maskormenacelogs | a series of fortunate events [OPEN]

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a series of fortunate events [OPEN]

WHO: Manabu, et al.
WHERE: assorted
WHEN: august
WHAT: ASSORTED PLEASANT ENCOUNTERS...
WARNINGS: ?? ? ? ?? ? I BROKE ONE OF THE PROMPTS DONT LOOK AT IT IN THE PAST

o1. ducks
(a park, any city)

[Manabu jogs a lot now. it's the cheapest, easiest exercise around, and it doubles as a means to get a lay of the land. especially important for the cities he frequents less often; he can't let that teleporter technology go to waste!

he's cutting through a city park doing just that--looking about, watching the goings-on in said park he passes by. doing so is keeping him from noticing the nice little line of ducks crossing the sidewalk to get to the pond until it's almost too late: he startles, staggers, and does a very graceless jump before his next footfall could squash any of them.

he yelps, ducks, and tumbles off the path and into the legs of whatever unsuspecting park-goer's currently seated on the bench he's flopped by.

congratulations, meetings like this don't happen every day outside of movies.]

o2. letters
(Nonah neighborhood; government housing)

[the mailperson's making their rounds through the cul de sac Manabu lives in, and little do they know he's been keeping tabs on their delivery times of late. he watches from the living room window the same way maybe a dog would, but this dog has thumbs and can open the door and head outside after delivery.

which he does.

he hastens over to the mailbox and rifles through its new contents. he's been pretty lucky with mail the past week; his driver's license came in days prior. and now he's hoping...]

Come on, come on... [no. nope. no. n--wait.] -!!

[coupon books and miscellaneous solicitations are carelessly thrust back into the box--some outright falling to the ground, forgotten, while Manabu frees up his hands to tear into the big, white, fancy-looking envelope he's got his sights on.

he stands still and silent while he pores over the contents, reading and rereading before suddenly both arms are thrust into the air triumphantly, letter flapping in the breeze.]

YES!!

[was that loud? it was a little loud. this neighborhood has good acoustics.]

o3. cabbages
(an open-air market, any city)

[Manabu's not familiar with grapefruit, but he has this weird feeling that they're not supposed to slosh inside when shaken. he gives it another cautionary shake just to convince himself, frowning as he listens. his concentration is broken by loud, angry barks.]

Eh-?

[he swivels his head and ducks just in time as a big dog leaps over the fruit stand he's browsing, getting only a few seconds to gawk before a smaller, burlier dog blows inches past him underneath the same stand.

chaos ensues. the dog chase zips through the small line of stands and the people scattered among them, and distantly Manabu hears a loud crunch and a dismayed cry from a vendor ("MY CABBAGES!").

he stands up, rubbing the back of his head and peers out toward the dogs racing off into the distance. he huffs, then freezes again, hearing another incoming sound. he glances over his shoulder, spotting the cyclist zooming in, broken leash flapping in the air.]

Look out-! [he grabs the arm of the stranger (or friend? he doesn't notice, he just reacts) near him and yanks them out of the path just as said cyclist buzzes by, yelling apologies loudly.

he blinks, holding his breath for a beat longer before deciding that's the end of that.] Jeez...

o4. cars
(a car dealership, any city)

[right. so. people don't get their vehicles with their license. that's a bummer. (Manabu's a little spoiled; all the certifications he got in the SDF also meant he was piloting and driving those very things all the time!)

anyway.

cars.

he wants one. but...]

Aa...what-? [he gives the data sheet pasted to the window a disgusted look.] Isn't this--? [he rifles through the tags he's collected in his hands, squinting between the ones in-hand and the ones on the car.]

...These are...the same car...but this one's red.

[mental math.

dismayed:] Three hundred extra dollars just because it's red?? No way...

o5. tchotckes
(a street fair in a suburb outside Nonah - LOCKED TO BRENDAN)

[Brendan and Manabu bus out some miles outside of Nonah. it's a bit too hot to walk the few miles it takes to get out to the street fair Manabu's been told about...er. well. told about and...lightly threatened to show up to...

see, there's some friends he's made at the shooting range, and apparently said friends have wives and kids selling things there, and apparently Manabu's going to have to pay extra next time he comes in to practice if he doesn't show up to meet them, so...he's really got no choice, considering those stakes! he assumes this is just another form of hazing for being a triple-threat of outsider there: new, younger, and an imPort.

(the reality is none of them believe he knows how to take a break -- which they'd be right to intuit -- and this is their pitch to get him to take a day off for once)

in any case, it's just fifteen-ish minutes and a few cents on a city bus before they're dumped off with a small smattering of old folks with eyes on the same prize; Manabu hops off the step and squints toward the bright orange and white barricades separating everyday traffic from the cluster of mobile vendors and tents that have been propped up along the street.

he sidesteps, feeling someone behind him, and glances over his shoulder to look for his friend. he smiles crookedly.]

How about that. A drive that didn't end terribly. Ha...

o6. guns
(a shooting range 11 miles outside Nonah - LOCKED TO DUO)

[abovementioned street fair dues were paid, and so the regulars at the shooting range are appeased. Manabu is greeted with the gruff cheer typical for the sort of folks who frequent the place; it's an atmosphere he's growing to like. most everyone older than him and prone to griefing him for his age and looks (he has got to find a way to lose these "kiddo" and "babyface" nicknames), but his skills have been enough to satisfy most of the judgmental folks assuming he doesn't know what he's doing.

well, one more old person's going to be there today! he texted Duo and let him know he was on his way before he took to his bike and rode out. it was a pleasant ride on the way there if he kept moving -- the sun's a bit too much today.

he skids to a halt in the gravel parking lot, taking a second to slug some water and wipe sweat off his forehead. he fishes his communicator to check and see if he'd gotten any response during the long ride out.]

o7. miscellaney
(wildcard; drop a prompt or hmu @whyellewhy on plurk)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Hey kiddo! Already here, you'll see me when you get in."

[That was the reply Manabu will have once he checks his comm in the parking lot. Sadly for Duo's morals, the whole Unregistered status thing meant he wasn't afforded certain privileges- Second Amendment among them. And, he thought, it wasn't like he thought that was particularly unfair. After all, he was used to having to do things not-quite-legally.]

[So he snuck into the range, of course, tucked himself away in a corner watching the other patrons shoot while he waited for Manabu to come. He always liked to be early to any party. Upper hand was always a good thing to have, even when he didn't think he'd need it. When he spots Manabu, he'll uncloak to him, give a friendly little wave with that wrinkled, sunny grin of his, and push off the wall.] Ready to shoot stuff?

[once Manabu's said his hellos to familiar faces from work and signed in at the front desk, he sets to looking for Duo. but of course, Duo's more in charge of being spotted, and so the former gets a little startle when called out.]

Oh-! [he turns, swapping surprise for a smile.] Hi, Shin! I didn't see you there. [he nods.] Mm, yeah. I don't own a firearm, so I have to go rent one out and get the safety gear. Did you already get yours?

Most people don't! [He replies cheerfully, tipping his hat in greeting.]

[He pats his zipped-up motorcycle jacket, unzipping and then flipping the front open- notably, he wasn't wearing his priest's cassock or collar today; it would certainly be difficult to explain to others why a priest was shooting guns- to show the concealed-carry holster he kept strapped down beneath it, just out of sight.] Usually do. You don't own one? Why's that?

[He strolls forward, having been watching the skill of other patrons for a while. Many of them experienced, sure; but he could only pick out a scant few that looked like they'd likely had actual experience firing in a combat situation. Cops, he guessed, or former military, maybe. He looks back to Manabu.] Heh, you talk to the regulars a lot, I guess?

Aa, getting licensed is on my list to do. But I figured...well, maybe if I do get into the police academy, I'll be able to knock that out at the same time. [he's cautiously optimistic about it, but he sure doesn't want to run head-into things thinking it's a done deal.

on their walk along the corridor toward the range, they can see through the bullet proof windows to where the line of people are practicing. the wall opposite has the head and eye gear Manabu needs to grab; he instinctively offers the same to Duo.]

Oh--mm! Some of them, yeah. They're from work, over at the assembly plant. They actually recommended the place to me, so...

Oh yeah? You haven't yet? [Well, that certainly made him feel a little better about basically being there illegally. As long as nothing too crazy happened, he should be okay, but...]

[He takes in their surroundings as he follows Manabu through, watching more of the other patrons. Taking the offered protection from him, he slips on the glasses, then removes his hat to slip the ear protection on, tilted just-off his ears to continue the conversation until they actually began.]

Ah-- ahaha, is that so...? [So they were coworkers of his, huh? Duo grins, a little strained. Crap. Well, he'd better be sure not to cause any trouble.] Well, you go first, yeah? I've seen a little of what you can do, but I'd like to see it in ...a little less hectic setting. [Like, without robots trying to murder them.]

[he blinks at the request, in the middle of pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. a beat, and he smiles, giving a nod.] Mm, sure.

[once safety's all squared away and a handgun signed up for, Manabu takes his place at one of the open lanes. there's a little hesitation in making sure his gun's good to go -- conventional bullets and all that...it's different than a dragoon.

he's a decent shot, but not a prodigy. the first couple shots show he's not used to absorbing the recoil from a physical bullet, but he adjusts.]

[Duo takes up a spot behind the safety glass to watch him shoot, somewhere that he won't be in the way of anyone else trying to pass through and can remain nice and inconspicuous. As he watches, he can tell that Manabu is used to shooting, use to the idea of it- but there's something a little off, something he'd noticed while they were fighting and wanted to confirm.]

What do you use, back home? [Duo asks, once Manabu is done shooting and has a moment to remove his muffs. He gestures towards a couple of the shots.] I'd seen it on the street and guessed, but you seem like you're not very used to ballistics. Is it... beam technology that you're used to?

Mm. [once he's got the headphones down around his neck, he nods.] Yeah, primary fire is beam-based, especially out in space. Ballistics training is more intense for Panzer Grenadiers, and people who see more action on land...

[he puts the handgun down and lifts the broken pistol from his holster, holding it out for Duo.] Standard issue sidearms are these Cosmo Dragoons. They can overheat if they see too much action, but if it's maintained well, it's a pretty reliable shot and holds a good charge.

You won't see any action out of that one, though. [his mouth quirks, noting an invested glint in the old man's eye.]

No one's bothered figuring out how to compact beam technology to a human size yet, where I'm from. People kill each other just fine with ballistics. [Duo snorts, but his eyes light up once Manabu draws his side-arm.]

[Now this he was interested in. He'd spoken about laser weaponry back in The City a few times, seen it in person, but he'd never really gotten to handle one.]

[...So of course, he deflates a little, tossing Manabu a flat look as soon as he mentioned the weapon was non-operational.] Oh. [He frowns, but he's still checking it over with the eye of a mechanic, wanting to open it up and figure out what made it tic.] Overheating seems like the most ...explosive possible issue with this tech. Is it a small self-sufficient generator? Battery?

[he shakes his head a little.] Mm-mn. This, here. [he taps at the side of the gun, where a break in the molding shows where a portion can be clipped on or off.]

It's almost like--little fuses in there? I don't know the detailed specs, but they can fry almost like fuses if it gets overworked. That's what happened with this one, years ago. [smiling:] It's just a protection charm now.

Disposable charge? [Duo asks, looking more closely. The more he examined it, the more alike he could imagine it to the tech that existed in his world- the similarities to the energy packs that powered the Buster Rifle, or the charging rack that had powered the beam scythe. He could see the damage Manabu mentioned right there in the socket, and frowned.] Too bad.

[Probably not unreproducible, though.]

[It was a good thing that this was just for show, now. Duo hands it back, disappointed as he is.] Your 'charm', huh. For good luck? [He grins. Boy, if anyone needed that...]

[Manabu makes an affirmative sound through his nose while Duo peers at the gun.

he laughs a little, accepting it back, holding it with a bit more reverence this time around.] That's the hope, yeah. So far I'm still breathing, right? Now whether this has anything to do with it or not, well...

Haha, well... [He looks Manabu up and down, sympathetic.] If it ain't broke, don't fix it, huh? Guess that goes double for that gun.

...That's good, though. Having things which remind you of something important, even if it's just superstition. The good luck is the calm it brings you, don't you think?

[Duo winks, breathing out a wistful smile.] ...My name, too. That's why I keep it close.

[He looks away again, readying his own sidearm to do a bit of shooting himself.]

[Manabu holsters the broken gun, pleased to get so little flack for carrying it.

and-- the name thing? it gets a little tilt of the head out of him. he doesn't say anything of it, only pondering on it while Duo takes point at the target. he slides his headphones on and steps away to observe, hands folded behind his back.

(and he's not the only one; there are some other regulars loitering about with an eye on the stranger.)]

[When Duo steps up to the booth, slipping the muffs over his ears- for verisimilitude, why not- he knows there are eyes on him, and he's not particularly a fan of that. But hey, he's got an audience- why not show them what they want to see?]

[It's hardly a moment after he's safely in the booth between him raising his gun, sliding the safety off, and he's already fired off three rounds in a clean circle around the first target. He relaxes his arm a moment, makes a little face of dissatisfaction, reaims and fires another two into the next one.]

[Tears a hole clean in the bullseye. That's better, he smirks to himself.]

[Manabu's eyebrows go up. was that symmetry...intentional, or just really lucky? he's not alone in wondering -- just not murmuring it aloud. (not that he can hear...SAFETY HEADGEAR).

when Duo does look back, Manabu tilts his head, a small smile curving up. he lifts one of the muffs off an ear.]

Are you sure you even need practice, shooting like that?

[When Duo turns around, safety back on his gun, he lets it cool a moment and leans against the stall doorframe. He knows people are talking around him. He catches Manabu's expression- surprised, huh? Well, the kid had seen him at work before, but perhaps not quite in this way.]

Ahhh, well. You know, when you get to my age you start to worry less about your aiming instincts and more about your eyesight being able to pick out the targets, so I still like some practice now and then. You know? [He gives the kid a wink.] So, you need any help adjusting to the recoil? I think you just need a little bit more practice, is all. And maybe a bit more tension in the forearm when you're firing.

[Manabu looks down at his own piece, turning it in hand.] Right, yeah... I keep expecting a lighter recoil. Not that I expect anyone to be firing multiple rounds off a thing like this, but I'm amazed anyone could and still hit where they're aiming. [he squints a little.] But...you make up for the lack of stamina with where you aim for that, right?

[otherwise, one would have to be built like those silly video game characters to keep firing properly. and a Contra guy Manabu sure is not...]

Got it in one! [Duo clicks his tongue with a grin. He mimics the movement with his empty hand to demonstrate-] As you feel the recoil come through the elbow, you'll notice a consistent amount of jerk-- assuming you're using the same gun, of course. That's why you keep a favorite side-arm and get used to that recoil, then learn the exact correction you need to make for it.

...Oooor you can just learn the quirks of every gun, but, heh. Stretch goals, yanno? [Or intensive paramilitary training. His case had been mostly the latter- you wouldn't believe the kickback a shrimpy 12 year old gets on an Uzi.]

[smiling slightly:] At least the ones an officer handles most, anyway. [he can't really imagine any unit deployed primarily in civilian locations having to carry anything heavier than an SMG in a real crisis; this isn't the Panzer Grenadiers...]

That's why this place has been so useful. I'm kind of glad you caught me here at this point in time, because I really wasn't all that accurate at the onset...

You got it! [Duo winks, stepping out of the booth.] Well, with a bit of practice I'm sure you'll get it down in no time.

[Hm, Manabu was still academy, so they'd probably be teaching him, anyway. Not like he had to perfect his shot overnight.] How long since you started practice shooting here? Seems like people know you.

Oh, ha-- [he shoots a glance over his shoulder, smiling a little self-consciously. then it's back down to the gun in his hands, taking the empty clip out.] Yeah, uh...they actually recommended this place to me. I work on an assembly line some nights and out on the weekends, just for a little extra pocket money. There's a handful of people here who work the same line, and when they found out I was planning to be a police officer... [he looks up, embarrassed.] Well, I got teased a lot, but also everyone was pretty encouraging all the same. So in exchange for teasing me, I guess that's why they invited me out here.

--Coworkers? [Duo looks, genuinely, a little surprised for a moment, but it softens into a small smile. No wonder. Another way to spend time with your common fellows, native or not- this kid had the right thing goin'.] Heh, workplace hazing hits everyone I guess. This is an interesting way of doing it.

...That's good. Hopefully they can help you correct your shot, a little. And they'll know that the kid they're helping out will help protect their community, someday.

Ahaha-- [he ducks his head to laugh a little. when he looks back up, he's still smiling.] You know, that's pretty much what they said. So you got something in common with the folks here, Shin.

[there it is. the most goddang anime thing Manabu's said this entire conversation. i don't know why it's the most anime thing, but it sure does look like it.

anyway,

Manabu steps around him, back to take his place at the target.] And in any case, I can pick your brain for some pointers, too, huh. I, ah, [he's fidgeting with his gear, looking ahead.] missed out on whatever flashy gunplay you had that day, that's my fault. But now that I know to pay attention...

[Duo gives a warm wink] Good. That means it's the right thing, yeah? [A clap on the shoulder, too.] If the people here believe in what you're doing, that's the most important thing. Take their belief in you as support if you ever start to doubt it yourself.

[Talk about anime huh, look at this veteran dadding here]

[Duo's warm smile falters into something a little reluctant as he's reminded of the battle during the clone disasters; he scratches the side of his nose, trying to pass it off as being a bit sheepish.] Ahaha, well... Don't worry about it. You know... I was workin', so.

[More what he usually considered his 'work', in any case. He still had lingering doubts about that day- about some of the things he'd witnessed.] --You're okay now, right? You got all healed up? ...I don't know how long the effects of that stuff stay with you.

a series of fortunate events [OPEN]

6 UNBELIEVABLY LATE HI

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Iiii don't know a damn thing about shoots

COOL me too

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