Deep Blue Depths [IC] in Freeform Role Plays Posted December 4, 2016 "What'd you expect? You shoved it into my hands and ran off with my backpack!" Clearly, the boy hadn't thought things through. He seemed to care far more about the guitar than the bag. Perhaps it had been some kind of reaction to the disorientation of being awoken on a park bench with cold water to the face? It would explain some things, though Vogel preferred being punched. He honestly didn't understand what the man was talking about. Which radicals? As far as he knew, there were several different radical groups, like the "harmony with nature" and the "kill them all" ones. "No! I'm not a radical, I think, I actually don't know what you mean and a definition would be really nice. There's nothing shady, as so far as I am aware." He wondered if claiming to be an orphan who lost all of their birth records in a tragic, cliche fire counted as 'shady'. Oh well. The boy didn't need to know that. "It's... just an ordinary rock?" He cringed and looked away. "Yeah, sorry, that one was bad. Forget I said anything about heirlooms. I panicked?" As the implication of 'selling you' sunk in, his eyes widened. He forced them to relax; it was just a normal figure of speech. The man had no way of knowing, and the thievery was just a coincidence. "You tell me; you're the one that took them. Yes, I'm a student, I'm, ah, twenty-two," he was pretty sure that was what the official documents said now- as long as he hadn't had a birthday recently. "What? No, how would I be able to afford wine cellar if I'm a student, or have time to read, uh, he's some kind of philosopher, right? How old are you? I'm Vogel, by the way, if this is going to be some kind of introduction." Taking a breath, he paused to give the other boy some attention. He looked somewhat confused and frightened, and was doing something with his hands. Oh, it was probably a sign language, given that he hadn't heard the boy speak. More evidence that he should have taken that class. "Sorry, I can't- I should have some paper in my bag, if that'll help. Ah. No writing utensils, though." He didn't really need pens, and not having any worked pretty well to keep people from asking to borrow them. "Sorry about that." Vogel felt his eyes glazing over as the boy listed his coffee order. He didn't even realize some of those qualifiers existed, and he wasn't a stranger to coffee. "Ah. Would you mind repeating that?" He shrieked slightly as his bag was thrown over his head and across the crosswalk. Barely waiting for a car to pass, he rushed across the street. As soon as he reached it, he pulled open the zipper and thrust his hand underneath the books. He sighed in relief. It was completely irrational, he knew. There would have been no chance for it to even be opened since he'd last had it. Still, it was reassuring to be holding his bag again. Holding it too his chest instead of putting it on, he stood up and walked back across the street far more carefully than he had. "Okay. Thanks, I suppose. You get your guitar, and us three will meet in that Starbucks there, yeah? Oh!" He pulled a thick notebook out of his bag, flipped to a page that wasn't covered in diagrams of respiratory systems, and held it out to the second boy. "In case you manage to find a pen, if you want it?"