Just Doing Boys' Things | Open

It was both a blessing and a curse to be out and about at a time like this. The sun was out in full force, which meant it was, naturally, hotter than the core of Mama's apple and cinnamon pie. That was good news for budding fashionistas, who had an excuse - if not a civic duty - to exercise the fullest extent of their wardrobe, their wallet and their wits by decking themselves out in suitable Summer garb. For some, this seemed to present a challenge to wear as little as possible and still be considered socially decent.

Emile, on the other hand, was wearing a modest collection as usual. A pale beige sunhat shielded his delicate blonde locks from the searing heat, while a baby-blue polo shirt, denim shorts and open-toed sandals let his skin breathe in the hot afternoon sun. He didn't feel the need to express his bodily pride - for a number of reasons, all things considered - and tended to prefer that he just be allowed wear whatever worked. Something that straddled that fine line between "reasonably fashionable" and "necessarily practical". That he had also chosen to include his beloved stuffed swallow, slung over his shoulder and neatly tucked into a baby's papoose, was for his own peace of mind more so than anything else.

Fortunately, people were more than accustomed to such curiosities. This was Death City, Nevada, after all; if the fact that it was the home of Death Himself didn't cause people to chuckle and accept the serendipitous strangeness around them, its proximity to Sin City no doubt would. All in all, people seemed to just be happy there weren't strippers outside handing people tastefully lewd playing cards.

Well. Not that many, at least.

With a soft sigh to display his general contentment with the world around him, Emile took a perch at the edge of the plaza's signature fountain and let his fingers dabble in the clear blue waters behind him.

Something is very wrong here...I can't put my finger on it, but I know something isn't right.

As this thought crossed his mind, Aiden continued to roll down the street in a stolen office chair. There were a mixture of shouts, screams, and gasps as people dived out of the way of the run away furniture. It was completely lost on the meister, who simply draped his arms on the back of the chair and leaned over, resting his chin on the backs of his hands, looking at the confusion he was leaving in his wake.

I feel like I should be doing something right now.

"Watch where you're going moron!"

Ahh, that was it...maybe I should turn around.

With that thought, he finally seemed to notice his rapid, rearward decent down the steep hill. He stretched his back out, pushing his arms forward in the process which caused the chair to tip onto two wheels, spinning him around as he continued down the hill.

Well this seems counter productive. At this rate I am liable to hit something.

He glanced around expecting something to happen with out much result.

I said 'I am liable to hit something!'

A gap in the sidewalk caused a slight bounce into the street where he was clipped by a car sending him up a skate ramp, and flying through the air.

Not what I expected but it will d-

A thunderous crash breaks the relative silence of the afternoon as an office chair crashes through two windows, rebounding off a windshield to rest in the flowerbed of a small french bistro where the young man was now lying, covered in a layer of crepes, eclairs, and macaroons. The "filthy urchin" as the waiter was now calling him slowly raised his whipped cream covered arm to the heavens, fist clenched with righteous indignation.

"Curse you gravity! I will defeat you someday!"

He then proceeded to sprint off, leaving his filched, financial-firm-furniture behind as he fled the scene of the crime. He continued to run for several blocks before sliding to a stop next to a boy in a blue shirt.

"Hey, new best friend, do you know what an alibi is? Cause you're mine right now."

A brief, relentless series of thuds was his soundtrack. It was sunny and hot and perfect outside to run a little! Or a lot! Yeah, it was always better to run a lot than a little whenever you had the chance. At least, that was Toshioni's mentality on the matter. His might not have been the best opinion when it came to physical exercise. Wait no, it totally was. Pfffft, it didn't matter now to the Meister. All he had to do was keep running until he didn't feel like running any more. Even then, he might not stop. Toshioni didn't typically stop running until he was content that he had improved some aspect of himself. His speed, endurance, or form in some way. He had run at least a tenth of a mile more than he had the day before with the same level of fatigue...that would suffice. It was right around the time that he should be stopping.

However, his tank top sticking to his torso reminded him of how hot we was. The sweat that covered his forehead, neck, back, and torso was making his white tank-top translucent and heavy. With a sharp exhale that masked his exhaustion, Toshioni found something that would cool him down quickly before he began the long walk back to the DWMA's Dorms: A fountain. Crossing the street quickly, he ran right towards the fountain without a moment's hesitation. He actually didn't even notice the two guys chilling by the fountain. With a quick motion, he grabbed the rim of the fountain and plunged his head and shoulders in. Straightening up, he shook his hair and noticed his white attire no wetter than it had been before.

Breathing slowly, he actually noticed the people around him. Oh, new friends for him: what a glorious day. "'Ey guys, what's going on?" he asked to both of the guys in front of him. One looked kinda like a little kid, just from him bone structure and hat. The other looked kinda like some sort of punk rocker. What an odd pair?

Emile blinked when he saw the young man enter his personal demesne on what appeared at first to be a ballistic office chair. Upon further inspection, he concluded that it was, indeed, a ballistic office chair.

This city just got stranger by the day.

He chuckled - half nervously, with the other half occupied by sincere benevolence - and nodded politely at the young man.

"De rien, mon ami," he said in his petite voice, straddling the line between feminine grace and juvenile sweetness. He extended a hand, only to witness another young man arrive on the scene with - somehow - even more vim and vigour than the other fellow.

He blushed and, leaving his hand outstretched with a limp little tilt, looked away. He regarded his personal space as his own personal demesne for the same reason as he tended to keep to himself and say very little to others unless as an absolute necessity: his self-confidence - or lack thereof - would not allow it. He had never before seen these two people in his life, and for tiny Emile, they may as well be enormous animals from an ancient myth.

Yet the second boy had said "friend". Did that mean they were now formally acquainted? He risked a glance at him, then pulled his face back, blushing even more profusely than before.

He was very handsome. Objectively speaking, he has a good shape to his face, and his body was slender without seeming to have much effort put into it. The former fellow was also attractive, in his own unique, self-affected way, yet he didn't seem to have any concern for his appearance. It was remarkable. What he would give to have that sort of contentment with his looks!

Oh, but he oughtn't think like that. He had a body at all that worked just as was intended to, and for that, he was eternally grateful. He gave his head a little shake. These people had been kind enough to grace him with their presence; so it was only right that he return the favour!

"Hello, he said, perhaps with just a little too much emphasis on volume; then he thrust his hand into the first gentleman's hand, then the second lad's, giving both a brisk yet firm shake to declare his appreciation of their arrival, "I am Emile d'Esprit, Death Weapon Meister Academy Student, Demon Weapon, EAT class! I am all of these things and nothing...nothing...ah...nothing more! C'est ça, mon ami!"

(OOC Note: I was told the Nevo left and the best thing to do was for me to just write him out. So, here goes.)

As Toshioni looked towards both the apparently shy kid and the punk rocker, something on the punk rocker's face dropped. He wasn't looking at Toshioni or his blonde brethren, but off at the distance. Why would he be looking away when he was currently in the presence of such a supernova? Seriously, what was this dude's deal? Curious, he pivoted on one foot to see what the punk had looked at to cause his face to make such a quick one-eighty. Marching towards them was a police officer, some men who looked like waiters, and just some regular people: they were all pissed. One pointed right passed Toshioni and their face became even more irritated.

"That's the little brat who broke my window!"

Turning his head, Toshioni first stumbled upon the small blonde one and thought for a moment that was who the mob was after. No no. That was just stupid; the punk rocker was their target of choice. As the mob began to cross the street, Toshioni noticed that his deviant companion hadn't started running yet. What the hell?

"It's none of my business guy, but uh, you should probably run. Ya know?"

In quick response, the third member of their party tore off from the scene, and the mob quickened their pace to catch up to him. As they approached, Toshioni sat down on the edge of the fountain and just smiled softly, offering some small words of encouragement to his friendly neighborhood law enforcement. Once they were out of earshot, he let out a small sigh before looking over to his small companion. He started chuckling about the situation before breaking out in an all out laugh about it. It was really just too funny. He actually began to laugh so hard that he lost his damn balance and well his top half fell into the water behind him. But have no fear, the stupid water wouldn't ruin his day! Shooting a quick glance to the short one, he began to laugh all over again after spitting out some water. Sitting up, he shook his hair to release quite a bit of water. Maybe it hit the short kid, maybe it didn't. Oh well.

"Hello, I am Emile d'Esprit, Death Weapon Meister Academy Student, Demon Weapon, EAT class! I am all of these things and nothing...nothing...ah...nothing more! C'est ça, mon ami!"

So, this kid was like...actually little. He wasn't just short. It certainly looked like he had the soft voice of someone who was about to grow up soon. Or maybe he just threw his voice to talk like that. Wait, if he did that, that made him a ventriloquist. Ventriloquists were just really really creepy, and this guy didn't look creepy per se. So no, he didn't throw his voice...obviously. So he was young, no fear! The Sophomore Meister made friends with all ages that were in his acceptable range of friends (no one needed to go to jail here). So, with a broadening grin he decided to return the introduction after shaking the boy's hand.

Bringing his hand down lightly on the boy's hat, Toshioni brought his face rather close to Emile's, smile never lessening. "Sarungekki Toshioni. Nice to meet ya Emile." He let go of the boy's hat and straightened back up. "It's pretty hot out, ya know?"

The speed at which Emile recoiled from the boy's touch was one that had hitherto been reserved for jet fighters, small birds' wings and little children on the sugariest of sugary soft drinks. He seemed to shrink even further into his tiny frame, his face flushed as red as anything, and his eyes barely resting on his guest's shins. He wrestled with the impoliteness and the sheer enormous difficulty of looking him in the eye and then - with Herculean effort of task - saw fit to stare at him. A barely perceptible smile tugged at the edges of his soft lips.

"Yes, he murmured, giving him a quaint little nod, "Sarungekki Toshioni. Oh, my! What a cute name you have! C'est Japonais, oui?"

Speaking fluent English was something that still managed to evade the little man's grasp; yet he was working hard on it. It was less that he couldn't speak the language, more that he just elected not to. It was difficult enough speaking to a person face-to-face, let alone in a language that wasn't even his mother tongue. Sometimes, reverting back to le Français, la langue du son pays was a simple, gentle, honest little bit of earnest homely comfort.

Honestly, you should've seen the way this kid bolted out when Toshioni touched his hat. With a small sigh, Toshioni quickly thought of how he typically dealt with people displaying anti-social tendencies. Well, usually it was just Tensai and he dealt with him in a way that was only really appropriate for brothers. Actually, based on Tensai's line of boundaries, it might not have even been appropriate for brothers. Oh well, nothing anyone was going to do about it now. It didn't even matter! Toshioni was here to save the day for his shy, small companion and bring him out into the realm of the socially adept! Wow, he was really kind of awesome; yeah, he really was.

Finally, after basking in his presence for a while and adjusting to the awesome levels he was taking in, Emile looked up at Toshioni and stared into his eyes. To this, he offered only the widest of grins. Just being around him was already pulling Emile out of his shell. Good job team! Awesome levels were at an all time high and radiation of said awesome was fully operational. Whoo! As Emile began to smile, Toshioni backed off his smile a bit. Didn't want to scare him off with too much cheerfulness; that would just be awful.

"Sarungekki Toshioni. Oh, my! What a cute name you have! C'est Japonais, oui?"

Blushing a little, he slid back on the fountain rim a little before leaping up. He then spun on his feet to turn to Emile and let out a small squeal of glee. He bent over to be almost at eye level with him before jumping up again to show his energy. Why was he doing all of this? To raise Emile's enthusiasm of course. Why, if he raised Emile's enthusiasm then he wouldn't notice that he would very quickly turn down that his name was "cute". It was "badass". "Badass" you hear me!

"Emile-kun, I must disagree on one thing. My name isn't really cute per se. It's kinda badass, ya know?"

Emile looked away again, quivering like a bowl of golden lemon jelly under the young man's piercing gaze. His grin looked as though it could open cans with its mere presence, so sharp and implacable it was. Emile coughed into his fingers and tried his very best to remain smiling.

"Bad...ass? Yes, I...I suppose it is. Mmhmm. Very...um...badass, mon ami...!"

Oh, God. This was going nowhere. He either had to find an excuse to politely leave before he embarrassed himself in front of this "badass" youth or he had to find some way to deal with the situation.

He thought back to his father. He was always cool, strong and in control of the circumstances he found himself in; he would never bow to humble modesty, he would say something suave and wrest the event back into his own hands. Emile reminded himself that he was a boy now, and he had to be able to act like a boy. He had to do boys' things, and sometimes, that meant being tough around other boys.

Oh, but he was so cute!

Snaring his bottom lip in his upper teeth, Emile tugged on the strings that bound his stuffed swallow doll to his body and stood up. Though his face was flushed red and burning hot enough to cook eggs on it, he resolved to thrust his hand out and stare directly into the other boy's eyes.

Oh, God. Just...try not to look at something else! Focus on the eyes! You're a boy now, Emile, just doing boys' things!

"W-would you like to have lunch avec..."

He paused, gulped, opened to his mouth and just let the words spill out.

"With me?"

"Bad...ass? Yes, I...I suppose it is. Mmhmm. Very...um...badass, mon ami...!"

This was fantastic! He had already told his young, seemingly fragile companion the true badassery he held that complimented his awesomeness just so perfectly. With a rather large grin, Toshioni jumped a little ways to the side before sitting back down on the fountain rim. He was a bit tired from his run and all the earlier excitement he'd experienced with Emile and that punk kid. With a couple breaths he almost revitalized his body and let out a rather large grin.

"See, was that so hard. Once you start to realize it, my name is extremely badass, ya know?"

Emile starting kind of looking nervous about something. A small frown formed on Toshioni's face. Whatever could it be? Was he worried about missing some appointment? Like some kind of a date or something? Yeah that was definitely it! Why else would anyone ever be nervous around him unless they had to think about how to gently tell him they had to leave? Telling Toshioni that you had to leave was something that had to be really difficult. After all, he was awesome! However, this would not be the case it seemed.

"W-would you like to have lunch avec...With me?"

Letting out a small chuckle, Toshioni felt his earlier frown give way to a small smile. That was it, eh? Emile was just worried about asking him to grab a meal. That was kinda crazy. Why would he be so nervous about asking that? Well, Toshioni supposed that not every body was as brave and courageous as he was. So, it made sense in a way that someone would be intimidated by him for simple stuff. Come on, Toshioni was a strong presence in every way. Now, would he go? Hell yeah! Food sounded really good right about now.

"Sure man. I'm not doing anything, ya know? What do ya wanna grab for food Emile-kun?"

Emile smiled brightly, at the very least attempting to look erstwhile in front of his new companion, and stood up to grace his effervescent presence. Emile was still distinctively shorter than his friend, not to mention a lot more fragile, but it was the thought that counted.

His face still as red as it ever was, he grabbed Toshioni's hand and thrust his own shivering palm into it. If he was going to be a boy, he had to establish a sense of earnest comfort around other boys.

"I know a good place," he said shyly, staring into the young man's eyes with a mixture of hesitant glory and trembling reverence, "It's not too far from here. I am sure you will love it, mon ami!"

Without saying another word, he took his newfound friend's hand and - tightening the strap that kept his baby swallow around his neck - guided him into a world that he was all too eager to immerse himself in.

Well, once he managed to get out of his shell, of course.

Emile stood up kind of hesitantly, what could this be? Well he was probably going to show him the way to this place that he wanted to eat at. Or he was about to go on some kind of daring adventure that was going to be a roller coaster of excitement. Please please please let it be the second one. And, let's be honest here. Any kind of adventure was a roller coaster when Toshioni was involved. Yeah! That was right! So, following his friend's lead, the local Meister Supernova jumped up and offered a large grin to his traveling companion.

"Where to?"

Almost as in response, Emile grabbed his hand in a manner that seemed he was going to simply lead the taller boy to their destination. So...it was like a super-secret awesome surprise location! That was super...and secret...and awesome. And most of all, it was surprising (and a location). With a small, eager little grin he bounced a little to show his excitement. Toshioni loved surprises. He loved them, he loved them, he loved them.

"I know a good place. It's not too far from here. I am sure you will love it, mon ami!"

"Cool cool cool. Don't tell me where we're going. I want it to be a surprise, ya know? I love surprises Emile-kun."

With that, Toshioni followed his friend awesomely to this awesome location they were about to awesomely dine at. AWESOME.