the cloud jerks away.
Around in a circle it zips, popping and crackling along with frantic energy.
The next thing Miles knows the cloud slams into the ground, crimson sparks flying and it moves now in a different way altogether. Metal filings twist and then straighten, slowly taking a vaguely humanoid shape. A primal scream seems to echo backwards and the thing formerly known as the Murda Imp changes more as the humanoid becomes more feminine in shape and features etch themselves on what would be a face. Pale skin slowly covers the bright crimson body and once the raven haired mane shakes itself out the woman in front of Miles is both who he expects and not at all.
Eve.
And she's completely naked.
Normally brown eyes are now a vibrant shade of crimson and she seems to vibrate with energy, wincing at times along with the spontaneous jump of crimson lightning from her body. "Miles?!" Her voice comes out raspier than usual and she coughs into her chest still completely oblivious to the fact that she's nude though this Eve thankfully isn't old enough to be Miles' grandmother.
"You're here!! I'm here!! We're both supposed to be dead! Where am I? I didn't think this was Heaven.." Looking around the place with wide eyes it seems to snap back to her and she physically rocks that direction with an open mouth, "Ahh you woke me up from my nap," a snort and Eve goes to ruffle the back of her head. "From one dead person to another, you shouldn't do that! What if I hurt you! Mama's got a new set of wheels-" Eve hasn't spoken to a person in weeks now, barely able to get herself together before leaving Joe. Miles is getting a full dose of the Eve Ramblings, "Oh we have to tell Boomer!! I guess we're back to being alive or at least to her, fuzzy fuzzy says the wor-"
The former seer is cut off by a violent ripple through her body, this isn't her original body. Not anymore. With a vicious explosion of red, Eve shrieks as she reverts back to that state Miles found her in and there she hovers in front of him.
“Whoa!” Miles flings a hand up as Eve pulls herself together, though one hand isn’t going to do a whole lot in this instance. “You are very, very naked!”
He might have said something else, too, but then she starts talking, and while maybe she’s more coherent than her older and wetter counterpart, she doesn’t actually make a whole lot of sense to him at the moment, either.
“Dead?” he manages, but that’s all that he manages to get out before she explodes again.
”Fuck!”