One Word [Toby]

TOBIAS RESORTED TO EAVESDROPPING on conversations to stave-off his steadily mounting boredom—he’d dusted the entire library, shelved returns (twice), had his email open to a relatively-empty email inbox and two totally dead chatrooms, and processed new materials that had been donated to the library—all of this, prior to lunch. There were a few students milling about the library, and a few more studying at the desks. A class had also overtaken the computer lab portion of the library, their teacher—an opossum in a rather outdated yellow suit—was dozing on the keyboard of a laptop nearby.

Eavesdropping was not, by any means, polite. But it was difficult not to when you had so much juicy Teenage Drama™ readily accessible.

So-and-so was dating so-and-so, could you believe that?

And these two other people had broken-up! Unbelievable.

It was just noise—it wasn’t like Tobias was committing this to memory.

“Maybe she’s a reporter,” an insectoid youth said to her bunny-like companion, “Like she’s doing a report on the school, and needs pictures of it?”

“But she’s taking pictures of students! That’s creepy, right?!” the rabbit-boy protested.

“Well, yeah, it’s super-creepy. But a hero-school wouldn’t just… allow it, right?”

Tobias sat a little taller in his seat, eyeing the two conversationalists. That was not… the run-of-the-mill conversation your heard between teens. The redhead rose to his feet, grabbing a few materials from his desk, and approached them. Upon spying the librarian, the teens’ attention snapped quickly back to their computer screens. They likely feared some swift consequence for talking rather than typing.

“What’s this about a photographer?”

After a brief word with the teens, and a brief word with Possum-sensei, the redhead deposited his belongings onto the counter and set-off for the front end of campus, insisting that he “had left something in his car”.

A photographer taking pictures of students was certainly insidious—definitely illegal. And given U.A.’s proclivity for trouble, worthy of investigating.

Tobias strolled casually towards the gate, nodding to and greeting any students that crossed his path. He would walk the perimeter, and the surrounding blocks, and accost anyone who could be causing the students grief. When Tobias arrived at the gate, he fussed with the lock before stepping through.
His gaze swept the street as he crossed the threshold onto the sidewalk. The streets were relatively empty, spare a few distant pedestrians. No immediately-apparent photographers, as far as he could tell.

Tobias relocked the gate and began to walk, his gaze flitting from the pavement before him, to the facades of the houses, to the streets—people walking their dogs, people jogging, yet no photographers.

The crimson gentleman tilted his head back and stretched, debating about a destination to venture to—there was a corner-store near campus. Perhaps he could grab a snack before his return? Cookies to share with anyone who stopped-by for tea? A candy bar?

The more that Tobias entertained the confectionary possibilities, the more appeal that it held. Tobias lowered his head again, tugging absently at one of his sideburns. He hoped, at the bottom of his heart, that this was merely a case of overactive imaginations.

ft. mononobe tamanashi

quirk: c-rank burn, durability, heat resistance; combat abilities: jujitsu (e), magma sleeves (e), regeneration (d), cinder sprites (f)(summon); etc.: info. sifting (f), problem solving (f), interrogation (f), first aid (e)

ooc notes:

TOBY KEPT HIS STRIDES STEADY, somewhat aimless, nodding to a jogger as they passed. His hands were wedged securely in his pockets, gaze flitting over the surroundings. The jogger paused to address someone roughly ten meters back, just within earshot—and he earned a terse, albeit heavily accented, rebuke.

Toby stole a glance over his shoulder. Shock of red hair, trench coat, really nice camera. Hm. The camera was worthy of suspicion. Tobias kept walking, making no indication of having noticed the woman. He had to be one-hundred percent sure that she was following him before approaching her on the matter.

He maintained his casual pace the few blocks to the corner store, humming to himself as he went. He crossed the cramped parking lot, empty of cars at this hour, to the small, cubic building. One wall was predominantly windows, offering ads that boasted various deals on snacks and beverages. Otherwise, the building was a relatively nondescript brown brick.

Tobias entered through the front door, his entrance heralded by a two-tone mechanical bell.

“Welcome in!” the attendant greeted.

“Thanks,” Tobias said cheerfully back. He went past the first few aisles, for the cookies and other packaged goods. Toby bent his head low, as if to survey the treats before him, but his eyes were drawn to the door.

The photographer came to abrupt halt, then… grabbed a newspaper.

“Hm,” the crimson gentleman murmured, gathering his slacks slightly so that he could crouch behind the display, considering a paper package of cookies.

She had followed him all the way here. Just to read? Very weird. Probably tailing him. Probably.

Or perhaps his line of work made him overly suspicious.

Tobias selected three packages of cookies, and made his way to the front counter, splaying his goods out between him and the cashier. They made the usual small talk, but the gentleman’s mind was racing. How to address the photographer… or did he even address her at all? Did he go the accusatory route? Or the clueless route? Or did he take a more roundabout walk to really ascertain if she was tailing him?

This, of course, ran the risk of her giving-up and leaving, and Tobias getting no answers to his questions.

Tobias paid for the confectionaries in cash, received his change, and meandered out through the front door.

The redheaded woman in question was smoking a cigarette on the curb, her gaze fixed ambiguously skyward. A smile quirked at the corners of Toby’s mouth.

“Good afternoon,” he greeted, “Lovely weather we’re having, no?”

He cradled the miniscule brown-paper bag, full of snacks, in the crook of his arm. One could assume, by his body language, that he was in no hurry to finish the small-talk that he was starting.

“A perfect day for some photography, too, I’d hope,” he continued, nodding to the camera around her neck, before turning his attention towards the crystal-clear sky, “Had any luck?”

Oh yeah, he was going full-clueless route. If his instincts were off, the worst he’d suffer was a bit of small talk. Toby was just a casual shopper curious about this elusive photographer, no suspicion whatsoever, nope.

ft. tama

quirk: c-rank burn, durability, heat resistance; combat abilities: jujitsu (e), magma sleeves (e), regeneration (d), cinder sprites (f)(summon); etc.: info. sifting (f), problem solving (f), interrogation (f), first aid (e)

ooc notes:

SHE LOOKED TIRED. But that really wasn’t something that you said to a lady. So Tobias simply smiled politely, keeping the paper bag cradled in one of his arms. And she seemed none too pleased to see him, either—perhaps she was incredulous, at best.

Whoever this photographer was, her Japanese was absolutely horrendous. Thankfully, with Tobias’s experience of speaking with all manners of people, he was good at translating even the most difficult of accents. It was impossible to place geographically, however—so perhaps she had an impediment?

Tobias waited patiently, but was astounded to find that the woman was infinitely more articulate in Japanese sign language than she was aloud. She didn’t speak like she was hearing-impaired, though.

The switch from spoken language to sign language was instinctual—years of communicating with Jessie had ingrained it in Tobias’s skull. If someone signed at you, you signed back. Tobias tucked the bag further into the crook of his arms, freeing up his hands.

“<I know Japanese Sign Language, actually,>” he signed back, his expression somewhat dumbfounded, “<My sister is deaf.>”

Tobias said "deaf" rather than "mute" intentionally. Something about being forthright about Jessie's quirk-related difficulties didn't sit right with him.

The photographer certainly didn’t beat around the bush. Rather than concoct some illustrious story about why she was lurking around U.A., the woman cut to the quick—she was writing a story about corruption in the government, and in U.A. in particular.

A frown creased at the corners of Tobias’s mouth.

And she was insistent that Tobias was her only lead. Was she suggesting that, if anyone knew there was corruption in the school, it would be him? Or was he the corruption of which she spoke? The smile returned.

In all his research, all the teachers had come-up clean. And the computer fiasco had been the work of one student blackmailed by the Plutocracy to do their dirty-work. There was no “traitor” that Tobias knew of… so either it was him, or this woman had been given bad intel.

“<Really? I am your only lead?>” Tobias signed incredulously—his gestures grew a little broader, indicating his disbelief, but he nearly dropped his paper bag. Momentary flailing to make sure he didn’t drop anything, followed by setting the bag on the ground, “<But I am just the librarian. Unless you need a recommendation for a good book, I doubt I would be of much help in such a…>” his hands trailed off, and Tobias looked skyward as if searching for the right word, “<… with such a potentially incendiary investigation.>”

Yes, that was the angle he was taking. Absolutely clueless. It was something of a ploy, an attempt to get the woman to reveal what she knew by pretending that he knew nothing. Hell, he might even give her a fake name, if she asked. It was all smoke and mirrors.

FT. mononobe tamanashi

quirk: c-rank burn, durability, heat resistance; combat abilities: jujitsu (e), magma sleeves (e), regeneration (d), cinder sprites (f)(summon); etc.: info. sifting (f), problem solving (f), interrogation (f), first aid (e)

ooc notes:

THE WOMAN ROSE GRACEFULLY to her feet, switching from one spent cigarette to a new one. An awful habit, but not an uncommon one. As the cigarette dangled from the woman’s mouth, she signed shrewdly at Tobias, asking why it mattered that he was her only lead, and insisting that she knew he was the “Informant”. Tobias couldn’t help the sly smile that cracked across his expression, and he adjusted the bag of snacks in his arm.

“Force of habit,” Tobias said apologetically. In a way, choosing to sign when someone else was equated to “code-switching” in Toby’s mind. A way of putting another person at ease by talking the same way they were. But if the woman wanted him to speak aloud, well… Toby needed his hands to hold his bag.

“I was more curious about why I was of particularly interest to you,” Tobias confessed, clearing his throat as the wind shifted and blew the cigarette smoke his direction, he quickened his pace slightly, to get ahead of the cloud and walk alongside his new acquaintance, “Although… if you think I am the Informant… I suppose your interest in me makes sense.”

Say nothing in full confidence, smoke and mirrors, be infuriatingly oblique. If the woman knew that he was the Informant, she knew one thing more than he did about her.

This earned Tobias a—well, he wasn’t sure what the woman had said, moreover what language she’d said it in.

“Are you polygot?” Tobias inquired, inclining his head and dodging the question of his confusion altogether, “And, if so, is it by virtue of your quirk, or by virtue of extensive studies? You’ve lost me altogether.”

He inhaled, shrugging his shoulders, “I’m limited to Japanese, English, and JSL. And perhaps a few sentences of Mandarin, but I’ve been told my tone is deplorable.”

ft. momonobe tamanashi

quirk: c-rank burn, durability, heat resistance; combat abilities: jujitsu (e), magma sleeves (e), regeneration (d), cinder sprites (f)(summon); etc.: info. sifting/investigation (e), problem solving (f), interrogation (f), first aid (e), disguise (f)

ooc notes: