coolerjunpei | expi inbox

Thanks for that expert description, [ charles says and fights back more laughter, but it spills over into the way his voice lilts — though he rolls his eyes, then, as junpei takes another sip. ]

Oi, if you don't like it, you don't have to keep drinking it. Maybe you forgot, but there's more where that came from. Like, loads. The lady at the store looked at me like I was a bit mental.

[ and then charles had spent a few minutes trying to convince her that he's not, in fact, an alcoholic or trying to drown his sorrows or something, and had possibly just made things worse. anyway — ]

Hm, alcoholic or not? Cause for alcoholic drinks, it's gotta be that one from the club I used to sneak into, near the boarding school I went to. They'd let me in, but the barkeep, well, he'd only sell me a few things, but there was this one drink, they called it The Swerve. No bloody clue what was in it, but it was real good. A bit sweet, a bit sharp. Have a couple and you'd get this pleasant buzz, you know? Not too much, but just enough.

Am I supposed to throw out alcohol? On my birthday?

[Faux-affronted; this can of hard juice cost money!! He's going to drink it out of a misplaced sense of obligation to Money Spent, more or less. But maybe save the rest of the cocktails for the movie night crowd...

Sneaking into clubs from boarding school sounds way cooler than Junpei's foray into underage drinking, that is, wait for the friend with the fake ID to buy something cheap - maybe he'd know more about cocktails if he snuck into more clubs! Alas.]

Okay, Goldilocks and the Three Drinks. I've never heard of that one, but again: most cocktails are just pretty and expensive to me, so... [Shrug!] You do a lot of sneaking?

You're supposed to do whatever the hell you want, on your birthday.

[ but, alright — if he's that determined, then charles isn't going to argue. maybe he'll just pick a beer for him as his next drink, though.

a sharp oi! is his response to the creation of a new fairy tale, but he doesn't comment on it otherwise, instead choosing to answer the question, shrugging one shoulder. ]

Guess you could say that. First to get out of the house, you know, and then from school — I mean, St. Hil's was real stuffy, you know, all posh white boys from rich families. I was there on sports scholarship. Some of the lads in the team would sneak out with me, go clubbing. Think they were in it for the booze, but I, well, you know. The music scene was pretty aces, getting to talk to people who weren't — [ he waves his hand to indicate what he said earlier about most of the boys at school ] — yeah, it was fun.

[Sssssip. This is what he wants to do, drink this mid-tier cocktail here on the floor, listening to boarding school stories. It's a whole party.]

I don't really know a lot of posh white boys. [Maybe one, but does it count if he's a fellow weirdo, probably not,] And I've only ever been to cheap bars, without any sneaking, so I'm gonna believe you about the relative fun levels.

[He elects not to say that he was actually quite boring in school, instead taking another swig of fizzy grapefruit.]

What kind of music? Something fast, I bet. You're... [he wiggles the can at Charles, vaguely,] peppy? Not poppy.

Wait, do I need to take you clubbing?

[ charles is — well, the grin blooming on his face is kind of like the sun coming up, really, with the way his eyes light up and all. he hastens to add, though, entirely sincerely, ] I mean, if it's not your thing, I get it, won't be offended. But the offer's there.

[ right, there was a question, wasn't there? in an answer, his outfit flickers; he'd arrived with just his red polo shirt on, but now, in a blink (because ghost clothes, much like ghost everything, depends entirely on the will; if he wills that he's wearing certain things, he is) he's dressed in his black overcoat, with the pins adorning the lapels. he points to one of them that reads ska. ]

Here's one answer. Two-tone and ska're pretty aces, but I like other stuff, too — Freddie was brills, yeah? [ mercury, obviously. ] And you know The Church? Like, the band. It's a bit more chill, but I like that, too.

Are there clubs here? [Genuine question, he doesn't know. He also thinks he'd be the most awkward person in any given club by default, but that's not necessarily a no. Going from DIY movie night in the park to Clubbing seems-- doable? Like, he could do that, maybe?

He'll think about it. The ghost outfit change makes him blink, then he leans forward to squint at the pins.]

I know who Freddie was...? [ha ha... what's two-tone, he was born in 2006,] There's probably not a bunch of albums sitting around this city, huh.

No idea. We could find out?

[ making use of his height, he leans his arm on junpei's shoulder as he smiles his most convincing smile and even bats his eyes a couple of times, for good measure, entirely shameless. (look, don't at him, he's had thirty-odd years to perfect his puppy eyes look and this particular combination has not failed him so far!)

and then he's distracted from that by the fact that clearly there's more of 80s wonders he needs to teach junpei. though — ] Yeah, shit, you're probably right. I'll figure out a way to get some, though, I promise. Introduce you to some good music.

[ a pause. ] But enough about me, yeah? What do you listen to?

[This is probably an unfair use of height, actually, but Junpei simply raises an eyebrow at him over his fizzy grapefruit. It's not not working, but give him a second to, well, drink the rest of this can in a swift chug—]

—Sure, why not.

[Maybe there will be off-brand 80s music at the club! Who can say. He nudges the bag of drinks with his knee so he can better reach it, considering the next one immediately after chugging like a third of this grapefruit cocktail. It's fine.]

I listened to the radio, I guess... Before I moved out, my mom had a lot of city pop records, so I absorbed that stuff. And then, uh, I don't know when they came up with this actually, but they make these compilations of hit songs? They're numbered. I had a bunch of those, but not all of them.

[now that's what i call normie music taste]

[ oh no, are his puppy eyes driving him to drink, is that's what's happening here —

no, never mind, charles just beams at his agreement (a bit lackluster though it is, but hey, he'll take his wins where he can!) and settles back down to his spot on the floor, actually shrugging off his coat this time, instead of letting it disappear; he drops it into a heap next to him. ]

City pop? Huh, not sure if I know that. Gotta see if I can find some records. [ at the mention of the compilations, charles brightens up. ] Hey, I know those! I used those to catch up with modern stuff. Pretty easy, right, when it's all gathered together, yeah?

[ shifting in place, he leans his elbow against his knee, slouched over as he fixes junpei with an intent look. ] Actually, don't think I know where you're from, or what you've done, you know, aside from the whole PI thing.

[Let him have another drink and then maybe his agreements to activities will be more spunky, okay—

More importantly, oh? A fellow Now! enthusiast? This is an actual surprise.]

Wait, really? They've got a ton these days— I even had some knockoff CDs.

[Fondly recalling his ancient copy of Totally Hits 2 for a moment as he says this, so jot that down as a new Junpei Lore Fact. He picks a completely grapefruit-less beer, leaning back against the wall to think about what he should share... He is truly just some guy, so, hmm.]

I'm from Japan. We moved to the States when I was, like, twelve... [Meanwhile he's eyeing this beer like maybe he'll just try to twist the cap off with his hands and the hem of his shirt, that seems like a good idea—] Uh, I went to school, then to college, then I got kidnapped the first time, then I dropped out to do the PI thing. Then I got kidnapped the second time.

[Which sounds like a bummer all in a row, so he'll throw in,] I collected sneakers for a while, that was fun.

Really. I like keeping up with pop culture stuff.

[ said with a small shrug; he's not as well-versed as he could be, not with most of his time having gone to case work, but they did have plenty of free time too and when you don't have to sleep, well, suddenly there's at least seven more hours in the day to just devote to listening to new music and sneaking into concerts or movies, or, in some memorable occasions, movie sets. handy when no one can see you and all that!

as junpei grabs the beer and seems to contemplate how to open it, charles reaches into his overcoat pocket and produces a bottle opener, sliding it over the floor to the other. ]

Huh, so right now, are you speaking English or Japanese? [ he wonders if he's hearing his actual words, or if it's translated. somehow, it matters.

and then he's launching into his very brief and mildly depressing life story, and charles — well, charles evaluates his options, and after a few seconds, scoots to where junpei's sitting with his back on the wall and just settles there next to him instead of being across from him as he was. he slides against the wall a bit so that he's sitting kind of slumped over, a triangle of air between his back and the wall, a position that'd be uncomfortable if he could feel it; but it allows him to sit more or less level with his friend, so that's really what matters. ]

Sneakers sound aces, [ he says with a small grin, then, instead of anything else. ]

[One day they can compare notes on pop CD compilations, and Junpei can insist that Now! 4 was the best one. Bonding experience.

For now, he says "oh" to the bottle opener and lets go of the mess he's about to make of a fistful of his shirt hem, picking it up to open the beer properly. Thanks for the save...]

Right now? English. I mostly only speak Japanese with family, these days.

[Which is a nicer tidbit of information than his sad backstory, he figures, so it's worth sharing. Not that he's all that hung up on sharing the worst things that have happened to him after Charles figured out that one time, he quantum-died by dismemberment, but. Still.

Sharing the nicer little things feels like the same kind of gesture as whatever Charles is doing with his slouch right now; Junpei raises the beer in response. Cheers to his cool sneaker collection, yeah.]

They were. Shame I didn't bring any here, I'm going to be stuck wearing crap when this pair goes. Just picture me in wooden clogs.

[he's assuming it's clogs.]

[ he may be without his bag of tricks, here, but he does still carry around a number of useful items. and it'd have been silly to bring a bunch of bottles but no bottle opener, now wouldn't it?

the mention of his family makes charles smile and nod. ]

Cool. My Mum tried to teach me some Urdu, you know, until Dad thought it was stupid so we stopped. I tried studying on my own afterwards, but not like there were classes I could go to, and then St. Hil's had mandatory Latin — [ he shrugs; he'd tried asking if he couldn't learn what was his mother's native language, instead, but the headmaster had spouted some nonsense and denied him and that had been that, and anyway then he'd died. so that was the end of his language learning.

he laughs at the mention of wooden clogs, because, really? but, hm, ] Well, I've heard some people say that shit from home sometimes shows up here, yeah? Maybe your collection will show up, too. Save you from the evil clutches of Dutch shoes or whatnot.

[ and in the meantime... if he's able to find hoodies in the local stores, they gotta have sneakers, too. maybe this solves his problem of what to get junpei as a birthday present. ]

[Junpei samples the beer, meanwhile, and gives it a brief thumbs up of approval for not being grapefruit. Or the cheap crap he usually buys for himself. This one's a winner.]

If my shoes show up, I'm gonna have to get a bigger room. [It's not that many, but it's enough for a dedicated shelf, and where would he keep that in here.] But Latin, wow. Everyone I know who speaks even a little Latin is kind of a nerd, so... [assigned nerd. Congrats.] And Urdu iiiis... South Asian? I'm not a languages guy.

[Or a geography guy, really, so please don't ask him linguistic and/or geographical facts. He's doing his best.]

Oi, [ charles says, mock-offended, pressing a hand on his chest as if wounded. but it's true — he may have never learned much at school, but it's been impossible not to have picked up some things over the years, what with a lot of the spells edwin uses being in latin — but then, edwin also speaks ancient aramaic among other things, so maybe charles' metric of what's normal to know is a bit skewed.

instead, he gives junpei an easy grin. ] I'm half-Indian.

[ and then, with a teasing edge, ] You know that much of geography, yeah? Where India is on the map?

[Junpei gives him a grin right back— for the nerd thing, specifically. Ribbing him about the map is, also, a nerd thing.]

Yeah, I've seen a map before, I remember. It's huge. And kind of under China.

[R...right...?? He takes a heartier swig of the Good Beer and nudges Charles' leg with his foot, for getting on him like that. Have mercy.]

Before this place, I was in Nevada. Can you find Nevada on a US map?

[ shit, is it possible to have become some kind of nerd/jock hybrid... he's invented a new kind of being.

charles, in an answer to the little foot nudge, just knocks their shoulders together, ducking his head and laughing. ]

I mean, "under China" is a pretty broad descriptor, mate. [ but alright, fine, he'll let that go! what he won't let go is nevada — ]

Well, no, but you just described the most populous country in the world as being, I repeat, "under China", so... [ did he say he'd let that go? wrong. his grin is very, very pointed and very, very bright. ]

What were you doing in Nevada? Or is that where you live? You said you'd moved to the States.

Are you telling me it's not? It's there.

[There's no defense, but in Junpei's defense, he is 1.5 drinks in. Would his answer have been different before the cocktail? Maybe!

Probably not. He's giving himself a point for making Charles laugh, so like, should he learn geography? It seems to be working out just fine that he hasn't.]

I volunteered for this, uh, space mission test run thing? [Read: bullied his way in, but that's a) just details and b) something he now suspects was planned all along by people who weren't him, so.] We were supposed to be seeing how viable it'd be to send people to a remote Mars mission, you know, with limited company and nowhere else to go.

But I did go to school kiiind of nearby. Sort of. Not, like, the middle of the desert nearby.

Wait, for real?

[ because that sounds pretty fucking cool, that, and charles tilts his head to look at junpei, his expression both surprised and admiring.

(and yeah, he hears the "supposed to", and just — chooses to ignore it, at least for now.) ]

So you went to school for that stuff, too? Like — space, and all that?

Oh, uh, no. This was all volunteer. One of the guys there was a firefighter, and another one worked in an ice cream parlor— we were supposed to get paid at the end? I guess we were basically the mice in the Mars experiment.

[Not that that's necessarily a bad thing; yes, it turned out bad, there's that "supposed to" again, but a bunch of volunteers for an experiment is just how these things work.]

There were some volunteer studies in college, too, where they just wanted you to take a survey or whatever for a paper they were writing. So like that, but big and official.

[He did a lot of those for the complementary snacks offered, maybe, yeah. He hums and slouches down a bit, to enjoy his beer as he becomes progressively more boneless.]

Do you have a pen and paper somewhere in your mystery pockets? [carrying around a bottle opener has stuck with him, sooooo...]

Still, [ charles smiles, not at all deterred by the fact that it was all volunteer work, ] That was pretty good of you, signing up for that.

[ the question makes him snort as if it's a silly thing to ask; instead of getting up, he nudges at his coat with his foot and then pulls it closer until he can stick his hand into one of the pockets and pull out, yeah, a notebook and pen.

he hands them over with a little bow, just because he can, and says, his voice affecting a posh, sharp british accent clearly different from his own, ] A good detective never fails to carry with him the means of note-making.

Yeah, a job's a job.

[Here where job means he had ulterior motives, but that's still details! He puts his beer down to take the notebook and pen, flipping to a fresh page with a murmured oh, thanks.

And with a raised eyebrow and a little grin,] Dork.

[For the accent and the bow, that is. Anyway, this request was actually for space-and-all-that, kind of. He jots down his name at the top of the page, 天明寺 Tenmyouji (and then a smaller "淳平 <- Junpei" in the corner, for reference).]

Here, look. [He'll help, tilting sideways to knock against Charles' shoulder again and hold the notebook up. He points with the pen, adding notes in the form of little doodles, the first being just a dark scribble with a star next to it:] Ten, this one, that's "space."

[A tiny sun and moon next,] Myō, sun and moon, and ji is the earth. Well, if you read it like terra, so there's your Latin.

[That one is just a circle with wiggles on it. He's not good at geography, after all.] —So, Tenmyouji. It's a syzygy. I made my mom get me a telescope when I was like eight over this.

[ he doesn't protest the accusation (dork), less because it's entirely accurate and more because junpei is grinning at him, but that's — well, then he's knocking against his shoulder again and showing him the notebook and charles focuses on that, instead.

(well. if he focuses a bit more on watching junpei draw the explanations than the actual doodles themselves, no one needs to know that.) ]

Space, sun, moon, earth... pretty poetic, that.

[ then, with a lilt, ] Not sure you can call me a nerd for Latin if you got a telescope when you were eight.

[ and then with a kind of genuine delight, ] So this your last name, then? It's pretty.

[Hey, hold on, he's not a nerd, he's just a guy who knows the word syzygy and drops it in casual conversation. He scoffs, totally indignant, for real.]

It's an eclipse, so it's actually really cool. Just like the telescope. It was basically just a toy, but, you know.

[It was very cool. Idly he doodles a little telescope, or he tries to, but it comes out more like a hotdog on a tripod of sticks than a recognizable telescope. His grin softens in quiet appreciation of the banter... and he writes "telescope" under the doodle, in English, because it looks like a dang hotdog.]

But yeah, that's me. So I guess it was probably inevitable that I'd do some space-adjacent stuff eventually.

[ it's a good thing, then, that most of charles' conversations over the last thirty-odd years have been with a walking edwardian dictionary... anyway, he gives a little shrug and waves one hand in defense. ] I didn't say it wasn't, honest! Seen some eclipses over the years, and they're proper cool, you're right. [ a pause. ] Not sure I can say the same about knowing the word syzygy, though.

[ then he seems to remember that he's meant to be looking at the notebook, and shifts his gaze; he first laughs over the telescope drawing, but then moves his hand to trace his fingertip over the lines of kanji. ]

Always thought they look neat, you know. Like they're saying a lot more than just regular written words, yeah? [ his smile turns a touch wistful, then. ] We got a bunch of those comics recently, the black and white ones, all in Japanese. Maybe I'll learn how to read them.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject