savetheearth | [Closed]

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Who: Cesar Sanchez-Ortiz and Chuck Reyes
Where: Outside a cafe close to TC.
When: 4/10
What: Angry toothpicks and brothers meeting.
Warnings: Nothing yet.

"What on earth..."

When he first saw it, he stopped checking his phone and stared. It wasn't the sort of thing anyone expects: Cesar, on the sidewalk by a favorite diner near work. The giant toothpick, almost as tall as him, some dozen feet away. It was armed with another toothpick.

Cesar's cellphone had already been in his hand. Now he lifted it, calling up the camera function.

The toothpick warrior started forward as soon as he moved, and okay, maybe this wasn't the time. Cesar stumbled backwards and to the side, trying to get out of its way. No, the creature was intent on him--it followed.

Click! His phone-camera screen froze. The creature paused at the sound. Then the warrior rushed forward in a silent charge, and Cesar made a noise of alarm, jammed the phone into his pocket, and darted between a mailbox and a parked car. Sharpened wood battered into the mailbox, and the toothpick creature took off in close pursuit.

"Help. Help! Oye--I think it's attacking me!"

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Chuck was trying to keep stealthy. He had some Blood Key duties to attend to guarding some super secret room, so he had all his gear with him. He doesn't feel comfortable walking around with it when he's not "working", so to speak, though, so he's feeling pretty self-conscious about it and trying his hardest to appear as absolutely mundane as possible right now.

Kinda hard to do when you're a cyborg robot guy who's being confronted by a giant toothpick with a sword.

(How is it that he's lived in eight countries all around the world, and he ends up in the one place on Earth where things like this happen on a regular basis?)

Chuck freezes, partially because this is an all-new level of weirdness he's never encountered before, and partially because he isn't sure what to do. He could fight it, no problem, but this place feels too open, it makes him feel too naked.

The way he's standing right now, though, it looks like Chuck is as scared and victimized as this guy running and screaming for help is.

(Talent.)

Coming up from behind, one angry toothpick warrior. Coming up ahead... Cesar almost doesn't see him. He almost doesn't even glance, or do anything besides grab his arm as he passes and drag him into joining the retreat.

He almost doesn't recognize even when it's standing standing in a sea of unfamiliarity, he knows that face. His own face slacks in shock, and he slows.

Then, before he can pass him, Cesar reverses direction, draws back a fist, and punches the larger toothpick at about shoulder height. It's an impressive display--for all of about the three seconds it takes for the thing to stagger back a foot, straighten, and fix them with an enraged (and invisible) glare.

Cesar shakes out his fist, cringing. No time for anything but putting his other hand on Rex's shoulder and urging him, "Kid--run!"

Chuck has no idea what's going on. One second he's watching a toothpick(???) nearly skewer a guy, now he's getting wrenched into following this guy while he punches it in the face. What's going on? Why is this guy doing this?

"Wha--who are you even supposed to--"

He doesn't get to finish his statement because he gets floored by that weird echo feeling, and ends up frozen in place again, but this time instead of it just being uncertainty, it's due to some strange memory washes over him. The feeling of jumping from an--an airplane, and busting out his giant metal fists and casually punching a monster the size of a skyscraper like it was nothing.

It's so disorienting, so confusing, that he can't think to do anything at all right now. Sorry, Cesar, you've still got to take the lead on this.

Edited 2014-04-13 18:36 (UTC)

The younger man doesn't run. He just stands there, and Caesar pushes his shoulder more forcefully, trying to spur him into action. No luck. He turns forward--

And leaps back, pushing himself and Chuck out of the way of a near skewering. "Watch out!" He's knocked them against a car. Cesar spares a glance for the kid, but the toothpick is coming after him, and Cesar gives it a wide-eyed look as the toothpick-skewer raises high--

--and meets an enormous metallic fist as it comes down.

It was the harsh bump into a car that acted as a wake up call, jolting Chuck out of his strange memory-but-not, forcing him to refocus and see what was going on. And what he saw was some helpless stranger about to be impaled.

Which was why he stepped forward, almost too quickly to be humanly possible, and lifted up an arm that, with a mechanical whine, expanded into a large orange-and-chrome piece of machinery.

With the blow solidly blocked, Chuck takes the opportunity to hit back--hard enough to fling the toothpick half a block down. It's kind of hard to tell from the twigginess of the figure, but it looks like it's lying flat on the ground, out for the count. Chuck takes that as a safe sign to let his arm revert back to normal.

He turns back to the stranger who tried protecting him. "You alright?"

The threat is down for the count, Cesar's torso is intact, and that kid that looks like his mysterious pre-incarnated missing brother just transformed his arm into a giant, faster-than-human mechanically enhanced arm to beat back a man-sized toothpick aggressively wielding another toothpick.

He's having trouble accepting that last one.

"I'm fine." His eyes go down to his arm--but instead of staying or asking about it, he looks back to his face.

"Are you okay?"

"Am I--" He laughs a little, a short 'ha', because of all the questions to ask he wouldn't have expected that one. "I just punched whatever that is halfway down the street! Yeah, I'm okay."

Chuck gives the guy a once over though, just to be sure. He looks fine, but...

"You...didn't get hurt either, did you?"

Edited 2014-04-14 04:09 (UTC)

Good. A smile flits across his face, but it leaves while he pats himself down. No wounds he was accidentally ignoring from the excitement.

"It missed me. I'm fine." That smile is back, now, and he pushes away from the car. With the important stuff out of the way, he can focus on the exciting parts.

"That arm thing was amazing! How did you do that?" He steps closer, gesturing with his own hands. "Were those mechanical components there the whole time?" Eyes draw back to his face, memorizing the sight--no, not memorizing. Comparing it. Yes, he recognizes it. Normally he'd try to focus on one mind-boggling thing at a time, but neither subject is willing to wait.

Chuck is not equipped to answer this question.

"Uh, I don't think so, it just--" He glances to the side, not wanting to look directly at the stranger who seems to be staring so keenly at him. Which is good, because he spots the toothpick slowly getting back up. "Hang on."

He runs over to the toothpick and kicks it back down to the ground. Part of its...arm(?) snaps off and clatters to the ground separately from the rest of it. Chuck stands over it, ready to kick again should it move, but it doesn't. Looks like it won't be trying to hurt them again, which is all Chuck really wants, so he walks back.

"Okay, I don't think it'll be coming back any time soon now."

"Good." Cesar has followed at a more leisurely pace, and it seems that he's taken the time gather himself.

"I never thanked you for saving me. If it hadn't been for you, it might've run me through with that stick." The snapped-off arm stays limp on the ground, life apparently gone.

Cesar grins at Rex. "Let me buy you lunch. I was just going to get some, anyway."

"Really?" He wasn't expecting the offer, or any other compensation for his deed, but...why not? The guy seems nice enough. "Sure. Where?"

"There's a burger place around the corner that serves a mean two-tier, and there's also a food truck next to it that serves delicious tacos. What'll it be?"

For a hasty, slapped-together plan, it's working well. Step one: don't let this kid with your missing brother's face slip through your fingers. (It's not his missing brother, his real brother is completely different--no, that's not the point. The point is that Cesar needs to buy himself time to think this through, and he won't have that if this guy just leaves on him.)

Chuck is completely oblivious to Cesar's cunning plan.

He considers the options briefly. His parents told them that the tacos in New Jersey are a disgrace, but it's not like he's ever had the 'real deal' either. He doesn't make the decision immediately, but it doesn't take longer than a few seconds. "I could go for burgers right about now." He shrugs lightly. "So uh...where is this place?"

Perfect. All according to kuekaku.

"Over this way," Cesar says, and he starts walking. The burger place is just on the other side of the of the building-strip they're across the street from, so it doesn't take long.

While they walk, Cesar talks. "My name is Cesar, by the way. What's your name?"

Normally, he introduces himself only by his nickname, just because it's easier than enduring all the weird looks and questions and jokes. But this guy--for some reason, he feels like that's not gonna be an issue here.

(That reason would be the slight accent he doesn't realize he's picked up on--an accent that sounds familiar to his parents' own.)

"Jesús--or Chuck. Whichever one you want to call me."

"Jesús is fine." A missing brother called Moses. A face from a past life that goes by Jesus. If Cesar had disbelieved the preincarnation theory before, he believes it now.

He switches to Spanish. "¿Eres de México?"

Okay, now that catches him off-guard. He halts mid-step for a moment, staring at Cesar, before he picks up the pace and keeps walking again.

"Sí, pero nunca viví allí. ¿Tú eres de México también?" As if to act as proof that he never lived in Mexico, his accent is confused--parts of it certainly do sound Mexican, but parts of it sound Chilean as well.

Edited 2014-04-19 17:53 (UTC)

Cesar just smiles at him when he pauses, slowing his pace briefly to let him catch up.

"Nací en Argentina, pero mi padre era de México. Viví ahi para cinco años." His own accent is smoother, with more emphasis on Mexican than Argentinan. It fits, considering that the background he's just described shows that much exposure.

"¿En que parte de México viviste?" he adds with interest. While they talk, they round the corner to the building. The burger place deliberately stands out from hits neighbors, both brighter and more inviting.

Considering its the only burger place on the block, Chuck now knows exactly where they're going.

"Ciudad de México...pero sólo para dos años cuando era un niño muy pequeño." He doesn't say much else on the matter, because he's a little uncomfortable with saying he's really from Mexico when he only knows it from holiday visits, especially in front of someone who has been there for longer.

As they approach the front door to the restaurant, though, Chuck takes the initiative and pulls open the door, stepping through first but holding it open for Cesar behind him.

"De veras? Y cuando mudaste a Locke?"

They've arrived. Cesar's grin turns appreciative at the gesture, and he walks on through. There's a decent line, and a menu proudly displayed over the counter.

"What looks good to you? It's my treat, so get anything you want."

Edited 2014-04-25 23:08 (UTC)

Just before they reach the menu and the counter, Chuck manages another response. "Sólo en septiembre."

He turns back to take a look at the menu, running through the options in his head. "Are you sure? I can pay for myself, you know."

"Of course I'm sure. You kept me from being a shiskabob by pummeling that toothpick entity with your giant mechanical fists. How else am I supposed to repay you?"

He says this all at normal tone, with apparently no regard for how sensitive the subject might be to prying ears. To be fair, there are no prying ears, but if there had been, they'd have heard.

Surely he wouldn't just say it out loud to everyone without even trying to use a code phrase, right? Surely not. Chuck is so confident in this that when he actually says the full-on freaky truth, at perfectly normal speaking volume, he doesn't react for several seconds, only managing to loudly shush over the last few words.

"What do you think you're doing?! No sabemos si hay people who are listening!" He pointedly keeps his voice no louder than a loud whisper, casually switching between Spanish and English in the company of someone he knows will understand the same strange mix that he speaks at home.

He winces, and lowers his tone accordingly. "Lo siento--I thought being casual would draw less attention than speaking obviously quietly." Part of him wants to point out that the kid hadn't had any problem drawing the arms out in public minutes earlier, but that wouldn't be fair, smart, or grateful of him. Chuck had drawn them in an emergency. This wasn't one.

The restaurant is loud around them. They're at the counter, and the last couple ahead of thing moves aside to wait for their order. Cesar steps forward.

"Yes, may I have the..." He gives them his usual order. When he's done he turns and indicates for Chuck to give his, and his expression still has a hint of apology to it.

He sighs, but another glance around shows nobody was really paying attention. Everyone is still talking away or checking their phones or listening to music. Thank god--that could've gone a lot worse than it actually did.

When it's his turn to order he looks at the cashier. "Cheeseburger and fries for me."

The cashier rings the order up and asks for extra details. Did he want mayonnaise or mustard? What kind of drink?

When they were done they took a little sign with a number on it, and walked to the larger part of the restaurant. Cesar led them towards a table near a corner, where the table behind it was empty and the table ahead had a distracted couple that was getting ready to leave. Cesar slid into one chair.

"Sorry again for earlier. It would have been poor thanks to bring you all this way, only to make life difficult for you once you got here. It brings me to another question I did have, though, if it would be alright for me to ask."

Once the order's processed and all, Chuck follows behind and takes a seat opposite Cesar. Once the man poses a question, though, one of his eyebrows arches higly, unsure of what's to follow now.

"Sure. What's the question?"

"Have you ever heard of something called 'The Network', or the 'numbered', by any chance?"

Once again, he's diving for the throat of the subject instead of beating around it. His expression is smooth, and his hands deliberately do not fidget with his straw, but he's moving stiffly: He's fighting to not be tense.

He tenses, but doesn't panic. If anything, this was good--it meant Cesar was all the more likely to keep his little fistfight a secret. Still, it doesn't keep a quiet look of shock from crossing his face.

"Are...are you, too?"

"Yes. Since last month." Then the corners of his mouth twitch, and he grins. It's a lot of smiles wrapped into one expression: He's relieved that he won't have to lie or backtrack. He's triumphant that he guessed correctly, even if he had plenty of reason to be sure. He's glad that he might have reason to see this kid with his new (old?) brother's face again.

"This makes everything much more simple. Do you remember much from before?"

He doesn't realize it, but he starts grinning too--Cesar's expression is disarming and makes him feel a lot more at ease. He doesn't think very highly of the network, still, but at least Cesar seems genuine and nice (although a little strange, maybe).

He shakes his head. "Not much. I know bits and pieces, but I don't have anything connecting them together."

"Me neither. Or perhaps better put, I have very little in the way of memories so far, and what I do have is unclear. However, I do know that--"

"Cheeseburger and the Build-it-yourself Avocado-mayonnaise-tuna?" A cheeseburger is put down in front of Chuck. Cesar falls silent as his own is put in front of him, giving a slightly jerky nod. ('Can I getcha both anything else?' 'No, we're fine.' Then she's gone.)

His momentum is still there, but it's shambling. "Try the french fries," he says, regrouping inwardly. "They sprinkle cheese in them."

Chuck gives Cesar an extremely judgmental glare over the burger, but doesn't say anything. He just takes some of the french fries and eats a couple at his suggestion. Admittedly, they are pretty good. (That burger can't possibly taste decent, though. How does this place even allow that sort of combination.)

It's after he takes a good, long sip of his drink that he stops eating for a moment and stares at Cesar. "...what were you saying? You know what?"

Cesar seems to like it. He takes a small bite, chews, and swallows.

He talks instead of taking another bite. "Ah, yes. It's why I invited you here: the only clear memories that I've echoed so far are of a brother I apparently had in my past life. I remember his face, and his name. Rex Salazar." Cesar looks at him for any signs of recognition.

He tenses up for a moment, burger in hands and all, as he feels an echo come on. He's almost never gotten an echo because of something someone else has said before--and never anything this direct.

"I...I remember that name--Rex." He lowers his hands and sets the burger down.

"You do?" Cesar sits up and leans forward with naked interest. "What do you remember?"

He was right. Sure, there hadn't been much doubt in that before, but now it's confirmed as much as it can be: Cesar and this kid are connected.

Even without his surrounding circumstances, this is something Cesar would grab onto with fascination and not let go.

Chuck leans back a bit--Cesar's enthusiasm was a little more than he expected.

"I...I remember it being my name. It was Rex." Cesar mentioned a last name too, though, right? 'Salazar'? "I don't remember my last name, though."

"I see. Then might I suggest it was Salazar?"

"I remember my brother's face, and it looked nearly identical to yours." He points with a french fry, before lowering it, as though it were some pointing instrument and not a digestible food product.

Chuck leans back in his seat, as if he'd just personally been shoved back by the french fry.

"So, what, you're--are you trying to say I'm your brother?" He'd been an only child for his entire life, his only family being his parents and, maybe, his Tía Bianca's family. To try shoehorning a sibling into such a small family suddenly is something he isn't sure he's comfortable with or ready for.

Chuck leans back, and Cesar knows he's pushed too hard.

"I'm trying to say that your past self may have been my past self's younger sibling. That doesn't mean anything about us now automatically, but I did want to know if you knew anything about our past lives that I didn't."

That's not all of it, but it's truth enough for now.

Chuck shakes his head. "No. I remember some things, but nothing about any family." Which seems a little strange, now that he thinks about it, but maybe not, given how little he remembers so far in general.

"I see."

It's disappointing. The little bean-shoots of hope that had sprouted in him start to wilt.

"Do you remember anything else about the day and surroundings that we may have lived in?"

He nods. "Yeah--not much, though. I just remember these giant monster-things rampaging around a city. They were called 'EVOs'."

He looks to Cesar to see if there's any recognition there in what he just said. Part of him wants to share the memories with someone, but another part doesn't want something else bringing the two of them closer together, not when this kook seems convinced they're brothers.

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[Closed]

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So my inbox hid this from me.

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"let's wrap this log up!" we said, while introducing whole new topics to it