(no subject)

[warandpeace]

Who: Kazuhira Miller | Various
When: Month of October
Where: Moira | The Mini Colony
What: Various
Warnings: slavery, references to past pet death

Open | Mini Colony

Closed to Venom Snake | Training Sim

Closed to Harry Hart | Harry's Workshop

Comments

[warandpeace]

☄ Open | Mini Colony

[Miller's stubbornness is a double edged sword, finally sharpened and needs to be wielded by a determined soul rather than left unchecked. There's a lot of violence in this man that this stubbornness can support, anger and dogged determination, sadness that erupts from the taskmaster as an endless font of effort.]

[He takes risks he shouldn't because he still feels the burning in his back even with the scars gone. He runs trainees ragged and helps them back to their feet when he's done content with the knowledge he's leaving people that will never be pushed under bootheels. He questions captured traffickers with the viciousness of a man that refuses to be left without answers. He lacks the kind coaxing of Revolver Ocelot, or gentle persuasion of his Boss's personality. He's raw and furious.]

[It works well enough.]

[But once the first part of his campaign is done, when people have helped free slaves, brought them information on the tunnels, offered their hard work? He can't tell whether or not he feels fulfilled or not. It's not exactly emptiness that follows this time. There's genuine gratitude coming towards the people that helped them. He's thanked by young women who were committed to labor that would have surely been the death of them. He's hugged by a stranger that's so excited to be free he picks Miller up in his eagerness (much to his initial annoyance).]

[Later he's standing at the edge of the camp, littered with white tents, now with trained guards and volunteers passing out resources for people needing to adjust to their freedoms.]

[Kaz smears his hands down his scruff and watches the activity, distantly, barely visible eyes confused behind his glasses. He guesses he's going to have to find something else to do.] Are you headed back to the ship or somewhere out in the city? [He asks the nearest person he recognizes with an MID.] Want some company? [Because he's not needed here anymore.]

[dancingblade]

Kazuhira Miller.

[Fi flutters quietly next to the man, face as serene as ever. She's been keeping track of what's been happening on the colony though she wasn't following it with quite the level of zeal that others had. There are plenty of people who were capable combatants though and her assistance was unnecessary (these sorts of disputes were not the circumstances that required the Master Sword's power).

But Miller seems different from how he normally is. Has her Master's-- Has Link's absence affected him?]

It seems you have been keeping yourself occupied during our stay here in the colony. Your work ethic is commendable in it's efficiency, yet you appear unsatisfied with the results. Is there something wrong?

[warandpeace]

[It's been a little while since he's seen her, and he's pleased to see her again. There's an idealism he can't shake. That sort of admiration that comes with a man enamored with old battles and Samurai, who appreciates a sword with a genuine spirit. That's what she is.]

[It's humbling to be caught looking so uncertain by a noble spirit.]

I'm not sure. It's complicated. [What emotions aren't. He'll figure it out. Probably.]

[He approaches Fi, but isn't really sure how close he'd be allowed to get. He's been under the impression she's a holy relic of sorts.] Did Link talk to you before he left?

[Link's absence has affected him, but not entirely negatively. He doesn't want him to go through the nonsense the ship had been impressing on him, the helplessness. Somehow he thinks that, with the people he's with, he'll be doing a lot better than he would on this vessel.]

[dancingblade]

[she tilts her head slightly. Indicating that she was paying attention, maybe, so that Miller wouldn't be as unsettled speaking with a spirit that could not emote the way that normal humans (or other creatures, if she was honest) did. It isn't as if she can necessarily disagree with Miller about the difficulty of understand one's own emotions but she couldn't exactly agree either... She still lacks the data to draw satisfactory conclusions.

When Miller steps closer, she doesn't move from where she floats, head turning to remain focused on the man]

... He did. The Hero has gone through many partings and so his decision to leave aboard that solo vessel is acceptable. He should do what he feels is best, now that he has fulfilled his duty. Likewise, I, too, will have to depart in time, to return to the eternal sleep that Her Grace has prepared for me as the Blade of Evil's Bane.

[well, he's not wrong about her being something of a holy relic...]

[warandpeace]

[Talking to a holy relic sometimes took a bit of adjustment...]

Does it bother you? [He looked back to some of the slaves being reunited with cage mates, and wondered about those bonds. Remembered his failed attempts to release another captive despite being drugged.]

I guess you don't have any reason for your faith to be shaken up.

[She'll always know her cause is just, her path is correct. It's what she is. Her mast wields her, and she is his weapon and has to have faith in him and the reasons she's used. At least that seemed to be the case, though Link's own resolve had been called into question.]

[dancingblade]

[she looks at Miller and cants her head at the question]

I do not understand. I am a servant to Her Grace, created to be the guide for the Hero. There is no other task assigned to me, save for the one that the Captains of the Moira has given me. Recent events do not change that.

The contract between the Hero and I has been dissolved. I cannot remain at his side forever.

[She knows that she must remain at the Shrine to seal away evil and that Link will go on and live his life. That was for the best and as Zelda wished it]

Link has asked me to keep an eye on you. I am uncertain as to the scope of that request, but I have been watching since we arrived here in the Colony. You've done admirable work - [she turns to look at the now freed slave before turning back to Miller] - Yet you seem unsatisfied.

What did you seek when you set out on this path?

[justice_from_above]

[Pharah's been helping out wherever she's needed; pulling on her own training and military experiences. She watches Miller as they work, and can appreciate the thoroughness he brings to the operation. It may be rough, but in a situation like this? It's needed.]

[She herself is feeling proud of what everyone has been able to accomplish, taking a look over everything before turning to head out for the night. When Miller approaches her, she offers him a small smile and nods.]

The city, just a walk for fresh air and maybe something to eat. You are more than welcome to join me.

[warandpeace]

[He's not short on command and training experience, though he wonders if the intensity of his last nine years, the dedication to his base and to revenge, have robbed him of much of his ability to casually relate to other people. Ironically he's glad as hell for someone to shot up that he can talk work with.]

I've actually only seen most of the city through the materials I've been given. [The maps. The lists of safe businesses. The dangerous districts.] I think I'd like to actually get out into it. [He smooths some of his hair behind his ear before he goes over to join her.] Good work, by the way. What training did you receive?

[She was very impressive. He'd love to get her into the Training Sim Room for a real evaluation against the generated enemies. There was some A++ grade potential with a few of her statistics.]

[justice_from_above]

I was a member of the Egyptian army, discharged with honors. Before that ... [It's complicated doesn't seem to cover it.] Let's just say a large part of my childhood revolved around similar minded people; I had a lot of training in personal defence and martial arts when I was young.

[And part of the reason she was so good had to do with how deeply ingrained those lessons had been - how much a part of her they were. Career military wouldn't have touched the surface; everything she is is focused into that training.]

I am just glad I am able to help. Admittedly, I have not seen much of the city either, but I don't think I would have been able to enjoy it knowing so many people suffered in its walls.

[warandpeace]

Too much of their economy depended on slavery. The legal structure here doesn't give them much of a chance for absolute establishment of freedom. All they can do now is try to shift their capitalism to favor the businesses that offer gainful employment with benefits for their workers.

[He doubts it'll be anything easy for them to achieve. But he pulls up a list on his MID to show her.]

These are the places that never supported slavery, by the way, if you'd want to visit one of those. It might make the chance for a meal a little less uncomfortable. [And then he could ask the extent of her military experiences. He's a little concerned about the statement about her youth, but then again he's had thoroughly disheartening experiences with child soldiers and wanting something better for them.]

[justice_from_above]

[Even if they do all they can, they're still much to do for the existing population, and Pharah could only hope that they were able to continue what was started.]

[She looks over the list Miller presents; she'd seen it before, and nods.]

Yes, I am all for any help we can give these establishments, let alone how much more palatable it will make the meal.

[He'll be happy to know she wasn't a child soldier; just a child of one who passed on her skills and teachings to an eager mind (much to her chagrin, later). It will make for interesting conversation if he can get it out of her).]

[liberaltus]

[Dorian's quite glad it's over, actually, even though he's played a productive part in helping the cause, even though some things weren't entirely savory. That murder room, or whatever the hell it was, went entirely against his colors, it was almost difficult maintaining his glorious sense of humor in the face of all that blood, all of those emaciated bodies.

He's seen worse, of course, doesn't make it pleasant.

He didn't quite prize his role as a master, either, his growing distaste for slavery was a surprise, even to himself. He'd so long rationalized it as being okay as long as you were good to those who served you. And if those who served you sold themselves to escape poverty then it was different, but they teach you how to normalize and compartmentalize in places where slavery is rampant.

As an intellectual even Dorian could not rationalize this forever. Just one more reason to be disappointed in his homeland, he wish he didn't need another. The disappointment was also in himself, but Dorian could change who he was.

What was difficult was the effect on Kazuhira. The mage hadn't been far away, he didn't want to become too involved. This was thanks to Kazuhira after all, and so much comradery and hugging made Dorian nervous. He'd rather keep clear of affection that was foreign to him, observe it at a distance...and it was rather endearing...but after a time Kazuhira seems a little less romantic and more longing.

Like all of it had ended much too soon for him.

What a tragic figure he cut on the edge of camp and Dorian couldn't resist joining him.]

Your company is always a welcome addition with me, you must know this. [Dorian simply smiled and offered his arm, as is tradition now.] You've inspired me with your antics, you know. You should come back to Tevinter with me, beat my country men into submission. That would be something to see.

[warandpeace]

Training revolutionaries has been a specialty of mine for almost half my life. I saw the opportunity and fell back into it. [He doesn't know that he would have been so eager to help them if he hadn't been sold as a slave on the colony. That doesn't make him feel guilty as much as it should, but it does make him give even further consideration to how fare his morals have slipped. As if there aren't a million other reminders.]

[That he actually expected the results to be superficially pleasant, and instead there were notes of genuine satisfaction, is genuinely disorienting.]

[He'll think through it later. He turns and snags Dorian's offered arm in a loose grip.]

But I think right now I just want to see some of the city. I heard a lot more about it and saw reports than I actually had any experience with it. [Ironically his first adventure on the battlefield. In a jungle a universe away, he worked off a lot of theory, but little practice. It was almost the death of him, and was the death of many other people. Here it seems to have worked out, but he has a lot more resources and help than he did then.]

[liberaltus]

Well you do it so well, I would almost think that you were enjoying yourself. [Almost, but now the revolution is in the hands of the revolutionaries that he'd trained and somehow Kazuhira seems different for it all. The mage cannot put his finger on what is happening inside of the other man, but a part of him wanted to take care of this is some way.

Soldiers, warriors, natural fighters...they were ever a mystery in Dorian's mind. Most of them seem wracked with responsibility, duty, guilt...and others seemed to be desensitized to the world around them. They all seemed to push themselves forward into some sort of never ending cycle that they were familiar with, comfortable with. Or perhaps he's just imagining things.

Regardless, he links arms with Kazuhira and begins to walk him away from the camp, a bit of quality time would be good for the both of them.]

It is good to experience the things you are trying to protect, help, or improve...gives a sense of appreciation, they say. We can talk about what happened, if you like [Dorian turn and offers a grin that's both teasing and playful, not that he wouldn't talk about it if there was anything residual to get off Kazuhira's back. He's just as happy exploring the streets and taking it easy for a while, getting a proper meal while they're here.] or anything you want, for that matter, I'm feeling flexible this evening. I never properly thanked you for cooking a meal for me...and you did want to know how it went with the slavers, yes?

[warandpeace]

I was. I was enjoying myself. [He felt right. He'd felt in place, doing what it was that he'd went out into the world to do. In the beginning, before Big Boss, before he ended up losing sight of who he was.]

[But then the enjoyment dwindled and he just wasn't sure anymore.]

It's fine. It'll be fine. [He doesn't know if it's right to say "I just helped feul a slavery liberation movement and I don't know if I feel good about it or not." But even without him saying so, it's probably obvious.]

You don't need to thank me for that. [That trail of crumbs is quickly followed.] It was a favor to us both. I like to cook. Though maybe I should have properly warned you of the cuisine. [And he does get a lot of enjoyment of watching someone of noble bearing fumble over a very domestic food. It's infinitely charming, even if Dorian had no way to experience it or anything like it before] If I ever cook for you again, it will be something more manageable for you, from my home probably.

[Having dispensed orders and ran his mouth and shouted speeches for several days, he just lets Dorian take the lead. It's a strange sort of break.]

[warandpeace]

☄ Closed to Venom Snake | Training Sim

[Once he's been settled on the ship for a little bit most of the agitation is finally soothed out of his system by easy tasks he can fall into. Cleaning his room. Paperwork. Considering what weapons might be needed for the ship. Attempting to write a song and tearing up every attempt (not out of anger, but rather that he's gotten rusty). Eventually he just goes to the Training Sim room and, of all the damn things, summons up a table and two stools. Just those things. Otherwise the room remains tragically plain.]

[He goes to Snake, asks to borrow DD. He takes Mama and DD back to the training sim room, and spends the next couple of hours teaching them a very basic command. Then he calls Venom in himself.]

[That's how he'll find him, a real plastic cup of water sitting on an artificially generated table. He's sitting there eagerly, ignoring the two dogs. DD sitting dutifully, Mama laying slumped on her side looking as lazy as possible.]

I've been practicing. [He announces cryptically.] Have a seat.

[Sometimes that determination requires a little bit of conniving.]

[alterplex]

[ With the fishpeople debacle mostly out of the way, what follows is the usual litany of chores and aftercare, the allotment of personnel and the process of determining who seems fit to clean up after the wasteland that the now-razed kidnapping operation'd left behind. It's a familiar grind, and Venom adjusts to it with a curious sense of comfort. As much as he understands that he's not just an automaton, there's something appealing about shutting off unnecessary functions to concentrate on the task at hand.

He comes back to the Moira shrouded in a satisfying fatigue, and doesn't think much of why Kaz would need to borrow DD (he knows the company helps his XO, as much as Kaz is loathe to admit it). The grime from spending a prolonged amount of time in the company of the ill is washed away in the shower, and Venom enjoys, for the first time in a bit, the relative quiet of an empty room with nothing but his cassettes to keep him grounded.

Venom floats through the first few repetitions of The Man Who Sold the World, then comes back down to reality when Kaz calls him over the MID again.

This longwinded preamble is just a setup to say that, yes, Venom looks fairly relaxed when he strides into the training room, package in tow that he'd picked up right as he was leaving his room to meet his friend here. There's something profoundly funny about being called into an artificial room with just a table and two dogs, as if Kaz has called Venom in for an interview, but Venom doesn't react much to it aside from a faint quirk of his lips while he pulls out his chair to settle on. ]

I can see that. [ The blood-red bionic lifts up, indicating that Kaz wait a moment before he presses on to the matter at hand. ] I've got something for you, first.

[warandpeace]

[Kaz sits up a little straighter in the chair, making a soft noise of question (barely there) but not saying anything. Just making room on the table for whatever Snake was about to give him.]

[Please don't let it be a dead dog.]

How did it go? [He might as well ask. It's odd for him not to be there for a mission's success. There's an oddly absent feeling that comes with that, their usual involvement practically reduced to "how was your day at work, dear?" A hard dynamic to adjust to. But he would make due.]

[alterplex]

It wasn't conventional.

[ Understatement. He follows that up with a brief: ] But we got the job done. [ Which is the most he can say about it, and the most he can hope for— that things are done and will remain over with, that their largely civil intervention was enough of a deterrence.

It's strange, on his own part, that he's done something without Kaz's guiding hand, but there are bound to be discrepancies in routine. Expecting Kaz to consistently provide him with radio assistance the way things were on Mother Base would be ludicrous, not to mention far too much for his XO to handle.

He fixes Kaz with one of his mile-long looks, one that palely attempts to gauge a reaction or an expression, before setting his package on the table: Kaz's old kiseru, nestled in paper wrapping. ]

[warandpeace]

[He had sent yet another Snake on a task in his case, with that sudden revolutionary movement he threw himself at. There was a lot of voluntary assistance besides David. It is strange, not immediately asking for Venom's help. But he's gotten used to getting along better with Ocelot (even with current discomfort, it's still "better"). Snake working independently is something he can get used to, as well.]

[Even if it's slightly discordant. If the course of history kept as it was anyway, he'd have lost Miller's aid anyway.]

[Rather than linger on that thought, his mind register's what's been presented on the table. His kiseru. Something he hadn't had on him when he ended up here, nor something he replace. He didn't use it as much anymore on the Diamond Dogs' base as a matter of convenience so he'd not thought of it. But now he had the ease of use that came with two hands, and just having it was a nice note of normalcy in a place that was so excruciatingly abnormal that adjustment was a constant battle.]

[He gives V a tightlipped, polite and curt smile, a nod of gratitude to go with it.] Thank you.

[He almost feels bad about what he's going to do as he puts it in his overcoat pocket, lovingly wrapped in that paper to protect it.] What happened to the test subjects? Have a seat. [Kaz's already tugging off his gloves to get ready.]

[warandpeace]

☄ Closed to Harry Hart | Harry's Workshop

[Mail call usually results in something interesting, even if he didn't particularly order anything. Something might show up. It does this time, too. Though not a package labelled for him.]

[There's no name on the box when he opens it up, but there's a tag gently tied to the collar of the item inside, string leading to a thick paper label saying Harry Hart in lovely calligraphy.]

[Kaz stands there for three minutes in the Cargo Bay, his lips thinned into a straight line, not sure of what this is or why this is or why it's in his mail. But here it is. Something meant for his friend, not for him. And he just cannot fathom a reason at the moment why said friend would be in need of this particular thing.]

[There is a terrier, stuffed and mounted, labelled for his friend.]

[With the morbid reverence one would have for the body of an innocent person, Kaz removes his jacket and wraps the dog with it before removing it from the box it came in. He carries it to the lift, stands with it awkwardly on the lift, passes people down a corridor without so much as looking at them as he carries this strange corpse.]

[Then he stops in front of Harry's door, and knocks with his foot. Yes. He's arrived with Mr. Pickle. This is a man that's been assaulted by parasitic assassination units, that's been attacked by giant robots, that's formed his own armies, that's had to deal with the surgically altered body double of his business partner, and it's moments like this that make him truly feel as though he's lost control of his life. Delivering dead dogs to super spies.]

[wordstoliveby]

[ Harry's day, overall has been rather pleasant. He's gotten his work space into a satisfying arrangement that will last until the next deluge of people in need of clothing turns up on his doorstep. He probably wouldn't be in such a pleasant mood if he knew just what was coming his way.

If he knew he'd probably lock his door and try to figure out why the universe decided to do this to him now. Or why Kazuhira ended up witnessing him at his worst more often than not.

As it is, he answers the door and smiles at Kaz. ]

Oh, hello, Kazuhira. If I'd known you were coming by I would have put on a pot of tea.

[warandpeace]

[The greeting he gets isn't verbal, but a profoundly long, analyzing stare. A squint from behind tinted lenses. And then Kaz held out his jacket, delivering it formally into Harry's hands.]

I was hoping that this wasn't a gift. It didn't seem like your sense of humor. It came in the mail.

[Obviously being that the coat is a gift from Harry specifically, it must be the item in the coat.]

[wordstoliveby]

[ Faintly bemused, Harry takes the wrapped parcel and tugs aside the jacket to look at what mistakenly ended up in Kazuhira's possession. And you can tell the very moment he's looking at Mr. Pickle.

Mostly because his entire expression drops. ]

Fuck.

[ And since it's such a good expression of everything he's feeling right now he says it again. For a man whose entire life is based on being able to explain away everything he's a bit at a loss right now. ]

...There is a reasonable explanation behind this. [ Probably. ]

[warandpeace]

[How could this explanation possibly be reasonable?]

[He's approved not only the creation of cardboard tanks but chicken hats and bismuth pink Love Boxes as actual functioning infiltration devices, and in the process he's been given many a "reasonable explanation". He's also been in the employ of but respected a man that believed Santa Claus was real and vampires were a threat in his universe and watched his current CO ride into battle on Johnny Five re-imagined as a T-Rex, and thanks to that he hasn't believed a single one of them.]

[But Kaz is standing there, waiting for it. Or waiting for the door to be gently closed in his face because it looks very possible that Harry might pull out one of the active camo devices and disappear and flee.]

[Regardless, Miller is curious enough that he wants to hear what the story behind this might be.] Should I come in?