Ororo and Shinobi | Backdated to 10/10
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ax_mainOroro and Shinobi have a walk through the back garden. Her unusual perceptiveness takes him off-guard, but in a surprisingly positive way. You know, by Shinobi standards.
Though usually not one for wholesome things like fresh air and sunshine, Shinobi had no desire to lead a completely sedentary existence, either; if nothing else, a little exercise every now and again helped ameliorate some of the effects of his excesses. Besides, the weather was fine, and it would not be long before winter made pleasant strolls around the grounds infinitely less pleasant.
He walked through the garden at an idle, unhurried pace, pausing now and then to appreciate just how lovely it all was, even as it slowly lapsed into dormancy. It was cool enough for a coat, and the one he wore was gray, cut to the knee, and accented at the collar and cuffs with sable. The peace and quiet was enjoyable enough, in its own way, but he would have been lying if he'd pretended not to entertain at least some small hope he might stumble upon some interesting company during his afternoon perambulations.
Ororo thought that she had found the right location to plant the herbs she had been meaning to, and was on her way back to the mansion, by way of the air. There was no better way to travel, at least when no one was going to object to it. She felt a gaze upon her and looked down, to find a somewhat oddly dressed young Asian man gazing up at her. She hesitated, then landed a few feet beside him, wind whipping him about until it died down with her landing.
"Ohayou," he greeted with a casual wave as the unfamiliar girl descended to ground level. Flying teenagers were just the sort of interesting his afternoon had needed. "Lovely weather for a flight around the grounds, isn't it?" He smoothed his jacket where the breeze that had accompanied her shifted it very slightly out of place. "I've often said that if I could bring myself to envy anything, it would be the absolute freedom afforded by that particular attribute."
"I don't know that absolute freedom exists," Ororo replied, watching him curiously. He was not dressed in the way she expected students to dress. "Do you believe in it?"
"Of course," he told her cheerfully. "It's a tricky thing, naturally. But if I didn't think it were possible, then what would the point of it all be?"
"That is a good point," Ororo admitted, after a beat. "But some objectives are never meant to be reached."
Possibly not," he conceded. "But we can get fantastically close, sometimes." He held out a hand companionably. "Shinobi Shaw, at your service. My apologies; I don't usually get so bogged down in weighty philosophical conversation when making my introductions."
"Ororo Munroe," she answered, and gave his hand a firm shake. "We barely scratched the surface, I wouldn't call us bogged down just yet."
"Clearly, our tolerances are quite different," he observed with a grin, impressed despite himself by the handshake--it would have been perfectly suited to a boardroom setting. "Myself, I find I become burdened by anything weightier than dandelion fluff. I simply wasn't built for the more momentous considerations."
That was a whole lot of words, and not the easiest sort to follow. Ororo could figure out what he meant, but only thanks to some context-based guesswork, and it took her a second. "Living life like that must be interesting." Not to say impossible. Life had a way of throwing weightier considerations at you, didn't it.
"Far, far more interesting since I arrived here," Shinobi confided, still looking very pleased. "I mean, have you ever seen such a wonderful assortment of beautiful people all gathered up under one roof? It's like a fantasy I never even knew I had, until now--and given the scope of my imagination, that's really saying quite a lot."
Ororo was surprised; 'beautiful' was really not the first word that came to mind when she thought of the students. It was true, she supposed, come to think of it. "We are a pretty bunch," she confirmed, after consideration. "Does it really matter that much?"
"No, I suppose not," he conceded. "But it does make for a very welcome bonus. Mostly, I'm just delighted with how interesting everybody is. Really, it's the most fascinating boarding school I've ever experienced."
"It's my first boarding school," Ororo replied, lips quirked in a small smile. "So, same. Were you headed anywhere in particular?"
"Just enjoying a little stroll around the grounds before the weather gets too cold to bother anymore," he told her. "Please, don't let me keep you from anything. You've been more than charitably indulgent, so far."
"I don't have anything planned," Ororo replied, and raised her eyebrows slightly. "Want company?"
"Always," Shinobi said, surprised but pleased. He beckoned further down the garden path. "So. You fly. That's amazing. Did you get anything else from the mutant grab-bag?"
"That was wind control," Ororo answered, falling into step beside him. "I also do temperature, pressure, humidity, electricity... Anything to do with the weather."
Shinobi gave an appreciative whistle, at that--something he could never recall having done before in his life, prior to that moment. Still. Weather control. That was pretty much the dictionary definition of fantastic. "So, would that make you the one to thank for this unseasonable warm spell? My dislike of cabin fever and I are very grateful."
"You can thank global warming for that," Ororo shook her head with an amused smile. "I'm not going to disrupt everything to make sure we don't get too chilly too quickly." Now, if she could do something about global warming, she would. It was a shame she couldn't work on that scale.
He wrinkled his nose. "I'm reluctant to thank reckless, rapacious industry for anything. I mean, I suppose it is the source of all my power, but still. Aberrant weather patterns are nothing to be proud of." Shinobi glanced at her archly. "So, is there something you would disrupt everything for? I ask only because I want to know if I should invest in flood and hurricane insurance now."
Ororo frowned, ignoring his question for now. "What do you mean, it is the source of your power?"
"Rapacious industry made my father extremely wealthy, and I have, quite undeservedly, reaped the benefits of the same. It's an oblique sort of power, I suppose, but occasionally effective."
Ororo's brow cleared when she realized that he had not meant his mutant power; that had been confusing. "Money is power," she agreed. It was not the only form of power, but it was one, all the same.
"Much less interesting than controlling the weather," he grinned. "But I've found it useful, from time to time." One dark brow arched, disappearing into his artfully unkempt bangs, a quiet invitation to her to inquire about his other power, if she were interested.
Ororo watched the expression with mild amusement, then inclined his head. "If you want to tell me."
"I always want to tell everybody," Shinobi admitted. "But I'm a shameless braggart. It pains me so to attempt to be subtle." He held out an arm as they passed by a tree growing near the path, the limb phasing easily through the bark. "Personal molecular density control. It's a lesser sort of freedom than weather control, but still rather agreeable."
Ororo watched with interest, thinking of the other student who could walk through walls. "So you can also become more dense?"
"I can!" he told her enthusiastically. "Though I usually find that to be of lesser utility. I've only ever really used it the one time, and it was a bit traumatic."
"I'm sorry you went through that," Ororo told him genuinely, without a thought to asking more about that trauma. She knew something about not wanting to relive such moments. She shoved the thoughts firmly aside, then smiled, "But being able to walk wherever you like, that's something."
"Not so much as being able to fly wherever you like," he pointed out congenially. "But I appreciate the compliment, all the same." The other matter, he was just as happy to leave at rest; it wasn't much of a story, honestly, but it also wasn't something he like to recall in detail. For a variety of reasons.
"So," he went on, switching topics easily. "I have noted your accent, and, though of a cosmopolitan outlook and worldly disposition, I must admit I cannot place it. And one does hate to make assumptions."
Ororo looked amused at his phrasing, but only answered, "I grew up in Cairo." If her accent had been better before her parents' death, then she must have unlearned that since, mimicking what she heard around herself instead.
"How fascinating," he replied, more genuinely interested than suggested by his casual demeanor. Shinobi had not failed to note that deliberately ambiguous phrasing--it was an art with which he was extremely well-acquainted. "I grew up in Tokyo, myself, though I was born right here in New York. But I've never really felt as though I was from anywhere, in particular."
Well, that was a nice little coincidence. "Same, and same. Born in New York and not feeling from anywhere in particular," Ororo explained, shooting him an amused look.
"Yare yare, that's quite the interesting quirk of fortune, isn't it?" he mused. "I would suggest a toast to delayed homecomings, but I suppose that would ring a bit hollow given our ambivalence of feeling about it. I also seem to have left my toasting beverages in my other suit. C'est dommage."
"Sorry?" Ororo asked with a frown, not sure what he'd just said.
"Don't give it a second thought," Shinobi told her. "Just a lot of words, with little to no actual substance to them. I'm a great lover of the sound of my own voice. As you have no doubt noticed, by now."
"I would still like to know what you just said," Ororo answered evenly. She was not the sort to let anyone tell her something she did not understand.
"I was suggesting we should drink to our return," he clarified. It was not a courtesy he would have afforded many; usually, he preferred to talk in increasingly grandiloquent circles until the other party abandoned the conversation in a huff. But Ororo was actually interesting company, and interesting company was in much too short a supply to offend her so soon after their introductions. "But quickly gave up on the idea, since neither of us is all that enthusiastic about it. And I don't have anything on me, at the moment."
"No, I understood that," Ororo confirmed. "But at the end. Was it - French?" She could speak quite a few languages, but not that one. Still, she thought she could recognize it, even if it sounded different in his mouth than in that of most Africans she'd heard speak it.
"Forgive me," said Shinobi. "I've been accused from time to time of a certain tendency toward circumlocution, the kind that tends to obscure meaning rather than illuminate it. But you're quite correct; I did some time at an elegant gulag in Paris before my transfer to this much more interesting facility."
There were a number of words there Ororo did not understand, but she figured he had probably done that on purpose. So, instead of asking about any of them, she simply clarified, "You attended a school in Paris."
"I did, indeed," he affirmed with an amiable bob of his head. "Other than the attempts to force a practical education into my much-too-pretty-to-retain-knowledge head, it was a tolerably pleasant experience."
Ororo looked at Shinobi curiously. "Why do you play the - airhead?" She was not sure about that word, but she hoped it was the one she wanted.
The question almost caused him to miss a step, but Shinobi managed to maintain his congenial smile. It was rare enough for someone to see past his carefully-polished persona; rarer yet for him to be asked about it directly. Even Nolan had more tact that that.
This wasn't a lack of tact, though--at least, not as far as he could see. Unless he missed the mark completely, this was genuine interest. It actually succeeded in surprising an honest answer out of him. "Two reasons, mainly," the dark-eyed teen said. "The first is that it's fun; all life is performance, to some extent, and I prefer to play a part I enjoy. The second is that it's useful--airheads are rarely dangerous, except by accident."
"You like to be underestimated," Ororo replied, to check that she had understood his second reason.
"I find it useful to be underestimated," he said. "The distinction may be small, but I feel it's worth noting. My father, for example, would keep a much tighter leash on me if he thought I were capable of anything more than occasionally embarrassing him with my antics. And people are generally freer in their conversation when they think you lack the ability--or the interest required--to understand them."
"Those people don't sound like people worth talking with," Ororo decided after a moment. Not that she had never talked with the sort, but it had been out of obligation, not choice.
"On the basis of their personal charm alone, no," Shinobi agreed. "But there are all sorts of things one can derive from a conversation, beyond the mere pleasure of enjoyable company. One need only be attentive, neh?"
"That was never my strong suit," Ororo admitted. Which didn't mean she had never done it, or succeeded. Some of the thefts they had pulled, they'd needed a little extra information conversation would easily yield. If you knew what you were doing. "But it is a good skill to have. Useful," she echoed his earlier word.
"It's not the sort of lifestyle I would try to sell to anybody," he said, his odd streak of honesty seeming to hold, for reasons he wasn't able to articulate at that moment. "But it suits me well enough, so far. And I'm confident you have all sorts of other interesting, useful skills. We just had a moment, after all, and I'm usually as jaded as they come. It's been quite the revelation."
"I have a lot of useful skills," Ororo confirmed with a small, amused smile. "But having 'moments' might just be a consequence of knowing how to listen." She paused, then linked it back to what they were just saying. "And being able to afford picking better people to talk with."
Shinobi gave a delighted little cackle. "It's true what they say," he said ruefully. "There are some things money just cannot buy. Arigatou--that is to say, thank you--for indulging me this afternoon."
"You're welcome, Shinobi," Ororo told him with another amused smile. "The interest was mutual."
Though usually not one for wholesome things like fresh air and sunshine, Shinobi had no desire to lead a completely sedentary existence, either; if nothing else, a little exercise every now and again helped ameliorate some of the effects of his excesses. Besides, the weather was fine, and it would not be long before winter made pleasant strolls around the grounds infinitely less pleasant.
He walked through the garden at an idle, unhurried pace, pausing now and then to appreciate just how lovely it all was, even as it slowly lapsed into dormancy. It was cool enough for a coat, and the one he wore was gray, cut to the knee, and accented at the collar and cuffs with sable. The peace and quiet was enjoyable enough, in its own way, but he would have been lying if he'd pretended not to entertain at least some small hope he might stumble upon some interesting company during his afternoon perambulations.
Ororo thought that she had found the right location to plant the herbs she had been meaning to, and was on her way back to the mansion, by way of the air. There was no better way to travel, at least when no one was going to object to it. She felt a gaze upon her and looked down, to find a somewhat oddly dressed young Asian man gazing up at her. She hesitated, then landed a few feet beside him, wind whipping him about until it died down with her landing.
"Ohayou," he greeted with a casual wave as the unfamiliar girl descended to ground level. Flying teenagers were just the sort of interesting his afternoon had needed. "Lovely weather for a flight around the grounds, isn't it?" He smoothed his jacket where the breeze that had accompanied her shifted it very slightly out of place. "I've often said that if I could bring myself to envy anything, it would be the absolute freedom afforded by that particular attribute."
"I don't know that absolute freedom exists," Ororo replied, watching him curiously. He was not dressed in the way she expected students to dress. "Do you believe in it?"
"Of course," he told her cheerfully. "It's a tricky thing, naturally. But if I didn't think it were possible, then what would the point of it all be?"
"That is a good point," Ororo admitted, after a beat. "But some objectives are never meant to be reached."
Possibly not," he conceded. "But we can get fantastically close, sometimes." He held out a hand companionably. "Shinobi Shaw, at your service. My apologies; I don't usually get so bogged down in weighty philosophical conversation when making my introductions."
"Ororo Munroe," she answered, and gave his hand a firm shake. "We barely scratched the surface, I wouldn't call us bogged down just yet."
"Clearly, our tolerances are quite different," he observed with a grin, impressed despite himself by the handshake--it would have been perfectly suited to a boardroom setting. "Myself, I find I become burdened by anything weightier than dandelion fluff. I simply wasn't built for the more momentous considerations."
That was a whole lot of words, and not the easiest sort to follow. Ororo could figure out what he meant, but only thanks to some context-based guesswork, and it took her a second. "Living life like that must be interesting." Not to say impossible. Life had a way of throwing weightier considerations at you, didn't it.
"Far, far more interesting since I arrived here," Shinobi confided, still looking very pleased. "I mean, have you ever seen such a wonderful assortment of beautiful people all gathered up under one roof? It's like a fantasy I never even knew I had, until now--and given the scope of my imagination, that's really saying quite a lot."
Ororo was surprised; 'beautiful' was really not the first word that came to mind when she thought of the students. It was true, she supposed, come to think of it. "We are a pretty bunch," she confirmed, after consideration. "Does it really matter that much?"
"No, I suppose not," he conceded. "But it does make for a very welcome bonus. Mostly, I'm just delighted with how interesting everybody is. Really, it's the most fascinating boarding school I've ever experienced."
"It's my first boarding school," Ororo replied, lips quirked in a small smile. "So, same. Were you headed anywhere in particular?"
"Just enjoying a little stroll around the grounds before the weather gets too cold to bother anymore," he told her. "Please, don't let me keep you from anything. You've been more than charitably indulgent, so far."
"I don't have anything planned," Ororo replied, and raised her eyebrows slightly. "Want company?"
"Always," Shinobi said, surprised but pleased. He beckoned further down the garden path. "So. You fly. That's amazing. Did you get anything else from the mutant grab-bag?"
"That was wind control," Ororo answered, falling into step beside him. "I also do temperature, pressure, humidity, electricity... Anything to do with the weather."
Shinobi gave an appreciative whistle, at that--something he could never recall having done before in his life, prior to that moment. Still. Weather control. That was pretty much the dictionary definition of fantastic. "So, would that make you the one to thank for this unseasonable warm spell? My dislike of cabin fever and I are very grateful."
"You can thank global warming for that," Ororo shook her head with an amused smile. "I'm not going to disrupt everything to make sure we don't get too chilly too quickly." Now, if she could do something about global warming, she would. It was a shame she couldn't work on that scale.
He wrinkled his nose. "I'm reluctant to thank reckless, rapacious industry for anything. I mean, I suppose it is the source of all my power, but still. Aberrant weather patterns are nothing to be proud of." Shinobi glanced at her archly. "So, is there something you would disrupt everything for? I ask only because I want to know if I should invest in flood and hurricane insurance now."
Ororo frowned, ignoring his question for now. "What do you mean, it is the source of your power?"
"Rapacious industry made my father extremely wealthy, and I have, quite undeservedly, reaped the benefits of the same. It's an oblique sort of power, I suppose, but occasionally effective."
Ororo's brow cleared when she realized that he had not meant his mutant power; that had been confusing. "Money is power," she agreed. It was not the only form of power, but it was one, all the same.
"Much less interesting than controlling the weather," he grinned. "But I've found it useful, from time to time." One dark brow arched, disappearing into his artfully unkempt bangs, a quiet invitation to her to inquire about his other power, if she were interested.
Ororo watched the expression with mild amusement, then inclined his head. "If you want to tell me."
"I always want to tell everybody," Shinobi admitted. "But I'm a shameless braggart. It pains me so to attempt to be subtle." He held out an arm as they passed by a tree growing near the path, the limb phasing easily through the bark. "Personal molecular density control. It's a lesser sort of freedom than weather control, but still rather agreeable."
Ororo watched with interest, thinking of the other student who could walk through walls. "So you can also become more dense?"
"I can!" he told her enthusiastically. "Though I usually find that to be of lesser utility. I've only ever really used it the one time, and it was a bit traumatic."
"I'm sorry you went through that," Ororo told him genuinely, without a thought to asking more about that trauma. She knew something about not wanting to relive such moments. She shoved the thoughts firmly aside, then smiled, "But being able to walk wherever you like, that's something."
"Not so much as being able to fly wherever you like," he pointed out congenially. "But I appreciate the compliment, all the same." The other matter, he was just as happy to leave at rest; it wasn't much of a story, honestly, but it also wasn't something he like to recall in detail. For a variety of reasons.
"So," he went on, switching topics easily. "I have noted your accent, and, though of a cosmopolitan outlook and worldly disposition, I must admit I cannot place it. And one does hate to make assumptions."
Ororo looked amused at his phrasing, but only answered, "I grew up in Cairo." If her accent had been better before her parents' death, then she must have unlearned that since, mimicking what she heard around herself instead.
"How fascinating," he replied, more genuinely interested than suggested by his casual demeanor. Shinobi had not failed to note that deliberately ambiguous phrasing--it was an art with which he was extremely well-acquainted. "I grew up in Tokyo, myself, though I was born right here in New York. But I've never really felt as though I was from anywhere, in particular."
Well, that was a nice little coincidence. "Same, and same. Born in New York and not feeling from anywhere in particular," Ororo explained, shooting him an amused look.
"Yare yare, that's quite the interesting quirk of fortune, isn't it?" he mused. "I would suggest a toast to delayed homecomings, but I suppose that would ring a bit hollow given our ambivalence of feeling about it. I also seem to have left my toasting beverages in my other suit. C'est dommage."
"Sorry?" Ororo asked with a frown, not sure what he'd just said.
"Don't give it a second thought," Shinobi told her. "Just a lot of words, with little to no actual substance to them. I'm a great lover of the sound of my own voice. As you have no doubt noticed, by now."
"I would still like to know what you just said," Ororo answered evenly. She was not the sort to let anyone tell her something she did not understand.
"I was suggesting we should drink to our return," he clarified. It was not a courtesy he would have afforded many; usually, he preferred to talk in increasingly grandiloquent circles until the other party abandoned the conversation in a huff. But Ororo was actually interesting company, and interesting company was in much too short a supply to offend her so soon after their introductions. "But quickly gave up on the idea, since neither of us is all that enthusiastic about it. And I don't have anything on me, at the moment."
"No, I understood that," Ororo confirmed. "But at the end. Was it - French?" She could speak quite a few languages, but not that one. Still, she thought she could recognize it, even if it sounded different in his mouth than in that of most Africans she'd heard speak it.
"Forgive me," said Shinobi. "I've been accused from time to time of a certain tendency toward circumlocution, the kind that tends to obscure meaning rather than illuminate it. But you're quite correct; I did some time at an elegant gulag in Paris before my transfer to this much more interesting facility."
There were a number of words there Ororo did not understand, but she figured he had probably done that on purpose. So, instead of asking about any of them, she simply clarified, "You attended a school in Paris."
"I did, indeed," he affirmed with an amiable bob of his head. "Other than the attempts to force a practical education into my much-too-pretty-to-retain-knowledge head, it was a tolerably pleasant experience."
Ororo looked at Shinobi curiously. "Why do you play the - airhead?" She was not sure about that word, but she hoped it was the one she wanted.
The question almost caused him to miss a step, but Shinobi managed to maintain his congenial smile. It was rare enough for someone to see past his carefully-polished persona; rarer yet for him to be asked about it directly. Even Nolan had more tact that that.
This wasn't a lack of tact, though--at least, not as far as he could see. Unless he missed the mark completely, this was genuine interest. It actually succeeded in surprising an honest answer out of him. "Two reasons, mainly," the dark-eyed teen said. "The first is that it's fun; all life is performance, to some extent, and I prefer to play a part I enjoy. The second is that it's useful--airheads are rarely dangerous, except by accident."
"You like to be underestimated," Ororo replied, to check that she had understood his second reason.
"I find it useful to be underestimated," he said. "The distinction may be small, but I feel it's worth noting. My father, for example, would keep a much tighter leash on me if he thought I were capable of anything more than occasionally embarrassing him with my antics. And people are generally freer in their conversation when they think you lack the ability--or the interest required--to understand them."
"Those people don't sound like people worth talking with," Ororo decided after a moment. Not that she had never talked with the sort, but it had been out of obligation, not choice.
"On the basis of their personal charm alone, no," Shinobi agreed. "But there are all sorts of things one can derive from a conversation, beyond the mere pleasure of enjoyable company. One need only be attentive, neh?"
"That was never my strong suit," Ororo admitted. Which didn't mean she had never done it, or succeeded. Some of the thefts they had pulled, they'd needed a little extra information conversation would easily yield. If you knew what you were doing. "But it is a good skill to have. Useful," she echoed his earlier word.
"It's not the sort of lifestyle I would try to sell to anybody," he said, his odd streak of honesty seeming to hold, for reasons he wasn't able to articulate at that moment. "But it suits me well enough, so far. And I'm confident you have all sorts of other interesting, useful skills. We just had a moment, after all, and I'm usually as jaded as they come. It's been quite the revelation."
"I have a lot of useful skills," Ororo confirmed with a small, amused smile. "But having 'moments' might just be a consequence of knowing how to listen." She paused, then linked it back to what they were just saying. "And being able to afford picking better people to talk with."
Shinobi gave a delighted little cackle. "It's true what they say," he said ruefully. "There are some things money just cannot buy. Arigatou--that is to say, thank you--for indulging me this afternoon."
"You're welcome, Shinobi," Ororo told him with another amused smile. "The interest was mutual."
