air mail [OPEN]

[theguideless]

Date & Time: 4/11, sporadic times in the afternoon
Location: across the street from the apartment bldg
Characters: Martin, all of you
Summary: it's not actually air mail it's more like fail mail
Warnings: you tell me


Martin's letters were not the sort to be sent – not conventionally, not intentionally – but the wind seemed inclined to give it a try, peeling pages out of his careless fingers as he carried them up the outdoor stairs to the floor he stayed on.

"Woh– wait, no!"

Five, six pages? He nearly forgot, his hand flexing and finding nothing crinkling against it as he raced down the steps, eyes on the sky and the kidnapped pages. He nearly tripped over his own ankle, rounding the last flight and hopping off the final three steps, landing with a heavy whuff! on the ground. With no time to spare before the pages would flutter out of sight, he hurried across the street, shuffling here and there in wait for those that had hit the wall and begun a staggering descent. He hopped a few times before – "Ha–!" – catching one in a hasty, flailing grab, doubling his efforts for another.

There's two safe, but...

He looked about, ears straining for the sound of the paper. They weren't in the air, so...where?

So Martin took to looking, scouring the length of the building opposite his home, peering around the corner and grimacing at the mess of trash and...well, papers waiting for him. Oh, no... He only gave a few messy pieces a ginger pick-through before backing away, chewing on his lip.

It wasn't long before he'd taken a seat near that corner, back against the wall and knees drawn up to make a lap for him to smooth out the pages he'd managed to catch. Some of the graphite had smudged with the effort (and his sweaty palms), leaving letters smeared and strange.

He let out a sigh, feeling some of the adrenaline shake off. These aren't in order...

He'd take up the search again, then – more than once before retreating back to the wall to think about it...and zone out a bit, getting lost in thoughts that led to nowhere and other places much farther out of reach than they had been before. It was hardly a productive use of an afternoon, but Martin had very few obligations to tend to. And in any case, those pages were a kind of obligation in his mind.

Was it three missing? Or four...?

Comments

[barefootbender]

".....oh. Nevermind." She deflates a little bit at that, and keeps her elbow to herself again. His sister? That's not fun at all. There's nothing juicy about it.

Although, now that she thinks about it, it does make her wonder a little. "Is you sister here, too? The Initiative doesn't send letters or whatever back to our worlds, does it?"

[theguideless]

"Auh, no," Martin replied, still faltering with the remains of a great deal of confusion a simple nevermind wasn't quick to fix. Still, he had to shake it off enough to pay better attention to the questions at-hand. "No, she's not here...I don't think she'll be here. And, uh, I'm not sure about that. Sending letters..."

He looked down at the pages rustling against his grip as he fidgeted.

"At least, I was never told that was possible..."

[barefootbender]

"So you're writing a letter you can't even give or send to someone?"

Her tone signals that she thinks that's really weird, but instead of glaring at him and really demanding an explanation, she lowers herself to the floor and leans back against one of the corner's walls.

[theguideless]

"Well..."

It sounded strange when she said it, but he'd hardly thought it strange at all. Martin frowned, scratching at his arm as he thought about it.

"Well, I..." Ah, the thought came back clearer suddenly. "I don't think I'll ever see her again. At least this way, I've said something, somehow..."

That was it, wasn't it? A way to feel connected. It's what Madoka did, too. Both of them finding some simple way to feel a part of the world they weren't anymore.

[barefootbender]

Toph thinks about that for a second. She can tell through his body signals trembling into the ground that he's not trying to hide something. He really is that morose and quiet. Kind of comes off as a wussy sort of kid to her... but she won't judge if he's really that unhappy.

Ponder ponder. Asking more about the letter feels a little nosy in this situation. Can't she help somehow?

"I'll tell you what," she starts, standing up again from the dirt. "I'll point you to every last scrap of paper on the ground around here. And we'll check every one to see if it's a page you're missing. How does that sound?"

[theguideless]

"But," Martin faltered, having almost said alright. "But you said you can't see...so how...?"

He must've missed something in her explanation. That had to have been it.

[barefootbender]

"I can still get around fine. Let's just say I can still 'see' everything by sensing what's touching the floor and the vibrations they make."

To emphasize, she pulls her eyelids down, making a silly face. Come on, dude, relax!

"So you want help or not?"

[theguideless]

He startled a little at her expression, his own contorted in wide-eyed confusion. Vibrations on the floor? But...His mouth twitched with a deeper frown. But paper didn't do much of anything, let alone vibrate, right? Was...was she teasing him? He was never really good at telling, especially when it was girls.

"Ouh..." He half-squinted. "I mean, if you would like to, I suppose that's..."

[barefootbender]

"Can't you give a straight answer for once?" she sighs, but even as she says it, she reaches out and snatches his hand and pulls him along.

"Let's see...." Maybe this is harder than she thought. From what she can tell, there are dozens and dozens of scraps of paper in the vicinity. Well, might as well, just pick one and start. She leads him over to the nearest paper-like object and releases his hand so she can pick it up and hand it to him.

"Is this one?"

[theguideless]

"Ah..."

Martin stared for a length, still waiting for his thoughts to catch up with all the rest of him having been pulled along. He was surprised, and certainly didn't understand how she was able to make such a bee-line right for the nearest piece of paper. With his free hand, he plucked it and squinted, already seeing color and ink that was certainly not a sign of his own.

"N-no, this isn't mine. I don't think any of these over here are...I looked before, but..."