RP Log: Oota Kakeru and Ohtori Choutarou
Date: 16th May, lunch-time.
Rating: G
Summary: Oota and Ohtori meet in the cafeteria.
--
The thing about counters, Oota Kakeru thought with a frown, was that they were never really low enough. He would like to once encounter a desk where he didn't have to strain his back, trying to peek over the damned thing. He shrugged, reached out for his tray of food and made his way down the cafeteria with his lunch - soup and some bread and a glass of water - and flopped down on the first free seat he could find. He looked up at the man that was already seated at the table. "Yo."
"Good afternoon," Ohtori offered in reply, looking up at the newcomer. Moving his legs so that he wasn't taking up all the leg space under the table, he straightened up in his seat. Picking up rice with his chopsticks, Ohtori asked, "Is that all you're having for lunch?...."
"Small stature. Don't need much food. Not that you would understand that." The guy was pretty tall, but he had a polite look about him that immediately made Oota think 'mama's boy'. Oh well, at least he wouldn't be a bother. Maybe.
"There was a time when I was short, you know?" Ohtori smiled, despite the other's blunt manner. From the looks of it, the other was an analyst, but Ohtori didn't recognise the face. He knew most of the senior analysts by name, but not very many of the others, since most analysts were of the sort who didn't spare time for sociable activities. "You are...?"
"Oota. And you?" Well, let's play the polite one then, obviously. Oota picked up his spoon and took a small sip of the soup - that was actually pretty good - while he waited for a reply.
"Ohtori desu." Curious character, Oota was. Ohtori spared a glance around the cafeteria, exchanging nods with some of his acquiantances. It was nearing the end of the lunch rush and people were clearing out slowing, mostly the administrative staff who were rushing back to their work. Ohtori himself wasn't in any rush, since he wasn't actually needed for training until later that afternoon. He could afford to eat his lunch slowly.
"Hn." Oota shrugged, then busied himself with tracing patterns in the soup with the spoon, humming to himself as he did so, not on a tune, but more like the buzz from a bee or some other insect. He liked to make weird noises while he ate. It distracted him from the fact that a bunch of strangers watched him stuff himself full, that was just something he didn't really approve off. "So... What do you do around here?"
Oota surprised him with the question, since Ohtori didn't figure him to be a conversation starter. "Hmm?" Ohtori looked up from his own plate. "I teach." It didn't matter what he did in the past, spy or whatever, he was a trainer now.
"Figured. You kinda look like a teacher or something. How old?" Why was he hell bent on keeping the conversation going again? He couldn't remember, but maybe it was a pretty okay way to pass time. Maybe.
Ohtori hesitated before answering the question. He didn't quite understand why Oota was asking the question, and his old instincts were telling him that it was mightily suspicious. But he firgured there wasn't much harm in answering the question, "Thirty-two," after a pause he added, "and you?"
The younger man took two more spoonfuls of the soup and nibbled a little on the bread before he replied. "Twenty-three. New here. So, are you someone I should know about?"
Ohtori laughed, "Hardly, unless you're interested in getting training or if we're assigned on a mission together." So he was new. But Oota's age didn't mean that he was any less competent in his work - if he weren't, he wouldn't have been recruited.
Finishing off half his slab of bread, the young analyst nodded slowly. "Got it. Well... You're not gonna welcome me to the force or some shit like that?"
"If you so wish. Welcome to the force, then. The people around here are mostly nice, though some are a little weird." Ohtori had no idea why he had mentioned that little, inane, piece of information, since socialising was encouraged only off work hours. New recruits weren't, well, new after all, after a while, they simply got absorbed into the 'force' (as Oota has so phrased).
If you're gonna do it, why not do it properly... Oota got to his feet and walked over to Ohtori's side of the table, extending his hand in a very Western gesture. "Thank you so much for having me."
Pushing his chair back, Ohtori stood up and grasped the offered hand. "My pleasure," he said in response. Releasing Oota's hand, he gave a slight bow, switching to the more traditional greeting, "Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu."
"Yeah, that too." Oota flashed a grin at the older man, then picked up his tray and made his way towards the exit. "Maybe I'll see you around."
"Perhaps," Ohtori smiled, "until next time then, Oota-san." As the analyst walked away, Ohtori checked his watch. Just past one... there was still a lot of time for him to enjoy his lunch, and to grab a cup of coffee before heading for the training session.
Rating: G
Summary: Oota and Ohtori meet in the cafeteria.
--
The thing about counters, Oota Kakeru thought with a frown, was that they were never really low enough. He would like to once encounter a desk where he didn't have to strain his back, trying to peek over the damned thing. He shrugged, reached out for his tray of food and made his way down the cafeteria with his lunch - soup and some bread and a glass of water - and flopped down on the first free seat he could find. He looked up at the man that was already seated at the table. "Yo."
"Good afternoon," Ohtori offered in reply, looking up at the newcomer. Moving his legs so that he wasn't taking up all the leg space under the table, he straightened up in his seat. Picking up rice with his chopsticks, Ohtori asked, "Is that all you're having for lunch?...."
"Small stature. Don't need much food. Not that you would understand that." The guy was pretty tall, but he had a polite look about him that immediately made Oota think 'mama's boy'. Oh well, at least he wouldn't be a bother. Maybe.
"There was a time when I was short, you know?" Ohtori smiled, despite the other's blunt manner. From the looks of it, the other was an analyst, but Ohtori didn't recognise the face. He knew most of the senior analysts by name, but not very many of the others, since most analysts were of the sort who didn't spare time for sociable activities. "You are...?"
"Oota. And you?" Well, let's play the polite one then, obviously. Oota picked up his spoon and took a small sip of the soup - that was actually pretty good - while he waited for a reply.
"Ohtori desu." Curious character, Oota was. Ohtori spared a glance around the cafeteria, exchanging nods with some of his acquiantances. It was nearing the end of the lunch rush and people were clearing out slowing, mostly the administrative staff who were rushing back to their work. Ohtori himself wasn't in any rush, since he wasn't actually needed for training until later that afternoon. He could afford to eat his lunch slowly.
"Hn." Oota shrugged, then busied himself with tracing patterns in the soup with the spoon, humming to himself as he did so, not on a tune, but more like the buzz from a bee or some other insect. He liked to make weird noises while he ate. It distracted him from the fact that a bunch of strangers watched him stuff himself full, that was just something he didn't really approve off. "So... What do you do around here?"
Oota surprised him with the question, since Ohtori didn't figure him to be a conversation starter. "Hmm?" Ohtori looked up from his own plate. "I teach." It didn't matter what he did in the past, spy or whatever, he was a trainer now.
"Figured. You kinda look like a teacher or something. How old?" Why was he hell bent on keeping the conversation going again? He couldn't remember, but maybe it was a pretty okay way to pass time. Maybe.
Ohtori hesitated before answering the question. He didn't quite understand why Oota was asking the question, and his old instincts were telling him that it was mightily suspicious. But he firgured there wasn't much harm in answering the question, "Thirty-two," after a pause he added, "and you?"
The younger man took two more spoonfuls of the soup and nibbled a little on the bread before he replied. "Twenty-three. New here. So, are you someone I should know about?"
Ohtori laughed, "Hardly, unless you're interested in getting training or if we're assigned on a mission together." So he was new. But Oota's age didn't mean that he was any less competent in his work - if he weren't, he wouldn't have been recruited.
Finishing off half his slab of bread, the young analyst nodded slowly. "Got it. Well... You're not gonna welcome me to the force or some shit like that?"
"If you so wish. Welcome to the force, then. The people around here are mostly nice, though some are a little weird." Ohtori had no idea why he had mentioned that little, inane, piece of information, since socialising was encouraged only off work hours. New recruits weren't, well, new after all, after a while, they simply got absorbed into the 'force' (as Oota has so phrased).
If you're gonna do it, why not do it properly... Oota got to his feet and walked over to Ohtori's side of the table, extending his hand in a very Western gesture. "Thank you so much for having me."
Pushing his chair back, Ohtori stood up and grasped the offered hand. "My pleasure," he said in response. Releasing Oota's hand, he gave a slight bow, switching to the more traditional greeting, "Yoroshiku Onegaishimasu."
"Yeah, that too." Oota flashed a grin at the older man, then picked up his tray and made his way towards the exit. "Maybe I'll see you around."
"Perhaps," Ohtori smiled, "until next time then, Oota-san." As the analyst walked away, Ohtori checked his watch. Just past one... there was still a lot of time for him to enjoy his lunch, and to grab a cup of coffee before heading for the training session.