thisavrou_log | Closed Log: wtf boss wtf

Entry tags:

metal gear: kazuhira miller

Closed Log: wtf boss wtf

Who: Ocelot, Big Boss, Kaz Miller
When: 6/7-ish
Where: Training simulation room
What: Ocelot sets up a training scenario for Big Boss. Things don't go as planned.
Warnings: Violence, death, MGS stuff

[Training time was scheduled in the simulation room for Big Boss. Ocelot said he wanted to test the man. See if he was still up to snuff. Miller was invited of course to regulate the environment as needed from the control room.

At the appointed time, Ocelot met them there and walked into the room, which was already designed with a jungle landscape. Snake has worked in plenty of these, so it was at least familiar. He turned to his Boss, ready to brief him on his 'mission'. Even if it was a simulation, Ocelot was taking it seriously. Perhaps he enjoyed the play a little too much; he always did lean toward theatrics.]

Snake, this is a rescue operation. There's the remains of a Soviet base two miles directly north of here. A diplomat is being held captive. You shouldn't expect this to be easy. I hear he's guarded by some tough adversaries, including an elite soldier that has command of a band of troops in the area.

You can deal with the situation however you see fit. Stealth. Combat. Whatever you think will get the job done. I'm looking forward to seeing how you handle it all. I don't usually get to observe you in the field.

[This is going to be as much fun for Ocelot as it is for John.]

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[Whereas Miller had seen Snake at work many times. Not only that, he'd dispensed information through radio contact to the phantom alongside of Ocelot. Most of them experiencing tense interaction.]

[Only in this case, Miller had control of the threats. Weather conditions, adversaries, perimeter defenses. And he knows at least what Snake used to be weak to. That might have changed. He doesn't know how much field work Snake continues to do, either.]

[Short story is Miller's leaning on the console he uses to run the thing, lazily supporting himself on it to take some pressure off his artificial leg, and just watching to start with. Though with a warning.] Every troop set-up will change if you have to redo a mission. Even you have intel on their movements, you'll have to refer to it all over again, change your approach.

I think you're both enjoying this. [for one thing, he definitely knows adam is going to enjoy this. if there's one thing that man likes is to test the limit's of a man's character. kaz, on the other hand, looks about as neutral as you can get. whether he's actually invested in giving john a challenge or not, only the future (or the simulation) will tell.

he's really not too worried about having to make a repeat. while john may not be young and spry anymore, his skills are no less sharp. the nine-year coma he endured had been his only prolonged off-time since he first held a gun. whatever the two of them have cooked up, it'll get the blood flowing.

and not a moment too soon.

with the short debriefing out of the way, big boss doesn't waste a moment, already walking off to get ready to enter the sim.] Hope you brought your 'A' game.

You hear that, Miller?

[Ocelot is clearly amused with the remark as Snake walks off to take on the virtual world.]

Let's see how he handles it.

[It isn't long into the simulation before Snake becomes aware of enemies nearby. Two men with guns and talking to each other during an off-moment.]

Why did they move so many troops to the west?

Didn't you hear? The east side had a bunch of mines put there.

Really?

Yeah. Go take a walk if you don't believe me.

N-no way!

[A-game... not just yet. Ocelot gave him a little warm-up first.]

[Miller turns his head and smears his hand down his mouth, just doing his best to be unnoticed as he's balking at how terrible that is. The sprites sometimes got into bouts of repetitive dialog, but this definitely isn't his. It's pretty terrible.]

[A-game definitely not in acting.]

[He knows Ocelot can use very convincing personas but damn if his love for camp isn't painful sometimes.]

[Facing forward again he adjusts the weather. Searing brightness, gentle western breeze, no dust clouds, no storms. The terrain is dry enough that too much movement can kick up dust. There, just a wordless, silent difficulty adjustment.]

[it's been a while since he's been in a jungle. going on twelve years, actually. for the most part, the last two years have been spent between sparse greenery and the sands of the middle east. with feuding ramping up in iraq and iran, there was plenty of work to be found for a group of mercenaries.

despite his time out of this element, he still manages to blend in rather well with his environment. the drab fatigues he's wearing help, of course. which is why he sees the soldiers standing around before they see him.

if there's one thing that'll never change, no matter where he is, it's that soldiers will always find time to talk or complain. mines east of here? nice tidbit, but john thinks he can learn more. the one who was so surprised obviously is the laymen of the two; probably wouldn't know east from west without a map.

which means he'll have to seperate them somehow to get what he wants. with nothing more at his disposal but a knife and his sidearm, john makes a careful appraisal of his environment. dust on his uniform from crawling on the ground means the earth is dry and loose. a dead branch hangs across its siblings on the other side of the soldiers, looking like it'll give way at any moment.

he grabs a rock and flings it over, hitting his intended target with little trouble. the branch tumbles to ground, into high grass, kicking up a dust cloud. hopefully, it distracts one of the soldiers into looking at it, leaving the other one for john to takedown.]

[As if they were programmed to do it, both soldiers look over at the sound.]

Huh? Wait here. I'll check it out.

Okay.

[The more experienced one wanders off to look for the sound he heard. He might find out it was nothing in a bit, so Snake won't have long to work. The rookie sways back and forth on his feet and talks to himself.]

Oh man, I hate the jungle. I can't wait until I'm on a new assignment. Maybe someplace warm. But not jungle warm. More like Bermuda-warm. Do they have jungles in Bermuda? That's the life for me.

[A humored part of Miller's brain thinks that these fake men would not enjoy the hot the way they thought they would, but he's spent a lot of time trying to get a taste for the worst of every climate, to know how to survive there. Something that he knows John is good at as well.]

[He looks at the layout of the place, what Ocelot had in mind, on a screen on his control panel. It's easy enough to reach up and alter the path of a couple of the guards; not away from the most convenient entrance, but towards it.]

[Might as well keep his practice up in disabling threats, see if he goes lethal or non-lethal.]

[when one of the soldiers meanders over to where the branch fell, john's train of thought immediately stops. people always wonders how big boss continues to be such a force to be reckoned with, how he continues to outwit and outstep any enemy at every turn. some people think it's just insane luck, but john knows it's just instincts. honed instincts, much like an animal. as a soldier, as a killer, you either have them or you don't.

john doesn't overthink what's in front of him, just takes it all in. there's several ways he can immediately incapacitate these two, but his gut knows what'll be right. when he should move.

the silenced 9mm sits heavy on his hip, but it's the knife that finds its way into his hand. there's not too much distance between the two, meaning even the muffled shot of a gun will still make too much noise. not too much time, either, before the other man turns around. luckily, john wasn't too far away from the rookie.

while the inexperienced soldier is thinking about whether he'll ever get stationed somewhere nice or not, john is thinking about how quickly he can get his knife in the man's chest. when he springs on him, the motions are quick and precise, clamping down on the man's mouth and chin to prevent him from calling out. before he can begin flailing, the knife in boss' hand is pierced directly into the soldier's heart. a swift twist assures the man is dead before his body even gets down to the ground.

the gun is drawn as big boss moves up behind the other soldier, who calls out with a shrug that whatever caused the noise seems to be gone now. there's not enough time to grab him before he turns out, john resorting to holding the gun up and --]

Don't move. [predictably, the soldier freezes, never even making an attempt for his gun. john wrestles the soldier into his grasp, holding the gun to the side of his temple.] Tell me what you know about troop movements.

[Ocelot can't be seen as part of the simulation, but he's enjoying watching the Boss work. He never gets such a front seat view of it unless they're sparring with each other, and even then he can't really bask in the man's greatness. Oh yes, he's enjoying all of this.

The first soldier is down without a sound and then the second one is apprehended. With no way out, he starts giving Snake the details of the troop movements up ahead in the jungle. It's pretty routine and regular, with check-ins every twenty minutes and guard changes every four hours.]

[It's a greatness that Miller's gotten to bask in first hand, with an arm around his throat and the bodies of camrades around him. Or a greatness he's basked in while watching monstrous machines fall to Earth. Then always with a bandana. He's not had the heart to tell him what he found in Costa Rica. Just stuck it in his drawer where he keeps the rest of his miscellaneous memories.]

[He's not surprised at how easily John opts for lethal; he's always supported the efficiency of a Snake either way, but it did help to bring people in alive. For resources, for information, for morale. But rather than offering it up as an additional challenge he looks down at the console and grades his progress so far. No spottings. Clean kills. No guards alerted by corpses.] Good work, Snake. [Comes a familiar old cheer from where he's standing.]

[(He's also quietly thanking the heavens above Big Boss didn't decide to come in here and try to do this in his damned swim trunks.)]

[it all feels a little too routine, maneuvering through guards and hiking his way to a fortified base. in fact, it even feels a somewhat nostalgic, like he's twenty years younger crawling through tselinoyarsk. john appreciates the sentiment, he guesses, but if the hostage he has to rescue at the end of this turns out to be a cowardly scientist and the men guarding him start making animals sounds, he's going to have Words with ocelot.

with the information he gleans from the first soldier, getting around the rest of the grunts is child's play. there are surprises here and there, and he has to kill a few more men, but it's nothing he can't handle. john thought this was supposed to be a challenge, but all it ends up being is a walk down memory lane. the 9mm hangs from his hip, all the bullets still accounted for. whatever or whoever is guarding the building surely will make him use them.

by the time the old soldier finishes his two mile trek, making use of the tall grass to do recon of base's outer defenses, he feels oddly winded. fatigues weighs on him like a heavy blanket and he's breathing a little hard. two miles should be a walk in the park for him, even at his age. he's never been tired from traveling less than five miles. luckily, from his vantage point, no one can hear him deliberately try to draw breath.

did miller thin the atmosphere? can he even do that? and why would he?

with a path around the guards and into the base planned out, john tries to ignore his body's sudden weakness and continue forward. it wouldn't be the first time he's pushed through pain.]

[There's a bar on his console that beeps once. Beeps twice. And at the third, Miller leans back to take a good look at it.]

[When he'd come into possession of this room, he'd been made aware that if a trainee was injured or severely ill, when their life was at risk, the program they were participating in would terminate so they could receive medical attention. John's just pressing forward, moving ahead as if nothing has gone awry.]

Snake? How are you feeling?

[The tone has completely changed from the previous approval. Now just a curious, calm call. But the way he's glancing between Ocelot and Snake, he's starting to get nervous.] Check your vitals on you MID for me. [That a little more firm in delivery.]

[Since John hasn't stopped his advance, the program hasn't ceased either. Not yet, at least, though Miller can always cut things short early if he's worried.

Snake makes it easily through the jungle, but the compound is more of a challenge. Just when he's trying to catch his breath, a guard turns a corner and spots him there.]

An enemy!

[Everything goes into alert mode as the guard opens fire on John with a spray of bullets from an AK-47.]

I'm fine, Kaz. [he's not really fine, but if big boss quit every time he had a debilitating injury, he would've been retired years ago. if miller tries to contact him anymore after that, john just ignores him. his focus on the task ahead of him has already suffered enough; doesn't need kaz's worry on top of that.

right up until he's just about to enter the base, he manages to keep his sudden illness in check. somehow, he keeps his breathing under control, shallow as it is, grits his teeth against the pain quickly blooming in his chest. what the hell is happening to him?

just as he's forced to stop, energy sapped, john starts to think this isn't normal. there's something actually wrong with him. that's when the guard shows up.

he's been shot before, knows what it should feel like, but even though he sees the bullets hit his torso, all of the pain is centered in his chest. john can feel his heart stutter, try to pump blood and fail, the searing pain so intense his knees buckle. he doesn't notice when the simulation stops because his vision is swimming, voice trapped in his throat.

it feels like it takes years to finally black out, the last thing john sees is the ground he doesn't remember falling to. big boss doesn't even have time for a final thought, lungs seizing up and heart shuddering to a sudden halt.]

[Regardless of whether Miller chooses to or not, when the MID registers Big Boss's heart faltering the soldiers, the environment, the hail of artificial bullets falters mid-fire and sputters to non-existence. Leaving the room in its painfully sterile state.]

SNAKE! [Why does he never listen to him.]

His vitals are dropping. [The second part yelled as he runs over to where he's collapsed, not realizing yet the damage had been done. Not until he presses fingers to his throat, his wrist.]

Goddammit Snake. [Muttered, and then to Ocelot.] Contact Med Bay. We can try CPR until they get here.

[Ocelot is as stunned as Miller is. The simulation is virtual! There's no actual danger, and yet, something terribly wrong has happened. When the simulation shuts off he hurries over to Snake's side and gets on a knee next to him.]

Boss!

[A hand jostles the man's shoulder.]

John!

[What the hell! He'll let Miller start CPR as he gets up to send an urgent message to medbay. Whoever is staffing will no doubt be on the way immediately. It's not like medbay gets these calls all the time.]

[Why do they never fucking listen?! Miller tries to look out for them and who is the one that listens to him? Eli. Eli is the one that shares a batch of these genes that chooses to have some concern for his health without a perpetual I'm fine.]

[Despite that thought, he's not putting it together yet. He's too busy tilting Snake's head back so his airway's clear.]

[He huffs the first breath into his mouth, hoping against hope this will work. Before it's "too late" again.] Give him air! [He yells at Ocelot, moving back to compress his chest again. Better with two people.]

I swear to god Snake if you fucking do this again... [He's hissing under his breath.] Kimi no shitai ketobasu zo. [That part grunted mostly under his breath, promising to kick his fucking corpse. Not that he would, but maybe in the back of his mind he thinks if he threatens him hard enough Big Boss will sense it and his heart will start out of spite.]

[Ocelot looks down at the two. Not close enough to get in the way of Snake's 'air'; he knows Kaz is shouting out of desperation. He's losing... no, he's lost John again. This time in a different way. How could this happen? It's impossible.

Moments later, the medical team is already coming in, trying to usher Kaz out of the way to take over with their equipment. It won't do any good, though. No doubt there'll be some questions about the simulation, but there's no way it was too much for John to handle.]

There has to be some explanation for this. Something we're not seeing.

[Already he's considering the possibility of a delayed poison in the man's system because John's not so old that he'd just drop dead.]

[Kaz isn't even thinking of it right then. David never told him the symptoms. That math isn't so simple. But he's focused too hard on breathing air into his mouth, forcing his chest to rise. And then pushing on it again.]

[And it doesn't work. He keeps it up until it's obvious that it's doomed to failure, and then just puts his hand over his forehead.]

...Something poisonous? [He mutters as a weak possibility. Shakes his head.]

[The words are empty, like he can't really search for the answer in this state of mind. With one last nudge, like a gentle jostle might wake him up out of a sleep, he gets up and out of the way for whatever Med Bay personnel arrive.]

[Ocelot reaches down to put a hand on Kaz's shoulder and help him move away from the body so the doctors can look at John, but it's obviously too late. He doesn't know what miracles they can make happen on this ship, but Ocelot has seen enough dead bodies to know when one has checked out beyond help.

It just... didn't make any sense.]

You really think he had a damn heart attack or something?

[Because that can't possibly be it.]

I don't know! [He snaps at Ocelot. Of course, Ocelot's the one that can think "logically" through everything. Even this. But Miller, no. This nasty hotbrand of emotion. Sometimes a benefit, sometimes the thing that can make a man sit as long as possible in danger, waiting for one single person to show up. ~~Not the one on the floor.~~ Gives him relentlessness in the face of adversity.]

[And sometimes it just makes him incredibly difficult to work with.]

I'll- [he tenses up his mouth, measures his own breath] -go with them to Med Bay. I need to find out if the room somehow did it anyway.

[Knowing his luck, that's probably what it was.]

[Ocelot nods. He plans to go to medbay as well, but he'll stay out of the way of the medics so they can do their work and gather the results. God willing, John will be resurrected and return to them. If not... he's not sure what that'll mean from here on.]

We'll get this sorted out. John will be back before you know it.

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Closed Log: wtf boss wtf

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