divermay·:
Realizing that her focused investigation might come off as a bit rude, May eased the clock back into position. Perhaps she would buy it at another time, if it was still there.
“Help with…?” May paused at the question, the small injection of praise within his words moving past her without notice. The man had said he wasn’t from around the city, which presumably made his power within it weak. She doubted he held any position that would aid her with the financial bind she was in.
“I have found myself in need of a job,” She stated plainly. Even if he couldn’t help, it didn’t hurt to discuss it.
For a second, the thought of describing her previous life circumstances seemed logical. It was part of the reason she was having difficulty deciding on what to pursue, after all. But then she realized that not all humans were fully aware of the Gundam Battle Nexus. Conversations like “I participated in solo battles for money in one world, and was six inches tall in the other world, so I’ve never run a cashier register before” would be a little unbelievable for some.
“My resume, if I had one, would state that I have some expertise in mechanical combat, but I’m afraid that likely doesn’t carry to any reasonable job application,” May explained, settling on a vague description. Lifelike or not, she’d have to learn a whole new skill-set to pilot anything new - the controls for Gunpla were very simplistic at times. “Otherwise I’m good at…being patient, perhaps. I came in here hoping for work, but I don’t believe they’re hiring.”
“Job searching like this is a new concept for me. If you were to help me, I would make sure to repay you for the assistance.” With the clock now an abandoned treasure, May had no need to be in the store. “If you’re interested, we could discuss the arrangement further outside.”
Job searching, huh? Somehow this situation seemed eerily familiar. While Dazai so far knew little of the odd community he had unwillingly found himself apart of, he did consider himself rather resourceful, at least. He wasn’t an employment agent by any means- he hardly knew what one required to to have a “normal” job in the first place- but how hard could it be?
Dazai hummed in thought, bringing a hand to his chin as he nodded along to the woman’s explanation. “’Mechanical Combat’“, he echoed, “What does that entail, exactly? Are you an arms specialist, perhaps? Or do you have a general knowledge of machines?” At least she had some sort of specialized skill set, by the sound of things. He wasn’t sure what he could have done for someone who possessed no practical talents to speak of (in other words, someone like himself).
“You really considered working in a dusty old place like this?” He asked, waving a hand through the air and unsettling the layers of dust on the nearby shelves to illustrate his point, watching disdainfully as the particles floated down around him. “This certainly wouldn’t do. Consider yourself lucky that they aren’t.”
At the suggestion of exiting the cramped little store, Dazai wasted no time in agreeing, making his way through the shelves and being careful to avoid hitting his head on any of the many hanging ornaments and knickknacks. He reached the front door and held it open for the other, with an exaggerated flourish and a beaming smile.
“After you!”
May had considered working here. She thought that a simple, “average” job might be a good experience. But, looking at the haze of dust floating in the air, she wondered if he was right. Would she grow in a place like this?
Following the man, she took the offer to exit. As she did, her fingers reached down for one of the handguns at her side … only to remember that she didn’t have them. Right. Old habits would take some time to dismantle. Trying her best to relax with someone behind her, she strolled forward.
The simulated weather was nice; a mild warmth, with comfortable lighting. May motioned to a nearby park bench. “If you would sit for a moment,” she requested. “I’ll be right back.”
She quickly went over to a small convenience store, handing over two vouchers in exchange for drinks. When she returned to the bench, she held out a bottle of green tea.
“Here.”
May had seen Dazai before, even if it had taken a few moments to place him. His attire was less flashy than her other roommate’s - and, chance had it, they just hadn’t passed by each other much at the dorms. Knowing this, she knew she’d have to find a way to describe herself at some point. Thinking back to his question in the antique shop, she sipped at her own bottle of tea before giving it a try:
“I’m familiar with firearms, and have honed my aim. Weaponry aside, I value the ability to assess a situation and fight accordingly.” May carefully left out the chiding she had heard in the past - sometimes, she could become a bit tunnel-visioned with her plans, and she knew it. She was working on it.
“Where I’m from, my preferred method of combat is through ‘Gunpla.’ These are…” May thought back to her conversations with those unfamiliar with the game. What terms did they usually use?
“They’re mobile weapons…’giant robots?’ I’m a pilot.”
“Until recently, most of my experience was through competition. Combatants would design Gunpla by hand, and then they would be scanned into - my world...my home,” May stuttered slightly here; she knew the correct term was “MMO,” or even “video game,” but no one ever took her seriously when she said it that way. Back on the Earth she knew, the tone of her introductions always changed course from amazement to amusement, as the human decided she was little more than a toy.
“I’ll admit that it brought me more joy than it should, these competitions. But things became more serious; lives were at risk. We started to use our Gunpla to help them instead.”
Taking another long drink, May thought back at everything that had happened. “We didn’t always succeed.”
“I can’t imagine these types of skills will be needed for a local economy, which is why-”
She glanced at Dazai’s face to see if he was following what she was saying - but found something else. Out from the murky gloom of the store, his cheerful expression had followed; except the sun revealed more, under the surface.
“...I’m not sure what to do.”
May finished her sentence as an afterthought, distracted by the realization that the man carried with him some type of burden that she couldn’t read. His lively exterior hid an aura of determination and the weight of death. This was a man who had done something terrible.
She felt herself sink into the bench despite herself, at the remembrance that he lived in the same dorm.
