Catchall log for mid-Merriment, OTA!

[subcircuits]

Who: Devero and YOU
Where: All over the train
When: Merriment 17 through 21
What: Devero potters around the train, catching up on things and pretending he's not still really, really worn out from the mission.
Warnings: Recreational drug use in the luggage car prompt.


In the days following the platform, Devero is relieved to find that he's recovered enough energy to be able to stay awake for most of a day, and even to concentrate on projects again! The lassitude is hanging on to him longer than most, so he's still not quite is robust self, but he's present and working again. Between Merriment 17 and 21, he can be encountered all over the train.

Where does your character find him?


In the lab car?
Wait, since when is Devero glowing purple and semi-transparent? Come into the lab car on the right day at the right time and you'll find this specter moving about. Perhaps he's fiddling with a door latch, or you find him in one of the labs, picking things up and putting them back down again. There is absolutely neutral, lifeless expression on his face if you happen to catch sight of it, and-- Wait, is that some kind of glowing core in the middle of the shape?


In the training car?
Devero knows how to shoot a gun. Really. He swears. But if you happen in on him practicing his marksmanship with a sleek, futuristic rifle in his hands, it sure doesn't seem like it. He's visibly frustrated as he misses another shot, dropping the gun down from his shoulder and turning his back on his target. (Claudette tilts her head and chirrups. Does this mean the game is over?)

"Rust and ruin," he swears, shoving his wrap-around tactical Interface up on his forehead. "I'm never going to get the hang of this thing. I'm sorry, Entrapta."


In the library car:
Several weeks ago, Devero had snatched down the slip of paper that he'd tacked up in the standard car, the one advertising lessons in GSL-- Global Sign Language. The day of the platform, he'd tacked it back up again. Find him at the advertised time in the library, staring into the screen of his usual Interface. While he waits to see if anyone's going to show up, he's talking to himself.

You know, with his hands. How else? This is meant to be a sign-language lesson, after all!


In the music car:
As crowded as the train's been getting, the second floor of the music carriage is still a good place to slip away to if you're looking for (relative) privacy. Today, however, Devero's beaten you to it. If you don't notice right away that he's in here, though, that's understandable-- there's no music, no sound save for the whisper of his feet on the stage, the rustle of his clothes, and the occasional audible breath.

Despite the apparent silence, Devero is dancing. He's practicing alone an energetic routine for two, but there's no mistaking the precision and grace in his movements as he performs them, even without the partner.

Do you stay and watch, or leave him to dance in solitude?


In the luggage car?
If you've been on the train for longer than a few weeks, you may already be acquainted with this particular odor: it's savory, herby, as if someone's over-toasted spices in a pan prior to cooking with them. Were it a strong odor, it'd probably be sour and unpleasant; as mild as it is, it's mostly unobjectionable.

The source of it can be easily traced to the obviously hand-rolled cigarette smoldering between Devero's lips. That's right, it's future-weed hours here in the luggage car, folks. And if you look at him twice, you'll find him holding his joint out in your direction. "Want a hit?" he asks amiably.


Somewhere else?
Devero can feasibly be found all over the train: prepping vegetables or washing dishes in the kitchen; soaking or doing yoga in the spa car; working out in either of the gyms; sleeping through a movie in the cinema; or even just traveling up and down the train. Yeah, they have transgates now, but walking (or hoverskating) the length of the train is an easy way to keep his condition up while he's still recovering from the last mission. He's not nearly as exhausted as he was before, which means it's working. Really. He swears! He didn't fall asleep here, he was just resting his eyes!

Feel free to find him wherever you want, if one of the prompts above doesn't tickle your fancy.

Comments

Training Car

[nutkrusher]

Cassie approaches very carefully from behind.

"Nothing for it but more practice," she says.

[subcircuits]

Devero groans, long enough and loud enough that it's hopefully clear he's playing it up a little. He engages the safety and then slings the rifle over his shoulder as he turns to face Cassie.

"You sure? Maybe we can find an Elixir of Aimwell mixed in with the potions somewhere?"

[nutkrusher]

Cassie smirks. "I bet we've got 'em. Right next to the left-handed hand grenades."

[subcircuits]

The specific nuance of her joke is lost on him, but the context makes it clear enough. He laughs, the last of the frustration leaving him.

"Don't suppose you have any tips you'd like to share?"

[nutkrusher]

"I'm gonna guess you've heard a couple of the big ones," Cassie says. "'Aim small, miss small,' 'squeeze don't pull,' that sort of thing."

She steps in a little closer.

"I might be able to take a look at your stance, though. See if there's any adjustments to make."

[subcircuits]

"Could you?" he says. "That'd be great."

He swings the rifle up to his shoulder, and it will probably be very clear to her what his problem is: he holds the rifle like a man who's ever handled a pistol. (Probably because he's a man who's only ever handled a pistol.)

He peeks at her over his shoulder. "Lay it on me-- how bad is it?"

[nutkrusher]

Cassie leans in closer, shifting the position of the butt of the gun, and gently pressing his neck to shift his head in relation to it.

"First things first - don't be shy about pressing your cheek against the stock."

[subcircuits]

She'll find him compliant to her guidance, his whole body loose as she adjusts his position. Given the sheepish grin on his face as he leans his cheek directly against the gun, he had been shy about doing just that.

"All right," he says. "What next?"

[nutkrusher]

"You've also got the same principle to keep in mind as you do with a pistol," Cassie says. "Triangles are the strongest shape. You want as many of those as possible."

His elbow is worked into a slightly more stable shape.

"There's no one-size-fits-all trick, though. Time at the range is the biggest thing that'll help you find what the right approach for you is."

[subcircuits]

It's been so long since his initial firearms training that he, er, possibly doesn't actively remember as many of these fundamentals as he should. He's always been a quick study, though, and even quicker with the ghosts of drill sergeants past coming awake in his mind.

"Triangles," he repeats, going on to adjust his footing after she adjusts his arm. He holds the position through a sigh. "Yeah, I know," he says. "Guess I was just hoping it'd be easier to get the hang of it, since I can shoot a pistol all right."

[nutkrusher]

"It does help," Cassie says. "Even if you didn't remember anything else, you'd still remember shit like range etiquette and how to respect a firearm."

She pauses.

"How about trying it out? A couple dry shots first, to get the feel right."

[subcircuits]

"Okay, good point," he concedes with a chuckle. "I've got that part down."

He actually relaxes out of stance, lowering the rifle and squinting at it. "--I'm not sure this can be dry fired, actually. You know those manadrives, in mission supply?"

[nutkrusher]

"Oh yeah. Forgot we've got space guns."

She nods at the question.

"Sure do."

[subcircuits]

"Entrapta took one and integrated the tech into this space gun for me." He lifts the rifle to his shoulder again, shifting back into his adjusted stance and sighting along the barrel. He toggles the safety, double-checks that Cassie's clear, and fires.

A bolt of pure white-blue magic shoots out of the gun. (Claudette, the little sparring robot that Entrapta had also made, jumps and tries to snap her teeth on it.)

He lowers the rifle and looks at Cassie again. "This gun shoots heals."

[nutkrusher]

Cassie smiles and nods. "Sweet. So you're focusing on being able to miss the bad guys and not hit 'em."

[subcircuits]

He re-engages the safety and tips it up over his shoulder again. "Yep," he says with a crooked grin. "Only gun I've ever used where you want to hit someone with friendly fire."

[nutkrusher]

"Might want to let the rest of the team know about it," Cassie says. "So they know to hold still when you're aiming for 'em."

[subcircuits]

"--Shit, that's a good idea," Devero says. Someone hadn't thought of that at all, apparently. Then he scowls, but not at her. "Sure would be convenient if our vice-ridden SCAs had a text function, I could just send a group text."

[nutkrusher]

"It would," Cassie says. "Until then we might have to settle for a video ICP notice."

[subcircuits]

"And have half the train miss it if they're not paying attention, or otherwise occupied, or somewhere loud," he grumbles, then huffs. "But the system is what it is, so." He shrugs.

[nutkrusher]

"Could maybe make a request for an upgrade to the SCAs," Cassie says. "If Apple can do it once a year, the magical train that can travel anywhere can do it once a fucking ever."

[subcircuits]

He may not know what Apple is, but he laughs nonetheless. "You know, it's worth a try. Sure would be damn useful."

Changing the subject without warning, he asks, "How'd that last mission treat you?"

[nutkrusher]

A hard-to-read expression flashes across Cassie's face for a second before it returns to neutral again.

"Probably better than it did for some people. Gave me a few things to think about."

[subcircuits]

He saw that.

"Think this one gave all of us a few things to think about, honestly," he says. "What a fucking nightmare."

[nutkrusher]

"Yeah," Cassie says. "I'd promised myself I wouldn't get brainwashed again, too."

She sighs.

"At least Trunks was with me. That's given me some better things to think about."