Human Grievous out and about - Open to all

[generalgrievous]

WHO: Grievous and OPEN to all! Separate(ist) prompt for Dooku.
WHERE: Around Heropa
WHEN: Early June
WHAT: Grievous is testing out his human body; reporting to Count Dooku
WARNINGS: Possible violence or talk of violence


A. Human!Grievous [Open] (Found wandering around Heropa)

It had been nearly a month since he had arrived here on Earth and so far Grievous had been avoiding something. He had discovered that he had the brand new power to transform through three different forms. Two of which were familiar to him - but the third was very much not and very much unwanted. At least, it had been until he thought about the possibilities. He had often wore masks, even before he had been made into a cyborg, so he knew their power. Being human could be a sort of mask; a ruse for the unsuspecting, perhaps to lull some into a false sense of security. Now that he was working again with Count Dooku, he could see where such measures may prove useful in certain situations. Most here looked human. He could more easily blend in among them and maybe it could also earn him more trust. Looking fearsome was all well and good in a battle and negotiations had never been his strongest point but as some sort of back-up, for example, to Dooku, people may not look twice at a human, never suspecting what else lay within.

With this in mind, he knew he would need to practice being human. Once he had transformed, the body felt weak and frail to him. Standing at six feet tall, that was still shorter than both his alien and cyborg forms. It was a very unusual feeling. One advantage he did notice, however, was how much clearer his mind felt. The anger was much lessened and he could focus on more minute details. He knew this would aid him in any future planning, so perhaps this was not as terrible as he had first thought when he had first found himself in this state.

He left his shared house in Heropa and set out, walking around and keeping alert for reactions. He passed many by without incident. They didn't give him a second glance. Eventually he found his way back to the park he'd visited before, sitting down on a bench. Contemplating the past month, he was soon distracted by his hands. Five fingers. Not four or six. This in itself was unusual to him. He stared at them for the longest time - turning them over, back and forth; flexing them - as if human hands were a mystery that needed to be unlocked and he had to puzzle this out.




B. Private Report to Count Dooku [Closed] (short and simple to keep it coded; open to a meeting for further details)

Prometheus - no issue, has good potential

Poltergeist - possible troublemaker but could be useful

Uranus - insubordinate, disrespectful and foolish; should be watched

Comments

[sleight_of_hand]

Adachi was so grateful to be free from the damn hospital, even if it hadn't been a full week, that there was no way he was going to go home and have himself surrounded by more walls. He ended up wandering to the park, coincidentally on the same day as Grievous, and enjoying the sunshine and being able to move around more than just in and out of his bed without a nurse freaking out. It was just his hand, geeze...

It was on his second trip around the park path that he noticed the guy sitting at the table, looking at his hands like he couldn't understand why they were there. For a moment it struck him as funny, but... weren't there some old reports that people that weren't originally human came in as human? It had been awhile since he looked that far back in the network, but if it was true... this poor guy.

He stopped at one of the park stands, getting a cappuccino before going back to the guy, holding it out for him.

"Here," he offered, a weak smile working its way on his face. It probably was a little suspicious that he only got one for the guy and nothing for himself. Hopefully the fact that his arm was entirely covered in a special sling to hide his missing hand would drive away suspicion. "You looked like you could use one."

[generalgrievous]

That voice...

Grievous looked up to see the one he'd recently trained with - well, if you can call some taunting and an accidental dismemberment 'training'. For a moment he was confused about why Adachi was here and he merely glared, his eyes no longer golden but brown.

For a long moment that probably seemed to be longer than it actually was, he didn't speak as if he hadn't understood what he was being offered. There was only that glare.

[sleight_of_hand]

The brown eyes were nice. Granted, the rest of him wasn't his type, if only for being too close to Dojima's age for him to be comfortable with it, but his eyes were very nice. Problem was they were glaring at him at the moment, and Adachi found himself shrinking back slightly. He was just offering the guy a coffee! That was supposed to be the universal ice breaker, wasn't it?!

"U-uh... I-I just... y-you looked a little confused, s-so..."

What'd he do wrong?!

[generalgrievous]

He wasn't recognised. Of course he wasn't. Grievous wasn't sure how well he could pretend here. He wasn't very comfortable in this human guise and that probably showed. Anger had flared at sight of Uranus but it also passed by quicker than it did in his other forms.

He clenched his hands into fists briefly then lowered them to a more relaxed position at his sides.

"I... I do not need it," he rejected the offer of the coffee. He wasn't even sure if he could stomach it.

[sleight_of_hand]

That was... a really weird response, like the guy wasn't even used to how his own mind worked, let alone how the rest of his body did. It was hard to mistake the concern on his face as anything else as Adachi withdrew his offered coffee.

"Are you all right?" he asked softly, completely different from the rude asshole a couple days ago. "I know there are some imPorts that are helping others that got the bad end of the porter stick. I can try and find you a couple names if you need help."

can't resist some mirroring/Constellation counterparting

[candor1]

Most passers by through the park wouldn't notice anything. A military commander could catch on that something was up. Seven humans within the adolescent age range gradually unifying themselves with certain behaviors. Tracking, situational awareness, strategic organization, stealth… the techniques (as a group and in each individual) were extremely varied: no one clear origin or single discipline at play, and highly developed forms mixed with the… extremely informal interchangeably. But eventually all coalesced to a single focus: the man they seemed as a group to have been hunting. And though it took possibly longer than it should have to get to that point, it all finally came into the open in outright combat. …Or rather, sparring. Vicious as it might occasionally seem, obvious again if you knew what to look for that no one was getting or going to get hurt. For those who didn't know what to look for, there was an eighth adolescent who seemed to be part of the group but out of the day's activities for having an arm in a sling, who'd spot any concerned onlookers to engage and explain before they tried to intervene.

It was HOPE's self-defense course's exam day.

The man who was serving as prey/adversary was obviously the teacher. He was older than all the others. And he was better. They were all clearly novices, if showing promise and some surprising instances of early advancement. He was a master. To a trained eye, his abilities were obvious, not only in the skills on display but as a recruiter, trainer, and leader. And in requiring a trained eye to see them through how completely and constantly he downplayed all of them. Even in the thick of it.

Though none of the students managed in the end to bring him down, by them time he gave whatever signal that made them all drop the exercise and gather 'round, he didn't seem to address them as if they'd failed. There were many thoughtful nods and conferrings. Then some outright grins as class was dismissed and the kids scattered, in smaller groups, talking among themselves excitedly.

The teacher didn't have any gear to gather. If anyone had been armed, it had been with an available material, which had been re-scattered at dismissal. But he did come over to the same bench Grievous was on to take off his boot, which had at some point been removed and slammed back on, and shake a few pebbles out of it and pick a thorn out of his foot. (One more unwitting demonstration: he hadn't shown a hint of a limp.)

The teacher, of course, was someone Grievous had met twice before. Though Cassian didn't recognize Grievous in turn.

[generalgrievous]

Grievous had watched some of these goings-on with interest. It reminded him of his recent training sessions, although these youngsters seemed to be taking the entire class much more seriously. The disrespect his own 'students' (of a sort) had shown the General had been very frustrating. Yes, they barely knew him but he believed that they also showed disrespect to Count Dooku in turn by their bad behaviour.

Finally, Cassian approached but the man wasn't coming here for Grievous, obviously. There was some truth in the benefits of this disguise; of being incognito. Maybe not in this case, but he didn't immediately give himself away.

"That was an intriguing display," he spoke up.

[candor1]

Cassian put the shoe back on, leaving it unlaced a moment to sit up straight in acknowledgement of being spoken to—and stretch his shoulders and neck a bit. "Yeah. Extracurricular self-defense course for the school. Sorry if we bothered you."

[generalgrievous]

"It was no bother. Is that your occupation here?"

He knew the man was helpful with information but there had to be other jobs to occupy his time, of course.

[candor1]

Cassian nodded. "For the moment."

Something, or somethings cumulative, was/were starting to give him a sense of déjà vu. …Which, for someone who'd mastered memory enhancement to near eidetic, was… not usual. If he could recognize someone, he did. If he couldn't, it was because he didn't know them, or needed to get to the bottom of a disguise… but at least he could identify the presence of a disguise. It was never this… amorphous.

He tilted his head a bit, not seeming to scrutinize the other (apparent) human; but Grievous's own training would likely be able to tell, that was exactly what he was doing. "…I'm sorry. I'm normally very good at faces." Strategic massive understatement. "Have we met before?"

A

[drivesadesk]

It wasn't much of a surprise that Jonathan would run across Grievous on that particular day, namely because he was in the park, and Jonathan rather enjoyed the park. He'd been going on his daily jog, generally enjoying the sun and the trees and just getting out and exercising when he happened to notice the man sitting there, staring at his hands with far more interest and intent than people usually gave to a part of their body.

Jonathan slowed down, heading over to the man. "Hey, is everything all right? I hope you don't mind me pointing this out, but you seem a bit distracted...by your hands."

Which could mean several things. There could be something wrong with this man's hands, like some sort of pain he was trying to figure out, or maybe he wasn't used to having human hands. Of course, not everyone was an import and not everything was aliens, so Jonathan didn't want to make any assumptions.

Of course, while Jonathan did not recognize Grievous, Grievous might notice that Jonathan's skin suit has been completely repaired since the last time they saw each other.

[generalgrievous]

He lowered his hands as he looked over to see who was speaking. Another that he recognised, this time from the swearing-in event with those horrible bugs. The memory made him grimace but he didn't yet give a sign of recognition.

What could he say? How could he explain such a distraction?

"I was merely... thinking," he finally said in a carefully measured way, almost as if speaking, too, was not something he was used to.

[drivesadesk]

Well, wasn't that interesting? Something had to be up. Jonathan took a seat on the bench right next to the guy with absolutely no regard for whether or not the man was comfortable having a stranger plop right next to him.

"Thinking? About what? Because I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you seem really disoriented."

[generalgrievous]

"Why is this any of your business?"

The reply was tense and guarded but he didn't get as angry as the cyborg usually may have at the proximity and questioning.

[drivesadesk]

"Oh, it's not," he said, seeming to have no problem with this fact. "But I don't see people looking like they're seeing their hands for the first time every day, so I was curious."

B

[dun_moch]

[The response comes back swiftly.]

Report to my home at your earliest convenience. I wish to discuss this session with you in person.

[He wants details. He senses there is more to Grievous' training than this little report conveys.]

[generalgrievous]

Sending a message back when he was on his way, Grievous went to the Count's house for his second visit. Of course there was much more to say and doing so privately face-to-face was the best way to take care of such covert matters.

He decided to arrive in his usual cyborg form. Some internal urge told him that this was for the best when dealing with Dooku. It felt right to show himself like that in this case. As if it was an official uniform that he had to put on to make the best impression.

Once he was allowed inside, he formally greeted Dooku with a polite bow. "My Lord. There is much to discuss."

[dun_moch]

Dooku, ever the walking cliche, received Grievous with his back turned. He was looking out a window at nothing and everything when the General entered, arms folded behind his back. He was not wearing his cape for once, but was still dressed in his customary black outfit from their own universe.

"Yes, I am sure there is," the Count intoned before turning around. "I have already had my doubts about Uranus. He has always been insolent, but his impudence and his power have both been growing lately. I want to know everything about your training with him."

[generalgrievous]

"Of course, my Lord," Grievous replied graciously and began to give a brief run down of the events.

"He began with insults then continued with even more disrespectful insults before he mentioned you by name. I thought at first there must be some mistake that he was allowed within this organization as I had spoken with him when I arrived and he was not any more helpful there..," he paused a moment with a low growl. "Then he called you... paranoid... before boasting of his own detecting and sharpshooting skills. He did not prove these claims, however, going on to dismantle any weapon he was given without actually using them. I then went to test his skills at evasion and he did not wish to comply or co-operate with any training, saying that we should merely say that we had done so."

He frowned with disapproval before continuing. "I told him to choose a weapon so we could train but he kept refusing, trying to kick me instead then insulted any other weapons you had so graciously provided for our sessions. He continued to verbally provoke me so I took action and gave him a challenge with my lightsaber. He proved how useless he was by blundering into the blade and losing a hand," he had been actively attempting to not hit Adachi - at least that's how he looked at it but anyone might have had trouble dodging that flurry of strikes. "After this, in desperation, he used some witchcraft to summon a creature from fire. He sent it to attack me with blades and spikes of ice. I do not think he is at all suitable in his attitude," he concluded. "And his skills are lacking."

[dun_moch]

"You took his hand?" Dooku pursed his lips as though Grievous had just said a bad word. However clumsy Adachi was- and Dooku viewed him as highly clumsy- the Count had spent far too long training Grievous in the sword to accept any accidental dismemberments from him. Such an incident reflected poorly on Dooku's own teaching methods, and was therefore unacceptable.

"General, the members of this organization are far more useful to me when they have all their limbs," he admonished with a raised finger. "No matter how foolish they are, I expect you to be capable of not harming them any more than you intend. I hope you will keep that in mind in any future training exercises."

He lowered his finger, and refolded his hands behind his back. As far as he was concerned, the matter was settled. Although he would definitely have to follow up with Adachi, to determine whether his injury had made him less or more insubordinate. "Now then, this creature he summoned. Describe it to me. And tell me how you were able to defeat it."

The thought that Adachi and his strange new ally could have actuallly beaten Grievous never crossed the Count's mind.

a!

[knaval]

Riptide, also in his human form - a very tall, very lanky looking young adult - is in somewhat of the same situation as Grievous. A human form that's weaker than his original form that he doesn't really want. It's just really by chance he sees Grievous staring at his hands.

Something he'd done, too. It's a look he notices, so he decides to say hi.

"Weird, isn't it? I don't really like human hands. Not enough bendy bits."

[generalgrievous]

"So you are not... usually this way?" He asked as he looked to the man approaching him. It was an intriguing thought, actually. Maybe there were more aliens here than there first appeared to be - they were just all in this disguise of humanity, all to blend in with the general population.

He supposed that did make sense.

[knaval]

"Hell no! I hate being stupid and squishy! Humans don't even have radios in their heads, what's all that about, huh?"

He baps the side of his own head, pouting.

"You know, I've been alive for almost four million years and I've never been this uncomfortable before."

[generalgrievous]

That sounded like an exaggeration to him. Who lived for that long, really? But he didn't argue the point.

"Radios? Do you mean some sort of transmitter or communicators?"

[knaval]

"Yeah. I usually have one in my head. Organics don't, though. I feel like I'm blind and deaf."