Private Mysterious Blonde Man

Oh.

Oh dear.

Angelo wasn't expecting much of anything; he was just heading to drop off some scouting paperwork at the office when suddenly someone yelled his name. He stopped, perking up and glancing around, and then...

Oh.

Oh dear.

Because of course he remembered Charlotte: he remembered everyone, but it would have been especially hard to forget someone like Charlotte. He'd been involved with her rescue recently, and overall she was fairly... distinct.

"Shh," he said, trying to signal for her to bring the volume down. "Of course I remember you, but there isn't any need to yell." Lots of people were looking at them, and having someone yell that they were the slave he had saved was... embarrassing.

It could have been worse, at least.

Okay. Alright. He could handle this. Even if Charlotte looked to be around his age, it was easier to mentally think of them as being younger. Much younger. More like an awkward ten year old who wanted a lot of physical affection that probably wasn't entirely appropriate to give. Angelo allowed the hug, but didn't quite return it, his hands in the air to avoid looking like he was getting too affectionate. Probably someone was already talking to her about not hugging people, and Angelo wasn't quite willing to try and reinforce the lesson right then.

"It's a cute outfit," he confirmed. "And of course I remember you. It wasn't too long ago, anyway." And he had a perfect memory and would literally never forget someone, so that certainly counted.

"Are you doing alright here?" She'd been a bit... well, to say the least he had some concerns.

To say the least, he and Charlotte were night and day. She loved to sleep. He didn't sleep. He was deeply organized and methodical, and she was... not.

They didn't really have little in common so much as they had nothing in common.

But Angelo had ever intention of making an attempt, hoping to instill something approximating a work ethic in Charlotte by sheer force of will.

"Oh, is that so? Schedules are very important, you know. They help you stay organized, so you can get things done."

Maybe it would fall on deaf ears, but at least he was trying.

"Being a scout is pretty much who I am," Angelo pointed out. A lot of people probably wouldn't take it so seriously, but for Angelo, it was the truth. Being a hero was who he was. It was a fundamental part of him, not just a job.

Being a scout wasn't quite the same thing—it was a lot more of a job—but it was close enough.

"You can talk to the school staff about relaxing your schedule, but it's important to learn to work with an existing schedule. That's how you manage to have a job, how you get through your education... it's an important part of being a member of society." He knew she could do it, but getting her to try was a whole other thing.

Really, he should have known she'd try that kind of argument. The I'm really only five months old was absolutely not going to work on Angelo, no sir.

"You're not really five months old," Angelo pointed out, not willing to let that point go without objection. "When people talk about that, they're talking about babies... which can't even lift their heads on their own. They're helpless, and they're not really aware of what's happening around them. Mentally, you're a teenager--you know what's going on around you, and you've got the mental maturity of one. If you really were a five month old, you wouldn't be allowed to make any decisions for yourself, and you'd forget everything that's happening to you. Most humans only have memories starting when they're... oh, at least five or six years old."

He genuinely wasn't sure if she knew that or not. Her upbringing had been a tad... sparse.