Entry Seventy-Five

[dreamermoa]

....

You didn't - do it on purpose. I - I know that. You're...going to come back for me.....after everything...

[her voice cracks.]

It's okay. I'm not - angry. I'll be okay.

[she's trying not to cry, not until she gets the communicator out of her hands at least...]

H-Hawkeye, can I...come stay with you? F-for a little bit. Just....

[mission fail. The tears are falling.]

Feel kind of lonely.

Comments

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[HO YAY YES?]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[WOOOOO OKAY I'LL START HERE I GO.]

[Moa slips out the front door of the high school, bundled up as usual in a big blanket. She rubs at her eyes, tired. Crying takes a lot out of a girl.

She looks awful, but who cares anymore?

It occurs to her that she doesn't know what Daniel actually looks like.

Well, it'll be easy to spot her, at least. Just look for the miserable teenager angsting near the doors.]

SORRY THIS IS SO LATE

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Enter one unassuming-looking middle-aged man, dressed in a sweater and trousers, both garments worse for wear since he fished them out of god-knows-where.]

"Moa?" [He approaches, adjusting his glasses; he's got a plain, open face - one where it's easy to read his expression.]

S'OKAY ALL MY TAGS ARE LATE TOO

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[Actually, he looks just like she pictured. Kind, open - maybe a little older than she thought. Oh, and he's calling her name. Yup that's him.]

Hi.

[...she really does look awful, doesn't she. Too late to do anything about it now, but she tries to get some of the hair out of her face at least.]

....How're you?

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

"I'm fine." [He says, and puts a hand on her shoulder.]

"How are you holding up?" [Dan's hardly an expert on teenagers, but he hopes that he'll do okay, if he just listens and offers support.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[she worries at her blanket.]

Okay.

[Except Ness is gone. The waterworks are threatening again.]

I'll - be okay. Because he...

[didn't mean it? What does it matter what he meant? He's gone. And he'll never be back.]

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Dan hesitates a moment, and then puts his arms around her. Because she's a sweet girl and she really deserves better than this place.]

"It's better if you let it out. Don't hold it all in, Moa."

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[Moa loves hugs. She needs quite a few right now, so this'll do for a start, Daniel. She clings a little, unabashed at least towards physical contact.]

I just....

[he's probably right, but she's not quite ready yet. Hides her face.]

He was my first boyfriend...

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Dan just holds her, rubbing her back in slow circles with one hand.]

What was he like? I don't think I ever met him.

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[his sweater might be getting a little damp. Sorry.]

He...he was a hero, and he saved people back home...

[the prospect of people with superpowers astounds and delights her, and thinking of Ness's positive attributes is a little comforting.]

He was kind and smart and brave...

[and someone was head-over-heels for him, in case you didn't notice.]

[ooc: ALSO I HAVE THIS (http://i39.tinypic.com/2uskgm9.jpg) FOR YOU.]

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

Where was he from?

[Dan asked, the gentle conversation continued in hopes of easing her troubled mind. It was good to think about those who had left - keep their memory alive. He thought of his old teammates back home a lot. He had his moments of private sorrow, too.]

I wish I could have met him. [He hugs her a bit tighter.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

Onett. Eagleland.

[Not that she knows where that is. Only that it sounded wonderful. Anything was better than Orokos.]

You would've liked him. Everybody liked him. He was gonna....teach me how to play baseball...

[snuggle. ;~;]

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Dan is silent for a time, just holding her; he feels like she might crumble if he doesn't.]

If you want, I could teach you a bit. Just until Ness gets back, and then you can show him how skilled you are.

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

You know how to play too? It must be...a big thing...

[slowly, she opens her eyes, gives him a squeeze, is ready to wipe her eyes. No smiles, not just yet; but the offer is appreciated nonetheless.]

That...I'd like that.

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

I used to play when I was younger. In college, I played casually with a group of friends. [Dan nods.]

Want to walk a bit? [He offers a hand.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

[takes his hand, vaguely.]

What's college?

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

It's a system of higher education. Haven't you ever gone to school? [He looks over at her; she seemed normal enough - but then again, so did most, until one got to know them.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

Oh.

[school?]

Oh.

[a little embarassed.]

...No.

[she fidgets. Aware of the fact that most places seemed to have a solid system of education, and that most people had gone to school, and expected that everyone else had too.]

There were no schools in the ghettos. My neighbor used to try to teach us writing and science and math, but...

[d-dreiberg.livejournal.com]

[Dan frowns a little.] Do you attend the school here, with the others?

If you don't, I -- I mean, I don't know how good a teacher I am, but if you wanted to learn something, I could help you. [He falters - he's good with kids, but Moa confuses him. She seems so delicate and different from who he's known.]

[dreamermoa.livejournal.com]

The others? They all look so young...

[he sounds awkward. Maybe he thinks she's stupid. Maybe she is. Still, though. She's not going to waste an opportunity.]

That'd be nice. I can write a little already.