"I guess… It looks kinda like red jello… but like, floating." Angela explained.
"And …that is eaten?" Mark said slowly, confirming what she had said previously in the conversation. He wore a look of rapt attention, feeling very confused, but also intrigued. Though, he wasn't entirely sure that Angela wasn't pulling his leg, telling him ridiculous things that he couldn't even begin to believe and continuing at a pace he couldn't really follow.
"Like. This. Chip." The young witch said in reply, devouring a potato chip in one bite.
"That weird…" Mark shuddered slightly at the idea of an evil soul being an edible commodity.
"I know right?", Angela said between another bite, "But it's the easiest way to imbue it's power, weapons are basically useless if they don't take at least ninety-nine. Some people take them other ways too, it's easy for weapons with a gun form to just absorb them through their clip, and some people have the control over their wavelength to just absorb it through the skin. That's what I was told anyway."
"Does it... Taste like anything?" There no way that this stuff could have been true, but on the grand scale of things Mark had to admit that this information was pretty interesting. Not to mention Angela herself was funny and knew where the Kageboshi family kept their snacks. Mark was starting to relax just the slightest as he enjoyed cola and a wide array of salty junk food. He wasn't normally allowed to eat this stuff at home, but of course that made it all the more delicious.
"Pshuu~ How would I know?" Angela shrugged, holding two potato chips between her lips as if she had a duck bill. "I'm just part of the food chain."
"Huh?" Mark nodded slowly, "What do you mean by-"
"-I'm sick of this conversion now!" The young witch enhaled the chips with a loud crunch and suddenly radiated some of that pulsing chaos from before. Mark shrunk back, caught off guard by her sudden change in emotions. The look on her face first started as anger but faded to fear and something a bit painful. It was in the course of a split second, but Mark could see. There was a long moment as he couldn't think of anything to say.
"So what kinda stuff goes on where you're from?" Angela started again as sunny as before, To Mark, it almost seemed like some sort of reset button had been pressed on the atmosphere, though he felt awkward going on as if nothing had happened.
"Uh, not much. Normal things. I go to class and practice the cello. My life is pretty dull but uh I-I guess..." Mark made sure to the leave out the "and I like it that way" part, just because it was true didn't mean he needed to be rude.
Angela laughed loudly at this statement, kindly ignoring his rough sentence ender. As her infectious laughter died, down Mark couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable.
"Don't be so sure that your life has the cornerstone on normalcy and dullness. You might be surprised by this, but those same things go on on a daily basis here at Shibusen. Maybe not so much cello practicing but, by my standards, it's dull here too."
"I would propose that our standards for dullness are wildly different." He replied with a slight frown.
"Whatever you say kiddo, but I get the feeling that you're gonna be here long enough to make that judgement for yourself~" There was a long silence before Mark heard the sound of a latch click in the entryway and felt the presence of another being enter his periphery. Angela glanced over her shoulder and yawned widely. "Well that's my cue to get going~ I got lots of important stuff to do, you know~" She winked at Mark and skipped to her feet, not offering even a second glance as she exited the small apartment. "I'll leave the rest to you!" he heard her say to someone unseen and she was replied to with a sullen and somewhat familiar-sounding "Rest of WHAT!" Marks stomach turned as he got the feeling that he was being abandoned once again.
The young cellist was not given the time to reflect on the foreboding statement with which Angela had left him, not that he would have wanted to dwell on it anyway, though he might have enjoyed a bit of general silence…
"Oh. You're still here." Mark looked up from the table to find himself face to face with a boy around his own age. He had black hair, pale skin and eyes that skirted the line between purple and red. He was slightly taller and much more muscular than Mark who immediately recognized the flashy urban looking way he dressed from the clothes he was presently in the process of wearing. While he put off a feeling a roughness his features looked noble and delicate. Mark couldn't really get a good read on the guy otherwise. Only that he seemed kinda pissed off.
"Uh- I suppose I am." Mark faltered at first but met his eyes. He may have been terrified of the supernatural, but bullies were a totally different story. He could tell from the look on his face that he followed the same ancient playbook that so many less intelligent, easily threatened and generally unimaginative people had also used throughout Mark's own school life. The only real way to get through it was to face them head on. "Is there a problem with that?"
"Yeah, There is a problem~" The other boy stepped forward and leaned down into his personal space, "You're sitting in my seat, and wearing my favorite T-shirt and it makes you look like even more of a scrawny loser." he gave Mark an intimidating look that would have been at home on the face of a terrifying street thug, though the words that came out of his mouth sounded more like the tantrum of a jealous five-year-old. Mar found himself caught very solidly between being nervous and amused. He watched the boy's purple eyes wander to the snacks on the table the slowly fixed on a small piece of orange colored shrapnel resting next to mark's elbow. His expression grew surprised and then even darker
"Y-You... YOU- YOU ATE THEM! YOU ATE MY SUPER SPICYBLAST PRETZEL STICKS!" he snatched up the plastic wrapping that now only contained fluorescent red powder. Mark looked up at his contemporary in surprise, he had been quite happy to find that the Kageboshi's had a supply of a both familiar and sought after snack from the world he considered normal. When Angela had brought out the basket full of brightly packaged goods and said that they were fair game Mark had made short work of the comparatively small bag. If he had known otherwise….
"Ah-" He could not think of something to say. No matter how one sliced it, he had unwittingly committed a very serious crime, one naturally deserving of rage. If someone had done the same to him he also would have been mad. And as he also knew, to speak any excuse would only deepen the soul-crushing rage of having looked forward to eating something and finding that it had been devoured by another. Bully or not this was something where Mark had to accept blame… "I-" he stumbled over his words trying to quickly think of something more to say to halt the swiftly moving wildfire, "I am truly sorry." he said with genuine brevity, "All I can do is ask for your forgiveness" He bowed his head slightly and awaited a response.
"YOU SNIVELING LITTLE LOSER-" Mark stiffened as a a rough hand grabbed him by the back of the collar, turning his insides to scrambled eggs as he was shaken back and fourth at some speed, "HOW DARE YOU GIVE ME EXCUSES ABOUT HOW YOU DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS MINE! WHY I OUGHTTA SLICE YOUR HEAD- Wait what?" The shaking paused slightly as Marks words seemed to register though it was back at full speed quite shortly, "WHAT DID YOU SAY YOU LITTLE TWERP!"
It was a little difficult for Mark to respond given the fact that his entire upper torso felt like it had gotten stuck in the dryer but he managed, trying to not bite off his own tongue in the process.
"I. SAID. THAT. IWASSORRY. FOR. EATING. YOUR. SNACKS. STOPSHAKINGME!" Mark was immediately released, sending the side of his face directly into the ground. Painful as it was, he was sort of used to this kind of thing by now…
"HN." Mark stayed down, feeling his new tormentor's eyes staring down at him. He seemed to be a bit flummoxed by the idea of Mark responding with something other than some lame excuse, he could feel his somewhat dim mental struggle flicking back and fourth in the air around them. "Don't think I'll forgive you just for some non-half-assed apology, but I guess I won't cut your head off or whatever." He heard some footsteps leave the room towards the kitchen.
Mark slowly sat up, letting the vertigo subside, he hoped that that was the last time be would find his face in close acquaintance to the tatami mats, but wasn't feeling like that would be the case...
When the other boy returned he had a soda which he opened and proceeded to chug as he sat down on the cushion across from Mark. He finished his drink in one go, crushing the can before discarding it somewhere behind him. It was obvious by the look on his face that he intended this to be a display of threatening strength, tho it just stuck the young cellist as piggy.
"My old man told me that I had to watch you, and I have way more important stuff to do, so you better not make this even more annoying." He spoke sullenly punctuation his speech with threatening finger pointing and such. Mark wasn't sure how to respond, but there was something about this guy that made him feel somehow less than truly in danger. At the risk of getting pummeled a bit more, he decided to speak his mind.
"Well it's not like I'm too thrilled to be continually treated like a toddler and held against my will." He said responding with equal ill humor, though he didn't voice the quip about how he was now a severely brain damaged toddler from all that shaking. One of the other guy's eyebrows raised slightly at his sardonic tone but this time he didn't move around too much. He just grabbed a handful of chips and started eating it loudly.
"You watch your mouth loser! You totally deserve to be held against your will!" he said with another jabby pointing gesture.
"And why would that be?" Mark asked, unimpressed, quirking one of his own eyebrows.
"Just," Crunch crunch, "Cuz-Cuz I dunno you're a loser. Death probably ordered it or something." He waved his hand dismissively and it dawned on Mark that this idiot basically knew as much as he did about whatever was going on behind the scenes. And while this guy was obviously not the sharpest tool in the shed, Mark caught on to a level of pride that had solidified into a chip of the highest caliber. Maybe if he asked the right questions, he could weasel out a few more answers.
"Why would Death order something like that?" Mark asked again, leaving out the "uncle" part, this guy didn't need to know. Besides, he was only related to the twin's father by marriage.
"I dunno, cuz he's a huge dick, stop asking questions or I'll punch your face off." Hm, Mark was wondering why was it that he was picking up on such huge waves of annoyance now that his Scary-Uncle-by-Marriage's name had come up.
"All I gotta say is it seems like a whole lot of people know alot of stuff that we are totally in the dark about..." Mark said with a "nonchalant" shrug.
"Who cares, I know plenty of stuff." Mark was sure that his opponent was just inches off from taking the bait. He needed words, word that were just hallucination gobeldygook to him, but had to mean something to someone there. Out of nowhere, they came to his head, something the mirror Aunt Chisa had said to the girl who was probably this dumbass's sister.
"They are having Spartoi secure the school's perimeter." To Mark, "Spartoi" could have easily been the family cat or a new kind of hemorrhoid creme, but as he spoke that name the other boy froze.
"What!" At first he was shocked, but then it morphed into something else, was that envy?, "You have got to be kidding me..." At this point he started to mumble things to himself, Mark a caught a few "no way"'s and something that certainly sounded like "taking all the good missions..." He stood up, looking pissed but it seemed his general aggression had been directed away from stolen snacks to some other imagined slight.
Mark relaxed a bit, his ploy had been moderately successful. Though it would have been nice to extract some kind of info, but Mark was just as happy to have turned someone's mind from ideas that mainly grouped around pummeling him. Now the dark haired youth whom was been previously been making Mark's life more difficult seemed to be focused on something else. He paced the small living room like a caged lion. Suddenly and without any comment, he walked right out, slamming the front door behind him.
As the sound of the door faded, a calm settled over the apartment. Mark blinked a few times, slightly amazed as a calm started to settle over his own mind. What a weird day, but he felt almost successful in finding that some of the same small skills that he possessed at home came in handy in a foreign place such as this. He took one long breath and enjoyed the silence, purposefully cutting out the fuzzy impressions of others that he felt all around. It was funny, he didn't remember having this level of control back home, though had he ever really been able to find people like that consciously either? Oh well, this silence was a gift and for this second he wasn't going to squander it with too much-
SLAM
Mark was jarred awake again by the forceful and unexpected opening of the front door. Before he could renew his bearing he looked up to see the now somewhat familiar figure of the young man that had just stormed out.
"Why the hell are you still sitting there?" He stood with his arms crossed, his chin held high, but tilted so that he could still look down with his eyes, "You coming or not!"
"Wha-" Mark trailed off, once again taken by surprise, not sure how to respond.
"Well!"
"I-"Mark looked up at the face of someone who had struck him as someone capable of nothing more than really loud temper tantrums, but there was an unexpected intensity in his eyes. Mark much preferred the safe and comfortable place he occupied, but... there was something about that look that made him feel guilty about it.
"The Demon Blade Masamune is asking if you're coming or not!" He held out his hand with a look that dared Mark to even think about saying no, "Stand up, you fucking idiot!"
Mark got to his feet, caught by surprise and thus cowed. A spilt second later he was grabbed roughly by the forearm, the Kageboshi's living room quickly disappearing behind him.