DAY 25: Recreational Field (second shift)
Rabastan was on a mission to try to please Severus Snape. Someone should really stop and pity the poor Potions Master. So far, Bast had managed to lose just about everyone he had gotten attached to, and he was determined to not lose Severus. Severus was real after all
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There were only a few people out when he arrived. A tall man with long silvery hair. Another man, with the same hair color as he had, and actually close to his height as well. Was he talking to someone on that small device? Allen didn't know they could be used two ways. Maybe he could try getting a message out later. It was worth a shot.
And the last one? Akuma. Or at least something like Akuma. Allen tried to steer clear of that one. He appeared clean-cut enough, nice enough, by whatever human standards there were, but Allen was still reluctant. Renji had said there were only five or so shinigami. Was he one of them? He'd have to look into it sooner or later. Besides, until other people arrived, there wasn't a lot else for him to do. And if it turned out he was just another shinigami, then, maybe he could make another ally?
He put on a smile and gave a short wave, "Good morning."
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"And I'm guessing you're a morning person," Brock said dryly and eyed the kid. He certainly didn't look very threatening with his lacking height and that fruity girl's hair, but if there was one thing he'd learned from Landels, it was that for starters kids could be the most dangerous ones and that he was probably a mutant/metahuman/whatever like everyone else here.
This patient didn't look familiar. Probably a good chance that he was new, but if he expected the welcome wagon speech, Brock wasn't exactly the best person to be giving it. After all, if a patient died, then good for him - more food by default, and the uninformed prey were easier pickings if it got to that.
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"I don't mind them," Allen shrugged. He was used to getting up just before the sun to start his workout routine for the day. "I was just wondering if you wouldn't mind terribly if I asked you a few questions."
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"Knock yourself out," Brock said, and broke out into a walk down the field, not looking back to see if the kid was following or not. He wasn't really in the mood for twenty questions, but then again, it wasn't like there was anything better he could be doing. They were stuck here, him and his lonesome Other, so the options were limited, at least during the day.
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"Well, um, if you'll forgive my being terribly blunt sir," he began, "I've noticed that you're not exactly um... well, human." It was difficult to describe just how strange it was to be talking to someone he suspected was an Akuma in such a formal tone. "If you wouldn't mind telling me then, what exactly it is that you are? Are you one of those Shinigami perhaps?"
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"Now where'd you get that idea?" Brock asked, raising an eyebrow, and looked down at himself. Despite his relationship with the symbiote, he still looked human, even before Landels, and after..? Well, he'd been stripped down almost to what he'd been before his Other, which was infuriating and disgustingly close to being almost normal. "And what's a Shinigami?"
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"I can tell," he said simply. It wasn't difficult to see the black aura floating above his shoulders. At least, not with his cursed eye. Any normal human would have missed it of course. He didn't bother to answer the second question. If he didn't already know what one was, he probably should say much. "Please answer. If you are what I believe you are, I may have to take action. But I want to give you a chance to explain yourself."
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The fact that the runt was talking like they had to explain themselves was grating - first of all, Brock was probably double his age and size, and second, they didn't answer to anyone.
Okay, Brock technically answered to the symbiote, but that was okay because their relationship was special and one had to willingly make concessions to get this kind of second chance. Aside from the symbiote, though, Brock refused to answer to anyone else, especially not some albino runt trying to play bad cop.
Brock turned back to the kid. "Look, I don't know what your deal is, but maybe we're getting off on the wrong foot or something. What do you mean, action? And I've got nothing to explain, but I'd like some answers, such as why I'm getting interrogated by a minor for no apparent reason?"
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He paused, coughing to clear his throat, "Normally protocol is to destroy you, but since I've been informed that this place is anything but typical and we might in-fact be from different worlds, I'm giving you a chance to explain to me what you are."
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"So let me get this straight," Brock said after choking down another laugh, looking incredulously at the runt. He almost broke down again, but managed to keep a straight face this time. "You're some self-appointed exorcist who goes around making all these ridiculous claims like I'm not human or you're going to destroy me. And I'm supposed to just roll with this? And explain myself like I'm some kind of criminal?"
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"I was appointed by the Black Order, under the Vatican," Allen said firmly. "And it is certainly not a ridiculous claim. If you're innocent, I'm willing to hear your explanation, though your shady responses seem to speak otherwise." The Akuma was hiding something, that much was clear. Was it possible he'd stumbled upon the real thing this time? "It is a simple enough question. I don't see the reason not to answer."
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He shook his head. "What do you want me to say? That I'm some kind of freak? Or that I'm possessessed or some shit? I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm normal. You'll just have to take your retarded little crusade somewhere else."
With that said, Brock resumed walking. He was amused, but his symbiote's wariness was starting to color his own feelings on the matter; it had felt that this human wasn't lying, and really did believe that he saw something. Maybe he did. Brock didn't profess to know how the fuck mutants worked, after all, and he supposed it was possible to have something as wildly out there as X-ray vision. But he knew he was normal and was perfectly happy with what he had become these days - the only problem was he was almost back to human and that was where he started chomping at the bits and getting pissed off.
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He hurried to catch up, "Sir! Please, all I want is an explanation!"
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Where did Martin Landel pick up these nutjobs? Brock couldn't begin to imagine, but he supposed that it wasn't that far of a stretch to suppose that some of the patients here really did belong in a mental facility.
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He watched the man's expression very carefully as he said the names, hoping for some inkling of an answer. This was so much simpler in his world. If he saw an Akuma, he just had to destroy it. Not play at some interrogation with them.
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"I've never heard of any of that," Brock said truthfully. "So I think if you're going to try to persecute me or something, you might want to start explaining yourself."
He might just then get an idea what the fuck was going on and why a little kid thought he could just run up to people and start throwing around these threats - okay, so they were polite threats, but still.
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