actual shoujo hobo allen walker. (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
debtor) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
exsiliumlogs2013-12-07 05:36 pm
debtor) wrote in exsiliumlogs2013-12-07 05:36 pm
(all open)
Date & Time: Around December 9th (forward-dated)
Location: around town, Earthside
Characters: Allen Walker (debtor) and YOU
Summary: Allen returns from his canon update and avoids all his friends like a dumbass.
Warnings: terrible hair and eau de hobo
[It's not the Moon, at least.
He remembers it vividly enough now. Had forgotten it for a year, he'd forgotten all of it — a massive, terrible gap in his memory he hadn't realized was missing until it'd all come rushing back the moment he'd returned. It'd left his head spinning for a day, but by now he thinks he's got a firm enough grasp of it. No, this isn't the Moon, but it isn't the Exsilium he knows, either.
It'd all turned to snow, Kaneis had told him...
He hasn't sought out Kaneis. He hasn't sought out any of them. Not his friends, not his comrades. He can't.
He's been gone a long time, he's sure, and if any of them are still here, they've gotten on fine without him
(better off without him.)
He can't let himself want to. They're probably not even still here.
This is how it should be.]
[But if you know him, the boy is more or less in the same state he was in a few days ago. A fraction of an inch taller, just barely thinner about the face, changes so insignificant they'd be too difficult to really pin-point; save for his hair, which is unmistakably longer and tied back in a ponytail, presently. He dons a battered old coat clearly not intended for subzero temperatures, and carries with him everywhere a worn brown suitcase (stuffed to the brim mainly with clown props. Don't ask.) He's spent his energy seeking supplies, since arriving. If there's one thing he refuses to do, it's succumb to starvation or frostbite here and now, of all times. Once he's set, he can figure out what to do next.
And he really doesn't know.
Can he still fight this war? How can he help in this world, when he's like this? He thought he was following his own path, really his own, finally, only to be thrown off it entirely. Again.
He does what he can do, what he thinks best. He stays the course. He moves through this place as he did his own world - alone. He's not an Exorcist, he's not a soldier or Transport to anyone he meets, he's wearing the mask of a nameless drifter; he tells the locals he's nothing but a traveling entertainer, just passing through town, when they inquire. It's only half a lie. He brushes off the mistrustful glances he receives, smiles genially at every unfamiliar and unfriendly face, never stays in one place long, covers his tracks and fades into the background just as he'd learned from Cross. (Easier to do when everything's so dang white.) It's second nature now. And he does well at it
except he's neglected to actually disguise himself, and you may just be able to spot him around the town.
Throughout the day he can be found within and without various shops and businesses, bartering for food or winter clothing or a room in an inn. Inflatable balls and moth-bitten shirts can only fetch you so much in this market, though, he's finding, but he haggles as hard as he can.
At one point, he wanders out into the snow, shaking in the chill despite himself, squinting into the stark landscape, but finds himself unwilling to step out too far into it like this, lest he lose himself in some featureless snowdrift and die a terribly undignified death. Possibly at the hands of a polar bear. Like that one maybe, right over there, which is getting alarmingly close...
...And in the evening, he finds shelter back in the tunnels, curled up in some dark, uninhabited corner where he can catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep, perhaps. Somehow, he manages.
He's totally got the hang of this, he's doing great on his own, don't worry.]
Location: around town, Earthside
Characters: Allen Walker (
debtor) and YOU Summary: Allen returns from his canon update and avoids all his friends like a dumbass.
Warnings: terrible hair and eau de hobo
[It's not the Moon, at least.
He remembers it vividly enough now. Had forgotten it for a year, he'd forgotten all of it — a massive, terrible gap in his memory he hadn't realized was missing until it'd all come rushing back the moment he'd returned. It'd left his head spinning for a day, but by now he thinks he's got a firm enough grasp of it. No, this isn't the Moon, but it isn't the Exsilium he knows, either.
It'd all turned to snow, Kaneis had told him...
He hasn't sought out Kaneis. He hasn't sought out any of them. Not his friends, not his comrades. He can't.
He's been gone a long time, he's sure, and if any of them are still here, they've gotten on fine without him
(better off without him.)
He can't let himself want to. They're probably not even still here.
This is how it should be.]
[But if you know him, the boy is more or less in the same state he was in a few days ago. A fraction of an inch taller, just barely thinner about the face, changes so insignificant they'd be too difficult to really pin-point; save for his hair, which is unmistakably longer and tied back in a ponytail, presently. He dons a battered old coat clearly not intended for subzero temperatures, and carries with him everywhere a worn brown suitcase (stuffed to the brim mainly with clown props. Don't ask.) He's spent his energy seeking supplies, since arriving. If there's one thing he refuses to do, it's succumb to starvation or frostbite here and now, of all times. Once he's set, he can figure out what to do next.
And he really doesn't know.
Can he still fight this war? How can he help in this world, when he's like this? He thought he was following his own path, really his own, finally, only to be thrown off it entirely. Again.
He does what he can do, what he thinks best. He stays the course. He moves through this place as he did his own world - alone. He's not an Exorcist, he's not a soldier or Transport to anyone he meets, he's wearing the mask of a nameless drifter; he tells the locals he's nothing but a traveling entertainer, just passing through town, when they inquire. It's only half a lie. He brushes off the mistrustful glances he receives, smiles genially at every unfamiliar and unfriendly face, never stays in one place long, covers his tracks and fades into the background just as he'd learned from Cross. (Easier to do when everything's so dang white.) It's second nature now. And he does well at it
except he's neglected to actually disguise himself, and you may just be able to spot him around the town.
Throughout the day he can be found within and without various shops and businesses, bartering for food or winter clothing or a room in an inn. Inflatable balls and moth-bitten shirts can only fetch you so much in this market, though, he's finding, but he haggles as hard as he can.
At one point, he wanders out into the snow, shaking in the chill despite himself, squinting into the stark landscape, but finds himself unwilling to step out too far into it like this, lest he lose himself in some featureless snowdrift and die a terribly undignified death. Possibly at the hands of a polar bear. Like that one maybe, right over there, which is getting alarmingly close...
...And in the evening, he finds shelter back in the tunnels, curled up in some dark, uninhabited corner where he can catch a few hours of undisturbed sleep, perhaps. Somehow, he manages.
He's totally got the hang of this, he's doing great on his own, don't worry.]
no subject
Oh. Th-thank you, again. I wasn't expecting— [ anything. he pulls it into his lap to get it off the table. ] Merry Christmas, sir.
[Haha. He'll have to pay him back, later.]
I'd be happy to.
misspelled "beer", oh brain. :')
You should come to the museum with me. We are trying to make it more comfortable for everyone.
[The food arrives soon enough, warm and delicious. Kevin makes sure to order bread as well, so Allen has more stuff to fill his stomach with.]
i knew what you meant!
A museum? [ why would a museum need to be comfortable... ] Do you mean, as living quarters?
that Kevin loves bears? :')
Precisely. It is warm enough. And we most certainly have space for more guests.
[From Kevin's point of view, anything is better than Break's brothel.]
drink bear responsibly!!
But he pauses. He feels like an ass, turning this down, but.]
I'd help you all, but, ah... this isn't a good time, I'm afraid.
I'm still settling back in. [ ...at least, that's the best excuse that comes to mind. he's avoiding people he knows, more precisely. or, trying to.
He's not quite prepared to commit to a group project at this time.]
:'D Never.
And then after a long pause:]
The museum is quite large, actually. I am certain there are quiet rooms to sleep and rest until one...settles back in.
no subject
It's a very kind offer, Mr. Kevin. But I can't.
no subject
Young man, if you freeze to death I shall not forgive myself. And I doubt I will be the only one.
no subject
He wants to tell him, you barely know me, why are you taking responsibility?]
I shan't, please don't worry about me. I'll be fine.
[He even has a sweater now!]
You'll be sure to stay warm as well, right?
no subject
[And you, dear boy, is getting another ugly sweater, which Kevin is currently pushing across the table.]
Would you change your mind, please knock on the museum's door. Not only your presence would be incredibly welcome, we could also use your additional assistance.
There is still much to be repaired, you see.
[That said, he might check on him for the next couple of days to make sure he does not freeze in some forgotten cave.]
1/2
Thank you, but you've given me enough - I'm sure there's someone else who needs this more than I do.
no subject
Perhaps I'll come by to help, later.
[He should...]
no subject
You should! Later, we shall have a Christmas choir. There will be tea and cookies for all.
no subject
no subject
no subject
That is a crowd. I'm glad, I didn't realize you were all acquainted.
no subject
[She kicked me for bothering her demon.]
no subject
-Actually, when did you arrive, if you don't mind my asking?
no subject
Four months ago.
[Just before Britain got nuked. He has never stayed away from young master for so long.]
...May I ask the same question?
no subject
Kevin's clearly not happy about it. (Who would be, really?) He's sure '12 months' isn't something Kevin really wants to hear, then -
but what else can he say?]
It's been a year, now...
no subject
[This child, this poor child, has been growing in this terrible place for an entire year?]
...Master Walker, when was last time you attended school?
[His education!]
no subject
[OF ALL QUESTIONS
that wasn't one he was expecting in the slightest.]
I haven't... [ever.]
no subject
No, Master Walker. That won't do. We will have to start immediately.
no subject
He leans away, pressing his back into the chair. Start what? School, start school immediately? He can't go to school now.]
W-what? No, that's really not necessary, Mr. Kevin.
no subject
[He produces a notebook from his jacket and starts scribbling on a blank page. Finally, he detaches it with great care, folds it into a tiny square and puts it on Allen's hand, accompanied by local currency.]
Go to this address immediately and buy the books and tools on the list. I'll be waiting right here.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)