[ Space travel was not on his bucket list. It wasn't even an option for the bucket list. Yet here he is, hurtling through the void on a ship big enough to hold the rest of his country. Ostensibly, the cause is good - supposedly, Earth was targeted, and these people evacuated them, and what can he do but believe them when he's flying through the stars, too, helping them do just the same for other worlds? And even if it had been hard to accept his sudden new circumstances and overwhelming new knowledge, after a few months of interstellar travel alongside people from places he couldn't imagine, Bucciarati is surprised at how normal space travel has now become.
You really can get used to anything. It's probably easier when you don't have a life to go back to in the first place. Here, they keep him busy, and that keeps him moving forward. That, and the knowledge that everyone back home is depending on him in some way. The people here, too, had come to mean something to him, which leads him to his current "mission," so to speak.
Word is that the rapidly-expanding imperial fleet that they were on the run from had already gotten ahold of their current location. That meant they'd have to split up and disperse to keep the enemy from knowing their destination. But, as always, one group would have to be the bait - and, wouldn't you know it, that group consisted largely of "refugees" like himself. A friend of his had told him there was a certain someone that got assigned to his group that really wasn't cut out for jobs like this - and, bleeding heart that he is, of course he listened. ]
Did you drop this?
[ they're heading out in a few hours, which means people are already starting to gather; Bruno spots her easily enough, based on the description he'd been given, and holds a coin out to her. A 100 lire coin, to be exact, which means it's almost definitely not hers unless she collects defunct European currency, but this ostentatiously-dressed man is asking quite seriously. ]
Sakura has never even seen currency like that before.
And yet her initial reply is silence of all things, her head slowly turned in the direction of this tall man with his hand held out. The manner of his dress earns a lingering stare, at least, mouth paused in a half-breath of surprise. Eventually, however, it's clear that the sight of him won't automatically dislodge a conversation out of the young woman. Speaking -- engagement with anyone, really -- does not seem to be one of her strengths.
Perhaps it's no surprise Bruno had been asked to look over her.]
... I'm sorry, but... it isn't mine.
[Glancing to the side, rubbing quietly at her arm, shoulders hunching slightly by her ears: all efforts to appear small and beneath attention. If not for the fact more people were funneling into the debriefing hall, it wouldn't be out of the question to expect her to flee. Whether due to manners or just a lack of energy, she will at least stand her ground, but as far as conversing goes:]
... I'm sorry.
[Yeah, she might just keep apologizing until he leaves.]
[ this is exactly why he invented a reason to talk to her. Bucciarati is good at reading body language, and he's no stranger to shy types - they didn't exist within the mafia, no, but there were plenty in his little community, and they were often the most vulnerable, easy to push around and manipulate. He couldn't protect everyone, but he knew who to look out for, at least. So yes, he understands immediately - and thinks that it's good to know that Sakura has people looking out for her, too. Without much fanfare, he drops his hand, tucking both into his pockets. ]
Of course not. It would be odd for a Japanese girl to carry Italian currency around. [ he tilts his head at her. Clearly, all the very obvious signs she doesn't want to talk aren't deterring him... ] But that was my mistake. Have you done something you need to be apologizing for?
[he certainly isn't the type who is easily deterred, is he?
... Well, seeing as she can't bring herself to be so rude as to go completely mute, she's effectively stuck in pleasantries with a stranger. Her brows knit slightly, gaze angled down at the ground rather than his face, shrinking further in her attempt not to fidget]
I'm sorry, it's just a force of habit.
[Japanese mannerisms and all. They do tend to preface many of their conversations with apologies no matter whose is at fault. Or perhaps she's just being the tiniest bit sassy since she can't escape.]
Don't cheapen the value of your apologies. You'll need them eventually.
[ that aside. he's not unaware that he's boxed her in a bit - which might be his own bad force of habit. Usually, when he has to find people, it's because he needs to beat them up, not look after them in some way. At least he hasn't cornered her against a wall or anything; he's made sure there's space for her to get away. This isn't a shakedown!
It's... something. He's left debating if he should be honest with her, but decides that telling her yes, you would probably freak her out more. So he nods, glancing off to the side briefly. ]
I am. A girl around your age. I thought you might be her, but I was mistaken. [ a beat. ] I'm concerned for her safety.
[Deep down, no matter how she remains neutral-faced and quiet, she doesn't agree with the man's initial assessment. When you carry too many sins to apologize for, it doesn't matter how many you throw out in the end.
Not that it matters here. "Liberated" from her world in the name of pointless salvation, Sakura had made it her business to keep out of the public eye while living on the ship, always on the lookout for a corner to hide in. If any people here actually consider her a friend, it's likely just a kind formality on the other person's part -- she would never dare assume anyone cared enough to want her safe.
It's why she easily acknowledges the man's blunder, that he has the wrong girl and this is just a mistake on his part. As if to signal forgiveness, she makes a show of glancing around the room for someone who might look her age or build]
Because she's been assigned to this group? [A pause of her own] Yes, I can understand why you'd be worried then.
[ he hums quietly in agreement. She understands, but obviously isn't including herself in that observation... ]
It's a favor for a friend of mine. Though, speaking honestly, I would be concerned regardless. They shouldn't be assigning non-combatants here.
[ that much he believes honestly. There is no alternative but to listen; the enemy seems worse, and he's out of his element enough that contesting the decisions from higher-up is hard - he can offer no alternative with such a meager understanding of where they are and how they're proceeding in the first place. ]
[So he's correct. This girl isn't really a fighter -- just by all accounts, a tired wallflower]
Anyway, um... Your-- your friend must be very kind to ask you to do this. [What a fortunate girl, whoever she is. Two people looking out for her. It almost makes Sakura smile in dismay, but she hides it with a soft sigh, head already angled to stare at a floor again]
... I don't want to keep you from your search.
[Another attempt to see him off, a bit more urging now. If he's looking for someone, of course it doesn't make sense for him to talk shop with a random stranger, even if she's a non-combatant. That's fine by her. It's not as if she expected or even wanted to be a priority.]
[ he's good at reading people. He's also good at telling if people are lying or not - and while she's definitely telling the truth, she avoided replying to what he actually said. Disliking fighting is different from not being able to do it. There was a time when he'd disliked fighting, too, after all.
Bucciarati pauses, regarding her for a moment, then glances out at the crowd. ]
With this number of people, another set of eyes would be useful. [ his gaze goes back to her. ] What do you say to helping me search for her?
[ she's trying to get rid of him, he's aware, but he's stubborn. ]
Oh, she knows if she stood firm and made her feelings clear, she could probably chase him off, it's true. The man doesn't strike her as malicious, if nothing else. Sadly being assertive has never been the way she's conducted herself (never had a chance to), and the thought of open callousness makes her tongue dry with distaste.
Better to just... give in, like she always does.]
Okay... Until we find her. [Her tone doesn't sound too disappointed; she'll take it as a victory. A hand smooths down the front of her skirt as she adds a nod of consent as well, smiling in faint exhaustion]
You said you thought I was her -- does she look like me?
[If that's the case, best to comb the walls quick and see who else looks like they'd rather dig a grave than be here. Can't be too difficult.]
[ though his expression remains passive, he gives an approving nod. ]
... Well, it's busywork, but having something to do makes the time pass more quickly. I suspect it will take a while before they start boarding us.
[ he takes a step forward, glancing over at her to make sure she's coming with. ]
Yes. Although, now that I'm closer, I believe you're a few years older. Her hair should be lighter, too. [ he defaults to the only other teenage girl he actually knows: Trish. Obviously, he's lying, because Trish is nowhere to be seen here - but if she were here, he'd be looking for her, too. Just another white lie for the pile. ] But from afar, you had the same "sense" about you.
[ bruno what does that mean. he doesn't elaborate; instead looking over at her again. ]
[Dutifully she falls in line once Bruno begins to walk, a reluctant step behind him, half-wondering just what "sense" he's referring to... except then he's already moved onto the introductions before she can speculate, and--
and
and she can't. pronounce that last name.
Not at all.
Not even God could make her try.]
... Bruno-san.
[First name basis it is, then, much to her dismay. Well, that's what honorifics are for. And finally she's forced to crane her neck and look him in the eye, if only to match the name with a face. The audacity of his clothes aside, he's not... cruel-looking.
Just very intimidating despite that handsome face.
Her eyes drop right back to the floor.]
Sakura -- You can call me Sakura.
[... It's her turn to pick a topic, isn't it? Oh dear.]
[ oh, sakura. Literally no one but his mother ever calls him Bruno; hearing the name come from a near-stranger is unexpected enough that he can't hide his surprise, eyebrows raising briefly. He lets it go, however - firstly, it's not like he has any authority over her, and secondly, he has the strong sense that telling her to call him Bucciarati instead would probably just embarrass her. It doesn't really matter, anyway.
Of course, he already knew her name, but he's not about to tell her that. ]
Sakura, then. Thanks.
[ he's not exactly super sociable, but he was prepared to come up with something else to talk about to fill the space - it's unexpected but welcome that Sakura does, instead, considering how obvious it was (is) that she doesn't actually want to be here. ]
That's right. I'm from Italy. Naples, specifically. I presume you're from Japan.
[If only she knew the truth; Sakura would spare some apologies to Bruno's mother because even she is cringing on the inside.]
Mmhmm. Fuyuki, Japan.
[A relatively small city, all things considered -- certainly nothing to speak about, not compared to the likes of Tokyo. The only things of interest that happen there are secrets she cannot utter, even this far into the galaxy.
Still, it's relieving to know that she's conversing with a fellow Earthling. Fascinating as other planet cultures are, the less she has to explain about her home, the better.]
I've lived there my entire life, so... [Shoulders loosening, just a tad, as she gestures briefly to their surroundings. The variety of lifeforms, the briefing room, the ship.]
I admit, being here still feels like a dream sometimes.
[ his mom would probably think it was hilarious so no apologies are needed
unsurprisingly, he hasn't heard of Fuyuki - he's never even been outside of Italy, anyway, and considering his general lack of education and the fact that the Internet has only just started existing, Tokyo is probably the only Japanese city he'd actually be able to name. So he simply nods in response. ]
A dream, huh. [ close enough. He's been thinking of it as a sort of wild hallucination, but a dream works, too. ] Mm. Better a dream than a nightmare.
[ she's not afraid, he surmises, which is admirable. Bucciarati thinks the only reason he isn't is because he's become quite skilled at squashing any non-useful emotions into paste soon after he feels them. ]
Fuyuki is a small town? [ a beat. ] I can't say that living in the city prepared me for this any better.
No, compared to what she left back home, this is...
Well. Besides the faintest twitch from her mouth, there is no comment following that statement.
And despite the question posed to her, Sakura grows mute for a few seconds longer than is probably polite, only rousing herself back into the conversation after a careful sidestep, avoiding a collision with one of the many people now flooding into the conference room. It presses her slightly closer to her companion than she anticipates, but if nothing else, she's not so meanspirited as to use the opportunity to dart into the crowd]
Part of Fuyuki could be considered a city... across the river. There are many shops and businesses on that side. [Another pause, and then a delicate dip of her head]
I never really went there, so...
[For her, yes. It might as well have been a small pond.
It's nothing worth dwelling over, in her eyes. So once again, she moves the conversation along with far more assertiveness than she expects of herself (if only because she will wither the moment she's faced with an awkward pause.)]
[ he doesn't seem to mind; he doesn't even acknowledge it, in fact. It's to be expected with the crowds. Similarly, despite her fear of awkward pauses, Bucciarati seems perfectly fine with them - her long silence in the meanwhile as she formulates her answer passes by without even a flinch in his expression. Awkwardness, in general, is not something he's sensitive to. For better or for worse. ]
Mm. Not so much the city itself, but the people. There are a lot of us on this ship, but there's no replacing the neighborhood.
[ or his small circle of friends-slash-employees, for that matter, but he made his peace with leaving them long ago; now it's only a bittersweet ache to remember them. ]
It's unusual to never visit the other side of town. [ a pause. ] Were you afraid?
[ of crime, perhaps? the irony would be pretty thick. ]
[The concept of a neighborhood -- of any type of shared camaraderie between people, really -- is so alien that Sakura can only glance at Bruno from the corner of her eyes, a little mystified.
And that is to say nothing of the follow-up question. It isn't the type of inquiry she's expecting, and so rather than a pause, a half-truth stumbles from her mouth before she can consider it properly:]
Oh-- no, I--
[An abrupt pause, and then a slight cant of her shoulders into a shrug]
I don't... um, there was no one to go with. [Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, gaze blank and forward] What I mean is, I just kept to myself growing up, so there was no reason to visit the city.
[ this type of disconnect from society is nothing new to him; he's surrounded by people with history like this, or he was before he was on a spaceship, anyway. It's not like he was a particularly sociable kid, either. Unlike him, however, Sakura's answer makes him suspect that her homebody nature wasn't something she chose for herself. Parent trouble, perhaps - another problem that's nothing new to him. Regardless, he doesn't miss a beat, despite her awkward demeanor. ]
I see. Well, it's certainly no place to go alone.
[ just because it would be ironic if she was afraid doesn't mean it wouldn't also be sensible... although he's heard Japan is a pretty peaceful place. ]
It's nothing to be ashamed of. We don't choose where we're born. [ he looks over at her. ] If you're interested, I'm sure you'll get your chance to explore soon enough. Although an alien city might be even more intimidating.
[ as he speaks, his attention is drawn, briefly, to a beeping noise emanating from one of the ship attendant's communicators; it's not particularly loud, but he doesn't think he's heard that particular tone before, though it stops when they lift the device up to their ear. Time to go, maybe...? ]
... Maybe in the vague sense of being surrounded by a culture that is not her own, on a world that sees her as the alien, but Sakura is on a mission: find this girl with Bruno, and then make herself scarce. Once she's fulfilled her promise, it's likely she'll never see either of them again by virtue of refusing to leave her room unless absolutely necessary.
But she doesn't miss how Bruno's attention wanders for a brief second. Slowing her step, she glances around him and stares, wondering, at the ship attendant]
... Are we getting ready to leave already?
[If so -- this complicates matters. Her hope was to find this mystery girl before the mission started, not after. Their chances might dwindle if they're out on the field.]
at her question, his brow furrows, and he shakes his head faintly. ]
No... I don't think so.
[ on what basis does he not think so? Well, none, really, other than the fact that it's still early for them to be leaving - he has absolutely no idea what the protocol is for flying a spaceship, even a little one, despite his attempts to try and absorb some knowledge. They could be doing anything. Maybe they're ready to go early.
For a moment, that does seem to be the case. The operator says something into the communicator that Bucciarati can't make out, then lifts a hand, calling for everyone to start coming forward. He glances over at Sakura briefly, then, with the faintest of shrugs, starts to walk forward. Time to start brainstorming a better excuse to stick with her. She's definitely going to try and escape the first chance she gets - he can tell.
Unfortunately, he doesn't have much time for brainstorming. Out of nowhere, the entire deck suddenly shifts under his (and everyone's) feet as the ship itself shakes mightily, accompanied by a low and not-so-distant industrial grinding sound the likes of which he's never heard. Barely, he keeps his footing, one hand shooting out to grab her upper arm instinctively so she can keep hers, too. ]
What?!
[ that's all he gets out before a loud klaxon begins to blare. Clearly, something just happened... ]
We even have Exhibit A on why she should never bother socializing when this is what it gets her -- nearly jolted to the floor as the ship shakes (a collision?), barely managing to squeak out a sound of panic before Bruno has a hand on her arm. She's too frozen to be of much use, and once the sirens blare, her eyes remain wide-eyed and glazed.]
A-Ah--
[And that's of course when the chaos begins anew. The more panicked members of the group yell for explanations, and hordes of people are already shifting for the exits. It's for the best that Bruno has a grip on her; a stampede might break out if no one gives the crowd some answers.]
[ he doesn't respond - his attention is already split between the rumblings of the crowd, the flustered attendant trying to keep everyone orderly (while clearly being bewildered herself), and the grinding noise, which hasn't ceased, though it's quieted from the initial impact. The operator has a hand raised, and she's talking loudly over the group, telling everyone to start boarding, something which they're all too happy to do. Bucciarati keeps a firm grip on Sakura's arm as the sea of other transplants begins to sweep towards the secondary ship's docking entrance. He himself, however, isn't moving.
It would not do to get caught in a crush on the way into the ship. Besides, he has a bad feeling about all of this. After a moment of crowd-jostling, he looks over at her again, stern expression not entirely concealing his slight anxiety. ]
... Stay close. I have a way for us to get out. You might not understand what you see, but you can't--
[ whatever he's about to say is interrupted by the grinding sound coming to a head; suddenly, a piece of metal plating rockets from the floor into the ceiling, embedding itself there, as some kind of enormous tube-like structure pulses up from the bottom of the ship. It looks halfway between a tree root and an enormous leech, and as it surges up into the open space, it begins leaning over until it flops onto the deck with a wet noise. The sight is disgusting, but not entirely unfamiliar. The imperial fleet, after all, was an entity, its ships living, and while he's never seen this particular... thing, he recognizes the "design," such as it is. They're under attack right now. The others recognize it too, clearly; panic sets in, with some immediately rushing towards the ship and others pushing forward to fight. A bulge can be seen pushing through the root, like food swallowed by a snake, undoubtedly containing imperial soldiers prepared to fight as soon as they're spit out. ]
She should be brought to her knees in terror. A number of her fellow civilians are already doing their best to rush for the exits, for the walls if it will grant them escape, and a distant part of mind agrees with their panic. The organic nature of the ships is usually just a passing thought for those living upon them; having to see the squirming proof of their sentience is jarring, like having the walls of your home turned against you.
... Maybe that's why she can only manage a stiff, blank expression of discomfort at that root that reminds her of so many of the worms she saw in her childhood. Hideous in its familiarity. A reminder to keep a tight reign on her crest before it smells the danger its host is in.
There's a tug on Bruno's arm. Apparently, she is not eager to leave his side anymore.]
We have to go.
[To where, she doesn't know. Is it possible to escape when so many soldiers will be vomited into the room? Running might be a delayed death under these circumstances, but he promised her escape. So she waits patiently amongst the chaos, eyes quietly turned on him]
[ he's expecting her to panic, considering how she'd seemed nervous simply talking to him before - he's nervous, even if he's keeping a cool head. But no - she's completely straight-faced. There's little doubt in his mind that this reaction could only result from a difficult past; even so, he sees it as a mark of strength. It's a sign she learned to survive. She won't be waiting on him long; he doesn't bother replying, instead calling out his Stand at once, which launches a fist at the ground. The impact leaves in its wake what looks like a giant zipper - and it's soon proven to be exactly that as it opens up of its own accord. Bruno doesn't waste any time, tightening his grip on Sakura's arm and jumping through it with her.
It's fortunate that he has a general idea of how the ship is laid out, even if he doesn't understand the details. How much of this was purely luck will stay with him. After passing briefly through a sort of liminal space, they pop out approximately a floor below, dropping down onto what looks like a sort of engineering tunnel. The sound of the alarm is echoing even in the narrow hallway. The crowds, however, are gone; they're alone in the passage, save for the trunk of one of the roots coursing from the floor through the ceiling towards the area they just left. ]
This way. We can get in through the back. If nothing else, there should be escape pods.
[-- And to think, Sakura had the nerve to assume the surprises would end at a sentient root nearly dissecting their space ship.
But no, now there's a strange creature punching zippers into the floor. Bruno gives her no quarter, either, immediately dragging her through what she can only assume is a dimensional pocket (???), one that spits them out at a predetermined location and would have left her stumbling if not for Bruno's grip on her arm.]
Wha--?
[She has so many, many complaints about all of this (all of which would go straight over her companion's head, he's not a magus, he wouldn't understand why this is a cosmically sick joke she's been shown) -- but there is no time for it, the hallway won't stay clear forever. Even though the idea of having to escape into the vastness of space leaves her heart in her throat, Sakura doesn't dawdle in her haste. She has to survive.
It's the only thing she knows how to do.]
B-but what about your friend? The girl?
[Looking wildly over her shoulder as she follows the other. Listen, she cannot say with confidence that she'd be willing to turn back for a stranger, but at the very least, it seems important to remind Bruno, no matter the iron grip she has on the back of his jacket]
[ so there is a limit to what she'll just silently accept - he supposes that if anything were too strange to believe, it would be Stands, especially if one can't actually see what's happening, as Bucciarati assumes she can't. She's given him no reason to think she's got anything to do with the supernatural at all. Once they're back on solid ground, he takes a step forward, though he keeps a firm grasp on her arm. ]
It's a power I have. Don't be afraid.
[ that's all he offers in explanation - the rest can come later if she needs to hear it. He starts moving, hurrying with her in tow around the unsettling alien structure lodged through the flooring. Distantly above, the sounds of gunfire can be heard.
It doesn't feel good to leave people up there, but he's not stupid enough to think he can save everyone by himself. Were he to run back in, he'd just get himself killed. There's no one up there that he knows is depending on him - despite Sakura's urgent question. He glances over his shoulder at her, briefly. ]
[Mouth dropping open in slight shock, only for her teeth to click shut when another rumble of gunfire thunders overhead. Her heart trembles inside her ribcage -- not from panic, not yet, she can't afford to drown in fear, but there's suddenly too many variables that require her attention, and that's to say nothing of that steady, unyielding grip on her arm. For whatever reason, Bruno means to prioritize her life.]
I don't understand, why me--
[She knows it's childish to want an answer when all their efforts should be focused on escape. The question slips out anyway, unbidden, and then is soon lost in a second rumble of noise when the parasitic structure begin to bulge outward in their corridor, like it's ready to rupture out a new wave of soldiers if they don't hurry.
If nothing else, that is all the motivation Sakura needs to stay quiet and keep pace, blindly following wherever Bruno chooses to lead her.]
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You really can get used to anything. It's probably easier when you don't have a life to go back to in the first place. Here, they keep him busy, and that keeps him moving forward. That, and the knowledge that everyone back home is depending on him in some way. The people here, too, had come to mean something to him, which leads him to his current "mission," so to speak.
Word is that the rapidly-expanding imperial fleet that they were on the run from had already gotten ahold of their current location. That meant they'd have to split up and disperse to keep the enemy from knowing their destination. But, as always, one group would have to be the bait - and, wouldn't you know it, that group consisted largely of "refugees" like himself. A friend of his had told him there was a certain someone that got assigned to his group that really wasn't cut out for jobs like this - and, bleeding heart that he is, of course he listened. ]
Did you drop this?
[ they're heading out in a few hours, which means people are already starting to gather; Bruno spots her easily enough, based on the description he'd been given, and holds a coin out to her. A 100 lire coin, to be exact, which means it's almost definitely not hers unless she collects defunct European currency, but this ostentatiously-dressed man is asking quite seriously. ]
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Sakura has never even seen currency like that before.
And yet her initial reply is silence of all things, her head slowly turned in the direction of this tall man with his hand held out. The manner of his dress earns a lingering stare, at least, mouth paused in a half-breath of surprise. Eventually, however, it's clear that the sight of him won't automatically dislodge a conversation out of the young woman. Speaking -- engagement with anyone, really -- does not seem to be one of her strengths.
Perhaps it's no surprise Bruno had been asked to look over her.]
... I'm sorry, but... it isn't mine.
[Glancing to the side, rubbing quietly at her arm, shoulders hunching slightly by her ears: all efforts to appear small and beneath attention. If not for the fact more people were funneling into the debriefing hall, it wouldn't be out of the question to expect her to flee. Whether due to manners or just a lack of energy, she will at least stand her ground, but as far as conversing goes:]
... I'm sorry.
[Yeah, she might just keep apologizing until he leaves.]
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[ this is exactly why he invented a reason to talk to her. Bucciarati is good at reading body language, and he's no stranger to shy types - they didn't exist within the mafia, no, but there were plenty in his little community, and they were often the most vulnerable, easy to push around and manipulate. He couldn't protect everyone, but he knew who to look out for, at least. So yes, he understands immediately - and thinks that it's good to know that Sakura has people looking out for her, too. Without much fanfare, he drops his hand, tucking both into his pockets. ]
Of course not. It would be odd for a Japanese girl to carry Italian currency around. [ he tilts his head at her. Clearly, all the very obvious signs she doesn't want to talk aren't deterring him... ] But that was my mistake. Have you done something you need to be apologizing for?
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... Well, seeing as she can't bring herself to be so rude as to go completely mute, she's effectively stuck in pleasantries with a stranger. Her brows knit slightly, gaze angled down at the ground rather than his face, shrinking further in her attempt not to fidget]
I'm sorry, it's just a force of habit.
[Japanese mannerisms and all. They do tend to preface many of their conversations with apologies no matter whose is at fault. Or perhaps she's just being the tiniest bit sassy since she can't escape.]
... Are you looking for someone, then?
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[ that aside. he's not unaware that he's boxed her in a bit - which might be his own bad force of habit. Usually, when he has to find people, it's because he needs to beat them up, not look after them in some way. At least he hasn't cornered her against a wall or anything; he's made sure there's space for her to get away. This isn't a shakedown!
It's... something. He's left debating if he should be honest with her, but decides that telling her yes, you would probably freak her out more. So he nods, glancing off to the side briefly. ]
I am. A girl around your age. I thought you might be her, but I was mistaken. [ a beat. ] I'm concerned for her safety.
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Not that it matters here. "Liberated" from her world in the name of pointless salvation, Sakura had made it her business to keep out of the public eye while living on the ship, always on the lookout for a corner to hide in. If any people here actually consider her a friend, it's likely just a kind formality on the other person's part -- she would never dare assume anyone cared enough to want her safe.
It's why she easily acknowledges the man's blunder, that he has the wrong girl and this is just a mistake on his part. As if to signal forgiveness, she makes a show of glancing around the room for someone who might look her age or build]
Because she's been assigned to this group? [A pause of her own] Yes, I can understand why you'd be worried then.
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It's a favor for a friend of mine. Though, speaking honestly, I would be concerned regardless. They shouldn't be assigning non-combatants here.
[ that much he believes honestly. There is no alternative but to listen; the enemy seems worse, and he's out of his element enough that contesting the decisions from higher-up is hard - he can offer no alternative with such a meager understanding of where they are and how they're proceeding in the first place. ]
You don't look like a fighter, either.
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...]
I dislike fights, yes.
[So he's correct. This girl isn't really a fighter -- just by all accounts, a tired wallflower]
Anyway, um... Your-- your friend must be very kind to ask you to do this. [What a fortunate girl, whoever she is. Two people looking out for her. It almost makes Sakura smile in dismay, but she hides it with a soft sigh, head already angled to stare at a floor again]
... I don't want to keep you from your search.
[Another attempt to see him off, a bit more urging now. If he's looking for someone, of course it doesn't make sense for him to talk shop with a random stranger, even if she's a non-combatant. That's fine by her. It's not as if she expected or even wanted to be a priority.]
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Bucciarati pauses, regarding her for a moment, then glances out at the crowd. ]
With this number of people, another set of eyes would be useful. [ his gaze goes back to her. ] What do you say to helping me search for her?
[ she's trying to get rid of him, he's aware, but he's stubborn. ]
If we find her, I'll pay you back when we land.
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Oh, she knows if she stood firm and made her feelings clear, she could probably chase him off, it's true. The man doesn't strike her as malicious, if nothing else. Sadly being assertive has never been the way she's conducted herself (never had a chance to), and the thought of open callousness makes her tongue dry with distaste.
Better to just... give in, like she always does.]
Okay... Until we find her. [Her tone doesn't sound too disappointed; she'll take it as a victory. A hand smooths down the front of her skirt as she adds a nod of consent as well, smiling in faint exhaustion]
You said you thought I was her -- does she look like me?
[If that's the case, best to comb the walls quick and see who else looks like they'd rather dig a grave than be here. Can't be too difficult.]
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... Well, it's busywork, but having something to do makes the time pass more quickly. I suspect it will take a while before they start boarding us.
[ he takes a step forward, glancing over at her to make sure she's coming with. ]
Yes. Although, now that I'm closer, I believe you're a few years older. Her hair should be lighter, too. [ he defaults to the only other teenage girl he actually knows: Trish. Obviously, he's lying, because Trish is nowhere to be seen here - but if she were here, he'd be looking for her, too. Just another white lie for the pile. ] But from afar, you had the same "sense" about you.
[ bruno what does that mean. he doesn't elaborate; instead looking over at her again. ]
By the way, my name is Bruno Bucciarati. You are?
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and
and she can't. pronounce that last name.
Not at all.
Not even God could make her try.]
... Bruno-san.
[First name basis it is, then, much to her dismay. Well, that's what honorifics are for. And finally she's forced to crane her neck and look him in the eye, if only to match the name with a face. The audacity of his clothes aside, he's not... cruel-looking.
Just very intimidating despite that handsome face.
Her eyes drop right back to the floor.]
Sakura -- You can call me Sakura.
[... It's her turn to pick a topic, isn't it? Oh dear.]
I-- um. You're from Earth?
IM CRYING sakura........
Of course, he already knew her name, but he's not about to tell her that. ]
Sakura, then. Thanks.
[ he's not exactly super sociable, but he was prepared to come up with something else to talk about to fill the space - it's unexpected but welcome that Sakura does, instead, considering how obvious it was (is) that she doesn't actually want to be here. ]
That's right. I'm from Italy. Naples, specifically. I presume you're from Japan.
she is out here trying her best
Mmhmm. Fuyuki, Japan.
[A relatively small city, all things considered -- certainly nothing to speak about, not compared to the likes of Tokyo. The only things of interest that happen there are secrets she cannot utter, even this far into the galaxy.
Still, it's relieving to know that she's conversing with a fellow Earthling. Fascinating as other planet cultures are, the less she has to explain about her home, the better.]
I've lived there my entire life, so... [Shoulders loosening, just a tad, as she gestures briefly to their surroundings. The variety of lifeforms, the briefing room, the ship.]
I admit, being here still feels like a dream sometimes.
i'm proud of her
unsurprisingly, he hasn't heard of Fuyuki - he's never even been outside of Italy, anyway, and considering his general lack of education and the fact that the Internet has only just started existing, Tokyo is probably the only Japanese city he'd actually be able to name. So he simply nods in response. ]
A dream, huh. [ close enough. He's been thinking of it as a sort of wild hallucination, but a dream works, too. ] Mm. Better a dream than a nightmare.
[ she's not afraid, he surmises, which is admirable. Bucciarati thinks the only reason he isn't is because he's become quite skilled at squashing any non-useful emotions into paste soon after he feels them. ]
Fuyuki is a small town? [ a beat. ] I can't say that living in the city prepared me for this any better.
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No, compared to what she left back home, this is...
Well. Besides the faintest twitch from her mouth, there is no comment following that statement.
And despite the question posed to her, Sakura grows mute for a few seconds longer than is probably polite, only rousing herself back into the conversation after a careful sidestep, avoiding a collision with one of the many people now flooding into the conference room. It presses her slightly closer to her companion than she anticipates, but if nothing else, she's not so meanspirited as to use the opportunity to dart into the crowd]
Part of Fuyuki could be considered a city... across the river. There are many shops and businesses on that side. [Another pause, and then a delicate dip of her head]
I never really went there, so...
[For her, yes. It might as well have been a small pond.
It's nothing worth dwelling over, in her eyes. So once again, she moves the conversation along with far more assertiveness than she expects of herself (if only because she will wither the moment she's faced with an awkward pause.)]
Do you miss it? Being in a city, I mean...
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Mm. Not so much the city itself, but the people. There are a lot of us on this ship, but there's no replacing the neighborhood.
[ or his small circle of friends-slash-employees, for that matter, but he made his peace with leaving them long ago; now it's only a bittersweet ache to remember them. ]
It's unusual to never visit the other side of town. [ a pause. ] Were you afraid?
[ of crime, perhaps? the irony would be pretty thick. ]
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And that is to say nothing of the follow-up question. It isn't the type of inquiry she's expecting, and so rather than a pause, a half-truth stumbles from her mouth before she can consider it properly:]
Oh-- no, I--
[An abrupt pause, and then a slight cant of her shoulders into a shrug]
I don't... um, there was no one to go with. [Tucking a piece of hair behind her ear, gaze blank and forward] What I mean is, I just kept to myself growing up, so there was no reason to visit the city.
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I see. Well, it's certainly no place to go alone.
[ just because it would be ironic if she was afraid doesn't mean it wouldn't also be sensible... although he's heard Japan is a pretty peaceful place. ]
It's nothing to be ashamed of. We don't choose where we're born. [ he looks over at her. ] If you're interested, I'm sure you'll get your chance to explore soon enough. Although an alien city might be even more intimidating.
[ as he speaks, his attention is drawn, briefly, to a beeping noise emanating from one of the ship attendant's communicators; it's not particularly loud, but he doesn't think he's heard that particular tone before, though it stops when they lift the device up to their ear. Time to go, maybe...? ]
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... Maybe in the vague sense of being surrounded by a culture that is not her own, on a world that sees her as the alien, but Sakura is on a mission: find this girl with Bruno, and then make herself scarce. Once she's fulfilled her promise, it's likely she'll never see either of them again by virtue of refusing to leave her room unless absolutely necessary.
But she doesn't miss how Bruno's attention wanders for a brief second. Slowing her step, she glances around him and stares, wondering, at the ship attendant]
... Are we getting ready to leave already?
[If so -- this complicates matters. Her hope was to find this mystery girl before the mission started, not after. Their chances might dwindle if they're out on the field.]
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at her question, his brow furrows, and he shakes his head faintly. ]
No... I don't think so.
[ on what basis does he not think so? Well, none, really, other than the fact that it's still early for them to be leaving - he has absolutely no idea what the protocol is for flying a spaceship, even a little one, despite his attempts to try and absorb some knowledge. They could be doing anything. Maybe they're ready to go early.
For a moment, that does seem to be the case. The operator says something into the communicator that Bucciarati can't make out, then lifts a hand, calling for everyone to start coming forward. He glances over at Sakura briefly, then, with the faintest of shrugs, starts to walk forward. Time to start brainstorming a better excuse to stick with her. She's definitely going to try and escape the first chance she gets - he can tell.
Unfortunately, he doesn't have much time for brainstorming. Out of nowhere, the entire deck suddenly shifts under his (and everyone's) feet as the ship itself shakes mightily, accompanied by a low and not-so-distant industrial grinding sound the likes of which he's never heard. Barely, he keeps his footing, one hand shooting out to grab her upper arm instinctively so she can keep hers, too. ]
What?!
[ that's all he gets out before a loud klaxon begins to blare. Clearly, something just happened... ]
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We even have Exhibit A on why she should never bother socializing when this is what it gets her -- nearly jolted to the floor as the ship shakes (a collision?), barely managing to squeak out a sound of panic before Bruno has a hand on her arm. She's too frozen to be of much use, and once the sirens blare, her eyes remain wide-eyed and glazed.]
A-Ah--
[And that's of course when the chaos begins anew. The more panicked members of the group yell for explanations, and hordes of people are already shifting for the exits. It's for the best that Bruno has a grip on her; a stampede might break out if no one gives the crowd some answers.]
B-bruno-san, should we leave?
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It would not do to get caught in a crush on the way into the ship. Besides, he has a bad feeling about all of this. After a moment of crowd-jostling, he looks over at her again, stern expression not entirely concealing his slight anxiety. ]
... Stay close. I have a way for us to get out. You might not understand what you see, but you can't--
[ whatever he's about to say is interrupted by the grinding sound coming to a head; suddenly, a piece of metal plating rockets from the floor into the ceiling, embedding itself there, as some kind of enormous tube-like structure pulses up from the bottom of the ship. It looks halfway between a tree root and an enormous leech, and as it surges up into the open space, it begins leaning over until it flops onto the deck with a wet noise. The sight is disgusting, but not entirely unfamiliar. The imperial fleet, after all, was an entity, its ships living, and while he's never seen this particular... thing, he recognizes the "design," such as it is. They're under attack right now. The others recognize it too, clearly; panic sets in, with some immediately rushing towards the ship and others pushing forward to fight. A bulge can be seen pushing through the root, like food swallowed by a snake, undoubtedly containing imperial soldiers prepared to fight as soon as they're spit out. ]
GOOD LORD
She should be brought to her knees in terror. A number of her fellow civilians are already doing their best to rush for the exits, for the walls if it will grant them escape, and a distant part of mind agrees with their panic. The organic nature of the ships is usually just a passing thought for those living upon them; having to see the squirming proof of their sentience is jarring, like having the walls of your home turned against you.
... Maybe that's why she can only manage a stiff, blank expression of discomfort at that root that reminds her of so many of the worms she saw in her childhood. Hideous in its familiarity. A reminder to keep a tight reign on her crest before it smells the danger its host is in.
There's a tug on Bruno's arm. Apparently, she is not eager to leave his side anymore.]
We have to go.
[To where, she doesn't know. Is it possible to escape when so many soldiers will be vomited into the room? Running might be a delayed death under these circumstances, but he promised her escape. So she waits patiently amongst the chaos, eyes quietly turned on him]
ME SLAPPIN THE DANGER BUTTON
It's fortunate that he has a general idea of how the ship is laid out, even if he doesn't understand the details. How much of this was purely luck will stay with him. After passing briefly through a sort of liminal space, they pop out approximately a floor below, dropping down onto what looks like a sort of engineering tunnel. The sound of the alarm is echoing even in the narrow hallway. The crowds, however, are gone; they're alone in the passage, save for the trunk of one of the roots coursing from the floor through the ceiling towards the area they just left. ]
This way. We can get in through the back. If nothing else, there should be escape pods.
[ but they better hurry... ]
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But no, now there's a strange creature punching zippers into the floor. Bruno gives her no quarter, either, immediately dragging her through what she can only assume is a dimensional pocket (???), one that spits them out at a predetermined location and would have left her stumbling if not for Bruno's grip on her arm.]
Wha--?
[She has so many, many complaints about all of this (all of which would go straight over her companion's head, he's not a magus, he wouldn't understand why this is a cosmically sick joke she's been shown) -- but there is no time for it, the hallway won't stay clear forever. Even though the idea of having to escape into the vastness of space leaves her heart in her throat, Sakura doesn't dawdle in her haste. She has to survive.
It's the only thing she knows how to do.]
B-but what about your friend? The girl?
[Looking wildly over her shoulder as she follows the other. Listen, she cannot say with confidence that she'd be willing to turn back for a stranger, but at the very least, it seems important to remind Bruno, no matter the iron grip she has on the back of his jacket]
UERGH i'm alive
It's a power I have. Don't be afraid.
[ that's all he offers in explanation - the rest can come later if she needs to hear it. He starts moving, hurrying with her in tow around the unsettling alien structure lodged through the flooring. Distantly above, the sounds of gunfire can be heard.
It doesn't feel good to leave people up there, but he's not stupid enough to think he can save everyone by himself. Were he to run back in, he'd just get himself killed. There's no one up there that he knows is depending on him - despite Sakura's urgent question. He glances over his shoulder at her, briefly. ]
That was a lie.
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[Mouth dropping open in slight shock, only for her teeth to click shut when another rumble of gunfire thunders overhead. Her heart trembles inside her ribcage -- not from panic, not yet, she can't afford to drown in fear, but there's suddenly too many variables that require her attention, and that's to say nothing of that steady, unyielding grip on her arm. For whatever reason, Bruno means to prioritize her life.]
I don't understand, why me--
[She knows it's childish to want an answer when all their efforts should be focused on escape. The question slips out anyway, unbidden, and then is soon lost in a second rumble of noise when the parasitic structure begin to bulge outward in their corridor, like it's ready to rupture out a new wave of soldiers if they don't hurry.
If nothing else, that is all the motivation Sakura needs to stay quiet and keep pace, blindly following wherever Bruno chooses to lead her.]