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ximilialog2022-01-08 12:12 pm
- ! event log,
- ! open,
- altered carbon: takeshi kovacs,
- doctor who: clara oswald,
- doctor who: the doctor (11),
- fear street: ziggy berman,
- grishaverse: alina starkov,
- grishaverse: the darkling,
- gundam seed/destiny: yzak jule,
- knives out: marta cabrera,
- marvel comics: gwen stacy,
- mass effect: kaidan alenko,
- mcu: daisy johnson,
- mcu: shang-chi,
- pacific rim: hermann gottlieb,
- pacific rim: newton geiszler,
- pacific rim: raleigh becket,
- star trek aos: james t. kirk,
- star trek aos: leonard mccoy,
- star wars: finn,
- star wars: l3-37,
- the old guard: andromache,
- the untamed: jiang yanli,
- towards the terra: soldier blue,
- transformers: drift,
- transformers: megatron,
- yakuza: zhao tianyou
MISSION: BAD COMPANY, PART 1
● ● ● M I S S I O N 4 . 1
This time it’s barely past noon when the familiar ping of a message alerts you that a new mission file is finally available: it’ll read Scorpion’s Bend, and the file’s arrival is immediately accompanied by Viveca’s voice.
To help you blend in, I’ve prepared bundles of clothes for each of you, rations for those with special diets, and enough of the local currency to buy you a few nights in town. After that, you’ll have to provide for yourselves. I’ve also divided you into groups, and each group will arrive at the town at a different time… so those in the first group, prepare to live in the town for a month or so, while waiting for the rest of the team to arrive. Make up a good story, and don’t blow your cover.
The instructions are clear: after you’ve familiarised yourself with the file and its contents, you find that, indeed, there are neatly laid bundles marked with a name in the common room providing appropriate clothing to help you blend in better… and is somehow tailored to fit you perfectly.
Unlike previous missions, there will be plenty of time to talk to those in the same group as you, to come up with plans and stories that’ll explain your arrival in town. And as the two days pass, you all gather to the center of the station again, some for the fourth time, some for the first — it is not only Viveca, in her robot body, who is there to see you off, but Degar as well. He tips an invisible hat in your direction.
Having probably seen far too many bad spaghetti Westerns, Degar sends fingerguns in the team’s general direction before blowing a breath off the tops of his fingers and re-holstering said fingerguns into equally invisible holsters at his sides. It’s really all extremely cheesy, and he knows it – made obvious from the slight grin on his face.
The platform hums to life as Viveca, too, smiles at the gathered team — even if there’s some tightness to it.
The increasing noise of the teleportation machine nearly drowns out her words as the light around you grows brighter, brighter —
Until it’s all you can see, and the familiar tug drags you away into nothingness. There, the echoing voices speak to you once more, laying out the goal you have to complete… and then, without a chance to respond, you are wrenched away through time and space.
As soon as the light dissipates and the voices die away, you are left floundering in the darkness — seconds, at most, as each of you is sent to a set time on the planet. But how you arrive will depend entirely on when you arrive.
1.0A: GROUP 1 Awareness returns to you as you find yourself on your feet, suddenly standing in the Mayor’s office with a half circle of twenty other Orbers just as mildly disoriented as you are. Madam Reilly is positioned in the centre, her fierce eyes shining with approval as she looks up to meet your eyes.
She rounds her desk, studying every new arrival with care.
She sounds sincere enough, but the glint in her eye betrays her, telling you that she’ll likely expect that the hospitality be repaid through hard work and the wealth it will bring the town.
So take the voucher, thank the Mayor for her audience with you, and leave to do a little exploration; and as you do, many of the locals will wave at you, though some might eye you with suspicion. As Madam Reilly said — it’s been a while since any previous wagons made it to town. New arrivals are … well. They’re something of a novelty.
1.0B: GROUP 2 The first thing you register when you regain your wits about you is that the wagon you’re sitting inside of suddenly stops, making you jolt. Above you, the steady sound of rain hitting the wagon’s fabric cover with increasing intensity fills your ears.
Without preamble, a youthful voice from outside shouts:
With nothing to do but brave the rain and leave the confines of the wagons, you follow your fellow Orbers out on shaky legs. Once outside, blinking away the rain in your eyes, you see riderless horses pulling the wagons, parts of their heads replaced with metal.
It won’t take long before you realize you are in the middle of the town road, and in front of the wagons stand two people: a large man with an eye-patch, and a smaller, young alien with sparkling eyes.
Deputy Duke speaks with a bright grin — one that the Sheriff doesn’t share.
His one eye scans over the Orbers who are slowly getting soaked in the downpour, and snorts.
Somehow, his cheerful disposition makes the threat not really sound like much of a one.
Still, they both watch you carefully as you walk past them. Where you go next within the town depends entirely on you, but the signs pointing to the Saloon and Inn are clearly visible, and you’ll likely want to get out of the rain. And who knows, there might even be a few familiar faces already here to greet you.
1.0C: GROUP 3 You wake up with your face buried in something rough and dirty, paired with the sensation of someone shaking at your shoulders. As you blink your eyes open, someone’s face is too close to yours, a face you’ve never seen before in your life, and they’re dressed in rough-hewn work clothing. They take a step back, crouched on their haunches, but the relief in their eyes is palpable. With a sigh, they shake their head and then yell:
As you get up, you’ll see others dressed similarly, all miners, rousing familiar teammates around you. Scattered in your immediate surroundings are the remains of several wagons, a piece of a roof cover flapping uselessly against a large rock. When all of you have woken — some hale and hearty, some with scabs and bruises, some with bleeding cuts — one of the older miners approaches you, his gaze taking in all your faces.
One of Rex’s miners shouts and the others laugh, hastily helping the rest of you up on your feet to escort you along the road that leads into town.
Perhaps you’ll let yourself be helped, or you’ll rush to help those who have been wounded in an attack you can’t remember … or perhaps you’ve already left the others behind to go into town, to see what it has to offer and to meet those who have come here before you.
With all the introductions said and done, it’s time to take to the small town of Scorpion’s Bend and scope out opportunities for the remainder of your stay. For those of you from more temperate, wetter climates, you might find that desert life takes a little bit of getting used to. Two suns beaming bright white rise high over the cloudless horizon, soaking the land with hot light throughout the daytime. With the dust and debris and very little lush vegetation, it’ll be easy to find yourself quickly heating up, where the only form of shade in this town is found within the establishments themselves and under awnings. The evenings do bring beautiful sunsets, however, with a spectacular sight of the five small moons of Badrock glowing like dim spheres of varying sizes across the dark, night sky. There are very few stars out and the temperatures drop dramatically when the suns are down.
2.0 A Bed Too Large: In front of Crow’s Tooth Saloon and the nearby Thornbush Inn, you’ll find seating as though these buildings can read your mind and understand the need for quick refuge from the scorching temperatures. This is where you’ll be able to find yourselves beds to sleep on tonight.
Crow’s Tooth Saloon is an especially lively hub throughout the day. Mornings will see a cluster of miners grabbing breakfast before their trek out to Guncross Mountain — small breakfasts of eggs and sausage and the blackest coffee; noon will find the desk-job men and stablehands congregating for lunch and a drink — sandwiches, biscuits and meat pies with alcohol; and by mid-afternoon leading into the late night hours, fathers and sons and daughters and miners will have returned for dinner and a chance to let loose before the day’s events repeat again the next day. The occasional lone rider might be found at a table some nights before heading to the next town over. A couple of miners, both younger and old, keep to themselves, sitting alone with their whiskey at the bar. The pianist, Tommy Jellison, makes his wages by playing the evening into the wee hours of the night for tips, spinning jubilant tunes on the keys with his five hands, and belting out the odd vocal accompaniment. Sometimes there will be games of cards and coins, and opiates and stimulants aren’t uncommon: both to obtain and to use. The owner, Emzi Hanegan, turns a blind eye to most of the latter.
But Thornbush Inn won’t be void of life either. A three-story rectangular building with painted black and white exterior wood walls, Thornbush Inn can easily be found not far from behind the Saloon. This is where travelers, not all that frequent lately, will come to stay during their time in Scorpion’s Bend. The Innkeeper, Terrance Trawley, has been doing this for a very, very long time, and boy the stories he could share, once coaxed, would paint a colourful picture of the town’s history. Rumour has it he’s been known to embellish a few details every now and then, though. "Adds flavour," he says. You’ll be welcome to keep a room while you’re here, but he'll encourage you to keep a roommate if you do — space is limited and so are the coins in your purse, but would you be needing the turndown service at all?
3.0 For a Fistful of Dollars: Turns out the money you’ve received to spend in this town goes out sooner than you’d like. This means making quick work of integrating yourself into the workforce by offering your services and using those airtight backstories to find a position best suited for you and your fellow townsfolk. For those of you who are good with people, you may want to speak with the owner, Priory Halhast, of Scorpion’s Bend General Store; she’s always looking for bright, gorgeous faces to greet customers daily, take their orders (simple and practical items such as hygiene products, toiletries, cleaning products, basic cooking ingredients and the like), engage in a little small-talk, and to offer the occasional home delivery service. If you’d rather keep to yourself, ask her about working as a stockist or helping to keep some of the books in the back in order.
Similar positions can be found at the Trading Post, where all it takes is a quick chat with Lawturn, the gruff, bearded stocky owner in the poncho and black stetson. Dealing with imports and exports between other towns, they’ll be expecting strong hands and quick minds to handle some of the sales and incoming stock for the town. Sometimes this includes spare wagon parts and food and supplies for the animals.
And speaking of animals, for those of you who have a sixth sense with them, or simply want to avoid the chatty townsfolk all together, the Stablemaster, known simply as ‘Horseshoe’ could always use an extra set of hands to help with the grooming, feeding, cleaning, and maintenance of the horses and other animals, as well as the travel wagons. The Stables can be found near the Trading Post; it’s just a quick-ish jog (if you can stand the heat) to the large wooden barn in faded red wood where you’ll be greeted by the sounds of dogs, cows, chickens, sheep, owl-shrews, varkdogs, and flower mantisaurs.
4.0 The Good, the Religious and the Spicy: Over the month, some of you might find that even in a place as small as Scorpion’s Bend, there is disparity between the cleaner, ‘nicer’ parts of town versus the more dilapidated and seedier areas. The town’s segregation isn’t quite as clear-cut with the main street and its numerous businesses acting as a central hub for all of the townspeople. However, the schoolhouse and the church, Celestial Mercy, stands proud on one end, while Sindown, the town’s infamous pleasure house marks its place on the opposite side and are often referred to as the ‘Light’ and the ‘Dark’ sides of town respectively, and not always with a smile.
The schoolhouse is directly connected to the church, and the children in Scorpion’s Bend spend most of their days at their desks learning to read, basic arithmetic, history, science, and the planets. While not exactly off-limits to the Orbers, in order to keep disruptions of the childrens’ education to a minimum, the headmistress, Joella Friegrass would prefer scheduling appointments to speak with her or any of the other staff in school.
Some of these students will go on to become teachers at the school, indoctrinated into the Sect of the Eight Divines, or otherwise find positions throughout the town. While not closed to other practices of worship, Father Alois of the Celestial Mercy mainly preaches the gospel of the Eight Divines and would happily spend time explaining this religion with you. The church itself is a brown wood building with a peaked roof and long, arched windows lining the sides. Above the doors is a small bell tower, used to mark celebrations, funerals, the beginning and end of a sermon, and other special occasions.
If you decide to make a thorough exploration of the length of the town, you’ll inevitably wander over to Sindown, the Bend’s pleasure house. Sindown is owned by Madame Rella, whose brief appearances at her own establishment only ever seem to happen during the latest hours of the night, and only for long enough to check in on her clients and workers, and to ensure the peace. She isn’t a woman to be reckoned with and anyone who winds up on her bad side will find themselves regretting it for the rest of their days. Find someone you might want to have a night of pleasure (or pain) with, book a room within the house (with all of the comforts provided), and be sure to pay upfront. Or simply stick around for the drinking, the drugs, and the nightly card games shared among the townsfolk and vagabonds with higher stakes than those you might find at the Saloon.
5.0 After Hours: When the novelty of the stetsons and ponchos have worn off like the shine of the spurs on your boots, the more observant Orbers might find that the whole town feels just a little off. The incoming stock coming into Scorpion’s Bend never seems to change, and so the food at the Saloon arrives at breakfast, noon, and dinner without a hitch, always exactly the same, and all of it tasting just a little less flavourful the more you start to analyze it. Eggs and sausage and bread, for example, all start to taste like the same thing.
Everyone’s got their routine, including you, and you might start paying attention to those schedules as you continue to work at your job, explore the establishments, and speak with the townspeople — both the regular folks of the day-to-day, and the ones with a little more power and sway in the town. Every now and then, someone’s temper might flare up resulting in a dramatic bar fight amongst the drunk and those who happen to arrive at the wrong place and time; or you might watch as a couple of the Saloon’s patrons challenge each other to a noontime duel. Try not to make an obvious target of yourself as you explore the town, of course, or you might wind up in a bar fight or a duel of your own. Don’t have a gun? It might be time to find one.
6.0 Out of Town: Any hooligans and lawbreakers will find themselves facing Sheriff One-Eyed Wilson and his Deputy before you even have the wherewithal to utter: ‘yee-haw’. The Sheriff might only be working with one usable, clear eye, but he’s always been the fastest shot on this side of Badrock and he protects this town with everything he’s got. Petty crimes and rowdy behaviour will be punished in levels of severity ranging from warnings to fines to nights spent in the town jail.
One night you might wake up to the sound of shouts and gunfire. If you aren’t already awake, or if you never went to bed in the first place, you might be able to make out a group of figures on horseback, hollering and hooting with pandemonious glee as they ride through town, their faces covered by scarves and wide-brimmed hats. These bandits dash for the stores with the intention to loot the town for everything they’ve got before making their way out with their spoils. Remembering that this could be the last of the incoming stock for weeks, you might want to join your fellow Orbers and residents alike to defend the town from the pillaging or face weeks of struggling recovery.
A substantial population of Scorpion’s Bend is made up of miners who have snatched up the opportunity for work and a promise of prosperity while in town. Early in the morning, every morning, those who have jobs at the mines wake up before the sun rises, have their breakfast, and head in split directions: some to Guncross mountain, and others, including you, to the mines located right at the edge of the town, for another hard day’s work. Wagons full of workers make the trek every day, digging for the wealth that lies underground: ore and metal and precious stone used in the formation of construction materials, jewelry, and other treasured items. It’s a lucrative enterprise but to maintain some semblance of order, all workers must first be approved by the Miners Guild, not always an easy feat for newcomers. You’ll learn that to be a full member of the Guild and have access to the mines on Guncross, you’ll need at least half a year’s work within the town, but prove yourself and you may have opportunities to gain some experience at least.
7.0 The Ecstasy of Ore: The wagon leaves just as the moons fade for the night and the barest hint of the suns begins to warm up the sky with light. You’ll be packed in with other townsfolk just like you: eager to get to the mines, or maybe still drowsy with sleep, or maybe a combination of both. During the trek there, one of the older miners might be inclined to share a bit of advice with you, give you the basic 101 in mining. “Keep a lookout for the shiny stuff,” he’ll joke. He looks to be in strangely good spirits for someone up so early.
You’re dropped off by the front with your gear and your fellow miners as the sun continues to rise. Soon it’ll be scorching hot but until then, you feel comfortable, maybe even a little chilly. You’ll be working alongside people who look human, and an alien race called tunnel hounds who have a particular talent for this sort of work. If you want to learn quickly, you might want to speak with one of them.
The tunnel is carved deep and bright lanterns lighting the way inside, hung on a long line of rope every six to ten feet (1.8 to 3 meters). As you work your way deeper, these lights become more and more sporadic, however, so it may be a good time to turn on your torchlight and continue with the group. The reflection of your light will inevitably catch on a shiny surface lodged into the tunnel around you and in crevices further in. It’s this metallic ore that you’re meant to be harvesting; this is the 'shiny stuff'. As you get to work, sweat forming along your brow, the rhythmic sound of your pick-axe pinging against stone, you may or may not hear a silent hissing sound in between. One of the tunnel hounds will suddenly reach out to stop you with sharp claws, and then make a silencing motion before gesturing to the flame-coloured serpent coiled near your foot, too close for comfort. This is an embera, a reptile that can infect their victims with a fire-hot venom that burns the blood in your veins until the heat of it kills you if the pain doesn’t first.
Avoid getting bitten by these creatures that seem to make the tunnels their home; and if you do, there’s still a chance you can seek help if you do it quickly. The effects of the venom are slow (but still painful) and will be at its peak in a few hours.
8.0 The Countdown: Anyone that decides to explore the Scorpion’s Bend past the mines and tries to head to the desert or towards Guncross mountain may find that their long walk forward only leads them back into the other end of the town, strangely like they’ve somehow walked an entire loop. No matter the trek, this trajectory never seems to change. You might try leaving from the east, for example, only to wind up entering directly into the west side of the town.
Of course, you could try and ask around for an explanation to this bizarre occurrence, but even the most sensible of townsfolk will look at you with reactions spanning anywhere from sympathy and pity to amusement and disgust. Most will laugh and think that perhaps you should lay off the whiskey, maybe grab another black coffee. Others will simply think you’ve been out in the sun for too long or you've been chewing gravel. Either way, it might make you think; after all, that lone rider from the other night had left by the next day, hadn’t he? And what about those bandits chased out of town?
F Y I
• If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.
• To submit a search request speaking to any NPCs mentioned in the log, trying to overhear conversations, or exploring any specific place during any of the prompts, please do so HERE.
• And finally, have a soundtrack for this log! ♪ ♪ ♪
closed to kovacs
It's hard to shake the feeling that she should be better, should be something more. The other orbers depend on having useful team members. Lists and taking care of people is well and fine, but it doesn't really do anything in the long run. So she throws herself into practicing when most everyone else is either asleep or hidden away at Sindown for the night. Some nights it's practicing with the throwing knives Itachi insists she needs better focus with, others it's the magic Sabriel is kind enough to try teaching her.
Tonight she's gotten her hand on a shotgun, and is currently attempting to figure out how to use it on her own. She's lined up a row of already cracked glass bottles and jars she found in the general store's trash, and is trying to figure out how to best take aim and fire. Her first few rounds have her missing completely, and cursing under her breath in annoyance. She's on a limited number of rounds here, and although she has a small pouch of bullets with her she's not looking to waste them all trying to hit glass off a fencepost.
Clara's so absorbed in attempting to do well with the task that she isn't particularly paying attention to anything going around her. It's so late and she's out past the stables far enough that she's sure she isn't disturbing anyone. The thought of someone else being out in the cold, late night air all the way out this far doesn't even cross her mind.]
no subject
his own nights haven't shifted in their routine much, though his efforts in seeking out lovers at sindown practically ceased altogether, realizing that even the casualness of a meaningless affair wasn't what he needed right now. instead, if he isn't roaming in town somewhere with a bottle, he redirects his energy to the actual work he'd signed up for to begin with, investigating around the town's suspicions in hopes to get this orb thing sorted out — he has a deal to follow through with after all.
tonight, he ventures further towards the outskirts of town, having heard faint talk about suspicious activity in the later hours. it's likely nothing relevant but with little to go on these days, anything proves worth looking into — and when he hears gun shots this far out and this late, it's impossible not to be find some concern over what he might discover.
it's thanks to the moons that there's enough light cast over the field for him to notice the familiarity of her figure, like he's studied her more than enough in their nights together for it to be impossible to not know her, even in the slight darkness at a distance.
if he follows suit on his own suggestions, he'd step away, but as he hears another shot, his nose scrunches with worry since — well, he knows clara isn't actually an active gun user. he holds his arms up, palms open, before speaking out, making sure she doesn't perceive him as a threat, since the last thing either of them need is her accidentally shooting him down out here. ]
Might want to ease up on all that shooting, cowgirl.
no subject
There's a smile on her face at first upon seeing him, one of those instinctive things that she can't help. But then she recalls their last conversation and what he's asked of her, and she's very mindful to keep her expression more passive. Slowly her finger slips away from the trigger and she lowers the gun, holding it only one hand now. It still feels unnatural to be holding a gun and trying to use one, but she tries her best to put her best confident and brave face on.
He's the one talking to her first. That's as good as permission for her to speak back and have an actual conversation, she figures.]
Why would I want to do a thing like that?
[The question comes out a bit clipped and put out, as she turns her head to look at the glass bottles and jars over on the fencepost. When she glances back at him, there's a stubborn glint in her eye.]
I haven't managed to hit a single thing yet. I can't stop now.
no subject
at least she does eventually lower down the gun, his own muscles relaxing as he lowers his arms down, seeing the inconsistency in her demeanor. not necessarily surprising since ... what they have right now is a bit up in the air. when she seems alright with his presence, he takes steps forward across the dirt, moving in a little closer to her, still maintaining a few feet of distance as he peers out to the untouched bottles. ]
Well, if I'm being honest, it usually helps to be able to make a shot when you can actually see.
[ the moons provide something of a light source but for someone who isn't well versed with the weapon at all, it's definitely a disadvantage. he turns his eyes to her, brows raised with an unsure tilt of his lips. ]
Why aren't you just asking someone to help you out with this in daylight?
no subject
In between helping at the clinic every morning, and teaching all day, and working at the saloon at night? This is the only time I can find to do it.
[The hand that isn't holding onto the gun reaches up to briefly rub at her eye. She's running herself ragged this mission and is exhausted because of it. But she needs to stay busy, knowing that if she doesn't, she'll fall apart all over again.]
You should've seen me out here practicing the throwing knives someone gave me. I was at it for hours, until my hands were covered in blisters. And I still could barely hit the stupid tree.
[That last part is mumbled out in total self-loathing. So maybe her dedication to trying to become stronger and learn to be a fighter isn't going as well as she had hoped. But she's determined to learn, at least for now. ]
no subject
but their relationship being on the far end of complicated means anything out of his mouth wouldn't matter to shit, with no place to tell her what she should or shouldn't do.
still, he's here, in the darkness of the late hours of the night, seeing the obvious hints of her frustration, like he's sure that with a bit more light, he imagines he'd probably even see her shaking from it.
for a moment, he says nothing at all, like he's deciding carefully on it, before he crosses his arms, speaking plainly. ]
Probably had to do with the way you're standing. It's all stiff. Knife isn't gonna go anywhere if you're not propelling it down a specific path. [ he nods his head, lifting a finger from his still crossed arms to point towards her feet. ] Same with those bullets. You've got sloppy foot work. It restricts your range.
no subject
Her stubborn pride is a terrible thing sometimes though, every defense mechanism inside her screaming that she say something to make him stop criticizing her efforts. It's not like he's saying it in a way that's judging or harsh. But it isn't lost on her that she's so desperate to speak with him that she's willing to let him say whatever he likes, just so she can have him near and hear his voice.
It's pathetic.]
What are you doing?
[She questions him cautiously, a single eyebrow arching like he's completely exasperating.]
no subject
[ it's a safety hazard. that's the way he'll explain it, what he's doing now, because he knows what he'd said about keeping the space between them, how he hurt her all for the sake of getting that message across. if he weren't so genuinely concerned about how she uses that gun, he'd have walked away by now.
he takes a few more steps her way, a sigh in his breath. ]
If you're gonna practice, you should practice the right way. Otherwise, you're ... just gonna get more frustrated and the last mood anyone needs to be in with a weapon they don't know how to use in their hand.
no subject
Dunno. I just had a chance to shoot you in the face and didn't.
[It's easier in the end to keep to dry humor and just deflect his attempts to teach her with casual indifference. It may help distract him from the fact she's confused and unsure, the wheels in her head quickly turning to try and figure out if this means they're on speaking terms now.]
I'd say I'm not entirely hopeless.
[There's a pause as she relaxes marginally. Enough that he'll be able to pick up on it, given how well he's able to read her by now.]
What would you do differently?
[It's not agreeing to let him help her, but it's not telling him to fuck off either. It's a nice, neutral middle ground. Something the both of them can likely work with. ]
no subject
her chance at a threat makes him purse his lips a little, eyes steering away like she's almost right, though he does think you'd have probably missed, avoiding saying the words out loud for good reason.
instead, he reaches into his pockets for his cigarettes, just for something to keep his hands busy. ]
Feet should be shoulder width apart. Left forward a bit to balance the weight. Keep the left elbow pointed down. Right elbow, stick it out. Just a little — not to go poking an eye out.
no subject
It's with both eyebrows arched that she glances back his way, like there's nothing she's just done wrong in her execution.]
Maybe I should tell you to mind your own business.
[It's mostly a tease, one that has little to no bite. He seems pretty dedicated to helping her figure this out, and figures a little banter isn't going to send him running.]
no subject
[ maybe if she yelled at him, pushed him away, it would make this all easier. maybe it's precisely what he wants after how much she's countered him when he's tried to do the very same, no amount of cruelty from his lips enabling her to step away from trying to stay in his life.
so why is he here now? they've managed maybe two to three weeks in maintaining a distance, giving him precisely what he'd ask her to give, so why does he need to be here now once again ruining the progress of trying to make her life a better one without him being a constant presence.
when she moves into position and still misses the shot, he remembers why. ]
Your posture's better, but you're still tense. [ he lights the cigarette in his mouth, taking a deep breath, eyes still on her to look at her body language — for the purposes of the lesson. ] It's keeping your muscles locked up. You want to keep your body light so there's a better ease when you're aiming. It's gonna be necessary when you're working with targets that aren't stationary.
no subject
You keep criticizing me, but aren't showing me what to do.
[With a sigh, she steps in close enough that she can reach up with her free hand to take the cigarette out of his mouth. Not to smoke herself, but to give him a bit of incentive to be a teacher long enough to earn it back.
It's a curious thing to move into his space now though. There isn't the spark of uncertainty or hesitancy that had been there back at Sindown weeks prior. It doesn't particularly feel natural yet, but she's not left second guessing her every move. It's the first time she's felt hope where he's concerned since Christmas.]
Can you get me into the right position with this thing in your mouth? Or should I put it out now so you can properly focus?
[This is her, relenting. He's free to actually give her a lesson here.]
no subject
he could argue that, of course, but — instead, his shoulders slump, the hardened expression on his face only slightly loosening as he sighs deeply from his nose.
after a moment of being still in focused silence, he finally responds, though not audibly at first, instead merely lifting his foot to nudge it firm against her leg, forcibly pushing her foot forward before lightly nudging the back of her knee with the same foot to urge it to bend. ]
Fix your stance. Loosen up the upper body, keep it firm on your toes.
no subject
The cigarette is held back out for him to take, since obviously she can't get much done holding onto it. She tries to correct her stance as he's so politely nudged her into, bending forward at the knee and hopefully keeping her upper body loose enough.]
You could try using your hands next time.
[No matter what's happened between them, she's still the same bossy woman as ever. And it doesn't feel like there's effort there for her in this conversation. She's not as worried about saying the wrong thing as she had been their last time speaking. Somehow she feels free to simply be herself.
It's with her newfound confidence that she takes aim once again and shoots, managing to graze one of the glass jars. It doesn't shatter but does crack, putting a smile on her face. Only Clara Oswald would be delighted that she's barely managed to hit a target.
Of course, now that she's managed to make slight impact, she's eager to try again. She's determined to actually shatter something to show him she's not completely hopeless.
Think loose, Clara. Think loose.
She realizes a moment too late she's actually just said those words out loud.]
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when she offers the cigarette back, he doesn't hesitate to pluck it out from her fingers, putting it back in his own mouth with a shameless squint. ]
You're too short. This keeps me from bending down.
[ and also allows him to make use of his asshole commentary. best way to give a lesson anyway. keeps the student from getting too comfortable. no one should feel comfortable when shooting a gun.
but when he watches her take another shot, he does feel a bit proud of her for the quick improvement, even if he doesn't show it in more than a nod of acknowledgement, already expecting her to make another attempt, until she seems to mutter her process out loud.
he sighs with a raised brow as he takes a long drag of his cigarette. ]
Don't overthink it.
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[She grumbles as she's left being the one that's pouting. How dare he mention her height like it's a problem when she's exactly the perfect height. There's a huff as she tries to refocus her efforts.]
But if you kick me again, I'm shooting you in the foot.
[Of course he didn't actually kick her as much as just...firmly put her in place using his feet. And she wouldn't actually shoot him. But it's just some playful banter said ever so sweetly to fire off as she gets into position and pulls the trigger. This time she manages to actually hit the glass bottle, shattering it in the process.
Her face lights up with a smile as she gives the smallest jump of excitement.]
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[ once again, he jokes about ryker's sleeve like he can just exchange it at any time, even if the truth is that a) he's not sure that he has a source for a different sleeve either here on this planet or even on the ximilia and b) he promised ortega he'd actually look after it, so allowing too much damage is probably a bad idea.
but staying in place and keeping his mouth shut for a moment, cigarette hanging from his fingers as he watches her take her next shot — and gives a minor smile when she shatters the bottle. ]
Good job.
[ an actual compliment. ]
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But she is proud. And because of that, she gently sets the gun down and hurries over to embrace him in a quick hug. But then she stops short right before actually doing it, arms flopping down to her side. He doesn't want to hug her, she remembers. They've come this far. She can't ruin it with a hug.]
Thank you. For teaching me.
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giving a slight rub of his fingers against his neck, he sighs, putting his cigarette to his lips, talking with it hanging there. ]
I'm gonna head back. Don't ... stay out too late practicing, alright?
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I'll try not to.
[She promises, before motioning for him to head back. She'll be fine out here. He doesn't have to worry.]
See you around, Takeshi.