[Otoha is in the library, holding a piece of paper and looking irritated. He can't figure this word out, and he stalks over to the reference section, grabbing a Japanese-English dictionary. He flips through it for a moment, and frowns. Oh. That's what it means. He flips it closed and shoves it back on the shelf. Wait. That doesn't look right. He pulls it out and puts it back where it's supposed to go, and then looks up at John.]
[Wait. Wait he knows that kid. Or at least he was told about this kid.]
[He's in simple jeans and a t-shirt for his work, and at that question, he just pulls the pockets of his jeans inside-out with a fierce glare. No lighter. No source. Happy?]
Yeah. Not in a lot of detail because honestly it's not any of my business. But I was... let's just say if I don't show my face in Japan again it'd probably be a good idea.
That is so badass. [Seriously, eyes shining. He has never taken to a teacher here - ever, but certainly not this quickly.] I'd have a damn good arson rap sheet if they put together everything I burned down while I was homeless, but - god, that is badass. You must be bored as shit here.
Hey, I do what I can, but I'm only one shit-stirrer. [The smirk is back now.] And they've got Petre locked down hard, but I doubt that'll keep him quiet.
[Odd that he's slipped into that 'they' language, even though this man must be part of the staff or at least the X-Men to be here. It's just so clear that he doesn't fit.]
The best night. Nothing like hitting up the seediest parts of NYC and actually having a bed to sleep in afterward.
[But there's still Petre's stupid order on him. It hasn't gotten him into trouble yet, but it's going to. At some point, he'll have to try and make contact with a guy for something, and he'll look like an idiot.
Fucking Petre and his messed up jealousy.]
We're not friends or anything. The staff stuck us together as roommates to try and force us to play nice. [He huffs, gaze shifting upward.] We'll never play nice.
Trust me, man, I know. [He shrugs, his eyes almost lit up from inside as he smiles wickedly.] But nothing's stopping me. They'll never kick someone outta here. Just means they'll learn how much it sucks to bleed out from the heart.
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[Wait. Wait he knows that kid. Or at least he was told about this kid.]
They put someone with fire powers in the library?
[Are the rest of the faculty that stupid?]
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That was probably the best part of it.
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I just thought it was funny.
[He glances at the paper he's got in his hands and frowns.]
If only letting you burn my paperwork would get me out of it.
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Man, find another dog to eat your homework. I'm in enough shit as it is.
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[At least here it's a talking to rather than running from the police...]
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[Just a weird coincidence. On to the more important part:]
Holy shit. You were in the mob.
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[He laughs again. He likes this kid.]
Yeah. My father ran one of the branches of one of the groups that operated in Shinjuku.
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[For a number of reasons, so...]
I need to keep my head down here for the most part.
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[Okay, he can't say too much of this in front of a teacher, badass history or not.]
- you're still bored though, right? Just 'cause you have to doesn't mean you like it. I've got literally nowhere else to go and I still hate it.
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[Odd that he's slipped into that 'they' language, even though this man must be part of the staff or at least the X-Men to be here. It's just so clear that he doesn't fit.]
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[For varying levels of 'fun'.]
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[But there's still Petre's stupid order on him. It hasn't gotten him into trouble yet, but it's going to. At some point, he'll have to try and make contact with a guy for something, and he'll look like an idiot.
Fucking Petre and his messed up jealousy.]
We're not friends or anything. The staff stuck us together as roommates to try and force us to play nice. [He huffs, gaze shifting upward.] We'll never play nice.
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[He's kind of the last person who should be imparting life lessons.]
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[He will pay Petre back for that order. He doesn't know how yet, but he will. The war rages on.]
Just my shitty luck that he's impervious to fire, or they'd be housing an arsonist and a murderer here.
[No John, not in front of staff]
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