genessia | [Action, Closed]

Entry tags:

[Action, Closed]

Who: 47 and Orihime
What: 47 has a present for Orihime
Where: 47's house
when: Sunday, August 5
Warnings: Guns. Will add more if they come up.

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((How do you even do a text within a log? Time to improvise I guess!))

With his gift in a loose pile on the table in front of him, 47 begins tapping at his communicator to send a private message to his friend:

[Orihime, your shirt is ready. Do you have time to come pick it up?] He puts his address in the next line. Then, after a moment of thought, an addition:

[On a related note, you're not scared of guns or anything like that, are you?] There, done. He sends it off and grabs the present, ready to start setting things up around the back if he gets an affirmative answer.

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It took a few minutes for the response, but soon enough, there was a chime to indicate that his phone had received a text.

Be there soon! :) Bringing more bread!

He'd shopped at her bakery often enough that she could remember what kinds he liked best and made certain to pick up a few loaves. It was a lot more than one man could eat, even at 47's size, but Orihime's appetite for baked goods was legendary, so who knew? Maybe that's how much bread she ate.

When she arrived, plastic bag in hand stuffed with a few loaves and several dinner rolls, she was surprised to see how small his house was. Could he even fit inside one of those...? She rubbed the back of her head, growing worried. Maybe his greenhouse business was struggling more than she realized. He wasn't living in a cardboard box at least, but still. She made a note to start buying more flowers to give him a financial boost.

Stepping up to the house, she knocked on the door. "Ford-san! It's me!"

"Back here!" 47's voice calls from behind the house. He doesn't really have a "back yard", per se, but there is some empty space back there with some natural privacy. Enough for what they're doing, at least.

If Orihime follows the sound of his voice, she'll find 47 rummaging with some things on a folding table. He's dispensed with a jacket and tie for today, but still dressed fairly sharply in a button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and atop that... a sort of harness-suspender contraption that holds a suppressed handgun in a holster at each side of his body. He's acting pretty casual about it, not making any move to draw them, but.. yes, he asked her about a fear of guns for good reason.

At the other end of the "yard", 47 has set up some cheap plywood, with a couple of nails driven into it, roughly level with each other. There's a piece of string stretched between them, and clipped to that with a couple of clothespins... well, 47 said "shirt", but that's clearly a lightweight pullover hoodie with a large kangaroo pocket. It's silvery-lavender (or perhaps purplish-silver?) in color, with an iridescent shimmer.

47 gestures at the hoodie.

"There it is. But before I hand it over, I'd like to show you why it's special."

She never did say whether or not she was scared of guns. She must have forgotten that part. Apparently she's not afraid since she wasn't flinching or shrinking back. Orihime was instead staring at the gun harness, suddenly very curious about 47's hobbies. He'd said he was a businessman. Was he a gun enthusiast too?

Her head turned, her gaze broken, when he made a motion at the hoodie in question. It made her dark eyes widen a little further at the sight as a noise of appreciation escaped her open mouth.

"Oooohhhh...wow, look at the fabric...! I love it!" It looked as if it had some kind of really expensive silk woven into it. Orihime took a step toward the display, eager to feel it out and determine just what it was made of, but she stopped short at his words.

"Special, Ford-san?"

"I'm glad you like it." And he sounds sincere about that, even if he doesn't smile. "I should have asked you about your preferred color, but I forgot about that until it was too late." At her question, he nods, and self-satisfaction begins to creep into his voice. He's proud of what he's put together.

"I told you it wasn't something you could make yourself. Here." He beckons her back with a hand. "Behind the table, with me. Put these on." 47 opens his hand, revealing four cheap foam earplugs, the kind that come hundreds to a box and are only meant to be used once. (Of course, he's not expecting her to take all four -- two of them are for him.) "And make sure you stand to my left, I wouldn't want the hot shell to hit you."

Hot shell...?

"No, I love it. There's a big difference!" she beamed up at him, her eyes twinkling with humor. They'd known each other long enough that it was a lot easier for her to read the emotions that didn't show on his face. Maybe she couldn't pick up everything, but she could at least tell when he was happy or amused. If she ever did get him to smile, she'd count it as a triumph. And if he laughed? That would be a grand victory indeed!

She shook her head in regard to the color and gazed at the hoodie once more. "No no, it's perfect! I don't really have a favorite if I'm being honest, they're all pretty. The silvery sheen makes it even better!" Obediently she trotted to his side and looked down at the earplugs. It wasn't too hard to figure out what he wanted her to do, so she picked up a pair and went to his right--whoops, to his left!

"I didn't know the shells were discharged hot," she admitted, before fitting in the earplugs snugly. "Ready!"

47 nods (he can explain all about the mechanics of guns later if she wants to hear about it) and places his own pair in his ears. With the suppressors on, the guns shouldn't be too loud, but still, better to be safe when you have the luxury. Especially with how young Orihime is; he doesn't want to damage her hearing.

Slowly, he draws his right-handed pistol with one hand and aims it at the center of the hoodie. With a steady squeeze of the trigger, as natural to him as walking... bang! Even the sound of a .45 isn't too bad with both a suppressor and ear protection.

Meanwhile, it might be hard to tell because of the speed, but the bullet just... bounces off the hoodie, all of its energy suddenly stolen, and lands harmlessly in the grass. The hoodie itself is no worse for wear, except for a now brightly glowing spot where the bullet hit it, though it begins to slowly fade as the seconds pass.

He replaces the gun in its holster and takes out his earplugs.

"All clear," 47 speaks up a little to make sure Orihime can hear him through her own.

Orihime stood with her hands lightly clasped behind her back, watching the hoodie as he'd meant her to do. But when he drew his gun, her glance stole to the side in brief, quick little flicks. The stance looked very natural to him, and it was clear that he was comfortable holding a gun.

Maybe shooting a gun was more than a hobby for him.

She smiled a little to herself, then jumped visibly at the shot. It wasn't all that loud with the suppressor and earplugs, but it was sudden enough to startle her. Though she didn't see where the bullet fell, she did see the ripple of light from the impact, and the hoodie didn't have a single fiber ripped up or dislodged. She rocked forward, eager to get a better look, but didn't move forward until she heard him give the go ahead. Popping out her earplugs she darted forward, amazed.

"That's incredible, Ford-san... How did it do that?" she grinned over her shoulder, carefully brushing her fingers over the front of the hoodie. It felt light, and smooth; not at all the heavy stiffness she expected from something bulletproof. "Is it technology? An enchantment?"

He approaches as well, stopping when he's at her side, at a conversational distance.

"There's a material in Nova City that's strong enough to be used as armor, but thin, flexible, and lightweight enough to be woven into normal clothing." And prohibitively expensive; even with 47 making much more than he spends, the material and enchantments together wiped out several months of savings. Not that he minds, so he won't mention it. The look on Orihime's face when she saw it, and the peace of mind he'll get knowing she's that much safer, make it all worth it.

"I went to Fayren to get further protective enchantments on it. One of them is what you just saw; it turns the force of the bullet into light instead of just spreading it out." So in a way, it's both; a blend of technology and enchantment that's only possible in a place like Genessia.

Orihime was quiet, idly rubbing the fabric between her thumb and forefinger. This must have cost a fortune. If it was indeed several months of savings pored into its construction, then she had underestimated the cost even then. He'd bought this for her, even though he was living in this little house by himself, even though he was running his own business. It wasn't just a bauble either. Pretty as it was, the hoodie was designed for protection. To keep her safe.

She would have been an idiot not to realize the unspoken message in a gift like this. Not only did he value her safety, but he was also supporting her efforts to be a good deputy guardian. It meant so much to her. She didn't feel she'd done anything particularly special to deserve that kind of care. Didn't she owe him, then, to put all of her heart and strength into being the best deputy she could possibly be, to protect him and the people he cared for in his life? To make him proud to be her friend?

"You're a very kind person, Ford-san." She took a breath and smiled up at him. It was a quiet, subdued little smile, but it was absolutely genuine. "I'll wear it with gratitude and pride. Thank you. Really, thank you so much."

He sort of gives an awkward nod of acknowledgement to Orihime's gratitude. There's that word again. 'Kind'. 47 doesn't understand why that word; generous, he'd accept, even agree with, but kind? But perhaps they just have different ideas of kindness; to him, kind implies a sort of warmth he doesn't have. An emotional generosity as opposed to his physical one.

"Good. It won't do you much good if you don't wear it." It's a joke, though he is glad that he won't have to ask her to wear it if she's heading into danger. It seems she understands that much. He reaches up to take the hoodie down, loosely folds it into a rectangle, and holds it out for her to take. "It's machine washable cold, by the way." Because that would come up eventually (and being custom-made, it has no tag to tell her so).

"Okay. I'll take good care of it!" she promised with a smile, hugging the jacket to her chest. There would be nothing she treasured more in her little apartment, she knew that much.

Still, she wished there were something more she could do for him. He'd always supported her, and she had yet to do anything more than sell him freshly baked bread. It didn't seem all that fair.

"...How are you doing, Ford-san? Are you managing okay? Are you living comfortably?" Maybe there was something bothering him that she could take care of in return for his gift.

She might not know it, but 47 feels that she's massively supported him just by being a friend to him. He feels a bit bad knowing that he can't do it quite the same way, with his lack of emotional intelligence, so he's basically been trying to make up for it by throwing money and nice things at her. Expressing his appreciation in a more material way.

At her question, he shakes his head. Not a "no", but:

"I have no complaints. I'm much happier here than I ever was in my world." The irrational fear that someone will figure out who he is and what he's done still lingers over his head, but he knows that it's just that: Irrational. As long as nobody that knows who he is shows up from his world, it should be fine.

He glances over at the house, with an amused and slightly self-depreciating look.

"It's small, but I don't need any more than this. I'm comfortable here." He pauses, and this is where a normal person would chuckle as they lead into something funny, but considering 47's dark, understated sense of humor.... "I've lived in worse places." Like flophouses and a literal sewer. Yes, he's pretty happy with his house, as tiny as it is.

She was watching his face carefully. He was so good at hiding emotions, probably better than Orihime herself! Did he really mean what he said? Was he just pretending so she wouldn't worry?

As far as she could tell, though, there did seem to be a sort of quiet peace and satisfaction in his reactions. He'd even said he was happy here, and that helped a lot to soothe her concerns.

Her head turned to look at the house when he did. Small but all he needed... "It is kind of cute," she admitted. Probably not the word he'd want to hear, but that was the truth of it.

Orihime exhaled, and relaxed.

"You're really happy here, then? You don't need anything else?"

He shakes his head, face arranged in the closest thing he has to a smile.

"Everything's fine, don't worry." He's never thought of his house as 'cute', simply because it's a word more for small fluffy animals than inanimate objects and buildings for him, but he doesn't mind her saying so. And speaking of the 'cute' house....

"Would you like to come inside for a bit?" He'll have to put up that bread she brought for him, anyway, the bread they've both gotten distracted from until now. Just let 47 find and collect his spent bullet and shell first.

"Yes, please!" Orihime replied enthusiastically. The house didn't seem like it was all that big on the outside, but maybe the inside was a different story. It wasn't as if her own apartment was all that big either. Even the one she'd lived in back home was smaller than the shipping container house. But she had just (incorrectly) assumed that, as an international businessman, he was probably accustomed to bigger and better things.

She stepped forward, but stopped to wait for him as he stooped to pick up something from the grass. Oh, the bullets, she almost forgot about those.

Once she had a good look at what was inside his house, she'd have a better idea of his own tastes -- then she could send him a gift in return!

He guides her back to the front door, opens it up, and lets her inside. As cramped as it is, it looks like a comfortable place to live for one person without too many possessions. There's a couch and a coffee table facing a TV, with a table and chairs between it and the kitchen, and a door at each end of the... hallway (calling it anything more than a somewhat wide, furnished hallway would be generous) hiding whatever lies beyond. One of the chairs has a bit of clutter on it, which 47 quickly goes to clean up.

"I can lock these up if you'd prefer." He bobs his head at the guns holstered at his sides.

Naturally, Orihime slipped her shoes off after stepping inside, and took a good look around. Wow...it seemed a lot bigger on the inside than the outside, this was a very cunning layout!

"Wow, this is awesome... Now I kind of wish I'd thought to look here first before asking for an apartment above the bakery, ha ha!" She pretended not to notice his cleaning of the chair. It could hardly be considered a mess, but it was charming that her big bald friend was in a rush to tidy one small spot.

"Oh no, that's fine," she waved her hand at his offer. "I'm used to people walking around with swords, guns aren't really any different." Her hands came down to clasp loosely in front of her. "Honestly I was a little surprised to find out that you knew how to handle one. You looked like an expert!"

Ordinarily she would have asked him point blank about his skills, but he hadn't mentioned them at all when they first met, so she suspected it was probably something private. This way she could probe a little and see if he was open to discussing it now that they knew each other better.

"I think they're a little different." He shakes his head, though his tone is amused. They're both weapons and both, presumably, made of metal, and... that's it. Those are the only major similarities he can think of.

47 pauses, seemingly staring into space as his expression grows more serious. Then, slowly....

"You remember when I told you I was a contractor? And that I wasn't happy with the work I was doing?" A sigh. "The guns have to do with that. I needed them for work." Hopefully she won't put two and two together, but he wouldn't put money on it. She's a goofball, not dumb. He wonders what she'll think of him, if she does.

Orihime nodded once to respond to his questions. She did remember. He'd seemed pretty content to be here in Genessia, she remembered that too. But though several would write her off as being a cheerful ditz based on her upbeat and strange personality, she wasn't stupid, and she was perceptive about a lot of things. It wasn't hard to figure out what he was referring to.

Still, she was a little surprised at his reluctance to mention his past profession. He'd even gone so far as to hide it. Was it a tactical decision, or was he just embarrassed? Maybe he thought the people who knew him would treat him differently.

"I guess...I wouldn't enjoy doing that kind of job either." She folded her arms loosely against her stomach, leaning forward. "If you want to talk about it, Ford-san, I don't mind listening. We're friends, so...I won't be mad about it, or disappointed."

He shakes his head, taking a seat on the couch. He still has nightmares, sometimes, about the things he's done and been through, and there are few people he hates enough to wish memories like that on. Orihime isn't one of them.

"It's fine. With any luck, that work is behind me now." It's why he named his nursery what he did -- it represents his wish for a peaceful life in Genessia.

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[Action, Closed]

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long tag is long but eh setting a scene

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