legionworld | Action

Entry tags:

Action

Who| Fareeha Amari (~12 years)
What| Friendship!
Where| Training room, Observation Deck, Mess Hall
When| Throughout her time effected by the Time Ripples
Warnings/Notes| n/a

This is the longest Fareeha has been on her own. No parent chaperoning her, no guarded escorts, no visits with her extended Overwatch family like Reinhardt or Jack. Gabriel was at least here, so that was good, and she has made friends with some of the other Legionnaires, but without guidance and a set routine she's gotten restless.

So, she's made her own routine.

It includes mature things that she thinks would make her mother happy; healthy foods, time spent training, reading through the news or any books she could find. At the end of the day, though, she's still a kid, so there are times you can find her on the observation deck with a piece of cake and a litany of colorful threads spread out as she spends her time deftly making friendship bracelets. It's a fun hobby, and leaves her with something to gift the people who have been nice and helpful to her, but it's also a distraction so she's not constantly thinking about how much she misses home.

If you've spoken to her once or twice (and weren't mean) there's probably a bracelet in there for you.

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"Friends." She sets the newest finished one in a little pile. Some of them have specific color schemes for specific people, others are just coordinated by the whims of a twelve year old who likes to see people smile. "Or, anyone who needs one."

She waits a beat and then holds out her hand. "I'm Fareeha. I think I'm part of the time stuff, too."

That gets a small nod of approval.

"Lotta' people could use one right now, probably."

Waking up impossibly far from home, getting told they were a part of a problem that would with any luck iron itself out soon; there were some implications there that weren't comfortable to think about.

He's sure he doesn't have it the worst, at any rate. His town wasn't exactly a riot.

"Mako," he offers his name in turn, her confidence easily convincing him to go ahead and reach out to give her hand a gentle shake between two of his comparatively enormous fingers. "Any idea who you're supposed to be yet?"

"I'm a superhero, ah, apparently." She beams, though. "When I'm all grown up I help people out. I'm good at marksmanship, too." According to York.

She picks out a few more strings to start a new bracelet, and goes about getting it started. If Mako's paying attention, it's reminiscent of his current color scheme.

"Do you know your future, Mako?"

Edited 2017-06-08 23:24 (UTC)

Most of Mako's color comes from the patches and pins tacked all over his jacket. She has a lot to choose from, but (aside from black) yellow and pink seem to be the most recurring, the latter almost solely due to all of his pig-related accessorizing. Even the backs of his fingerless gloves have a couple of matching pig patches sewn on them.

"Got a gig as somebody's bodyguard, apparently."

He picks at the ground with a black-lacquered fingernail and shrugs. "Know what kind of marksmanship? There's lots. Bows, guns." Mako quickly realizes he can't actually think of another example. "Boomerangs."

Edited 2017-06-09 00:13 (UTC)

Mostly black, with yellow pink and white accents. "Bodyguard? That sounds exciting! Who are you protecting?"

She laughs when he mentions boomerangs, but after a moment of giving serious thought she nods; it wouldn't hurt to know how to throw it so you know it's going to hit where you want it to. "Firearms, I'm assuming. I know a little bit already."

"Guess you're never too young to learn."

The world was a dangerous place.

"Just a guy," Mako snorts and sits there with a bemused grin for a second, forgetting that she can't see it. Her story was way better by comparison. "Some guy who causes enough trouble all on his own to need one."

Another pause, and he shrugs.

"He seemed all right. You might've seen him around, actually. He's the one with, uh..." This'll sound weird if she hasn't, but it's really the quickest, dirtiest descriptor. "His hair's on fire."

"I had some good people teaching me." She smiles, but it's a little subdued, thinking about her mother and Jack Morrison and the other people in Overwatch that she's missing right now.

However, she perks right up when Mako mentions who he's in charge of looking after; "Oh, I remember him! He seemed ... odd, but nice."

"Ever hit a bulls-eye yet?" Assuming said good people had her practicing in the relative safety of a firing range and not on crusty beer cans like they did in the GAFA.

"And yeah, that's--" Mako chuckles. He wasn't gonna say it, but she went straight for the throat. "Another good way of describing him, yeah."

She nods. She might not have the consistency yet but one of her teachers was a crackshot sniper. "Once or twice. It's pretty exciting when that happens." State of the art facilities and equipment, certainly.

"Where is he now?"

"Damn, tumeke," he exclaims, albeit in a hushed way that's appropriate for the calm quiet of the observation deck. One large hand lifts off his knee to give her a thumbs up to go along with the praise.

"Hab deck." It's where he was when he'd left him, anyway. "Working still, I bet. Has a machine shop out there with some pretty impressive stuff goin' on inside."

She smiles and ducks her head at his compliment. She works a little more on her current bracelet.

"Do you make anything?"

It takes Mako a moment to realize that she's directed the question at him instead of focusing on the guy with obviously self-built prosthetics. "Mostly just fix what's broken," he admits. "I'm a mechanic."

In-training, technically, but that was just the older geezers at the shop not wanting to acknowledge that a teenager was already as good as them.

"So, let me know if your car breaks down." A pause. "Or your backhoe," Mako jests. "Or definitely come to me if it's your motorbike. Those're my favorite."

"I'd have to get a motorbike first, and I think I'm a little young for that, but if I hear about anyone having mechanical troubles, I will send them to you."

Screw those old geezers. If he says he's a mechanic? He's a mechanic. "If your friend makes things and you fix things, sounds like you're a good pair."

She finishes the bracelet and unpins it, tugging it here and there to make sure it's secure, and then turns and hands it over to Mako.

"Hey. Old enough to shoot, old enough to ride."

Mako and Jamie, a good pair. Yeah, he hopes that's true; spending all day with a close buddy, bringing engines and special firearms and whatever else to life sounds right up his alley, but he isn't so sure that's actually what they do. So Mako just nods, idly watching Fareeha put the finishing touches on another bracelet for her growing pile--except that's not where it goes at all.

Oh-- "Wow, you..." She made him one.

That's literally so cute, he might melt.

"...You work fast," Mako says in honest surprise, carefully accepting the bracelet from her and inspecting the tightly braided pattern, which quite clearly now he can see has been personalized. At first he's worried it's not going to fit, but she must have a good eye, because the ends meet perfectly around his thicker than average wrist.

Right away, he gets to work finagling the end-strings into some kind of knot, or attempting to, at any rate. It's proving a little difficult one-handed.

Between him and that blue woman earlier it just goes to show you can't judge a book by its cover.

"You think so?" His comment about riding gets a hesitant mischief in her eye, and she's going to think on that for a moment. "I do these a lot. They were a way to pass time while I was waiting for my mother." Stopping off at headquarters for one thing or another, if people weren't around to talk to. She watches Mako try to put it on, then turns towards him, "May I?" Offering to help secure it.

"Please," Mako answers in the form of a light, breathy laugh, puttering to a stop and humbly offering her his wrist. He's quiet while she does that, mostly just glad he ended up here today, right here, right now, at the right time to be receiving this gift.

"If you ever wanna give it a go--" he eventually starts them off again, slowly. "Hover propulsion's gotten a lot less pricey these days. Bike that runs off that is gonna handle a lot easier for a smaller person than something terrestrial-- no offense," he interjects the last bit quickly.

"Holds itself up, don't need to worry about it being too heavy, or having it fall on you. 'Side from that, it's the same idea, just about. Lets you practice the basics without too many spills."

Who knew whether or not any of this information would have the chance to be applied in their time-displaced lives, but he enjoys talking about it-- y'know, just in case nobody could tell.

"Ideally, anyway."

Fareeha takes the bracelet and works deftly to secure it on his wrist. She settles back on her haunches and looks up at him with wide, hopeful eyes at his suggestion.

"Really? I mean, I don't know if I'm allowed ..." She frowns; it's not like her mother is here to tell her otherwise. "IT'd be a lot of fun, though."

"Definitely not without supervision," he stresses albeit sadly, as if he's just as let down that he can't confidently tell her to go hog wild. She can start breaking rules once she's a little older.

"Surprised you aren't rolling your eyes at me," Mako admits, laughing in a very subdued manner. "Kinda rambled there."

"Of course not without supervision, I need someone to show me what to do." The implication, of course that would be Mako giving her direction.

She smiles back and tilts her head at him, "You didn't ramble." She was hanging on every word.

Why couldn't all kids be this sweet?

"Hah, yeah... 'Spose so." He just won't mention how easy it is to learn how to do just about anything with an internet connection and a quick google search, coupled with some bravery, in this particular case.

But what Mako does feel is obligated to offer his support in whatever way he can, as a fellow time refugee, even if they weren't exactly in the right age group to be hanging out. If he could pull something off, maybe it'd save her from just sitting around like this, making a billion more of the same bracelets she made while "waiting for her mother"-- who probably wasn't even here. His wasn't.

"On a scale of one to ten how serious would you say you are about this right now?"

Oh, she knows; you can find anything teaching you anything online, but that's not how she was brought up. When dealing with potentially dangerous things, you let responsible adults show you the safe and proper way to handle things.

Mako seemed that, at least in her limited experience and judgement.

"I can pack up right now!" She turns back towards her work, then pauses and watches him eagerly; just say the word and she'll be ready to go!

"All right, all right." With Fareeha's latest and greatest showing of enthusiasm, Mako yields and lugs himself back to his feet, shaking off the pins and needles that'd come from sitting on the hard metal flooring. "Think I got an idea."

Technically, he doesn't have a bike at the moment either, but there's at least one potential fix for that.

(And no, it doesn't involve theft.)

He's just hoping they don't get turned away at the door.

"Dunno if they'll let us use 'em for not-superhero stuff, but I'm willing to take the shot. If it doesn't work, we can go bother Jamie for ice cream or somethin'," he says jokingly, not that he wasn't also totally serious. The guy's fridge was like the culinary equivalent of the Cave of Wonders.

"Could we do both?"

Because ice cream sounded like fun but so did learning to ride a hovercycle and she didn't see how they should exist exclusively outside of the other. She packs up her strings and bracelets and tucks it into a backpack, swinging it over her shoulders as she stands.

"Ready to go!"

Porque no los dos indeed.

"Don't see why not," he concurs. "Nothin' like mixing sweets and adrenaline."

All set, Mako takes the lead, and while he knows he wants to head for the sim rooms, getting to them without taking a few wrong turns is another story. He spends the walk constantly glancing down at his side to make sure he hasn't lost her too; she barely comes up to his to his waist and his vision's been thrown off by these stupid sunglasses.

Some trial and error later, they reach their destination, where the first technician they meet informs Mako that they've served far more unusual requests for flimsier reasons, which is both a relief and begs the niggling question of what. Inside, another technician instructs him on how to use the anywhere machine to pull data from his era.

Once all is said and done, Mako and Fareeha are standing in the middle of a silent stretch of road at the base of Mount Maunganui, overlooking Tauranga, New Zealand. Except for them, the usually bustling city is completely deserted--no cars, no people, nothing moving other than some distant sea birds--which is pretty eerie on one hand, but really quite peaceful on another... if you simply look past that small detail.

Set up directly in front of them are two bikes, one hovercycle and one retro, Mako-sized cruiser. The former happens to come complete with a small leather jacket already laid out over the seat, along with one other very important thing.

"First thing's first." Mako picks said thing up and presents it to his pupil with both hands. "Helmet."

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