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trans_92010-07-09 10:18 pm
standaloneshell.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-07-09 10:18 pm
Proving Ground [ Open To All ]
The sensoriums made for a convenient training ground for all the right reasons, but most of all because they allowed Motoko to cheat. It hardly seemed fair for the world around to be controlled by whatever constituted the strongest mind, or the most established, but on these proving grounds, as ever, fairness was not part of the equation.
The world was a sleepy summer day, warm with cicada song and dry, ragged grass, knee-high in places, scorched to the earth in others. An abandoned, decrepit skeleton of a Soviet military base dominated the landscape, dotted here and there with holes like dark hollow eyes among the crumbling walls and roofless, exposed innards. Once, this place had been alive, and now it was as bleached as bones in the grass, as nature retook what man had conquered.
Here and there the rusted-out remains of tanks slumped where they had been abandoned. Red paint, incongruously fresh, marked a series of them as targets at the far end of a carefully 'makeshift' firing range, though most sat aimlessly, unmarked and unattended. The place nearest the door was dominated by one such tank, perhaps in slightly better repair than the others, and perched upon it was the reason for all the fuss and trials. Major Kusanagi folded her arms and leaned her back against the treads, casting a sidelong look at what was left of Section Nine.
It was going to be a long day.
[ OOC:Wait for Subthreads, please. OKAY, GO GO GO GO! ]
The world was a sleepy summer day, warm with cicada song and dry, ragged grass, knee-high in places, scorched to the earth in others. An abandoned, decrepit skeleton of a Soviet military base dominated the landscape, dotted here and there with holes like dark hollow eyes among the crumbling walls and roofless, exposed innards. Once, this place had been alive, and now it was as bleached as bones in the grass, as nature retook what man had conquered.
Here and there the rusted-out remains of tanks slumped where they had been abandoned. Red paint, incongruously fresh, marked a series of them as targets at the far end of a carefully 'makeshift' firing range, though most sat aimlessly, unmarked and unattended. The place nearest the door was dominated by one such tank, perhaps in slightly better repair than the others, and perched upon it was the reason for all the fuss and trials. Major Kusanagi folded her arms and leaned her back against the treads, casting a sidelong look at what was left of Section Nine.
It was going to be a long day.
[ OOC:
[ Entrances ]
Perhaps he was one of the less well-equipped combatants in this situation, hobbling into the Sensoriums on a crutch with an overcoat covering his exhausted shoulders, red backpack slung precariously over one of them so that he leaned awkwardly with each labored shuffle. His eyes were set on where he wanted to go, his steps were deliberate if not arrhythmic; but frankly Dustin was never the most fit or the best suited for heavy exercise and hand-to-hand combat, and thus this was nothing new. A bit inconvenient, yes, but nothing new.
Dustin stopped short of the tank, leaning heavily as he gave Motoko an equally weighted glance, unmoving and undeterred.
“You called?”
Re: [ Entrances ]
"Should you be in med bay?"
Re: [ Entrances ]
“They released me. Finally got tired of having me around,” Dustin blinked, deadpan but not provoking—or so he hoped in the case of the Major, “Besides, I can walk, and I figured you missed me.”
Re: [ Entrances ]
"So you're a masochist," She pointed out, almost casually, if not for the artificially intensity of her stare, "You've got three minutes to get to the shooting range."
Re: [ Entrances ]
Dustin sniffed, mildly amused but obviously in a way that he didn’t want to showcase, choosing to ignore that first statement in favor of answering the second one. If he was lucky then the Major would forget about it and, therefore, would run no risk of bringing it up around Yoshimi (whose response would probably be to giggle rudely, blush, and slink away before any further inquiries could be addressed). He nodded curtly. “I’ll be there in a minute forty-five.”
Hobble. Hobble.