epidemiology | you finally calm my head at night

(they've been back in oska for some time now. a week, more, how many days escapes him when he was so good at keeping updates of the gregorian calendar for reference, but — space travel can mould days into the head of a needle you can't quite fucking thread. and hiruma's thrown himself into a physical way to cope.

with what? he tries not to think about it, letting each kickback of his assault rifle meet an accommodating grip before turning and marching militantly on the next target.)

UPLOADING PERSONNEL PROFILE... UPDATING REGISTERED STATISTICS... GENERATING SCORE... ROUND 2 TARGET ACCURACY: 9/10 TARGET PRECISION: 8/10 TARGETS ELIMINATED: 11/15 PROCEED? STATE "YES" OR "NO" IN PROGRAMMED LANGUAGE...

(tugging up the hem of his shirt, he paws the sweat away from his face and breathes a sharp reply.)

No. Run it again.

SUGGESTING COOLDOWN... BIOMETRICS INCOMPATIBLE WITH REPLAY...

Run it again!

SUGGESTING COOLDOWN... BIOMETRICS INCOMPATIBLE WITH REPLAY... SUGGESTING COOLDOWN... BIOMETRICS INCOMPATIBLE WITH REPLAY... SUGGESTING—

(a slam of a booted heel into the small terminal leaves him with a shuddering hologram of the target range requested and a handful of fingers hurriedly combing back spikes of styleless blond. then the image scatters, the dome of the training room sobering him, shoulders sinking out of their irritable hitch as eyes find the too-empty room. after, the exit sign. it gives him a stupid idea, but there's no harm in a little "ask and you shall receive", making him jerk towards the door, shoving it open...

and accosting the first person that walks down the hall, breathless and pointing back to the training deck.)

Yo, I need you to do something for me. C'mere for a sec, would ya?

[ Koltira does make use of the simulations from time to time. The battles are not satisfying: there's no true pain, no real blood. But it's practice, and it keeps him busy. Something mindless to do when he has no other work to occupy his hands.

But he's flagged down before he even turns into the training room, called to by someone he doesn't know very well. An excitable--human?

(The ears are strangely pointed, but he's no elf, Koltira can tell that much for sure.)

Koltira's wearing his recently repaired armor--all black dreadplate and skulls with glowing eyes--and it clinks together softly as he pauses, frowning. ]

What do you need?

(ah, the guy from the network times. hiruma sizes him up with a scan of a look, momentarily taken aback by the bulk of the armour sitting against koltira's chest. well, that's not something you see outside of a larp group or convention.

the ears remind him of his own, but, really, this isn't a big concern.)

The program's kicked me out. I need to get back in and you're gonna activate it for me. C'mon.

(turning on his heel sharply, walking deeper into the training room.)

[ Koltira doesn't much like being commanded, especially not by a skinny human stranger, but he was already going that way. So he scowls, but otherwise lets the tone slide. He follows along. ]

Why did it kick you out? I have never known it to do such a thing.

[ But Koltira does not have vitals to be monitored. His body cannot tire, and it cannot signal exhaustion to anyone else, either. ]

(a glance over his shoulder is enough to convey his meaning, but he'll elaborate when his heart-rate settles.)

You're dead. (simple, straightforward, and blunt.) I'm alive.

(that network post long past told him as much, as did skimming responses. true revivals and reassurances that they will never end up like him. for a moment, hiruma wonders at whether he and asher could have saved the two bandits who met a scrappy end in the dirt, if only they'd consulted deathweaver, but... they say hindsight's 20/20 and his mind was too addled to think.

when both of them have entered the chamber, the computer prompts them a final time:)

SUGGESTING COOLDOWN... BIOMETRICS INCOMPATIBLE WITH— ADDITIONAL PERSONNEL DETECTED... ADAPTING TRAINING ENVIRONMENT FOR CO-OPERATIVE PROGRAM... PROCEED? STATE "YES" OR "NO" IN PROGRAMMED LANGUAGE...

(co-op...?

hiruma stops short and takes another look at koltira, the sheer size of him in comparison, the hulking armour, no doubt countless years of experience with god knows what kinds of weapons. exhaustion makes him hesitate, but his eyes stopped caring hours ago. it's doubtful the man could get any kind of productive training done, but—)

It might average out our skill level. Which would probably be a walk in the park for you.

(and a fresh hell for him, but he's pretty used to failure.)

[ Koltira's not bothered by the direct statement. If anything, he wishes more people in Audentes were as forward. It makes things simpler.

He wonders how far this human (because Koltira has concluded that Hiruma is indeed human, despite the ears) plans to push himself. He supposes it's no business of his if the boy collapses; they have medics on hand, and he doubts the simulation would let anyone actually die.

(But he had a fix for that, too, in the worst case scenario.)

Koltira draws Byfrost from his back, shrugging. ]

All training is useful.

[ As their scenery shifts and the simulation populates, Koltira's ears perk forward. Any enemies they encounter may be trivial to him, but protecting someone with less experience offered a challenge, too. He would take it. ]

Your heartbeat is already a drum in my ears, human. Take care.

(if being forward is simpler, koltira will never want for anything around hiruma. bluntness embodied, standing a short distance away.

the statement has him moving to adjust to the scenery, unfamiliar with this one — and perhaps it's an amalgam of their experiences so far, eyes narrowing at the odd mash-up of peridition's rest blanketed in a thin layer of nighttime snow and the weaving now-dead forests of a past mission... at the centre, a small building with oska architecture. their objective appears in a HUD-like start screen: a run-of-the-mill capture the flag directive.

except the flag is a squidge egg, something he's never encountered before.)

I've pushed myself far harder than this, you fucking glowstick. Don't get all worried about me. (despite his phrasing, he's made it somewhat amicable, hand out for a hard-light gun to materialize in his hand; it's as heavy as the real thing.) I'll scout out a way in. That makes you the big guns.

(starting forward, low, eyes and ears peeled.)

[ WELL THERE'S FORWARD AND THEN THERE'S DISRESPECT, YOUNG MAN

Fortunately, Koltira's accustomed to the monumental lack of decorum on this team. Though it rankles him, he only shows it via a slight, irritated flick of his ears. The squidge egg is familiar to him, of course, but the rest of the simulation strikes him as odd.

He mutters to himself as Hiruma goes ahead. ]

Do we face Taraxa? Dragons? Faeries, perhaps ...

[ The latter would be simple enough. His own senses are acute beyond human standards--the long ears aren't for nothing. Even as Hiruma scouts, Koltira looks 'round, trying to discern what obstacles lay before them. He draws Byfrost, restless til he hears something--multiple somethings--crunching in the snow. ]

(no subject)

slushfund - 2017-02-02 11:20 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

respired - 2017-02-15 20:44 (UTC) - Expand

[All this downtime-- it doesn't suit him. Seconds minutes hours tick by and he doesn't know how to fill them, takes to prowling and pacing and idly wandering just to give himself something to do. Even the missions with all their alien strangeness are an improvement on this-- at least there's some sense of direction to them, a goal to work towards. All this emptiness, it gives him too much time to think.

And so when Hiruma - sweat-slicked, breathless - suddenly pushes through the door as he's skulking by, it just so happens that he's doing nothing of note. Still, he looks up, expression blank and impassive save for the thin blond brow he raises above the rim of his glasses. He makes no immediate move to comply, but he isn't walking away either.]

What do you want?

I want your vital signs. (uh...) Come on.

(turning sharply, leaving him alone in the doorway. curiosity peaked enough to follow? he'll find hiruma waiting by the terminal with unsteady breaths, waving to the room.)

[Well that's...something new, at any rate. First impressions may lead one to believe that Giovanni won't comply, standing there as he does, staring afer Hiruma with a distinctly dubious expression on his face. But he is a little curious, and more than that, he's bored, and so eventually the stillness falls away and he follows after him, moves over to the indicated room.]

Now there's a proposition one doesn't hear every day.

[And he flashes him a sharp - if still somewhat uncertain - smile.]

(dubious or not, presenting it like this always baits certain fish — but he's not even trying, today. he just needs this damn machine to let him work.)

Nothin' fancy. (comes the warning, chin tipping a fraction higher,) You're in good condition right now. I'm healing and I've already exhausted myself, so I'm using you to switch the training sequence back on.

(a glance at the terminal, then back.) Join or not, I don't give a shit once you've activated it.

Are you, now.

[Giovanni barks out a laugh-- it's said with so much certainty 'I'm using you', that he can't help but find it funny. Funny or not, though, it seems a small thing to ask for. Something to which he can oblige.

And whilst he's here...why not? A little training might beat the aimless wandering he'd been engaged in until now. He moves closer.]

But go on, then. If you want to drop dead from exhaustion I suppose it's no concern of mine.

No, it ain't. (sure as hell not, his body's condition is his own to worry over.

this guy looks pretty amused, though, something hiruma shrugs off in favour of motioning broadly to it—)

Be my guest. It's you who has to activate it. It's gonna try to recalibrate for the both of us, so I guess we'll see how fucking prepared we are for that.

(no subject)

ofobedience - 2017-02-07 11:18 (UTC) - Expand

[ Ramir has been having a good week, a few hiccups aside. It's always nice to be in Oska. The free food, the plentiful drink, the comfortable bed, the hot springs... She spends her time sober as rarely as possible, and today is not an exception.

It takes her a few seconds longer than usual to realize Hiruma is talking to her (so what if the hall is otherwise empty), and when she does she offers him a cheerful smile as she bobs to a stop. It's that guy. She likes his hair. She'd wave, but one hand is busy with a bottle and the other is in her pocket, so... next time, maybe. ]

Why? [ and immediately hopeful: ] S'it involve mistletoe?

(eyeing her somewhat critically, recognizing a drunk woman when he sees one. ramir's fucking sloshed and— mistletoe? is that a proposition? hiruma snorts a laugh, disinterest palpable... he knows the sandworm times were fun and they stayed up until odd hours of the morning trying to destroy things together, but it was a one time thing.

it's not her, it's him.)

No, sorry to burst your bubble but you couldn't handle me. (beckoning her with a nod and a turn, shoulders rising and falling in time with quick breaths.) Follow me, I've got a job for you.

Whoa, hey, I could handle anyone even before the superpowers.

[ Not that she looks at all offended. Fine, not mistletoe, it's gotta be something interesting. She trots to catch up, stashing the bottle in a jacket pocket. For now. ]

What'd you do anyway, just run a marathon? Prolonged sex? Shit, what's that thing called... you know, when you just go for fuckin' ever, what's that?

How the fuck should I know? Multiple orgasm?

(an amused huff that doesn't reach its full potential or bloom into another laugh; he's much too tired. that, however, doesn't mean he can't keep going.) I've been doing drills, but just let your imagination run wild. It's more entertaining that way.

(it takes him a moment to realize his first mistake: ramir is too drunk. the moment she steps into the training room, the voice repeats itself over the comm.) SUGGESTING COOLDOWN... BIOMETRICS INCOMPATIBLE WITH REPLAY... (hiruma's head drops back for a gravelly sigh.)

Fuck. I was gonna use you to restart the sim, but you're piss loaded and I'm — like this.

[ She wanders contentedly after Hiruma, half listening, then snaps her fingers. ]

Tantric sex. [ Wait. What were they talking about? That thread of conversation is so, so gone. So instead she gives up on it, blinks, and with some effort focuses on the actual issue at hand. ]

Oh, you wanna keep killing yourself? Sure, just give it like ten minutes, I'll be done being drunk. Or... [ Her unsteady wander changes direction, taking her toward the main access panel of the training room. She fishes through her pockets as she goes, and comes up empty handed. ] Got a knife?

What are you fuckin' going on about? Tantric sex? I don't have any of that. (is he ready for that conversation, tired and pumped full of adrenaline as he is... not at all.) Just focus on the task at hand...

(okay, so he's inexperienced. sue him. there are more important things to take care of (jesus christ).)

I don't have a knife, so either I calm down and you sober up or we find another way around this.

(no subject)

heavyhitter - 2017-01-19 22:57 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

slushfund - 2017-02-02 11:00 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

heavyhitter - 2017-02-03 08:05 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

slushfund - 2017-02-11 19:34 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

heavyhitter - 2017-02-11 19:40 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

slushfund - 2017-02-11 22:04 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

heavyhitter - 2017-02-11 22:19 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

slushfund - 2017-02-11 22:27 (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

heavyhitter - 2017-02-11 22:34 (UTC) - Expand

[For as much as he grumbles about how low-tech this castle is, Kagari does dig the VR room. Back home, Enforcers are allowed to use the internet, but not in a way that supports anonymity, which leaves things like Commu-Fields right out. The only kinds of VR he gets to participate in are typically self-contained, for that reason, like when he plays in virtual sparring with Kou-chan.

...Speaking of which. When Hiruma beckons him in the hall, Kagari actually pauses for a second, looking at the stranger in a way that doesn't dare to condescend with concern, but might be a little like understanding. He knows that look, after all. He's seen it in the older Enforcer's eyes so many times, that glassy yet intense look when his body is worn out but he can't stop going lest his mind rip itself apart. Kagari can't claim to know the specific demons that haunt Kou-chan, only knows the barest outline of what happened to make him a latent criminal in the first place. It's like that, with the Enforcers in Division One. An unspoken code of sorts between them, a mutual understanding that things are shit and they're fucked up, and nothing more need be said about it. It's not like talking would make them any less fucked, anyway.

So he does the only thing he knows how to do. Puts on a smirk, lets a challenging twinkle enter his eyes.]

I dunno. You're looking a bit worn out there, bro. Sure you can keep up?

I dunno, sure you can keep your fucking mouth shut long enough to stay in the lead?

(if there's one thing hiruma's sure of, it's his willpower — and overriding exhaustion is something he has an immense amount of skill in. so it's a damn good thing kagari isn't pitying him, telling him to quit, or putting a damper on his desperate need to distract himself, because he's had it with the weakness he's been showing. and this is the first step to overcoming that. by force.

sweating out troubles is a stubborn man's way of coping.

he's run for longer, trained harder, and worked himself to the bone; this is nothing to him. "a bit worn out" is a high compliment and hiruma's own smirk twists into something crooked, one step away from appreciative, feeling a little looser with the emotion shown on his face thanks to how tired he is.)

I've been doin' drills, but do ya want the fun part of choosin' our program? (motioning wholeheartedly to the terminal.)

Actually, I can do own all sorts of shit while I'm shooting off my mouth like a moron. It's a gift, what can I say.

[He shrugs, cavalier.]

Sure, I'll pick our poison for us.

[He steps up to the machine, his own resting vitals registering as fit for using the training software. He scrolls around, and ultimately decides on the Chantes mission--the harder setting, of course.]

Get in loser, we're going demon hunting.

[Best way to start this off is with a hundred year old reference to the immortal Regina George rite. I'm assuming Kagari knows the whole movie tbh because fight me.]

Edited (different emphasis) 2017-01-22 13:15 (UTC)

[Someone's in his face. He starts back immediately, even though the guy's not touching him, not grabbing or hurting him; it's instinct to fight, freeze, or flee, to be skittish and wary. But this one--oh. Giorno remembers him.]

[. . . Is this right? He tips his head curiously to one side and reaches out unseen with Gold Experience. Blood moving too fast through his veins, breath too quick. And drenched in sweat, not that Giorno needed Gold Experience to notice that. His lips press together.]

Depends on what it is, doesn't it?

(a crooked smile for giorno, remembering those great sandworm times. ah, man, what a crazy plan he can take to the grave with him.)

I don't bite hard, Blondie, (hiruma, you're blond...) it's just a training simulator I need on. It keeps shutting off, for obvious reasons, but it doesn't believe I'm capable of pushing myself.

(opening his arms to him, chest heaving,) So? Wanna help a fucker out?