Another Day on the Assembly Line

Batty

The artist formerly known as porky
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”Black Arabica Coffee. Served at 150.31 degrees Fahrenheit. Two percent milk, pasteurized. Two and a quarter teaspoons of sugar substitute. Hold the whipped cream.”

The man behind the cash register blinked in confusion. The gesture returned with one that was a devoid of emotion.

"Please, sir.”

Soon enough a pile of crumbled bills were delicately placed in the meaty hand of the cashier. The eyes of his customer were almost dead. Open, and blinking only one every two minutes or so. The cashier, deservedly, gave the petty boy a sneer. When the change was returned, one thought ran through the cashier's brain- What a demanding twerp!

The boy flinched.

"Here you are. Enjoy kid."

The young adult looked up. Realizing that his coffee was ready. He nodded softly and muttered a thank you. Taking the cup as he turned his back from the coffee truck. Trailing away as he lifted the hot plastic lid against his lips. Stealing a sip, before swallowing carefully. Silent.

”....149.4.”

Close enough. He continued to drink as he carried himself down the path. The heat of the drink offset the cold that encased him. The first inklings of frost had appeared, so the time for hot coffee seemed to be a go.

However...

As the boy walked back to his dorm, he couldn't help but to be interrupted by voices. Those... Voices...

He shook his head. Flinching again. He knew what they were thinking. All of them. Horrible, nasty thoughts. About him. About each other. Friends saying they'll be together forever yet lying through their teeth. He knew them. All of them.

All at once.

He shook his head. Trying to sweep it all away as he downed the rest of his coffee. It burned his tongue a little, but at least the pain distracted him from the other people. Even in this place, he still felt like an outcast. So he carried on, clutching the books he held to his side after tossing away the duo. Best to ditch this place and get back home. ASAP.

Although...


@"A M E N O"
 

Zell

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Dec 28, 2014
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World's Strongest Takashi Takeo was running in circles, which is what he always did when he couldn't think clearly, and wondering about academics bogged down his thought process. Which happened a lot. The track teacher had seen him running laps so often he'd offered to scout him for the track team. But Takashi turned him down.

He wasn't really one for running away from things. He liked to run headlong into things. Like walls. And people. And wall-people.

Takashi turned along the corner, hugging the wall as he did so. He was running in a short sleeve shirt and sweatpants, which was passable enough since frost was still in its early stages of settling on the ground. But the cold didn't bother him. He'd trained wearing less in worse temperatures.

Another turn.

His breath burst from his mouth like a locomotive. It felt like the man's head was clear--or as clear as it ever tended to be--and his his muscles were warm and pliant. If the Japanese man decided to swing by the gym, he was pretty sure he would be able to get a really good workout done.

Another turn.

As Takashi wondered what he would do, he noticed too late that there was a person in his path.

"Oh shit!" He exclaimed, leaning back and twisting his body to stop before hitting the person in his path. Apparently the World's Strongest leaned to far and ended up flat on his ass on the frosted grass of the courtyard, looking up at the man he'd almost barreled over. If he had to guess, the guy was about his height, though much slighter and more.... unsettling, he supposed.

"Hey, maybe you should pay a little more attention to your surroundings, eh?"
 

Batty

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He could feel it coming. The subtle vibrations on the sidewalk below his feet told him that. However... These movements were sporadic. Unpredictable at times. And though Pluto was mostly omniscient, he couldn't predict the future.

Or when a fist was flying right in front on his face.

Pluto stopped dead in his tracks mere centimeters away from the flying fist that was poised for his face. His eyes widening for a split second, but otherwise remained largely the same. He watched unemotionally at the man stumbled backwards to land smack-dab on his behind. Pluto would sidle a chuckle, but he didn't want to press his luck with escaping the stranger's first throw.

Plus... He was getting a weird vibe off of this guy. He couldn't put his finger to it, but there was something there he couldn't quite understand. This guy... He didn't follow a formula. He didn't have a method to him like so many others did. It was like... Hmm...

Pluto blinked for the first time in five minutes or so. He looked down at the fallen man, who seemed obviously peeved that the boy had stopped him. For a moment, Pluto attempted to regain himself. Clearly, it was the fault of man who had run into him. Or was it?

”I apologize.”

He outstretched a fragile hand for the man to take. He studied his features. Strong, resilient, and it was clear he has much of a history to him. But Pluto tried to distract himself from this, in order to concentrate more on his condition. After all, interpreting things for face value was easy. It was emotions that were hard.

”Hm... Minimal damage,, no open wounds.... I assume you're okay, no?” Yeah, 'assume'. He didn't want to right off the bat be creepy. ”...You have an unusual heart rate....”

Well, so much for that effort.
 

Zell

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World's Strongest was okay. He wasn't really worried about being injured by his fall--he was much tougher than people gave him credit for, even though people already gave him a lot of credit for his toughness. Looking up at the strange boy, he couldn't help but stare at his face. Or more specifically, his eyes. They looked distant and glassy, like a dead fish. Looking at him sent a shudder up his spine.
What was with the people in this place, their looks so far?

Looking at him, Takeo's eyes were different. They were bright and alive. Not plightless, of course--but they were forward looking, hopeful in the way that only someone naive and stupid can be.

"I apologize."

He got the feeling that others would take that to be the comment of a smart-aleck, but he took it at face value. He had no reason not to, afterall. This strange person who he's never seen before and had no reason to trust at all seemed incredibly trustworthy to him, and that was good enough in his mind.

Reaching up, he grasped his hand. It felt fragile and thin, and he felt that if he squeezed to hard it would shatter in his hand like a million pieces of fine china. Takeo held his hand, but stood mostly with his own power. The boy's skin was so pale. He looked sickly.

”Hm... Minimal damage,, no open wounds.... I assume you're okay, no?”

"I--yeah I'm fine." The Japanese man pat himself down, checking to make sure what he was saying was true. It was. "How did you know that?"

But.... an unusual heartrate? Takashi was quiet for a long moment before saying suddenly. "I don't hear anything."

"OH, but hey!" He said, putting his hands on his hips. "How about I buy you something to eat. As an apology for...." he flailed his arms around in the general area they were standing in. "This."​
 

Batty

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Ah yes, his favorite part of meeting a new person- getting a feel on their first impressions of him. Pluto folded his hands in front of him as the other man was safely put on his feet. The first thing that rang at the back of his mind was how the man subtly shivered. It was his eyes, wasn’t it?.... Yep, the eyes. Pluto blinked again as he had forgotten to do so within the past few moments. He still had that fishlike, spacy yet purposeful gaze about him. But no amount of mental scolding would stop Pluto from a force of habit.

Oh well. The other hadn’t run away yet, so it was all good. Once the other stood up to face him, Pluto really could assess the other’s features. The other drew a complete contrast from him. The man was the complete package, that was for sure. Rippling muscles, a fire in his eyes, and a lively complexion to compliment that spirit of his that was easy to pick up. But that wasn’t what impressed Pluto on a deeper level. This other man was rather impulsive from what Pluto could garner. And while this place was full of rowdy and reckless youth, this guy was… Different.

Pluto couldn’t place his finger on just why, though.

Unfortunately he had bigger things to give more thought to. Such as how to cover up the fact that he read his mind.

Seeing as though this other man had intrigued him, Pluto didn’t want to shake him off yet. So he’d lie as smoothly as he could. He had gotten pretty good at that. ”Perhaps the fact that blood hasn’t touched the pavement would be a good indicator.” He cleared his throat. ”That was a joke. What is not is the fact that I felt your pulse when I picked you up. In your wrist.” Pluto shakily lifted his arms to demonstrate. Putting two fingers above the blue vein that stuck out like a sore thumb amongst his pasty skin. Underneath it, he felt his own pulse. A steady Thump. Thump. Almost a bit too sparse between beats, but Pluto was fine. Well, as much as Pluto could be, anyway. That same heartbeat seemed to jump a mile once the other took him completely off guard yet again. This time, with an offer Pluto hadn’t heard in years.

”You want… To buy me… Food?” Pluto then looked around. To his right, then his left. There weren’t any hidden cameras around, so this obviously wasn’t a joke… Yet. ”Are you sure..? I would.. Like that.” He stopped to think, before nodding his head to clarify. ”Yes, I would.”
 

Zell

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This guy was... odd.

He'd found himself thinking that a lot from his first few weeks on the campus, but he could tell that this guy was especially odd. Not just his eyes either. His whole behavior, his aura, it was all just a bit... sluggish. Pale and frail and just generally slow, like some type of turtle or something to that effect. He didn't know why, but somehow... he found himself intrigued rather than offput.

His manner of talking was too complicated for World's Strongest to understand right away, and he found himself missing bits and pieces of what the other man was telling him because he loitered around on phrase, turning it this way and that in his mind trying to understand what he was trying to say with it. The monotonous voice didn't help--normally if he didn't understand what someone was saying, he just figured it out from body language or tone of voice. But this guy didn't really employ either of those things.

If he had to describe the person standing in front of him as a color, he'd be the color of water, completely transparent yet hiding potentially tumultous secrets just underneath the surface, like the river that looks shallow but holds a strong, deadly current.

Except....

Takashi couldn't tell if this guy was strong or not. Normally his background in martial arts gave him an immediate and accurate reading on the strength of the people he came across, but this guy was different. He wasn't getting anything at all. He didn't feel weak--World's Strongest Takashi Takeo could easily identify when someone was weak--he felt like.... nothingness.

How odd.

”You want… To buy me… Food?”

A lopsided grin dominated his face. "Heck yeah! My master always told me that the best way to greet a new friend is with a bow and a bowl of rice." Takashi moved a bit closer to the slight boy and draped an arm over his shoulder. Despite the fact that he'd been running laps around the courtyard, the low temperature and his high tolerance for physical labor meant that he wasn't sweaty, but his body was several degrees warmer than average.

Arm around his neck, he started to walk towards the cafeteria. "What do you like to eat, huh? My treat, yanno? Anything you have a taste for."

There was a pause as they walked.

"Oh, shit, right, duh," Takashi tapped his head with his palm. "Hey, what's your name? I'm World's Strongest Takashi Takeo"​
 

Batty

The artist formerly known as porky
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It was almost like an inception. Pluto knew that the stranger was thinking of him thinking of him about thinking about each other. It was confusing, but it took only a few milliseconds for Pluto to decipher it all. After all, what the other noticed wasn’t anything foreign to him. He had heard it before- “oh look, it’s that glassy-eyed kid that never blinks or smiles. He looks like he could crumble at any second!”. What struck him though was his genuine curiosity in substitute of morbid prying. He knew that inherently people were rotten to the core. Their fake good intentions were nothing more than cover-ups for what truly lay within. Looking at this guy though… From what he could tell in his head, there wasn’t really any of that. True, Pluto wasn’t necessarily a mind reader, but auras didn’t lie. And neither did this guy.

There was warmth in his eyes, from that inherent fire in his soul. Sure, he was intense. But something told Pluto he was far beyond how his peers sought the world.

Either that, or he was just really, really stupid.

Eh, Pluto was going to humor him anyway. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Humor was an abstract concept to Pluto that he didn’t entirely understand. He looked up to his face when he began to talk loudly again. Staring far beyond his face like it didn’t exist, but Pluto did that to everybody so it was nothing personal. What the other offered didn’t strike him as much as the term he used to accompany it. He referred to Pluto as a new ‘friend’. Again, Pluto blinked. He tended to do that when something unexpected happened.


”Hm. Well, food does have the tendency to win people over. It is required for survival, after all.” He stated blandly, with a faint shrug of his shoulders By the looks of this guy, he probably could use the higher caloric intake. So food seemed like a good idea. The only time Pluto truly made a reaction was when he wrapped an arm around him. His eyes widened, even more so than usual. ”I...” Pluto began, casually, yet awkwardly worming out of his arms. Nodding once as he took his side. ”I like sandwiches. And salad. Relatively simple in the culinary world, but that’s how I like things done. Less to think about.” He paused. ”Thank you, again.” He stated plainly.

Of course as natural conversations go, the other brought up his name.

Takashi.

Pluto knew that.


”Pluto.” He replied simply, before looking up at him. ”Nice to make your acquaintanceship, Takashi.”
 

Zell

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The Japanese man would be the first to admit that he didn't really get this guy, but that didn't bother him. He didn't really get a lot of things.

"I mean, yeah, I guess that's true," he commented lightly on the other guy's opinion about food. "But it also just tastes good, you know? Feels good to have a full stomach." It reminded him of the days back at the temple after a long day of training and taking care of the mountain crops where they would finally be able to pick the ones that were ready and toss them into a big bowl. He remembered raising chickens, and when one was finally old enough to be killed, they'd pluck its feathers and make Chicken Katsu.

Hearing the kind of food Pluto liked to eat almost made him feel bad. He'd have to teach this guy the ways of tasty cooking! Of course he'd said that he'd buy the guy whatever he wanted to eat, but he'd been expecting something flavorful, a comfort food, something that filled his nostrils with scents and idyllic images of home.

As they walked into the cafeteria, Takashi scooted into line. "It's World's Strongest Takashi Takeo. The whoooooole thing is my name." This wasn't true, of course, but he liked to think it was true. He'd written it on his official documentation into the school after all, so it was his legal name as far as the school was concerned. "You can call me World's Strongest, if you like."

Once in the line, he shunted forward until he got to the woman. "Excuse me, obaasan could I get two butadon please?"

The woman looked at him strangely.

It took him a second. "Oh! Uh, I mean, two... what are they.... uh....pork bowls?"

The woman shunted away to get what he asked.

"You'll like butadon, it's simple and tasty." He said, grinning at Pluto. "So, how long have you been goin' to school here? I just started."​
 

Batty

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While by no means an inherent bad thing, it was clear that Pluto and Takashi didn't see eye-to-eye on a lot of aspects. But as Pluto realized before, this muscular stranger had a fire to him that Pluto hadn't seen in many people. A pure, almost naive flame that erupted from a hard-knock past. At least, that was what he read. Pluto was so... Vanilla. A deadpan, distant man who didn't seem to want to have passion for anything. So yes, what Takashi was certainly was't a bad thing.

However, what was a shock to Pluto the most was his unwavering confidence. This man was going to take him for a ride, whether or not Pluto liked it. It was best to not complain though. Given his muscular mass, he probably could crush his head like a sparrow egg.

So yeah, Pluto's lips were sealed.

Well, sorta.

"..Right." He remarked. He honestly didn't like the feeling of being overfilled. He had a sensitive stomach and pallet, and didn't like curling up on the floor from eating something that gave him a sensory overload. As probably what Takashi was trying to get him to eat.

For now though he sort of distracted himself with the prospect of his acquaintances name. He had been saying it wrong all along, and knowingly so. After all, 'The World's Strongest Takashi Takeo' was a mouthful. And... Well, incorrect. Here alone there were people who could toss someone so hard they rip the fabric of space and time to slam dunk them into next week's biology class. In a sense, Pluto felt pity for Takashi, for he was most likely going to learn this the hard way. But for now, Pluto played along and let him have his confidence. Just because he knew everything didn't mean he had to be a know-it-all. He constantly had to remind himself of this.

Gee, no wonder why he had no friends.


"Well then , I am looking forward to what the World's Strongest Takashi Takeo has to offer." And he left it at that, making a note not to ever refer to him by his name in order to conserve oxygen when calling him. Pluto followed behind him quietly as he ordered, not making so much a peep as he stared practically into the soul of the lunchlady. Not phased by her squeamishness as she passed them the bowls. Pluto wrinkled his nose discreetly. Oh boy.

He took it back to a table with Takashi and proceeded to immediately poke it with a fork. Analyzing the ingredients. Recalling the lunch lady didn't use gloves to prepare the meal. Or wash her hands for the matter. Yuck.

Just then, a question knocked him out of his invasive thoughts that relentlessly beat his consciousness up. He responded near immediately. "Eighteen months, two days, five hours and approximately twenty minutes. And counting." His icy dead glance looked back up at Takashi. "Time however means little to me. Emotionally, in a figurative sense, it feels as though I have been enrolled for a week. As they say, time flies."


He cleared his throat with a silent grunt. Still poking at his meal as he kept his eyes on the other.

"How have you been adjusting? Well, I presume. You seem to have your bearings together already. Doesn't help that your physical strength and capabilities seem to surpass at least 79.5% of the student body."

 

Zell

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It was probably a good thing that Takashi wasn't able to read Pluto's mind. That was, for better or worse, a brand of power that he was unable to copy. He'd worked really hard to fight his way to the top in the World Martial Arts Tournament that was hosted every couple of years, defended his title a few times until he was undisputibly the strongest in the world.

Or, he supposed, more accurately, the strongest in the non-powered world. He'd seen firsthand what some of the students here could do. Duplication, stopping time, pyromancy--a whole flavor of power that he could never experience before.

Imagine his surprise the first time he managed to copy a supernatural power.

The lunchlady returned with their food after a few minutes. Takashi took his and gave it a sniff. It didn't smell like the kind he had back at the temple--it smelled too sharp, like the smell itself could cut the inside of his nose. But it was better than nothing at all, and that was good enough for him. He took the bowl to an open table, picked up a set of chopsticks from the utensil station.

Sitting down, he tore off the paper with his teeth and broke his chopsticks unevenly. He bellowed a thanks, as he did back home and shoved beef and rice into his mouth.

It tasted sharp.

"Oh yeah?" He said between mouthfuls of food. "Thats like.... thats like...." Takashi paused, squinting at the space above Pluto's head. "Uh.... that's.... two? two years right?"

He really wasn't one for math.

"It's good. Really tough." He chewed. "Y'know, for some reason I am confused. Like, all the time here. I wonder why that is."