[Ethan may suck at playing keep-away with Mallory when it comes to little bundles of fruit, but he's perfected the art of keeping himself away from the boxer. So much so that at one point Mal had the passing consideration that he'd left the island entirely. He didn't think much more on that, other than good, and he preoccupied himself to trying to readjust to the lonely life he had in his first month in Koriko.
Only with a lot more drinking. He can stop any time, okay.
As it turns out, the bars aren't half as lonely for him as he suspected they would be. Or as lonely as he'd like. It's hard to lose oneself in dark, masculine brooding when every so often someone like a scarred old kappa or a bling-bedazzled tanuki would give him a wave or a clap on the back and talk about how much they missed him down at The Pit, and when was their prize fighter going to make a comeback? Mal was always surly toward anyone who brought up his less than savoury source of income in broad daylight like this (that's his charm point!), but he's even quicker to tell them to piss off now. So much so that he's started to keep himself on guard for anyone who seems to be approaching him so he can shoot them down before they even try.
So he notices the change in the crate-with-legs' pace as it nears him, and his harsh gaze whips toward it instinctively. Oh. None of the low lives of Koriko's seedy underbelly this time, just a dumb kid. That's so much better.]
Ethan.
[His voice is perfectly flat, maybe even a little tired sounding.]
[ When you do a good job staying away from the government, you can do a good job keeping away from anybody. He was contemplating walking over himself, but, ah, maybe some other time or—
When his name is said in the most demonic way possible (that is an exaggeration), making him freeze mid step behind the bar's counters and stand. Completely still. Maybe if he didn't move, he wouldn't see him! T-rex vision! Except Mallory is totally not a dinosaur, and Ethan could only keep in one place for so long. Lowering a stiffened leg, the teen turns, crate still weighing over his shoulders but bothering him little, slowly turning his head to face the tired man's call.
Tired. He sort of looked tired, too.
Perhaps there hadn't been such a need to stare at him so widely? He said his name for like, the first time without messing it up. He remembered his name. Did that head trauma help his memory after it jogged—? ]
Mister . . . Mallory.
[ It's awkward, but. Um.
Here it is. Conversation. Tense and unsure as it was, especially on Ethan's part. ]
[Conversation!! Terse as it is. Actually, Mal's not sure what prompted him to grab his attention in the first place. It's not like he's been so lonely he even misses him or anything! Does he look desperate?! No, he's just- he's had too much to drink, or something. That's all.
He wrinkles his nose a little before turning back to the bar.]
[ . . . Trailing off, maybe he was a little bit, for his own obvious reasons. With a shift in his standing to distribute his weight, and with a quiet "it's okay" from one of the nearby bartender, he brings the crate from his shoulders to his arms, holding his breath as he lifts and sets the goods down to the floor, just where the space for cabinets and such should be.
What was he doing here, anyway?
He's intrigued. They were in quite the social place, surely nothing would happen here, right? With a swift exhale and a swing of his arms, he rides that awkward pause before deciding to break it himself. ]
[Ah, good. Things went from 0 to -60 in no time at all. Just go on with whatever work you were doing, you punk!
But Mal does look back over at him at the question, eyebrows raised. Like he thinks he heard right but can't really connect it to any kind of context.]
What are you talking about? It's fine.
[Did he have a fall so bad he doesn't remember anything? Was it from the previous night of drinking? No, he would have felt it this morning for sure.]
[ Not that Mallory probably remembers it at this point. Ethan has to rub his neck before urging himself to speak again, standing closer to the bar to avoid getting in the way. ]
You said you hit your head? You couldn't even remember who I was. [ He pauses. Um— ] Remember my eggs? You scared the shit out of me in the kitchen?
[Wait... Is this something that happened while he was stuck in Chou's body?]
Sure, right, I remember now. [He sure hopes it wasn't anything important.] I just had too much to drink. --Look, forget about that. There was something I wanted to ask you about. Sit down.
[ ???? He goes again, but— that's easily replaced with wide eyed discretion, looking around the bar and to the empty seats by the man before walking around to reach one of them. Something he wanted to ask him about. He could only have an idea on what— what else would it be about, right?
His chest is starting to thump a little harder after his stomach starts to drop. It's alright. Everything's cool here. They're in a good place. Mallory doesn't look angry. What Ethan could see in his eyes— it was enough for his gut to comply, and reassure him that it's okay. ]
S— [ It's all good. ] Sure.
[ He can't help but to feel a little nervous anyway though, and rubs his hands together before he slips into the specified bunk. ]
[Oh yes, it is probably exactly what Ethan's afraid of. Mallory watches him flatly as he seats himself, and drops his voice to something low but firm. He's not exactly making any accusations this time, but it's definitely more than just idle chitchat time.]
What are you?
[Speaking of scaring the crap out of people... Mal hasn't forgotten that godawful noise Ethan made during their last scuffle and how it froze him to the spot.]
[ On second thought, maybe he had to go. You know. Into the forest before it gets to dark or something. Actually, Mr. Mallory, there's something I gotta do, see you later? That wouldn't slide. He squirms in his seat, visibly holding his breath and tensing up. It's exactly what he thought, and for once he really did wish he was dumb enough to answer that with something like "an idiot sandwich".
He wants to say "human", but even that's caught between a tightened throat. He's a horrible liar, and this is where his honesty doesn't come to his rescue, only anchoring him in a place he didn't want to be.
It's apparent that it's not an easy answer with just how much Ethan hesitates to speak, looks as if he's been cornered and fingers rubbing nervously into his palms. ]
I'm . . . [ Come on Ethan, think of something— What would Eiji do here? Dance around the question? Ignore him? Turn around and sleep?
Baristas ask him if he wants anything as they pass, but he quickly declines. Drinks and cloudy minds are the last things he needs right now. ]
[That's why he wants to clear things up. There are probably a bunch of finer details that a more scientific mind would appreciate, but Mallory's only interested in the big important points that might directly affect him or the people he actually cares about.
What he does know is that the only other time he heard a sound that paralyzed him like that, Eiji was in the same place. And that Eiji has some kind of pet murderghost that only Ethan could see. They also have very short revival times, but that probably has nothing to do with that and more to do with the Witch's whims. Surely. Only one of those things really interests Mal right now.]
[ That was more direct than he could've waited to hear, visually taken aback some, swirling in his seat and nearly falling over, needing the bar's surface for balance. He's gawking at the man so much that he can't bring himself to answer right away, not without a question of his own bubbling up in a hush to be answered. ]
[What's wrong with being blunt? No sense beating around the bush. He doesn't have the patience for some kind of sneaky operation unless it's the only way to draw someone out. He ran the Future Foundation's brute squad he WAS the brute squad, not intel management. But he's still observant enough to take what info he needs.]
So you do.
[Nice poker face, kid. He takes another sip of his drink, but he doesn't so much as blink while he watches Emi like a hawk.]
[ Wait, he was handing it to him all willy-nilly! No! Ethan's face immediately twists into a frown, volume turning up only to get shot down by his own awareness. Indoor voices. ]
[Strange that he's so secretive about it in a place like this. Some holdover from wherever he came from, maybe? Mallory's got his own secret's he's plenty defensive about, as poor Ethan has had the misfortune of figuring out, so the last thing he wants to do is broadcast this ghost thing to the whole damn bar. Not yet at least.]
Hey, calm the fuck down already. Shh. [Indoor voices indeed.] Relax. He didn't rat you out or set you up or anything. He talked about having some ghost of his own when we were stuck out by that mountain and that you're the only guy who could see it.
He also made it sound like it usually does whatever the hell it wants and does so violently.
[Mallory's the only one allowed to get away with that bullshit!]
I know he didn't—! [ He attempts to cut in, but goes quiet as soon as Mallory continues. Eiji wouldn't do something like that, and neither would Ethan with him, which is why he's asking: How much could I tell you? He won't be stepping across the boundary Eiji has invisibly created— from experience, and Eiji even more so, they were all too familiar with the unwanted fame that came with being an ajin.
So— Mallory was afraid of his nonexistent ghost?
If he were an asshole, he'd totally take advantage of this. Yeah I do have a ghost what about it, but— there is a much stronger voice in his head that says No, Ethan. God damn these heroic morals.
Quieting down, his hands grip the edge of his seat between his legs, using a foot to make his spot creak in place, left and right as he looks down. ]
I can't make one yet. [ Yet. He's working on it, and the determination in his voice makes that clear. ] You're worried?
[Did he have to say worried? Well, at least he didn't accuse him of being scared. Look, it's a reasonable- concern to have about a roommate, even if Ethan hasn't shown his sorry ass around room 001 in a while.]
Just as worried as I'd be about any other unpredictable weapon in the hands of an idiot.
[In the hands of a maniacal mastermind is bad enough. But even Mallory can no longer deny that Ethan would only have the purest intentions. Barf.]
Is it something you learn or is it just going to start happening like some middle-school boner?
[ At least if this goes moderately well, he'll slink back like an inch worm . . .
Brows quirk up in question to the comment, letting it slip away verbally but frowning at the "idiot". He'd do a lot of useful things with a ghost, thank you very much!
But, right, right— conversation. Answering questions. well, he's talked to Peony. He's talked to Riye. He's seen things with his own eyes. Maybe it's best to take this the way it's being given. Cautiously. It's still a chance to straighten things he'd rather not keep crooked, even if his nose was patched up from his last reset. ]
. . . It's pure luck. [ At least, by the book of Ogura. Who knew if that were really true? ] But— If I ever get one, it's probably not gonna be like Eiji's. His is different.
[He scowls openly at that. Luck and Mallory have never been on good terms.]
"Probably."
[He grunts and looks down into his glass, his brow furrowing just a little more than usual. From what little he knows about Eiji's... What was it? Something potentially violent and really fixated on a single person? Sounds familiar.]
Tch. You make it sound like this is common where you're from.
[ He doesn't know what it's like to have one to say for sure, geez!! ]
Uh . . . Not really. [ Or just a little bit? Ethan rolls his shoulders, gives a surprised, curt nod when courtesy water if left in front of him. It came at a good time, his lips were nervously dry. ] It's normal for people like us. When it involves everyone else, it's . . . Pretty rare. Like winning something on the radio.
[ Let's face it. You're never caller 50. Ever.
But what's raised more question is how Mallory seems to be completely oblivious to a fact that's known around the world. ]
. . . You don't have that sort of thing where you're from?
[Whether it be because of the Future Foundation's careful tabs on the world at large, or simply because someone with that kind of crazy ability would have made made international headlines even before the world went to shit - and honestly, someone that amazing probably would have ended up at Hope's Peak Academy one way or another.]
I've seen a lot of extraordinary abilities in my life, but that's just people who are absurdly talented at normal things. None of this magic or ghost crap. [No matter what that dumb fortune teller claimed.]
[ Ethan's lips are ready to spurt something before zipping together. So— so he didn't have ajin. The vastness of different universes seemed so absurdly large that he couldn't even wrap much of the possibility around his head to fathom it. Riye tried to explain it once and things just got mega confusing, but— at least he gets the minimum. ]
That sounds nice. [ The demi human says it without much thought, thinking of just how many things they wouldn't have had everything been normal. As soon as he thinks of it, he shakes his head to himself, looking as if he's just made an error. He would've died, as a child, and stayed that way had everything been normal.
He wasn't ready to die, then, and he sure as hell wasnt ready now. Rather . . . Scratch that. He'll die as many times as he needs to. ]
[Despair aside, there were still plenty of other necessary secrets to keep. Inherent traits that needed to be kept on the down-low or risk marking them as 'other' in a society that valued rigid conformity. But Mal's here to forget his problems, not discuss them.]
Well, whatever. I got what I needed.
[He waves his hand dismissively and then finishes off his drink. Then he stands, fishing around in his back pocket for coin to slam against the counter.]
[ Already? So soon? (What else were you waiting for, boy) Ethan follows Mallory with his eyes as his mouth begins to gape, twisting his body along with it. He should be going too, before it got to late to (literally) hang around the forest. He'd go, but . . . Maybe if he could just clear one thing up. ]
H—hey, wait—
[ And bounds over to him— hopefully he turns around. ]
[And turn around he does, his mouth pulling into a flat line, but at least he doesn't look particularly threatening. Like, more than his usual resting bitch face.]
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Only with a lot more drinking. He can stop any time, okay.
As it turns out, the bars aren't half as lonely for him as he suspected they would be. Or as lonely as he'd like. It's hard to lose oneself in dark, masculine brooding when every so often someone like a scarred old kappa or a bling-bedazzled tanuki would give him a wave or a clap on the back and talk about how much they missed him down at The Pit, and when was their prize fighter going to make a comeback? Mal was always surly toward anyone who brought up his less than savoury source of income in broad daylight like this (that's his charm point!), but he's even quicker to tell them to piss off now. So much so that he's started to keep himself on guard for anyone who seems to be approaching him so he can shoot them down before they even try.
So he notices the change in the crate-with-legs' pace as it nears him, and his harsh gaze whips toward it instinctively. Oh. None of the low lives of Koriko's seedy underbelly this time, just a dumb kid. That's so much better.]
Ethan.
[His voice is perfectly flat, maybe even a little tired sounding.]
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When his name is said in the most demonic way possible (that is an exaggeration), making him freeze mid step behind the bar's counters and stand. Completely still. Maybe if he didn't move, he wouldn't see him! T-rex vision! Except Mallory is totally not a dinosaur, and Ethan could only keep in one place for so long. Lowering a stiffened leg, the teen turns, crate still weighing over his shoulders but bothering him little, slowly turning his head to face the tired man's call.
Tired. He sort of looked tired, too.
Perhaps there hadn't been such a need to stare at him so widely? He said his name for like, the first time without messing it up. He remembered his name. Did that head trauma help his memory after it jogged—? ]
Mister . . . Mallory.
[ It's awkward, but. Um.
Here it is. Conversation. Tense and unsure as it was, especially on Ethan's part. ]
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He wrinkles his nose a little before turning back to the bar.]
Quit acting so jumpy.
[It's annoying, and it makes him jumpy.]
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[ . . . Trailing off, maybe he was a little bit, for his own obvious reasons. With a shift in his standing to distribute his weight, and with a quiet "it's okay" from one of the nearby bartender, he brings the crate from his shoulders to his arms, holding his breath as he lifts and sets the goods down to the floor, just where the space for cabinets and such should be.
What was he doing here, anyway?
He's intrigued. They were in quite the social place, surely nothing would happen here, right? With a swift exhale and a swing of his arms, he rides that awkward pause before deciding to break it himself. ]
Is . . . Your head any better?
[ Its better than "nice weather". ]
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But Mal does look back over at him at the question, eyebrows raised. Like he thinks he heard right but can't really connect it to any kind of context.]
What are you talking about? It's fine.
[Did he have a fall so bad he doesn't remember anything? Was it from the previous night of drinking? No, he would have felt it this morning for sure.]
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[ Not that Mallory probably remembers it at this point. Ethan has to rub his neck before urging himself to speak again, standing closer to the bar to avoid getting in the way. ]
You said you hit your head? You couldn't even remember who I was. [ He pauses. Um— ] Remember my eggs? You scared the shit out of me in the kitchen?
[ ???? ]
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[Wait... Is this something that happened while he was stuck in Chou's body?]
Sure, right, I remember now. [He sure hopes it wasn't anything important.] I just had too much to drink. --Look, forget about that. There was something I wanted to ask you about. Sit down.
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His chest is starting to thump a little harder after his stomach starts to drop. It's alright. Everything's cool here. They're in a good place. Mallory doesn't look angry. What Ethan could see in his eyes— it was enough for his gut to comply, and reassure him that it's okay. ]
S— [ It's all good. ] Sure.
[ He can't help but to feel a little nervous anyway though, and rubs his hands together before he slips into the specified bunk. ]
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What are you?
[Speaking of scaring the crap out of people... Mal hasn't forgotten that godawful noise Ethan made during their last scuffle and how it froze him to the spot.]
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He wants to say "human", but even that's caught between a tightened throat. He's a horrible liar, and this is where his honesty doesn't come to his rescue, only anchoring him in a place he didn't want to be.
It's apparent that it's not an easy answer with just how much Ethan hesitates to speak, looks as if he's been cornered and fingers rubbing nervously into his palms. ]
I'm . . . [ Come on Ethan, think of something— What would Eiji do here? Dance around the question? Ignore him? Turn around and sleep?
Baristas ask him if he wants anything as they pass, but he quickly declines. Drinks and cloudy minds are the last things he needs right now. ]
Look, It's— complicated.
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[That's why he wants to clear things up. There are probably a bunch of finer details that a more scientific mind would appreciate, but Mallory's only interested in the big important points that might directly affect him or the people he actually cares about.
What he does know is that the only other time he heard a sound that paralyzed him like that, Eiji was in the same place. And that Eiji has some kind of pet murderghost that only Ethan could see. They also have very short revival times, but that probably has nothing to do with that and more to do with the Witch's whims. Surely. Only one of those things really interests Mal right now.]
Do you have a ghost or not?
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W-wait, Eiji told you—?!
[ He thought that was [REDACTED] ]
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he WAS the brute squad, not intel management. But he's still observant enough to take what info he needs.]So you do.
[Nice poker face, kid. He takes another sip of his drink, but he doesn't so much as blink while he watches Emi like a hawk.]
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[ Wait, he was handing it to him all willy-nilly! No! Ethan's face immediately twists into a frown, volume turning up only to get shot down by his own awareness. Indoor voices. ]
Tell me what he told you, first!
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Hey, calm the fuck down already. Shh. [Indoor voices indeed.] Relax. He didn't rat you out or set you up or anything. He talked about having some ghost of his own when we were stuck out by that mountain and that you're the only guy who could see it.
He also made it sound like it usually does whatever the hell it wants and does so violently.
[Mallory's the only one allowed to get away with that bullshit!]
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So— Mallory was afraid of his nonexistent ghost?
If he were an asshole, he'd totally take advantage of this. Yeah I do have a ghost what about it, but— there is a much stronger voice in his head that says No, Ethan. God damn these heroic morals.
Quieting down, his hands grip the edge of his seat between his legs, using a foot to make his spot creak in place, left and right as he looks down. ]
I can't make one yet. [ Yet. He's working on it, and the determination in his voice makes that clear. ] You're worried?
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Just as worried as I'd be about any other unpredictable weapon in the hands of an idiot.
[In the hands of a maniacal mastermind is bad enough. But even Mallory can no longer deny that Ethan would only have the purest intentions. Barf.]
Is it something you learn or is it just going to start happening like some middle-school boner?
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Brows quirk up in question to the comment, letting it slip away verbally but frowning at the "idiot". He'd do a lot of useful things with a ghost, thank you very much!
But, right, right— conversation. Answering questions. well, he's talked to Peony. He's talked to Riye. He's seen things with his own eyes. Maybe it's best to take this the way it's being given. Cautiously. It's still a chance to straighten things he'd rather not keep crooked, even if his nose was patched up from his last reset. ]
. . . It's pure luck. [ At least, by the book of Ogura. Who knew if that were really true? ] But— If I ever get one, it's probably not gonna be like Eiji's. His is different.
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"Probably."
[He grunts and looks down into his glass, his brow furrowing just a little more than usual. From what little he knows about Eiji's... What was it? Something potentially violent and really fixated on a single person? Sounds familiar.]
Tch. You make it sound like this is common where you're from.
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Uh . . . Not really. [ Or just a little bit? Ethan rolls his shoulders, gives a surprised, curt nod when courtesy water if left in front of him. It came at a good time, his lips were nervously dry. ] It's normal for people like us. When it involves everyone else, it's . . . Pretty rare. Like winning something on the radio.
[ Let's face it. You're never caller 50. Ever.
But what's raised more question is how Mallory seems to be completely oblivious to a fact that's known around the world. ]
. . . You don't have that sort of thing where you're from?
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[Whether it be because of the Future Foundation's careful tabs on the world at large, or simply because someone with that kind of crazy ability would have made made international headlines even before the world went to shit - and honestly, someone that amazing probably would have ended up at Hope's Peak Academy one way or another.]
I've seen a lot of extraordinary abilities in my life, but that's just people who are absurdly talented at normal things. None of this magic or ghost crap. [No matter what that dumb fortune teller claimed.]
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That sounds nice. [ The demi human says it without much thought, thinking of just how many things they wouldn't have had everything been normal. As soon as he thinks of it, he shakes his head to himself, looking as if he's just made an error. He would've died, as a child, and stayed that way had everything been normal.
He wasn't ready to die, then, and he sure as hell wasnt ready now. Rather . . . Scratch that. He'll die as many times as he needs to. ]
—I kinda wanna take that back.
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[Despair aside, there were still plenty of other necessary secrets to keep. Inherent traits that needed to be kept on the down-low or risk marking them as 'other' in a society that valued rigid conformity. But Mal's here to forget his problems, not discuss them.]
Well, whatever. I got what I needed.
[He waves his hand dismissively and then finishes off his drink. Then he stands, fishing around in his back pocket for coin to slam against the counter.]
See you.
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H—hey, wait—
[ And bounds over to him— hopefully he turns around. ]
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Hm?
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