You sure? [He considers it.] All right. How about I owe you one? I'd offer to buy you a free lunch but when everything's free, what more does a man have to offer?
I didn't get your name before, either. I'm Rich Tozier.
You don't have to do that! Honestly, they barely weigh a thing! [ or, like, only a few at a time do. ] Oh—sorry I never introduced myself before. My name's Koharu.
No no no, I insist. I'm conscripting you for labour, so you conscript me back sometime. Fair and square.
Right, Koharu. One of our Tokyo souls. Funny about that, with everyone so far flung, it's strange that so many from your hometown showed up.
[He is unaware of the chokehold Japanese media will have on the future.
Meanwhile he's already flipping through and setting aside some favourites, to be narrowed down later. No sense in being greedy, maybe someone else will want to spark a roach and listen to Styx, but hey. Is he or is he not the only guy from late twentieth century America?]
That they do. I mean, it is the only explanation that makes sense. Unless one of us is in a deep coma dreaming it all up?
[Said mostly as a joke, though god he wishes it could be true. He's got a big imagination but definitely not this big. He passes her some Janis Joplin, David Bowie, Jimmy Hendrix. Let's get some of the best and brightest to safety straightaway.]
[ There's a reluctant shift of her feet, an anxious twitch of her wings; it isn't so subtle it's easy to miss, and eventually Koharu gives a slow nod of her head. ]
... Yeah, I get it. Did you find some kind of clue to make you think so?
[The twitching makes him feel a bit bad, honestly. He shouldn't be pestering a kid about this, but then...kids get mixed up in bad shit all the time. He knows that all too well.
Not like he'll beat her about the brow with anything, but he sure would have appreciated grown folks giving him a bit more credit growing up. So, respectfully, he carries on.]
We're pretty fleshy still, for one. Even woke up with bandages all over, like we're supposed to be healing from our mortal wounds. But that doesn't track, now does it? Why would a soul need polysporin and a bandage wrap?
And...well. Yes, I got knocked around. I hit my head pretty hard, and maybe that was enough to kill me, but it might not have been.
Then there's all this redemptive test bullshit. The promise that maybe, we'll get sent back. So what, they just press rewind and stick us back in a revived corpse? Or wait three days and make us pop out like Jesus?
[ Koharu listens, but her mouth purses into a thin line. Her expression shifts around, as if she's having difficulty finding the words she wishes to say, but eventually she manages something. ]
I... wasn't expecting that we could get sent back to the time we, um—left. Did they ever say what we are right now? Just... souls?
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—Oh, no, I didn't mean it like that! I was thinking about how trashed the other spots got over the past few days, so...
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Think I'd be a ripe asshole for moving my top ten to a safe haven?
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You wanna give me a hand? Maybe grab a few for yourself?
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I didn't get your name before, either. I'm Rich Tozier.
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Right, Koharu. One of our Tokyo souls. Funny about that, with everyone so far flung, it's strange that so many from your hometown showed up.
[He is unaware of the chokehold Japanese media will have on the future.
Meanwhile he's already flipping through and setting aside some favourites, to be narrowed down later. No sense in being greedy, maybe someone else will want to spark a roach and listen to Styx, but hey. Is he or is he not the only guy from late twentieth century America?]
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[ she will not do this ]
A little. But even stranger is the, er... They keep saying "other worlds"...
[ If he hands her any vinyls, she'll hold on to them. ]
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That they do. I mean, it is the only explanation that makes sense. Unless one of us is in a deep coma dreaming it all up?
[Said mostly as a joke, though god he wishes it could be true. He's got a big imagination but definitely not this big. He passes her some Janis Joplin, David Bowie, Jimmy Hendrix. Let's get some of the best and brightest to safety straightaway.]
You remember what happened to you?
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Oh. Do you mean like... dying?
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[He halts his rifling a moment, looking for the words in some measured distance.]
Looking for leeway. Part of me feels like maybe, these final blows weren't quite so final. You get what I mean?
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... Yeah, I get it. Did you find some kind of clue to make you think so?
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Not like he'll beat her about the brow with anything, but he sure would have appreciated grown folks giving him a bit more credit growing up. So, respectfully, he carries on.]
We're pretty fleshy still, for one. Even woke up with bandages all over, like we're supposed to be healing from our mortal wounds. But that doesn't track, now does it? Why would a soul need polysporin and a bandage wrap?
And...well. Yes, I got knocked around. I hit my head pretty hard, and maybe that was enough to kill me, but it might not have been.
Then there's all this redemptive test bullshit. The promise that maybe, we'll get sent back. So what, they just press rewind and stick us back in a revived corpse? Or wait three days and make us pop out like Jesus?
It's fishy.
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I... wasn't expecting that we could get sent back to the time we, um—left. Did they ever say what we are right now? Just... souls?
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Honestly, I didn't ask. I guess I was preoccupied thinking about other things. Mostly if we could return at all in the first place.
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