Description: Ending her EPIC QUEST for K's name because she's bored, Shurui makes a visit to the man that hired him: Alma. However, Happy Fun Time with Alma isn't Happy. Or Fun. At least, for someone like Shurui. For Alma, however, it is a chance to show the girl a path she never considered before.
Work.
Alma Towazu, fighting model and psychic prettyboy extraordinaire, should really count himself lucky. With his winnings as a reputable martial artist he has gathered during his short but relatively illustrious career, a young man could live quite comfortably for some time, but the dedicated youth is not one to rest on his laurels; thus, all this. Nominal head of an institution inspired by his mentor and almost entirely designed by himself, using either abilities he never knew he had or, much more likely, his level-headed, mild-mannered reassuring confidence as a substitute for all said abilities. He more fell into the role of leader than anything, as he always does, but that is, perhaps, how his charisma functions in the first place. It's easy to dislike people who are famous, talented, and overbearing. It's hard to dislike people who are famous, talented, and unassuming.
So, all in all, Alma continues to do quite well for himself.
And he's found time to live his life the way he always used to, maintaining if not his old style than at least his integrity as the man he's been. He travelled to Metro City to train and prepare for a second branch being opened there, encountering once again his equally preoccupied rival and best friend; their paths are as different as ever, but more refined, yet more worthy and becoming of themselves. Mainly, however, Alma has striven to keep a handle on his numerous commitments, a epic quest in and of itself. It might seem terribly boring to an observer, especially given the kind of action one assumes the beautiful young man must be used to, but Alma Towazu is just the sort of guy that can take a certain pleasure in paperwork-- or at least, he never forgets what it represents, what cause it serves, and why he's chosen this path. He's got his priorities straight.
Unless you think nineteen year old fighting stars should have things in their life other than work, work, and more work.
But why would you think that?
Besides, many other friends are here. Hotaru, now oath sister, much as Jiro is oath brother. Frei, ever a boon companion. Mizuki, at least thrice his savior, and once he hers. And new friends... like...
Pausing, Alma sets down his pen for the first time in half an hour.
~ I wonder if-- ~
Like K'.
Quiet, the gentle young man turns in his plush chair to gaze out the wide windows, from whence, luckily on this winter day, bright warming sunlight streams forth.
~ --he'll be able to make it? ~
Alma is careful, deliberate, generous, and open-hearted, champion of virtue and amiable guy.
But he gambles more than most people realize.
It is worth it, he thinks, to have faith in people.
K' seems to need all the faith he could get, for someone who has such little faith in himself. At least, that's what it seemed to Shurui. A man like that, thinking his name was unimportant enough to give? Granted, maybe he just wanted her to shoo off, but, to the girl who only had an official name for a year or two, the idea that anyone would willingly view their name with such unimportance just seems... well, silly.
But a lot of things seem silly or stupid to the girl. Also, a lot of things seem worthy of being made a sort of game, a goal to take on just to prove something. Or prove nothing at all. This may be the latter. You can't prove something by being an ass, but you can chase away that all-too-familiar enemy of boredom. Just for fifteen minutes. Or twenty.
Everyone seems to mumble the same thing- blame Alma, I don't know, I don't want to know, get out of my face, etc. Some *may* have said K''s name, but by this point, the bored Shurui seems interested in this 'Alma'. Isn't that a girl's name? Well, his office is in he- oh, a library. She'll have to remember this part.
Five minutes later, she sees a door, seemingly going towards the (in?)famous Alma's office. It's ajar.
Now, if she had remembered her manners, she would have knocked. Her father would have dictacted this. However, being alone has made her lapse into some very bad habits.... such as entering. Some of these were for very good reasons, but others... just rude. Thus, she only bothers to knock on the side of the doorframe as she opens it, dark eyes peering at Alma through tinted glasses perched on her nose.
...... Man or woman? Man. Maybe. The light's muddling his features, even if it's not all that much light in the first place. She'll have to depend on Alma's voice. "Are you Alma? I have a question." Straight to the point.
Alma Towazu might find a lot surprising about Shurui Chiang.
It says a lot, though, that the thing he finds most surprising--
"I am he."
--is that he hasn't heard 'Are you Alma?' in a long, long time.
Good thing Alma has a polite way of speaking; she must need all the help she can get.
The tall youth had glanced over curiously from the window, and now -- if she can tell -- he is smiling gently, sitting straight and rotating back on his chair to face her. "I'd be happy to help with any questions you have," he says softly, gesturing to a smaller chair on the opposite side of his desk. "Please, sit down, Miss...?"
The questioning note is there if she notices it, but not so sharp that if she ignores it things will be awkward. Alma will be quite content to go on calling her 'miss'.
"Is this in regards to the YFCC?"
Presumably, if she looked like an autograph hunter, someone would have stopped her-- but who knows? It's not as though he's psy--
Well, it's not as though he's /that/ kind of psychic.
The voice is.... male. And he referred to himself as 'he', as if to emphasize that. This may not come as too much of a surprise- such guessing games become easier when you try to pick out clues, even if they are supplied from other senses. Senses like.... sight, taste, smell, hearing, touch.... ^t ^t ^y And something else. Something that itches in the back of her head, something just..... strange.
She ignores it, for now. Nothing important. "This won't take long." Naturally, she assumes that. Then again, she assumed that when she visited the YFCC, under the pressure of a guidance counselor. 'You need to get out more. Socialize. Gedo High isn't here to be an excuse for you.' 'Just because your father has... passed on doesn't mean you must fall back into yourself.' .... Well, K' proved an exception. While the two came very close to trading blows... there was something about his words that shocked her out of her usual teenage apathy and disillusionment. Maybe that's ironic.
She'll see.
Inviting herself in like a stray cat presented an open door, Shurui strolls over to the chair and sits down. Itch, itch. It's still there. "My name is Shurui. Shurui Chiang." Unlike many things, she presents this name with a proper manner, not lapsing into a sort of lazy drawl that she is fond of. Some fringe fan of Alma's? ..... Maybe. She certainly seems set on finding him.
Is this about the YFCC? "I guess. I want to know the name of one of your...." Workers? No. "Employees. The guy with the white hair. Wears black, is... uh..." She stretches her hand up high. "About this height. Very tall."
There are other things Alma finds surprising about this girl.
If first was, entertainingly enough, her lack of recognition of him, then a very close second would doubtless be the unique glimmer her aura holds. The young model folds his hands in his lap and listens quietly, with seeming patience; in reality, he is interestedly studying the visual extravaganza that is her identity made color. Her aura would be unusual though without the telltale sign of their twin power: that strange sheen that, now that he knows what it signifies, makes her so-called psychic abilities all too obvious. Fascinating because, like K' and Maxima and a few others has he tried to incorporate into the fold upon their arrival here, there is more than just the fighting spirit that represents her greater strength. There is something there that reminds him all too much of Jiro, and he perceives in an instant, with intuitions he has learned to trust unquestioningly, that she must go to Gedo High. It just-- seems appropriate. But there is something about her that reminds him of that Aislinn Doyle, though she is quite clearly fully human. And strangely, he ponders as Shurui finishes her description, it's something she vaguely shares with the auras of K' and, to a smaller degree, Maxima.
Something... missing.
How interesting.
"You must mean K."
Alma smiles again.
"He's an interesting fellow, isn't he?"
There is, faintly, a little worried furrow to his brow now.
"...He didn't give you a hard time, did he?"
Her lack of recognition. It's probably something that makes sense, especially when paired with her limited memory. Whether by disinterest or just plain luck, Alma just doesn't ring any bells for Shurui.
Maybe the answer to everything lies into the first layer of that aura, the one that Alma sees so readily. It broadcasts everything the girl tries so hard to cover, to veil with sarcastic remarks and seeming disinterest in everything placed in front of her. A world-weary girl, that's what she's supposed to be. But instead, her aura seems stunted, lacking. Missing something that can't be identified as easily as a broken memory or something hidden away. Whatever's been hidden away is down beneath there, or, perhaps, cut off and dissolved into nothing like sugar in water. There's probably a good reason why K', Aislinn, or Maxima come to mind.
.... Itchitch. It's annoying, whatever that itching is.
"K?" That's his name? "No, he didn't. I did." Brute honesty. "He was minding his own business, and I almost tripped over him." And then followed with a lie. "We got angry at each other but..." Pause. How to keep this lie valid?
"... I guess he's kinda interesting." It's said with a certain amount of forced distance from the words, like she could care less. But, in reality, she does care. A little. It's more of a curiosity, an idea that, perhaps, he wouldn't be that bad of a guy to meet again. Maybe to spar with? Hm. With that amount of power in his body... "Why does he work here, anyways? He doesn't look like he really gets anything out of it."
Bad question, maybe. Shows interest. Betrays her goal. But what *is* her goal, anyways? To learn about him, or to kill time? What would happen if this Alma caught on?
"Interesting," Alma murmurs.
Is he repeating her words, or commenting himself?
"Most people don't notice things like that," the bronze-skinned young man continues softly, gazing intently -- though not at all aggressively or unnervingly -- at the grey-haired girl before him. "Though that is understandable," he says, very carefully now, "as you must have sensed his power."
Zach has no such abilities, but maybe this girl...
He pauses only briefly, before speaking on.
"When the surface is so bright, it can be difficult to look deeper," Alma says, smiling again. "I think many here might share your intuition about him... but when one is like K -- powerful, determined, and yet without direction -- I think the challenges to be found here are exactly what one needs."
His smile widens.
"I might be wrong, but I think you should give him a chance."
If Alma detects any lies, he's sure not showing it.
"For now, though, until he's ready, let's just call him K."
And he grins, warmly, in a youthful expression that belies his expensively tailored suit and elegant demeanor, and reaches up to fold his arms behind his head, leaning back a bit.
"What's in a name, anyway?"
Alma tilts his head to the side slightly, still regarding Shurui.
"And you?" he says, sounding friendly now, as though all problems have already been resolved. "Is there anything you are looking to get out of-- anything, Miss Chiang?"
A brief shadow of suspuscion crosses Shurui's face at the choice of words. While she's never been hounded like K' or Maxima and never truly considers it a threat... there's still that time on the streets. When having anything interesting about you was Not Good. A pretty face, a strong body. A willingness to do whatever it takes for money. However, such people usually asked first. If they felt you were worth the trouble? They come back.
And if you're really special, they won't take no for an answer a second or third time, if only because the next time you might be claimed by someone else. Or by the street.
But that's the street. Where is she? Here. In an office. In a Youth Center. Talking to a man who, while strange, hasn't rang any bells yet, aside from the ones that ring all the time someone says odd words. ".... His power. Yeah, he looks like he not all bark, if that's what you mean. Get to the point." Her words, sharp. Insensitive, considering Alma hasn't shown himself to be a threat.
But Alma arrives at his point quickly enough to satisfy her. "... It's not a matter of giving chances," Shurui sulks, looking to the side. "I just want to know his name. It's better than calling him 'hey you' all the time, isn't it?" A hand rakes through gray hair, shooing a few strands from her eyes. "Names hold a lot of things. Identity, family, place. Honor." Odd, for a girl so nonchalant to be saying these words. And meaning them, even. "Control, maybe. If you don't want anybody to know who you are." K' didn't seem to be the latter, or else he could have told her a fake name. Or something else. Anything other than the one action that would encourage her curiosity.
When the topic changes from K' to her, Shurui hesitates, as if the question was much harder than Alma intended. "..... Nothing, really, I guess. Just wanted to kill some time."
A brief shadow of suspuscion crosses Shurui's face at the choice of words. While she's never been hounded like K' or Maxima and never truly considers it a threat... there's still that time on the streets. When having anything interesting about you was Not Good. A pretty face, a strong body. A willingness to do whatever it takes for money. However, such people usually asked first. If they felt you were worth the trouble? They come back.
And if you're really special, they won't take no for an answer a second or third time, if only because the next time you might be claimed by someone else. Or by the street.
But that's the street. Where is she? Here. In an office. In a Youth Center. Talking to a man who, while strange, hasn't rang any bells yet, aside from the ones that ring all the time someone says odd words. ".... His power. Yeah, he looks like he not all bark, if that's what you mean. Get to the point." Her words, sharp. Insensitive, considering Alma hasn't shown himself to be a threat.
But Alma arrives at his point quickly enough to satisfy her. "... It's not a matter of giving chances," Shurui sulks, looking to the side. "I just want to know his name. It's better than calling him 'hey you' all the time, isn't it?" A hand rakes through gray hair, shooing a few strands from her eyes. "Names hold a lot of things. Identity, family, place. Honor." Odd, for a girl so nonchalant to be saying these words. And meaning them, even. "Control, maybe. If you don't want anybody to know who you are." K' didn't seem to be the latter, or else he could have told her a fake name. Or something else. Anything other than the one action that would encourage her curiosity.
When the topic changes from K' to her, Shurui hesitates, as if the question was much harder than Alma intended. "..... Nothing, really, I guess. Just wanted to kill some time."
Alma's still smiling.
"That's what I mean."
He leans forward again, now resting his elbows on the table. It doesn't take much for the young man to feel he's established a rapport with someone, even if they've just met. But, though he is often subdued -- except, of course, in battle -- he is anything but standoffish.
"If K wanted to share those things with us," he continues softly, "his identity, his family, his place..." He pauses for a moment, and his smile does not shift. "...or his honor..." For whatever reason, however much insight he may appear to already have into the girl, he does not seem remotely startled by her choice of words. It's not that he saw it coming. It's just that people like her-- well, they're full of surprises.
"...or if he wasn't concerned about being controlled..."
Maybe that's why he likes to keep them around.
"...he'd do so, and give us -- or make -- a more distinguishable name."
The handsome youth's smile grows more gentle again.
"So either we wait until he's comfortable enough to share what he has, or we help him in creating that which he doesn't. As a Youth Center, that should be our prerogative. Don't you think?"
Whatever her answer, he just grins at her last comment.
"Well, I'm happy to help with that too," he says good-humoredly, hazel eyes sparkling, shrouded partially by the red-tinged blond bangs that hang artfully around his androgynous features. He gestures faintly toward the paperwork arrayed neatly on his desk. "These are my less interesting battles."
Even as he appears amused, though, his gaze grows thoughtful again, looking up at her.
"Shurui," he says, in a manner that would be abrupt were not so soft-spoken. "You seem ill at ease." That's one way of putting it. But there are few ways to lead into these sorts of questions. Still, Alma's gotten a /little/ better at it than he used to be.
"Do you feel uncomfortable here?"
It's the best he can do.
"Something about this room, perhaps?"
It's a very nice office, really, but, you know.
Asking if he made her uncomfortable might sound perverted or something.
As Alma leans forward, even if it's nowhere breaching Shurui's personal space, she seems to lean back further in the chair. A subtle motion. Here, in this chair, even while leaning back, she can see him a bit more clearly. Very handsome, actually, though her sight tends to gloss over smaller imperfections like skin and scars like a Silver Era camera. Neither female, nor male. Inbetween. Girls must be attracted to him a lot.
Perhaps because of this, or some reason, Shurui feels nervous. Something about this man... well, it's not as easy to say that it's 'off', because he seems, for all intents and purposes, a man with no schemes up his sleeve. Either she's just being too obvious, or he's somehow seeing past all her lies. Even still, it never comes across her mind to remove the shades from her eyes and take a glance at him.
Itchitch. "... I don't want to know those things. It's not my business. Besides, maybe K' is his true name. You know, the one he prefers all the time, no matter whether he trusts you or not." Another lie, maybe. Whatever his name is, K' just doesn't seem to put much value into it. "Maybe he doesn't want people to figure him out, y'know?"
Not a lie, for once. At least, in Shurui's mind.
Dark eyes dart away from Alma's vision, a feat easier done when meeting eyes isn't something neccesary just yet. It's easier to talk about someone else, rather than yourself. "No, it's nothing." The dismissal is quick, too quick. "Nothing at all." A goal. Ever since her father passed away, it's all about passing time. Until.... something happened. To be asked about goals brings to the surface the painful reality of not knowing enough about life, of.... something missing. Like memories. It's easy to dismiss it all as just a load of crock, of a box best left unopened. No good could come of whatever has been excluded from her memory, that's for sure.
It's easier to focus on fighting. Everything disappears then. "I guess I was hoping to... uh.... improve my fighting. There's no one really that I know I could practice with just yet. I just transferred into Gedo." Best to keep Alma's interest diverted to something else than her nervousness.
Alma waits until she is finished, and then straightens again. He doesn't particularly enjoy invading people's personal space, and, indeed, any average observer wouldn't say that he had just then. But just as Alma fights to seek a clash of souls that will bring both greater self-understanding and an understanding of his opponent, a kind of cooperation through conflict, he feels that sometimes the best way to get to know someone is by transgressing their boundaries in baby steps, carefully inching forward. To his credit, he is quite subtle. He seems, for all his mildness, completely open-hearted.
Yet for all that, he is much more interested in her than it appears.
Now she is acting as though she never cared about K''s real name in the first place, yet she seems more straightforward than before. Alma is not all that surprised. Very few people would be so concerned with such a detail in and of itself; at least, he's never met someone who would. Maybe Naerose or something. But probably not this girl. She's looking for something else.
"I admire that."
And whatever her past, whatever difficulties this strange girl must have endured, even fighting, he suspects, she is not concerned with in and of itself.
"Refining a skill, I've found," Alma says, amiably enough, "is a good way to make oneself feel at home." He tilts his head slightly, an oddly inviting mannerism. "In many respects, that's what this place is for."
Of course... it's not his business.
"So," he says, now grinning again, "you've come to the right place."
He points idly to a neat stack of what look like brochures on the front of his desk. They are identical to the ones that can be found on the front information desk. "Hotaru Futaba's class on the physical aspects of martial arts would be a good place to start," he continues, "and Frei Tsukitomi-Renard's class on chi manipulation, if you have such an interest. However--"
There's that look again, that intent gaze, that while not intimidating in itself at all, hints very slightly at the terrifying intensity that this otherwise gentle young man must possess, that embodies his rigorous approach towards life.
"I suspect studies in chi may not help you so much."
Now that she's professing interests of her own, he might as well say it.
"I, on the other hand," he continues, "though I am afraid I wouldn't have time to mentor you myself, would be happy to give you a few pointers on how to refine your powers. If you are seeking a regular opponent, you should search out Zach Glen. He works here, and he might interest you. His style is, I think, exceedingly different from your own; that, contrasted with your similarities, might help your abilities develop at a rapid pace."
He leans back, hands folding in his lap again, but his eyes remain focused on her.
"It is difficult," he adds softly, "to find other psychics to train with."
And even as he gazes into her eyes, seeming to pierce right through the rose-tinted glasses through which, perhaps ironically, she tries to see her world, Alma Towazu's own eyes soften, revealing a hint of melancholy.
"It must," he murmurs gently, "have been difficult."
~ You're not... ~
Alma exhales, a faint sigh, almost inaudible.
~ ...the only one. ~
In a way, Shurui is immature in a deeper way that any sixteen year old could be. She has a mature understanding of how cruel the world can be, but this has been contradicted by the silent love of her mentor and adoptive guardian. Perhaps it was a short while that she had him in her life, but it was enough to make her requestion just how cruel the world actually can be. It's all become a game of 'come here, keep away' now, protective instincts fighting with hopes of a warm future. She wants to make friends with a man who'd probably appreciate the favor the least. And it is because of this reason, this understanding of it, that she acts like she doesn't want to, in the first place.
Nothing'd come of it, just you see. No, something will come of it, just you see. Contradictions.
Dark eyes glance aside distantly at the packages, her attention more on Alma's words. Martial arts class? Maybe, but... A chi class? Maybe. She could try to rectify whatever's wrong with her defens-
Eyes, far more patient and mature than her own, gaze back at her with a heady sort of meaning that keep Shurui staring back.
Then he says it.
"...... psychics....?" Shurui's expression sours. Difficult...? "What the hell do you mean by that?" Now she's on the defensive, teeth gritting as she stands up, slamming one hand on the desk. "You think I need some sort of sympathy!? Of course things are hard. Life's tough for everyone." She just wants her father back. Why did he have to teach her Wing Chun, a style that depended so much on reflex and closeness? Was it to help her and him come to terms with each other? She just wants that, no chi, no martial arts, no-
Itchitch.
"Life is...." Shades come off, and Shurui attempts to fight that earnest gaze back. Perhaps it's not a battle of fist and foot, but it might be just up Alma's alley. A clashing of souls. "...."
What Shurui sees is something completely unlike what she expected. Something so earnest, sincere. A fire, but not like K's. This one is pure white, something between water and fire, something complex intensifies into pinks, purples, then something like gold and rose red at the core- his heart. K's was elemental, deep, burning like fire trapped in a mine.
The glasses fall from her hands, clattering uselessly onto the ground. "... Wh..... what...." She tries to hide her naked surprise by looking away, backing away and falling back into the chair she rose from moments before. "... A-are you playing jokes with me?"
s"
"What," Alma says, gaze not straying, "do /you/ think?"
Those who experience tragedy when young are often less mature, initially, than those who do not; Alma knows this fact intimately. Though it might seem an eternity ago, he can recall when his sense of self had once been so weak, when though his own abilities flowed from him so freely, the psychic abilities of others could crush him with ease. Grief and suffering can shatter a soul. Yet like a broken sword being reforged, one who is crippled by pain has a unique opportunity: to remake their being stronger than before, with a deliberation those who have suffered less cannot possess. Therein lies a chance to make a kind of integrity, a dignity, an authenticity few can match, whatever its nature. Alma, through the trials that have further tempered him, that have proved that power and meaning have come from his own losses and misfortunate, has pushed himself this far-- and Shurui, unlike the so many, can see how far he has come with her very eyes.
"I could never pity you, Shurui Chiang."
The young man rises slowly, and suffused by the light of the window, making a veritable halo of the aura she can now perceive, he seems nothing less, in this short moment, than an angel ascending.
"Looking into your eyes, I see someone too familiar."
He smiles-- and though before each smile made him seem so young, this one, something about this one, makes him seem very, very old.
"I hope we can be friends."
Old, yes-- but not tired.
Not even a little.
..... Maybe it's karma getting back at her for being just as horrible to K', even if she didn't initially intend to be. '"So what don't you like...?' 'I see a man on fire.' 'Do you dislike the fact that I see it?' Tch. Karma. Muda, a man who generally described himself to be atheist, still managed to prescribe to that notion as well. The bad things you do have a tendency to come back and bite you in the ass, even if Alma wasn't aware of any such interaction.
"I think...." It's hard to advert her gaze right now. "....." Does she look like that?
.... Honestly, Shurui never thought about it, but she never could really look at herself. She can't see auras in mirrors, TV cameras, TV.... she has to be looking at the person, or close enough for her powers to latch onto them and describe them to her mind. It's the presence that matters, not the image. She could have glanced on K', Alma, and a number of other fighters through her configured TV at her apartment and never known any better until she happened to meet them. As for herself... well, she's seen her hands. Her lower body. Somewhat. It just seems to be 'gray'. Something indecisive. It's hard to tell from her angle.
K' couldn't scare her. Made her wary of jumping into a fight with him, yes. Made her prepared to get burnt? Yes. So why does this scare her, when there's no threat? ".... I don't know what I think." She wants to ask many questions, right here. "I don't know anything, really, right now. ... But I'm sure there's answers, someplace."
'I hope we can be friends.' "..... We'll see." It's the only response she could give without betraying something inside her. "I'm scared now of what I look like." If she was far more bitter, far more entrenched into herself, perhaps, she would have closed herself off by now. However, like a shock to the system, all she can do is babble. "You can see my colors, right?"
"To a degree."
As Alma seats himself again, feeling that the girl's latent hostility has been banished, at least temporarily, his own aura fades significantly. Though his features had little changed, he was determined to get through to her, and unintentionally, this greatly affected the vibrancy of his own aura. But then, what is an aura, but a visual metaphor for just such things? It only makes sense.
"It's... not so simple, even with training."
He remains a presence, just as the colors remain. But only once that power fades does it become apparent just how subtly and steadily his presence had grown in those last moments; only once he settles does it seem almost easier to breathe, only then is it clear that his inner flame so stoked, even with a heat so full of life, can be quite oppressive.
"And your intuitions are quite good," he continues softly, a smile playing around his lips. "I see mostly pale rose, of similar shades to your glasses and clothes-- and grey. A great deal of grey. Yet not the grey of an overcast sky, or a low-hanging fog that smothers the horizon..."
Alma taps a finger against one high cheekbone, thoughtful.
"...no, rather the grey of an ancient frost, its thaw long in coming."
His smile widens slightly, mild again.
"Your aura is as a bud," he murmurs, "yet to bloom."
He pauses, but only for a moment. "You should speak with my own teacher, Rose," he continues, with a new earnest note, as though shrugging off for a time his reflections. "She can be elusive, but she has a way of appearing when she is needed." He pauses again, before grinning. "And before you ask, I don't know /her/ full name, either." Those eyes of his twinkle once more.
"Though, Shurui, please never forget..."
He leans forward again, as before, just a little.
"...your aura is not for others to define."
Hopefully, this time, she won't lean away.
"Learn whatever you can, whatever will help; do not reject the influence of others. Independence -- freedom -- being an individual -- is more than that. But..."
And then it is clear, now that he is closer, that though the colors she may now see have dimmed around him, they have not dimmed in the slightest in his eyes.
"...your colors are your own to choose."
It's never simple. The little girl who noticed her and pulled her along was called 'pink'. Shurui dumbly mentioned the fact to cheer the seemingly lonely girl of five, who took this in stride and began pointing at other people.
But it wasn't pink. It was.... something that could be called pink, but shimmered. Each aura is unique and yet the same, like snowflakes. Crystalline, beautiful.... and, after a while, you begin to glance over the intricate differences to avoid overloading your brain. A human mind can only hold onto so much. After a while, Shurui wore down, and began resorting to 'pissed off' or 'that guy needs to eat something'. The pissed off one? Well, he could have been happy for all she knew, but a man getting pummeled in a fight and swirling energy usually just meant something along those lines. The guy who needed to eat? Well, he was really skinny, his reading looked pale, and...
Shurui can only make assumptions.
That glowing aura dims, and Shurui finds a space to breathe. Slumping down in her chair, she lets out a long exhale. "Heh.... That's.... rather poetic. I usually just say red or blue." A twitch of a smile comes to her face, quickly nuetralizing. Shurui still seems unsure. Such earnest behavior.... does she want to associate with that? Leaning down over the chair to make a grab for her glasses. she attempts to fumble them back on. ".... So... that's... psychic power? The whole 'seeing people's energies' or whatever? Some sort of chi. Right. I'll... look this Zach and this Rose person up." Standing up, she turns to leave, but, pausing, she turns her head to glance back at Alma out of the corner of her eyes. "... We'll see what happens, I guess."
Alma does not rise at the girl's sudden effort to depart, nor, as ever, does he seem unfazed. His eyes follow her, his soft smile fading as he listens attentively to her hesitant responses. He does not attempt to stop her, and he does not attempt to correct her, either. The metaphysics of chi and Psycho Power are as obscure to him as anyone, and he has only his intuitions to work off of-- that, and the realities of combat. Besides, he is sure, he feels his own power in his own way, different from others, even from his teacher.
"I hope so."
Shurui, too, will find her way.
Smiling again, the young vice-president regards her warmly.
"Come back sometime," he offers, "and tell me how it goes."
As she leaves, he retrieves his pen from his desk, preparing to work again.
"My door..."
For as long as he is able.
"...is always open."
Log created on 20:32:19 01/28/2008 by Shurui, and last modified on 19:46:32 01/29/2008.