tampered | Log; Ongoing

Log; Ongoing

When; Sept. 3, afternoon
Rating; PG-13 for possible language?
Characters;

hundredflowers
Summary; Hong Mei needs to tell Sam some things about herself. Or push him off a cliff. One of these two things will happen.
Log; Sam really had no idea what it was that Hong Mei needed to tell him about herself that was so big it might be a problem. The only things that Sam could really think of that might make her balk is if she were a transgendered guy, a transvestite, or a Decepticon. The third option would explain the cliff setting, but if she really wanted to kill him, she probably could have done it before now, although Bumblebee had just left. At this point, getting pushed off a cliff might be a mercy.

He had mulled over it the entire ride out to the area, taking his Vespa as far as he could go and then following on foot. His hoodie was pulled tight around him to ward off the chill of death and the ocean breeze.

Seeing Hong Mei, he picked up his pace and hurried over to her.

"Just so you know, I've left three people know where I am," he joked. "So if you're going to push me off, you're never going to get away with it."

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There were certain things about China that Hong Mei missed. Undoubtedly, the ocean was one of them, muddy banks and murky rivers flowing out into an endless stretch of green, more vibrant than the city's fields, but more muted than the rice paddies in the more rural towns. There was no crisp scent of salt, but instead the distant smell of burning coal, and sometimes of oil--spills, in particular, were beautiful in their own way, shimmering rainbows spreading and seeping outward, leaving nothing pure in its wake. Of course, the dirtiest parts were only saved for the urban beaches. If one traveled far enough up north, there'd be cleaner waters, maybe even some safe enough to drink from, but everything was muddy in the country, anymore. Ever since the Great Leap Forward, holes punched into corn stalks in an effort to have the oxygen pass more quickly to the plants, supposedly helping them grow taller. They learned better. Heaps and piles of dead rodents, caught and meant to help the crops from getting eaten. They learned better. Trees, cut down by the forests, meant to help build greater buildings and free up fields for crops.

And they learned better.

It was going to take time, of course, for all of these things to be righted, for the grass to grow in the soil and for roots to keep the dirt in place, but if there was something that Hong Mei liked about the muddy waters, it was that they were honest. Didn't try to play at any oasis. The City's waters, on the other hand, were pristine. Glittering like jewels with the slowly lowering sun. And she hated it. Sitting on the edge of the crags, with an oversized uniform chafing at her elbows, sleeves rolled over several times, Hong Mei's brows were knit in distaste as she looked over the foreign scene. Still, that was something that she and the place had in common, lying. All the cute outfits and smiles, the clean cheeks and singing in a glittering bar, all of those were lies.

It wasn't right to cheat death, though, and in some sense, that's what Sam had become to Hong Mei. A representative of death, tinged and morbid, but honest. Death was cold. And death asked very little of anyone. A part of her, at first, felt that it was maybe a bit unfair for her to hold Sam to that sort of position, to hold the reaper's scythe, but maybe he'd been a little unfair, too. Pursuing something with Hong Mei when someone else clearly lived in his heart. And that was what made it okay, for the moment, for Hong Mei to let him step closer, because if his attentions were split, it'd make it easier for her to run if she needed. He'd have others to fall back on.

Hong Mei wasn't the type of girl made for happy endings, but neither was she the type who enjoyed causing heartbreak. She did genuinely like him, in part. So she turned around and smiled, and the smile was as honest as the dirt on her nose, her cheek, the lines that salt stains drew on her parts. She'd done a bit of climbing, before he came, because it reminded her of home.

"That's why I'm going to wait until midnight, you see," she grinned. "Then I can blame it on some sort of curse."

Sam was a bit surprised at the uniform, but he had to admit that he really didn't know a lot about China during the time that Hong Mei was there. The only things he knew about China's military were learned from Mulan and that one picture of the tank driving over the guy standing in front of it. And he didn't really trust the historical accuracy of Disney. So the uniform was... interesting.

"What if it's a curse where we turn into stuffed animals?" he asked, smiling back at her. He liked how she smiled, it was cute. It seemed... happy. And Sam needed happy right now. He didn't just want to use her though, he'd never asked her to the party or on a date unless he had genuine feelings for her. Or at least the potential for those sorts of feelings.

"Maybe if you turned into Teddy Ruxpin," he added. "Bears are the number one threat to... never mind. Ummm, you've got..."

Sam reached out with the sleeve of his hoodie toward her face. "You've got some dirt on your nose and your cheek."

"Then, I'd just ask the deities to keep you in that form indefinitely. I haven't owned a stuffed animal since I was four," Hong Mei replied, slightly haltingly. "I have to admit, though, I don't have any idea who or what Teddy Ruxpin is, aside from... a teddy bear, presumably."

Her legs swung over the edge of the cliff, occasionally hitting the rock and knocking some of the dirt and dust down below, billowing in the gentle sea breeze. She took his evident surprise in without too much of her own, because if there was something Hong Mei had always been able to take pride in herself for being capable of, it was changing. Morphing into whatever and whoever people needed her to be. And that night, perhaps, what Sam needed her to be was herself--not the type of boy who needed makeup, or dancing, or anything else. Although she'd hide the guns.

Hand patting the spot next to her on the cliff--if the height and lack of guardrail didn't scare him too much--she then looked up in Sam's direction, lips pursing.

"I don't mind dirt too much, but. You can get it for me?" Hong Mei asked earnestly, tilting her head up and closing her eyes, as his sleeve got close.

Sam really didn't mind the dirt all that much, he thought it was kind of cute and showed that she didn't care about appearances all that much. She reminded him of Mikaela a bit that way, a girl who wasn't afraid to get her hands, or face, dirty. Of course, it was easy to not care about looks when you looked like Mikaela or Hong Mei.

"Sure," he said, sitting down next to her and carefully rubbing the dirt off for her. He thought that the fact that she hadn't had a stuffed animal in that long was sad. He'd have to keep his eye out for something.

"There," he said after a moment. "No more smudged dirt."

Opening her eyes once he'd finished, Hong Mei drew her legs up, knees pressing against her chest, curling into a ball and peering out over the ocean again. People in the City had a habit of saying that no one ought to belittle the troubles that anyone else went through. That no one should ever try to assume that their situations were either trivial or more soul-crushing than those of others, but Hong Mei couldn't really keep herself from feeling distant, perhaps, at the things other people went through. What did she care about bombs, of robots, of the apocalypse if she thought that she could live through it all? The problem extended in two ways, of course--if she didn't care to try and put herself in the shoes of other people, then she wasn't sure what there was to gain by putting others in her shoes, either. She frowned, distinctly, as her chin rested on her knees, deep in thought.

"I'm actually twenty-five years old already," she began, absently scratching a cheek. "But I think I stopped aging, physically, around the time I was nineteen. And mentally, maybe I stopped even earlier. I'm not great about really letting people into my life in meaningful ways, and I'm even worse about staying in other people's lives, because honestly, there are times when I don't feel like I'm human. You're not the first person that I've explained this to, and you're probably not going to be the last. And every time I explain has been pretty much the same, because no matter how hard people try, no one's managed to tear me away from my train of thought, yet."

Biting the inside of her cheek, Hong Mei shifted her head, cheek resting then against her knees as she closed her eyes, letting the wind blow a sense of vertigo into her.

Sam listened quietly as Hong Mei talked. He had seen evidence of her healing ability, but he had chalked it up to just one of those things that you ran into in the City. Claire could do the same thing. He had never stopped to think about how they people with strange abilities might feel about them. Maybe Claire felt the same way and that's why she didn't tell anyone for so long.

"Okay, so maybe you're not human," Sam said. "At least, not human like I am. That- that must be really lonely for you, and probably a little bit scary. Immortality must suck if all it means is everyone you know ever is going to die and leave you. Shit, I'm really bringing the mood down."

He frowned a moment before going on. "I just- I can't imagine what it's like for you. But if you're human or something else... it's not a big deal to me. My best friend back home is an alien robot that only speaks through songs on the radio. Whatever it is you are... I like it."

Waving her hand dismissively, Hong Mei pulled her head away from her knees before she held a steady gaze with Sam, scratching at the side of her neck as she tried to figure out how to explain it. It was a language barrier in the most complete of ways, not between Chinese and English--the City solved most of that--but between sentiment and words. To call it scary and lonely wasn't quite fit, felt like an overlarge glove meant to cover any possible blemishes while not tightly fitting any of her concerns. It wasn't his fault. It was never anyone's fault--not her mother's, not her group leader's, not her peers. There was just a level of connection that she couldn't forge with the mortal, not because they were lesser, but because they had a very different vantage point, when compared to everyone else. Hong Mei felt a twinge of hurt as she recalled, once again, the conversations she'd had with Logan. It felt less like someone was trying to squint and pull meaning out of something they couldn't understand. It felt more like he could say a thousand words and more with a single look.

"Don't worry about bringing the mood down, because you're... not," Hong Mei replied, brows still furrowed in thought. "You're just stating facts. When I first found out, it was terrifying. And lonely. And I'll never be able to make people understand if they haven't experienced the same thing-- or even if they have experienced the same thing, they might not get it. I prefer it when people don't try to see it from my point of view. I'm not trying to have you understand what it means to be me, but I am warning you of what it might mean, for you. What you can expect. Because whatever it is that I am, you don't know me yet, Sam. I don't want you to tell me that you like it."

She shook her head, more at herself than anyone else, and looked back over the water again, taking off her cap and tossing it behind the both of them, letting the breeze blow her bangs to the side.

"Different people deal with their problems in different ways. What hurts me the most, being what I am, is when people leave, and-- back home, anyway-- everyone leaves. I realized that, when my mom died. It was so much easier to deal with aging if I left before I could ever see it. I've never been in a relationship that lasted more than a couple of months. And I've never fallen in love. I don't think I want to. Actually, it's kind of scary that I'm using the word 'think.' Because it means that what used to be habit-- being a good soldier, staying alive and killing before getting killed-- is now becoming a matter of choice. It's not comfortable. I think I'm going to end up running from you, too."

Sam tucked his knees up under his arms as well and stared out over the water. He got the feeling that he really wouldn't ever understand where she was coming from, which he guessed was the point she was trying to make. So, maybe he'd just let that go and not focus on it. Did he really need to understand where she was coming from? Well, in a few ways he would. She talked about killing and he'd have to understand where she was coming up with her reasons for that. Not that it was necessarily a bad thing, it wasn't like he hadn't killed too.

And he did like her.

"Well, too bad, because I do like you," he said. "Maybe there's all this other stuff to you that I don't know about that might make me change my mind or maybe you're this completely different person that I won't end up liking. But I like the girl who made the joke about pushing me off the cliff and who got excited over the music note skateboard and who danced at the club with me. And so maybe you do run from me, that's a chance you take in any relationship. And maybe I finish dying and I go to heaven or nirvana or get reincarnated or do whatever that elephant with all the hands says you do when you die. And I might leave. But you run the risks of that happening in normal relationships. I just- look, I want to see where this goes, okay? If it goes to one of us leaving or running, I'm willing to take that risk. I'm not even saying it has to be formal or more than friends right now. Just... ball's in your court, I guess. God I talk too much."

Tap, tap, tap, went Hong Mei's finger against the corner of her mouth, a nervous habit as she considered the things that he put on the table, as well as words of advice from her various mentors in the City. It was easy to determine what she would have done, were this China, and were he just any other boy there. Because that part of Hong Mei which Sam had outlined was the part that boys did like, the part of her which joked and took interest in the little things, who tried to mold herself to fit whoever she was with. It was enticing, to the boys, to have a girl who would adapt to their wants instead of only sticking to her own. How much of it was still, in the end, a lie? Skateboarding had been fun, dancing had been fun. Her nose scrunched, just a little, as Hong Mei ruffled the hair at the back of her head.

Normally, she'd let it begin, a 'relationship.' But back away as soon as signs of clinginess manifested. This was, of course, the very thing Logan had asked her to promise not to do, to run away when the going got rough, because he said it was worth it. Being attached to people. Appreciating them in full while they were around, and that made Hong Mei give pause as well, peering over at Sam.

She hoped that he'd end up leaving, or that things would wind up falling apart, before too long. It seemed preferable to end a game when one was ahead.

"You said that you had a girlfriend, back home," she began, moving the topic away from the ones that gave her headaches, resting her chin on her shoulder coyly. "She could come to the City too, you know. Would you end up going to her, if she did?"

Sam watched as she mulled over what he said. It was kind of cute, how she scrunched her nose up and played with her hair. And he liked that she was actually thinking about this stuff, that it was really serious to her. It showed that there was a lot to her, more than meets the eye.

The question caught him a bit off guard and he recognized that she was maybe avoiding some things. She might have been looking for a way out which, frankly, felt kind of sucky. Sadly, Sam was not a stranger to girls he liked trying to get rid of him.

But, it was a fair question. You wouldn't want to start a relationship with someone who would up and leave you any day if the right person came into the City.

"No, I wouldn't," he said without really hesitating. "I thought about that. A lot. But I'm dead, and it wouldn't be fair to her to expect us to be together. Because then what if her future boyfriend or husband showed up? It's just better for her and I to move on with me being dead."

Her finger still tapping against her lip, then later the edge of her jaw, Hong Mei finally sighed deeply and laid herself back, no longer staring at the waves crashing against the rocks, breaking into a million bubbles, condensing into foam. Instead, she stared at the endless sky above, wisps of clouds painted here or there. The ocean had a beginning, and an end, and it was limited in the way the sky wasn't, and sky and earth never quite met, no matter how much they tried. She reached up with one hand, sketching along the edges of the clouds, expression blank--the sky was eternal. Maybe kind of like her own life.

She was being selfish, thinking so much about how to protect herself when she didn't even spare a thought of how to protect him. When she was willing to put his own feelings in danger for the sake of guarding her own. Her eyes narrowed, squinted at the sun.

That was another funny thing. Being able to look directly at the sun. Her eyes always healed.

"If... you say so," she nodded, dropping her arm down and closing her eyes, almost as though in sleep. If things were doing to be difficult, she'd make it as simple as possible for herself. Go with the flow.

Sam felt like he needed to bang his head against something. He felt like it would be a good literal representation for his metaphorical situation. It would be nice if she would have given him a clue that she felt one way or another about his answer. Sam would have just given up by now if he didn't think she had something against relationships in general and not just a relationship with him.

Sam reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the tickets to the party on the 7th. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He probably should have asked Hong Mei before he spent so much money on the tickets. Shoving them back into the pocket, he stared back out at the water.

"Look, you know how I feel about this," he said. "And I don't know if you're scared of getting into something or just don't want to or what. But I don't want to force or push you. I'd rather not get into something with someone that... doesn't really want to be with me."

"It's not you, you know," Hong Mei replied frankly, without hesitation. "It's not like I think you're unattractive. Actually, I think you're one of the nicest guys I've met since coming here, and I like spending time with you, and... I brought you all the way out here--that's got to mean something. I just feel like my entire existence is one that isn't really... made for relationships, but. Then again, I feel like my entire existence doesn't really fit in the City. I'm not just trying for you, though--we haven't known each other for that long. I'm also trying because this... friend of mine, Logan, he's also the type who always heals, who can't die, and he said that I should really think more about myself and stop denying everything good that might happen to me."

She turned, still lying on her back, in the direction of his pockets, where she'd seen him stuff the tickets, out of her peripheral vision.

"You've been very honest with me. I like that. So... I don't know. If you think you can be patient, I think that I can definitely go to the dance with you. Is that some kind of start?"

"I know it's not just me," Sam said. "If I thought it was, I would have probably left a long time ago."

Sam really had no idea what to do in the situation. He liked Hong Mei and thought she was fun, attractive, and smart. But he also didn't want to stick with her just because he wanted her to know that someone thought she was worth it. That wouldn't be fair to her. But he did like her and he did want to get to know her better.

"It's a good start," he said, smiling. "But I need to know up front if the real you is the type to show up to somewhat nice parties wearing something like, I don't know, a Mickey Mouse costume."

She arched an eyebrow suddenly, picking herself up to her elbows--and wincing a bit when the grass burned against the bottom of her forearms, razor-thin papercuts appearing and bleeding a bit of red until they sealed back up, only leaving the slightest traces of dried blood. Hong Mei gestured over the cliff.

"You're still at my mercy, you know. Say too much and I could just pretend to slip and nudge you over," Hong Mei pointed out, jokingly, before she allowed the tension to work out of her shoulders, just a bit. "But really, Sam? I work every evening at the Blue Light, singing on a stage in front of... the entire bar's customers. And employees. If I can make myself presentable like that every day, I think I can handle a party. I don't even really know who Mickey Mouse is."

Everything else, everything that they'd just gone over, was quickly being tucked away in the recesses of her mind for the moment. There wasn't anything more to say, to discuss, because things were in limbo and to push them hurriedly in any direction wouldn't serve either of them.

"It's a cartoon character," Sam said with a bit of a laugh. "It was a joke. I really need to learn more about your culture and time so that if you make references to things, I'll get them."

It was, hopefully, a nice way to segue into something that was not talking about their relationship and therefore not so confusing and all the other stuff their talk just was.

"Like, I didn't think China allowed women to join the army."

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Log; Ongoing

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