[SEMI-OPEN] December Catchall

[bijective]

i.) Ritterlichkeit und das Schwert : Training Room

[With Sam currently out of commission, Hermann does not have it within him to stop the momentum of his sword training. He finds it paramount to continue practicing all he has learned so far. Even if it is basic sword strikes against a dummy.

Despite the physical daunting tasks, he continues to press on. Out of breath. Sweating. As long as Hermann can perfect at least one technique, he is making progress.
It’s not until he attempts at another forward strike that he accidentally trips and falls right on his face.]

…Gott verdammt!

ii.) Kuchen für Zwei : Kitchen

[Since the Braccia mission, Hermann had taken to baking as a new hobby. It started very small, at first, experimenting with a simple batch of cookies now evolving into more complex pastry recipes.
Today was no different as he carefully put the final touches on his carrot cake. He’s no idea how it tastes or how others might think of it. It’d be an awful shame if it went to waste.

He can’t help but look at his final creation, scratching underneath his chin out of nervousness. If you happen to be in talking proximity, he will most likely solicit your opinion:]

Please, be honest. Would you eat this?

iii.) Moon’s Reaching Stars: Laboratory


[Hermann promised himself that it won’t another late night. And yet he’s succumbed to listening to the quiet hums of the station as he continues to work at his station. In all fairness, this is all for the sake of future missions and so the timing on his workload is very sensitive. Hermann can’t waste even a second to back down on his current line of calculations.

A small yawn escapes him with his eyes also starting to feel bleary, yet he can’t help but shake the slight pain he feels in the back of his head.

Maybe if he tries resting his head on top of his workstation then…]

iv.) Fall Silent into the Night: Infirmary: [ CLOSED to Close CR - Dec 15-31st ]

[Another migraine. This time it’s more hideous than Hermann’s previous ones. Like a knife jammed deep into his cortex, it feels as though no amount of drugs can ease the pain. All Hermann can remember is trying to walk down the halls in one moment and then hearing young Shinjiro’s voice call out for him as everything soon turned black.

He’s in pain. And he is exhausted.

Minutes become hours as hours soon turn into days and then, eventually, weeks…

Had it been Christmas already? He can’t tell. Eyes far too heavy and sedated to be doing anything.

When Hermann finally cracks an eye open, he is met with a wave of nausea like no other. No matter how much he tries, there is no way for him to get out of bed.

Tired, sick, and alone.

Once more, Hermann closes his eyes, hoping that he will find some light at the end of this dreary tunnel.]

Comments

ii.

[droide]

[ Elthree isn't usually found in the kitchen, but there was a gallon of bantha milk in the latest food supply drop, and she's determined to figure out (on her own) how to make Finn a bantha milkshake.

When Hermann turns to her to ask about the cake he's just finished icing, she regards it with her optic for a moment, before turning her gaze on him. ]

No. [ She says bluntly. ] But I'm probably not the best person to ask.

[bijective]

Ah… [He looks down at the cake. There has been a vital miscalculation on his end.] Yes. I suppose you’re right. My apologies.

[He gives Elthree a polite head nod before setting his confectionary off to the side to cool.]

I suppose then that beverage is for someone else.

[droide]

Very astute, Doctor Gottlieb.

[ She's only kidding, though it does raise an interesting point. ]

Maybe... Could you taste it to see if it's any good? I don't want to give my friend a bum gift, after all.

i

[callada]

[So often, this is Rosinante's training room experience - he's there the same time someone else is, and while he often leaves an open invitation to help if anyone wants it, there are others who seem to take the lead in doing the training of the less-experienced, leaving him to his target practice at the far end of the room. He too often trains adjacent to people, rather than with them.

He's reloading a few rounds when he hears the clang of metal on the floor, the thump and swearing in a language that's vaguely familiar from the mix they have in the North Blue, that creole formed from so many ancient pre-Void tongues, and every time that happens here it catches his attention (and it happens more often than he'd expect). His gaze snaps over to the source of the sound, where he knew Hermann had been, and where Hermann is still now, but. On the floor.]

You all right?

[He calls over, but he holsters his weapon as he goes ahead and starts to walk over.

Maybe he can train with someone this time.]

[bijective]

["Just a small tumble…" He tries justifying to himself, though it doesn’t do very much to erase the soon-to-be bruise forming on his right thigh.

Incidents like this are par for the course. The only thing missing from the equation is having Sam's words of encouragement as Hermann fumbles for the umpteenth time. Any remnants of self-consciousness are left at the front door.

Using the wall as a clutch, he slowly picks himself up from the floor.]

Yes, I — [He lets out several heavy breaths.] I’m quite alright. It appears I severely misjudged my footwork….

[callada]

That's all right, it happens. You've been taking the self-defense courses a few people here have been holding, right? How's that going?

[Because look, one misstep doesn't mean he's going to assume the rest is all bad. It really does happen to everyone, especially him, and he got top marks in most of his combat training if one were to overlook the notes about his lack of balance and regular toppling over.

By the time he's near, Hermann has pretty well got himself upright, and Rosinante meanwhile counts himself lucky he didn't fall himself on the way there.]

iv.

[winscenario]

[ It's not hard for Jim to spot Hermann at the infirmary, as he tends to come and go somewhat regularly, if only to say hi to Bones when he's buried head deep in work. He hasn't quite gotten him for long enough to just sit around and chat, and Hermann doesn't look to be in any condition to do so either, but eventually his worrying gets the better of him and he decides to pay him a proper visit.

It's close to Christmas. It might even be Christmas Eve? He's not really sure, and he doesn't really care. But it's late at night and it's quiet in the infirmary, and Jim is wearing an appropriately red sweater and a silly elf hat. He's also brought a couple of things to hopefully cheer Hermann up, like a tiny tree ornament to set up on his bedside table, a wrapped gift that he sneaks under the bed so Hermann can't see it, and a little twig of mistletoe that he's holding by the wrapped stem, just to play it safe.

When Hermann finally opens his eyes, Jim smiles at him. ]

I was going to say you owe me a dance, but...

[ Well, evidently not the time for it. ]

What happened?

[bijective]

[In all honesty, Hermann didn’t expect to have many visitors. His current condition doesn’t exactly make him suitable to have company around. That and the mathematician has gone awfully pallid as a result of not soaking up a smidge of artificial sunlight.

But the sight of seeing Jim at his bedside tugs a small grin on his face.

Before Hermann speaks, he takes in a slow breath.]

This…? [He groans quietly to himself.] You’re…You’re bearing witness to the result of a three-way neural handshake between human... and kaiju.

[He tightens his eyes shut as he inhales.]

I’m experiencing a ghost drift.

[winscenario]

[ Jim wasn't exactly expecting Hermann to be the most joyful and energetic company right now, but that's not why he's here visiting him.

At the explanation he nods, not looking particularly surprised to hear it. ]

I had wondered about that, [ He mutters at first, looking him over with concern. ] With Newt's condition, I mean. He told me you two drifted together with the Kaiju, so I worried you might feel those side effects too, at some point.

ii.)

[spacedisaster]

Oh, I sure would. [ It's not so strange to find Peter in the kitchen, either because he's there cooking himself, or just because. Back in his world, the Benatar's kitchen was one of the places the guardians gathered the most, and Peter's come to associate the space with socializing. ]

Then again, if it has sugar, I would eat just about anything. But it really does look good.

[bijective]

I see…

[Good to know that Hermann’s little hobby can produce some value on the station.]

Well, that is reassuring. It’d be a dreadful waste of perfectly good food if no one bothered to try it.

[spacedisaster]

I'd eat almost anything as long it is not poisonous but it does look like you tried your best with that one. Is it carrot cake?

[ He can't remember the last time he had it, but Peter remember how it looks. ]

Can I ask what prompted this? Boredom? Or are you're practicing for something...?

iv

[coordination]

[ Can things CALM DOWN, FOR ONE GOD DAMNED MINUTE HERE????

If it's not one, it's the other. First Newton, and now Hermann? And Hermann ... he had been acting a little off recently, hadn't he? Of course just like Newton, he insisted he was ok, and now...

Ugh.

During the time he's spent out of commission, Yzak's dropped in some. A bit. A few times. Okay fine constantly to see how he was doing, if he's woken up yet. The more time that passes, the more worried he gets.

Until finally, the day comes that he does wake. ]

Hey.

[ That's all Yzak will offer him in greeting. Not to overwhelm. ]

[bijective]

[There is no sugarcoating the amount of pain Hermann had been experiencing the moment he collapsed. All he can do is lie there and hopefully have the medication run its proper course.

Even though he’s in no condition to sit upright and properly greet Yzak, he offers the young man the softest of smiles.]

Ah…There you are, Major. How…[A beat for a deep, shaky breath.] How have you been fairing?

[coordination]

[ Yzak doesn't smile back, but his expression softens some as he gives a nod back to him in response. ]

I hope you're not expecting any other answer but 'better than you've been'.

But I'm glad to see you finally awake.

How are you feeling?

iii;

[kovach]

[ in any other scenario, kovacs wouldn't be caught dead in the laborartory, not out of any sort of dismissal for the work that goes on there, but for the fact that messing around with science is far from his area. he's an action man, build for going out and getting his hands dirty; being cooped up in a lab, for all that he tries to improvise with experimentation if he's on his own, is far from his thing.

his reasons for stepping inside is less for its intended activity for more for ... a particular substance he'd gotten a sample of from newton during one of his early day on the station. and right about now, he's kind of hoping for another taste.

what he doesn't expect at this hour is someone actually inside or, rather, sleeping as it apparently looks like with his head on top of one of the stations.

deciding he'd rather not wake him, he's quiet on his toes as he attempts to move across the room, stealthy for his size, hoping not to wake the man — ]

[bijective]

Mnnngh… Oh! Bugger me!

[Too late, Kovacs. You really thought you can out silent step this little mouse of a scientist.]

That’s the third time today I’ve nodded off like that! There isn’t enough caffeine in the bloody world for daddy to get back on the saddle—

[And then Hermann spots the gentlemen standing not too far away from where he’s sitting.

Oh dear...]

Oh! Um… [He swallows.] Apologies. May I help you?

[kovach]

Oh, fuck —

[ the suddenly loud voice jolts him enough that even he nearly stumbles, accidentally hitting his elbow against the edge of a terrible, prompting yet another swear to leave his lips.

hissing, he gives his elbow a rub, looking over to the man mumbling something about daddy on the saddle.

he raises a brow, as if he isn't the suspicious character here lurking around. ]

I was, uh ... [ does he bother lying? ] Just looking for Geiszler's stash.

ii.

[calmness]

[xichen is in the kitchens for a cup of tea. he's been quietly moving around others, setting up a small teapot and a cup of tea in an attempt to recreate a moment from home for himself with some of the ceremony that would normally shared with another.

if there were anyone who appreciated the ceremony that went into tea on the ship. which, he's not sure there is. so tea for one it is. but a very good tea from braccia that reminds xichen of the tea leaves from home and make him miss the brother that never returned from that mission even more.

he's not expecting to be asked anything as he sets everything on the tray, so it takes a moment. he glances at the cake, then at hermann.] My sect's rules forbid lying and being picky when it comes to ones food. So yes, I would. [honesty, here you go.] Is it sweet?

[bijective]

Ah, [He nods.] Yes! Very much so. I expect that this buttercream frosting is balanced out by its more Earthier spices, so to speak. But thank you for your honesty.

[He then takes a second to recognize the scent of the tea leaves Xichen had been steeping.]

…That blend you’re using. Is that from Braccia? That scent is all too familiar.

[calmness]

We are forbidden from lying. [he offers again, not mentioning omissions or half-truths.] But it does sound like something I would eat. If only in moderation.

[someone has a sweet tooth that cannot be controlled otherwise.

he turns back to his tea and then stops, turning again to hermann with a tilt of the head.] Yes, it is. It reminded me of the teas we have at home.. You know it? [and there is some excitement in his voice because this is a very special blend of tea.] Would you like some?

iv.

[groupiedrifter]

[So, uh. Haven't been around since the awful situation in the infirmary before, huh? Newt's been kind of low himself, mostly sticking to his room and avoiding the lab more and more. But then Hermann wasn't feeling well, and if Hermann's not feeling well, Newt's gonna kick all his feelings to the curb and do what he has to do. He's not about to leave him alone in there, not completely, and not when he feels he's at fault for dragging him into the drift in the first place.

So he drums up some courage and stops in, a big bag in one hand and a plate of food in the other. Hermann looks like he's asleep at the moment, which is kind of a relief; now he can at least imagine things he can say, to stop being a coward and face the situation head-on. He puts the food wrapped in an aluminum foil on the bedside table carefully and then plops down in the chair, sitting with his eyes focused on a book he'd brought with him. He actually brought it for Hermann to read, but he's not about to wake him up, so...

Gonna just sit and let the silence linger, while the other gets sleep.

He can wait.

He's more patient than people realize. Where it matters, anyway.]

[bijective]

[There is no rest for Hermann. The throngs of sharp pain clawing inside of his brain are enough to lose his lunch and then some. All he can do is lay still pray that the fresh dose of medication finally kicks in.

Instead, his rest is replaced with the haunting imagery of derelict cities and human misery. Hopelessness. Numbers, as reliable as they are, can only do so much to quell the anxiety one feels after (time and time again) making calls rendezvous with death itself. The sensations of smelling soot, old rotting blood, kaiju entrails…

Well…

It’s enough to make one— ]

Waste bask—! [He retches.] I need…!

[He flitters a hand, hoping to have something to dispose of his undigested stomach bile before it’s too late.]

iii.

[naloxone]

[ marta happens to be a fellow night owl, though she is in the laboratory as often as she is in her own room these evenings, which would explain why the two's paths have yet to cross.

on this particular fateful evening, though, marta tiptoes into the lab for very un-lab related reasons. just as she'd been about to settle down for her evening rounds of storytime, she realized the book she'd been reading had been left behind after another house call from the doctor (the elder). the visit was hectic, as all visits with the doctors tend to be, thus marta isn't exactly sure where the book had gone off to so she's left wandering about the tables, hoping to catch a familiar cover so she can be on her way.

un(?)fortunately, it's hermann she winds up spotting first, the movement of his head lowering onto the desk caught in the corner of her eye just as she turns. she doesn't wish to disturb him, but she can't in good conscience leave just like that, and so she drifts close enough that she can drape an errant blanket over his shoulders; the lab can get as chilly as the infirmary does, after all. ]

[bijective]

[Back on Earth, it was commonplace for Hermann to sleep in the same place he works. There were far too many critical deadlines to hit. With Newton and himself being the only personnel in the Research and Development Division, neither had the luxury of a robust support system that can afford them a proper night's rest. Thus, it is very familiar territory when Hermann nods off on top of his desk as he feels the faint chill on his fingertips. His only source of warmth comes from the oversized cardigan he is wearing over his button-down shirt and trousers.

As much as hobbling over to his room sounds and retiring in more comfortable circumstances, he instead opts to think of warmer things: a cup of hot tea, a warm fireplace, a comfortable pillow, a nice blanket. Though Hermann’s imagination can’t be this vivid. It feels as though he has an actual blanket wrapped over him…

And that’s when he stirs.]

Hm, god heavens…

[Hermann’s subconscious firmly grips onto the blanket. As if he had been holding it for hours. He rolls his neck from side to side to rid of the invisible crick.]

Oh, dear. [He blinks a few times before pushing his glasses back up to his face to spot Marta.] How long have I been asleep?