Sir Michael's New Squire [Closed/Active]
Characters: Michael Carpenter and Tamahome.
Content: Michael swings by the coffee shop to pick up his new Chinese houseboy apprentice.
Setting: Vispo Volpe/Residential Area.
Time: Thursday-ish, late afternoon.
Warnings: Um, a teeny bit of Chinese in brackets?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The young man sat in front of one of the two computers in the corner of the coffee shop for public use, glaring distrustingly at the screen. One bag was plopped at his feet while the smaller one sat in a chair he had pulled up to him. He had a mug of some beverage near him, although no steam rose from the top so it must have cooled down. He wore traditional Chinese clothing, black pants with a long red tunic with a mandarin collar. In deference to the warmth still lingering about the city his sleeves were cuffed, revealing a white underside.
Tamahome picked up his tea to take a sip, making a face and then sighing, his shoulders slumping when he discovered it had gone cold.
Michael had managed to get to the cafe, and he entered, looking around to take in the surroundings. He was still wearing his work clothing -- a button-down shirt and trousers, and a pair of solid-looking boots. He had only a description of Tamahome, from Tokaki's letter, but the young man in the obviously foreign clothing looked like a likely candidate.
He walked up to Tamahome. "Excuse me?" he said. "Would you happen to be Tamahome?"
The boy looked over and up at the other man, grey eyes flickering over him in a quick study. He nodded, his inherent shyness rising up when it came time to open his mouth and actually greet the older man. "…yes. Michael?"
He stood, clenching his hand in his smaller bag.
"Right." Michael extended a hand halfway, before pausing a moment and giving a slight bow. "It's nice to meet you in person."
Tamahome gave a quick bow back, not sure what to say. "Nice to meet you," he said, although it sounded awkward, like a phrase he had learned from a book and practiced by repeating it over and over again. He chewed his bottom lip, reaching for the smaller bag again.
"I have the letter. Ah - " he paused, not sure if he should give it to Michael now or wait.
"I can read it when I get home." Michael said. "Do you have a place to stay yet?"
Tamahome shook his head. As if on cue, his stomach growled and a faint blush danced across his cheek.
"Well, we better find that. And some dinner,” Michael paused. "I think I could make some room for you at my house. It would be a bit cramped, though."
His blush deepening a little, Tamahome nodded gratefully. "It's okay," he said, a small smile flickering on his face. "I have a big family at home."
"Ah. I don't know if Tokaki mentioned it, but I have a lot of children," Michael said. "So I have a big family as well."
Ah, there was a definite smile on Tamahome's face. Tokaki and Subaru had recently adopted a daughter but his time with them had been very different from his small, crowded house with his father and siblings. "I - - Can I meet them?"
"Of course." Michael said. "You're welcome to come to dinner, which would solve two problems at once. I'd just have to let my wife know."
The Chinese boy nodded, moving away from the computer in case Michael wanted to use it for anything. "Thank you," he said, glancing about the coffee house a moment, as if still somewhat bewildered at finding himself in this strange new city.
"It's not a problem. It can be difficult to adapt to a new location. Have you traveled much before this?"
Tamahome shook his head. "In China, a little. But never this far. Just from home to the city, to sell things. The market is better there."
"I see. It must have been an interesting trip for you," MIchael said.
The teen nodded again. "Master -- ah, Tokaki -- bought me a ticket for the train and helped me get there."
Okay, so he was aware that Tokaki bought him the ticket and saw him off because he knew that left on his own Tamahome would have sold the ticket and sent the money back home, then tried to WALK to Italy... All the same, it was nice to be able to say goodbye to the man who'd helped him so much, even if Subaru had cried so much his shoulder was soaked for a good half-hour afterwards.
"Good." Michael said. "I hope it wasn't too difficult for you."
The shrug in reply was more teenage bravado than anything but it worked well enough. After the train, there had still been a good bit of walking and hitch-hiking to get this far, and despite a quick wash-up in the coffee house bathroom, he was still tired, dirty, and footsore. And hungry...
"It's okay." His fingers tightened on his bag again. He had a letter of his own in there too. "Is there a post office close?"
Michael paused for a moment. "I think there's one about five minutes away."
Tamahome nodded. "I want to send a letter to my father."
"Good idea," Michael said. "I'll walk you there, and then we can head to my house."
"Okay," Tamahome smiled a little. He slung his bag around one shoulder. He had some questions to ask Michael, but he wasn't sure if this was a good place to ask them.
Michael led the way out of the coffee shop and down the street. "Is there anything else you need to do while we're out?"
Tamahome considered the contents of his bag, following. He had a couple of changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and some things to try and sell later on. And his weapons of course... He couldn't think of anything he really needed. "No, nothing I need."
"Good," Michael said. "If you think of anything, just let me know."
A nod. Glancing about, Tamahome decided there was enough space between them and other people now to venture a question or two. "Um..." he paused shyly, "why did-you-agree-to-train-me?"
The last bit of the sentence was blurted out rapidly with a helping of embarrassment at asking.
"Tokaki spoke well of you," Michael said. "And, well, the world is getting to be a darker place. I don't think any of my own children are interested in following in my footsteps. At least, not directly."
"Do you have many... troubles here?" Tamahome asked, picking up on the bit about the world being a darker place and feeling on more solid ground when discussing anything related to fighting.
"Some," Michael said. "And some things that could turn into trouble. We get a lot of travelers here.
"Ah." The teen looked around. "This is a bigger city than the mine. Although I think our capital is even bigger," he added defensively, out of loyalty to his home country.
"Probably," Michael agreed. "You'll get used to it, though."
"How long do you think?" he asked without meaning to, a note of wistful homesickness in his voice.
"It depends. Shorter if you try to interact with some of the people here. Longer if you only speak to me," Michael said. "Not that I'm telling you to not speak to me -- I am to be your teacher, after all."
Pink bloomed in the boy's cheeks and he fell silent, looking away and studying the streets and people again.
"The journals might help with that," Michael said. "It's a bit easier to meet people your age that way."
"Journals?" He wasn't familiar with that word.
"The system you were using to send messages. I've seen people call it an online journal or weblog."
Oh!
"Oh, that! It's only in the city, right?" Which was perfectly fine, considering his family didn't have a computer and he didn't actually have any friends his own age back in China.
"Right," Michael said. "There's no phone or internet connection outside of the city. Letter still seem to go through fine though, if you're worried, unless the city is under quarantine."
"Qua -- rin -- teen?" he sounded out, not familiar with that word either.
"The city government sometimes locks the city down -- no one can come in or out. There's supposed to be a virus going around," Michael dropped his voice. "It's generally best to not ask questions about it publically, but it has something to do with the supernatural activity in the city. I have a friend who is investigating it."
"Chry -." Tamahome shut his mouth on the word and just nodded. Tokaki had warned him about an organization that was running in Allupato, one he'd have to be careful about.
"Exactly," Michael said. "Don't worry that much about it. I'll watch out for you."
“I'm a good fighter," Tamahome reassured him. "Tokaki says so, that I'm as good as him," he added proudly.
"Good," Michael nodded. "I'll be testing that, though."
"No problem." He gave a confident grin, feeling much more sure of that than his ability to navigate this city and instruct the postman that he wanted to send his letter to China.
Michael made a right at the next intersection. "We're almost there."
Tamahome made a note of the turn in his head, trying to picture the city and draw a mental map. He gave a little frown and traced a route in the air with his finger, trying to make sense of the twists and turns.
"What are you doing?" Michael asked curiously.
{First lesson, know your terrain better than your opponents,} he said, slipping back into Chinese as he remember what Tokaki had taught him.
"Hmm?" Michael recognized that the language was Chinese, but couldn't catch more than that.
"I'm sorry." Tamahome struggled, trying to think how to translate the sentance and failing. "I don't know how to say it," he apologized.
"It's all right," Michael said. "It took me a while to be fluent in Italian. I still have a bit of an accent."
"Subaru and Tokaki tried to teach me but... they're hard," he said quietly, making a face. He had hated having to study languages with a passion, doing it because he knew he had to but dreading every lesson.
"They're easier to learn by speaking them," MIchael said. "Or maybe just harder to avoid. If you want to travel, they're necessary."
Tamahome tilted his head. He slid his bag to the side to dig out the letter as they walked, clenching it tightly.
"You'll get better with practice."
"Most people here speak English and Italian?"
Michael nodded. "Though there's been a lot of recent immigrants from Japan."
Tamahome made a face. "I don't know any Japanese," he said firmly.
"I only know a bit, from my old master," Michael said.
“He was Japanese?"
"Yes. From Kyoto." Michael said.
"Have you been there? Or to China? I'm from south." he added, curious.
"No. I've never made it outside of Europe," Michael said. "If I hadn't met Charity, my wife, and settled down, I might have tried to make the trip. Perhaps later, when the kids are older."
"How old are they?" Tamahome knew he'd met them later but he was curious. The idea of visiting with an actual family was exciting; it felt like a long time since he had said goodbye to his own.
"My oldest, Molly is 17. Harry, my youngest, is nearly 5. In between them are Daniel, Matthew, Alicia, Amanda, and Hope." Michael said.
Tamahome counted as the older man named them off. "Seven," he said, impressed. "There's only five of us."
"It's a big family," Michael said.
A tiny smile crossed Tamahome’s lips and he looked down at his letter. Yuiren wasn't too much older than Michael's youngest. She had just turned six this year.
Content: Michael swings by the coffee shop to pick up his new Chinese houseboy apprentice.
Setting: Vispo Volpe/Residential Area.
Time: Thursday-ish, late afternoon.
Warnings: Um, a teeny bit of Chinese in brackets?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The young man sat in front of one of the two computers in the corner of the coffee shop for public use, glaring distrustingly at the screen. One bag was plopped at his feet while the smaller one sat in a chair he had pulled up to him. He had a mug of some beverage near him, although no steam rose from the top so it must have cooled down. He wore traditional Chinese clothing, black pants with a long red tunic with a mandarin collar. In deference to the warmth still lingering about the city his sleeves were cuffed, revealing a white underside.
Tamahome picked up his tea to take a sip, making a face and then sighing, his shoulders slumping when he discovered it had gone cold.
Michael had managed to get to the cafe, and he entered, looking around to take in the surroundings. He was still wearing his work clothing -- a button-down shirt and trousers, and a pair of solid-looking boots. He had only a description of Tamahome, from Tokaki's letter, but the young man in the obviously foreign clothing looked like a likely candidate.
He walked up to Tamahome. "Excuse me?" he said. "Would you happen to be Tamahome?"
The boy looked over and up at the other man, grey eyes flickering over him in a quick study. He nodded, his inherent shyness rising up when it came time to open his mouth and actually greet the older man. "…yes. Michael?"
He stood, clenching his hand in his smaller bag.
"Right." Michael extended a hand halfway, before pausing a moment and giving a slight bow. "It's nice to meet you in person."
Tamahome gave a quick bow back, not sure what to say. "Nice to meet you," he said, although it sounded awkward, like a phrase he had learned from a book and practiced by repeating it over and over again. He chewed his bottom lip, reaching for the smaller bag again.
"I have the letter. Ah - " he paused, not sure if he should give it to Michael now or wait.
"I can read it when I get home." Michael said. "Do you have a place to stay yet?"
Tamahome shook his head. As if on cue, his stomach growled and a faint blush danced across his cheek.
"Well, we better find that. And some dinner,” Michael paused. "I think I could make some room for you at my house. It would be a bit cramped, though."
His blush deepening a little, Tamahome nodded gratefully. "It's okay," he said, a small smile flickering on his face. "I have a big family at home."
"Ah. I don't know if Tokaki mentioned it, but I have a lot of children," Michael said. "So I have a big family as well."
Ah, there was a definite smile on Tamahome's face. Tokaki and Subaru had recently adopted a daughter but his time with them had been very different from his small, crowded house with his father and siblings. "I - - Can I meet them?"
"Of course." Michael said. "You're welcome to come to dinner, which would solve two problems at once. I'd just have to let my wife know."
The Chinese boy nodded, moving away from the computer in case Michael wanted to use it for anything. "Thank you," he said, glancing about the coffee house a moment, as if still somewhat bewildered at finding himself in this strange new city.
"It's not a problem. It can be difficult to adapt to a new location. Have you traveled much before this?"
Tamahome shook his head. "In China, a little. But never this far. Just from home to the city, to sell things. The market is better there."
"I see. It must have been an interesting trip for you," MIchael said.
The teen nodded again. "Master -- ah, Tokaki -- bought me a ticket for the train and helped me get there."
Okay, so he was aware that Tokaki bought him the ticket and saw him off because he knew that left on his own Tamahome would have sold the ticket and sent the money back home, then tried to WALK to Italy... All the same, it was nice to be able to say goodbye to the man who'd helped him so much, even if Subaru had cried so much his shoulder was soaked for a good half-hour afterwards.
"Good." Michael said. "I hope it wasn't too difficult for you."
The shrug in reply was more teenage bravado than anything but it worked well enough. After the train, there had still been a good bit of walking and hitch-hiking to get this far, and despite a quick wash-up in the coffee house bathroom, he was still tired, dirty, and footsore. And hungry...
"It's okay." His fingers tightened on his bag again. He had a letter of his own in there too. "Is there a post office close?"
Michael paused for a moment. "I think there's one about five minutes away."
Tamahome nodded. "I want to send a letter to my father."
"Good idea," Michael said. "I'll walk you there, and then we can head to my house."
"Okay," Tamahome smiled a little. He slung his bag around one shoulder. He had some questions to ask Michael, but he wasn't sure if this was a good place to ask them.
Michael led the way out of the coffee shop and down the street. "Is there anything else you need to do while we're out?"
Tamahome considered the contents of his bag, following. He had a couple of changes of clothes, a toothbrush, and some things to try and sell later on. And his weapons of course... He couldn't think of anything he really needed. "No, nothing I need."
"Good," Michael said. "If you think of anything, just let me know."
A nod. Glancing about, Tamahome decided there was enough space between them and other people now to venture a question or two. "Um..." he paused shyly, "why did-you-agree-to-train-me?"
The last bit of the sentence was blurted out rapidly with a helping of embarrassment at asking.
"Tokaki spoke well of you," Michael said. "And, well, the world is getting to be a darker place. I don't think any of my own children are interested in following in my footsteps. At least, not directly."
"Do you have many... troubles here?" Tamahome asked, picking up on the bit about the world being a darker place and feeling on more solid ground when discussing anything related to fighting.
"Some," Michael said. "And some things that could turn into trouble. We get a lot of travelers here.
"Ah." The teen looked around. "This is a bigger city than the mine. Although I think our capital is even bigger," he added defensively, out of loyalty to his home country.
"Probably," Michael agreed. "You'll get used to it, though."
"How long do you think?" he asked without meaning to, a note of wistful homesickness in his voice.
"It depends. Shorter if you try to interact with some of the people here. Longer if you only speak to me," Michael said. "Not that I'm telling you to not speak to me -- I am to be your teacher, after all."
Pink bloomed in the boy's cheeks and he fell silent, looking away and studying the streets and people again.
"The journals might help with that," Michael said. "It's a bit easier to meet people your age that way."
"Journals?" He wasn't familiar with that word.
"The system you were using to send messages. I've seen people call it an online journal or weblog."
Oh!
"Oh, that! It's only in the city, right?" Which was perfectly fine, considering his family didn't have a computer and he didn't actually have any friends his own age back in China.
"Right," Michael said. "There's no phone or internet connection outside of the city. Letter still seem to go through fine though, if you're worried, unless the city is under quarantine."
"Qua -- rin -- teen?" he sounded out, not familiar with that word either.
"The city government sometimes locks the city down -- no one can come in or out. There's supposed to be a virus going around," Michael dropped his voice. "It's generally best to not ask questions about it publically, but it has something to do with the supernatural activity in the city. I have a friend who is investigating it."
"Chry -." Tamahome shut his mouth on the word and just nodded. Tokaki had warned him about an organization that was running in Allupato, one he'd have to be careful about.
"Exactly," Michael said. "Don't worry that much about it. I'll watch out for you."
“I'm a good fighter," Tamahome reassured him. "Tokaki says so, that I'm as good as him," he added proudly.
"Good," Michael nodded. "I'll be testing that, though."
"No problem." He gave a confident grin, feeling much more sure of that than his ability to navigate this city and instruct the postman that he wanted to send his letter to China.
Michael made a right at the next intersection. "We're almost there."
Tamahome made a note of the turn in his head, trying to picture the city and draw a mental map. He gave a little frown and traced a route in the air with his finger, trying to make sense of the twists and turns.
"What are you doing?" Michael asked curiously.
{First lesson, know your terrain better than your opponents,} he said, slipping back into Chinese as he remember what Tokaki had taught him.
"Hmm?" Michael recognized that the language was Chinese, but couldn't catch more than that.
"I'm sorry." Tamahome struggled, trying to think how to translate the sentance and failing. "I don't know how to say it," he apologized.
"It's all right," Michael said. "It took me a while to be fluent in Italian. I still have a bit of an accent."
"Subaru and Tokaki tried to teach me but... they're hard," he said quietly, making a face. He had hated having to study languages with a passion, doing it because he knew he had to but dreading every lesson.
"They're easier to learn by speaking them," MIchael said. "Or maybe just harder to avoid. If you want to travel, they're necessary."
Tamahome tilted his head. He slid his bag to the side to dig out the letter as they walked, clenching it tightly.
"You'll get better with practice."
"Most people here speak English and Italian?"
Michael nodded. "Though there's been a lot of recent immigrants from Japan."
Tamahome made a face. "I don't know any Japanese," he said firmly.
"I only know a bit, from my old master," Michael said.
“He was Japanese?"
"Yes. From Kyoto." Michael said.
"Have you been there? Or to China? I'm from south." he added, curious.
"No. I've never made it outside of Europe," Michael said. "If I hadn't met Charity, my wife, and settled down, I might have tried to make the trip. Perhaps later, when the kids are older."
"How old are they?" Tamahome knew he'd met them later but he was curious. The idea of visiting with an actual family was exciting; it felt like a long time since he had said goodbye to his own.
"My oldest, Molly is 17. Harry, my youngest, is nearly 5. In between them are Daniel, Matthew, Alicia, Amanda, and Hope." Michael said.
Tamahome counted as the older man named them off. "Seven," he said, impressed. "There's only five of us."
"It's a big family," Michael said.
A tiny smile crossed Tamahome’s lips and he looked down at his letter. Yuiren wasn't too much older than Michael's youngest. She had just turned six this year.