Martin frowns, though the scar that permanently twists one brow higher than the other takes some of the intent from the expression, making him look more quizzical than anything else. Whether his companion meant bullies or punches doesn't matter. Neither of them have any right to exist in the world as Martin knows it. The aggressors, the bullies... they were the ones responsible for society's pain and suffering and one day, with his help, they would be stopped. It was the future they were all working towards.
He may be miles away from a classroom or a Young Pioneer meeting, but memories of films and lectures about Western imperialism in Vietnam flash through his mind regardless. The way that the younger boy speaks and acts makes that same fire -equal parts determination and disgust- rise up in him that usually only appears when confronted with pictures and stories of far off wars. It makes him want to do something, even if he doesn't know all the reasons behind it. It makes him want to fix things. It makes him want to do whatever he can to make a difference, no matter how slight.
"Come on. It is not far away." He extends a hand as he starts for the apartment, still hopeful, even if he knows the chances of it being taken are slight. "What is your name?"
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2017-09-25 02:55 am (UTC)Martin frowns, though the scar that permanently twists one brow higher than the other takes some of the intent from the expression, making him look more quizzical than anything else. Whether his companion meant bullies or punches doesn't matter. Neither of them have any right to exist in the world as Martin knows it. The aggressors, the bullies... they were the ones responsible for society's pain and suffering and one day, with his help, they would be stopped. It was the future they were all working towards.
He may be miles away from a classroom or a Young Pioneer meeting, but memories of films and lectures about Western imperialism in Vietnam flash through his mind regardless. The way that the younger boy speaks and acts makes that same fire -equal parts determination and disgust- rise up in him that usually only appears when confronted with pictures and stories of far off wars. It makes him want to do something, even if he doesn't know all the reasons behind it. It makes him want to fix things. It makes him want to do whatever he can to make a difference, no matter how slight.
"Come on. It is not far away." He extends a hand as he starts for the apartment, still hopeful, even if he knows the chances of it being taken are slight. "What is your name?"