annexedlogs | Relief Log #1

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Relief Log #1

I. In The Aftermath

After the mission is complete, the new recruits are invited back to Central Command for a patch-up and celebration to let loose and socialize a little bit.

The first order of business is the patching up. Anyone who was injured is welcome to go to the Hospital, if the injuries are more serious. Everyone else, those with smaller injuries like scrapes and bruises, minor cuts or burns or abrasions, are welcome to come to the Infirmary in Central Command. There will also be attendants that tell returning new recruits that if they'd like to learn a little first aid and tend to their comrades, they can also head to the Infirmary.

In the Infirmary, anyone who's not injured but shows up will be instructed in basic first aid so they can tend to their teammates and friends. Nurses will be rotating around to check in on people and make sure nothing is more serious than it looks, but generally, the new recruits will be encouraged to tend to their teammates in order to encourage group bonding.

II. Pool Party

The celebration itself, which happens after the the initial patching-up exercise, will be happening in three large conference rooms adjacent to the swimming pool. In one of the conference rooms, a large buffet will be set up, catered by food trucks and restaurants in the area, with a variety of food. Some of it will be familiar to characters in the game, with a wide array of food from Earth and any other planet or locale that the new recruits might be from. Some of it will be unfamiliar, local cuisines that are heavy on mushrooms, insects, and root vegetables - stews and flatbreads full of fillings and a lot of varieties of meat on a stick. There's also an extensive dessert bar with cakes, cookies, tarts, donuts, bars, and a soft-serve ice cream machine with a lot of different mix-ins and toppings.

The main focus of the party is on the pool, where characters are encouraged to put on a swimsuit and lounge in the pool on a bunch of assorted pool floats, swim laps, or play in the small children's pool where there are fountains. The pool also sports a small waterslide with three intertwining slides that range from extreme speed to slow speed. Through speakers in the area, music is playing that's suitable for dancing or just listening to while characters enjoy the pool.

III. For The Extroverts

In another of the conference rooms, an extrovert's dream is set up. The door is kept closed because the music inside is loud, and the atmosphere is that of a club. There's a small bar area where a bartender serves drinks. While most of the drinks are regular alcoholic beverages that are both familiar and unfamiliar, there is a selection of drinks catered by Robin's, which is known for their specialty cocktails which have a variety of effects - specifically, euphoria, relaxation, and energy - available in a variety of flavors. Servers move through the room with trays of snacks ranging from nuts and olives to bowls of chips and popcorn, free for the taking by anyone feeling peckish.

There is a nice dance floor set up and the lights are low except for fluorescents and spotlights that bathe the room in bright color, and the DJ is playing a mix of techno, rave music, and danceable oldies remixes. Along the back wall there are several booths set up for karaoke, where groups of characters can go and sing their hearts out and/or laugh at their friends who are singing their hearts out.

Did that mission leave you wanting to get wasted and dance the night away? Then this is the party for you.

IV. For The Introverts

Not everyone is cut out for a rave, though, especially not after a tiring and draining mission, and the rebels have prepared for that too.

In the other conference room, just on the other side of the buffet room, there is a party set up for the more sort of person who finds solace in quiet and peace. In the corner of the room there's a lovely tea and coffee bar set up, with an espresso and latte machine, coffee, and a truly expansive variety of teas - white, green, black, rooiboos, herbal, and some local varieties that are made specifically to relieve tension and relax the mind. These local varieties can produce a state of utter relaxation and mental calm that is beyond what normal tea could provide, perfect to drink before going to sleep for the night, or right before a calming nap.

Speaking of naps, for those who don't want to be alone but would like a bit of shut-eye, there are soft bean bag loungers where people can retire to for naps. The music playing in the room is quiet and soothing, lyrical ballads or instrumental easy listening, easy to nap through and no barrier to quiet conversation over a cup of tea. The library has also provided a large shelf of readable popular novels, non-fiction, and other books that might interest the new arrivals - there are novels of most genres that are unique to the Broken World, and research materials for anyone looking to exercise the mind or learn a little about the culture of their new world.

Besides that, there are also a cluster of small tables where games are set up. There are board games, decks of cards with printed sheets of common game rules from the Broken World, and a type of chess-like game that is played frequently on the Broken World, complete with instructions.

NAVIGATION

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"That said, the bar was a definite improvement over the pool. Thank you for suggesting we go out. Sometimes... I become so fixated on what is wrong, that I neglect to notice or appreciate what is right." After walking for some time on the paved path, Rokuro picks his way over to the grass. Softer on the feet, and pleasantly damp with evening dew.

Rokuro is beginning to see the blurry glow of the barracks. Their home away from home. It's nothing like Ueda Castle, and nowhere near as comfortable, or familiar, but it's better than nothing.

"There is a type of pottery where I am from, where pieces are broken and the repairs are highlighted with gold, rather than hidden. It is my Master's favourite. He says there is nothing so beautiful or unique as imperfection, and that an inability to see as much speaks to a lack of imagination--" Tipsy, sandaled heels dangling from his fingertips, and clothes somewhat askew, Rokuro can't help but wonder what his master would think of him now. At least there's nobody milling outside of the building to judge them.

"I do not think I'm unimaginative, I simply view things differently, as I--" WHACK. Rokuro apparently doesn't see things at all, because he just walked face-first into the double glass doors leading into the barracks lobby.

"Granted we stayed longer than we may have meant to..." Tech can't help but mention. "But such is a common thing, to notice what stands out most to you and forget about the other side of things."

He listens, genuinely interested as Rokuro describes this art of reappreciating the broken. His thoughts drift slightly, partially hung up on imperfections as he can't help but think of the label of his squad, defective as they were called. Absently he nods, remembering to pay attention- which is just when Rokuro suddenly smacks into the glass doors. The abruptness startles him into focus, even though he can't help but stare, stunned, for a moment as what happened sinks in.

"-Rokuro?" he finally manages to say, hands reaching out to steady him by his shoulders as the glass doors slide open.

Hopefully Tech has an appreciation for the imperfect, or Rokuro is going to be out of a friend and partner sooner than later. For a moment he is entirely stiff and still, not unlike an unlucky one-eyed bird who has flown into a window and stunned itself.

"I..." He lifts a hand to wipe his now bloody nose, and simply falls silent. It's been a long night. He's drunk, his face hurts, and he is officially over technology. At least he can muster the energy to shake Tech off, stand on his own two feet (though one of the heels has been dropped and temporarily forgotten in the 'scuffle') and trudge into the lobby-- except in the time it's taken him to come round, the doors have closed again.

There's less of an impact the second time around, because he didn't have the time or distance to gain speed, but twice as much humiliation. Rokuro drops the second heel to bring both hands to his face, and for a too-long moment its impossible to tell if he is seething or crying.

It would have been easier to respond to if Rokuro was outright seething. As it is, Tech's left standing there awkwardly as he watches, unsure of how to approach this, save for the same caution one might use around a landmine. Eventually he stoops down to pick up the man's shoes before kneeling beside him.

"Come on," he says softly. "We're nearly there." He offers a hand, and if taken, will also position himself between the offending door once it opens again.

Rokuro takes Tech's hand and climbs unsteadily to his feet. Unsure of which hurts more. His face, or his pride. At least there's enough alcohol in his system that he can't be too acutely aware of either. The bruises and regret are a problem for tomorrow Rokuro. Present Rokuro is entirely consumed with the task of not crying whilst avoiding doors.

This is nowhere near the worst pain he has felt, in comparison to the abuse his body takes with every use of his power it's barely a blip on the radar-- not that Rokuro has any concept of what radar is. What's really getting him is the exhaustion and overwhelming helplessness he feels too often in this strange land. Every day is a battle in what feels like an endless war.

His fingers squeeze around Tech's fingers, as if he's afraid the clone might let go once they cross the threshold.

This is a different sort of reliance than what he's been used to. Tech's unused to someone both seemingly delicate and a pillar of stone, and who fluctuates in intensities like the endless seas of Kamino. But in other ways Rokuro also reminds him of someone else he and his brothers have been learning their way around and getting to know. Someone to look out for.

Feeling Rokuro's fingers tighten slightly around his own, Tech hesitates before letting his hand remain holding Rokuro's as he guides them inside.

Shoeless, bleeding from the nose, and only a breath away from crying, Rokuro looks the picture of someone who has partied way too hard, so he shouldn't stand out too much from other rebels crawling back to their rooms after a (too) eventful night on the town.

Head down, Rokuro isn't really paying attention to where they are going, more concerned with putting one foot in front of the other as Tech leads him to safety. So much for 'relief'. If anything, Rokuro might be in worse shape than he started. And now he's in his head, worrying about the scene he may have caused both in the bar and outside of it, and whether or not he ruined Tech's chance to relax by being so troublesome.

"I am sorry." Almost too quietly. If they were anywhere other than a near-empty hallway it's unlikely Tech would hear him.

Now that they're in a more familiar place, Tech lets his feet carry him automatically. Now that they're indoors again he feels like everything's slightly muted, probably due to muddled perceptions. However the quiet that's fallen between him and Rokuro doesn't go unnoticed.

And so quiet are the words that come up that Tech almost wonders that he imagined it. He glances at Rokuro, blinking.

"For what? There is nothing to apologize for."

"Taking up so much of your time and energy while providing very little of value in return." Rokuro stays looking away from Tech, so he can wipe away a stray tear from his blood streaked cheek with his free hand. Still holding onto Tech with the other. He isn't crying. His eye is just leaking. Because he's drunk and he slammed face-first into a door. Twice.

Nothing to do with how small and foolish he feels now that they've reached the exhausted and emotional stage of their drinking bender. With high highs come low lows. Especially where copious amounts of sugar, tequila, and maraschino cherries are involved. If either of them were skilled at the art of bar-hopping, they would have gotten snacks to fill their bellies so the drinks didn't hit so hard.

"I... am lucky to have a friend like you."

The gesture isn't lost on Tech, not that he knows what to do with someone crying. He quickly turns his attention frontward, giving Rokuro what space he can. No tears seen here, not at all.

"That's not true. We both decided to go to have a drink, made an understandable mistake, and sought to correct it in a manner that did not involve violence. It was... an interesting time." There was a strange sort of satisfaction in proving themselves. But all that bravado is gone. It's just them.

Tech's pace slows at Rokuro's admission then, not that he'd been going very fast to begin with. A friend... That's something he's never had anyone say to him directly. It's not something he's really give much thought to, but then his identity has been largely wrapped together with his squad, and what little they identified as friends saw them as a whole at best. His hand tightens just slightly around Rokuro's.

"...thank you... for being my friend," he says quietly, looking back at Rokuro.

How is it possible to be so different and still so much the same?

Anyone just looking at them would struggle to find any similarity in appearance, behaviour, or skill-- because what they share is a deeper, less obvious experience. A life devoted to those they were born to serve, and the deep loneliness that follows. No spouses. No children. No friends. Only siblings, comrades, and the work. All chosen for them before they even entered the world.

Something shifts in Rokuro when Tech returns the sentiment. Or maybe it breaks. Regardless, the single tear multiplies into many more, until Rokuro is silently sobbing behind his arm. Trembling, white-knuckled fingers clasped too tightly around Tech's hand.

A tired veteran rebel passes by, definitely eyeing these two weirdoes having a Moment in the barracks hall. It's probably not that unusual to see the newbies having mental breakdowns, though usually they've still got their shoes on and aren't holding hands.

"Get a room." Whose room are they near, anyway?

Edited 2022-09-21 05:03 (UTC)

The response from Rokuro is even more baffling. Tech keeps them walking, unsure how to connect these delicate lines of emotion that still seem so far out of his grasp. He doesn't think it's a bad response, although he's also slowly losing feeling in his hand.

At least he can redirect his attention from the growing awkwardness of the silence that's once again started to settle between them. "Already been assigned them," he replies curtly, not even bothering to look after the veteran as he continues forth.

...and stops at the door of his room, pausing. Well, this is what you get when you're on autopilot. "-oh."

In some ways, it's best that Tech doesn't say anything. Rokuro doesn't need words right now. There's no stopping the emotions welling up from deep inside of him. All he can really do is wade through the thick of them. With Tech holding his hand, Rokuro doesn't fear drowning.

"O-Oh?" He finally looks up, slowly realizing they aren't on his floor, never mind in front of his room. "Oh." A hard swallow, and Rokuro finally relinquishes his grasp of Tech's fingers. Hand falling empty back to his side.

"Apologies... It seems I completely neglected to ask where you're quartered," Tech sighs, running a hand across his face. He looks back at Rokuro finally, a bit concerned by the response, perhaps.

"Well, since we're here, I can at least offer you a chance to clean up, and we can rest a moment before we look for your room," he suggests, moving to open the door for them, looking back at Rokuro as he steps aside. "It might be a little cluttered..."

It's not really that bad. There's quite of bit of random parts and things he's been scavenging but they're at least kept to boxes or on the desk with a few tools for whatever he's been attempting to work on. They haven't been here too long for there to be any real progress in bigger projects, but he's certainly been keeping busy.

Rokuro won't argue against being invited inside. It's not as if he has anywhere more pressing, or desirable, to be. Tech's room is a little messy (by Rokuro's standards), and somehow that makes it more comfortable than his own entirely spartan space. Empty of personality except for a singular electric kettle.

He leans down to remove his shoes at the door, only to remember he isn't wearing them, and so he does his best to wipe his feet off on the generic entrance mat.

"W-What is all this?" In regards to the many bits and bobs. He catches a distorted reflection of himself in the nearest metallic surface, and can see why the clone suggested he clean up. Rokuro looks like he got in a fight with an automatic door and lost. Blood and tears streak down his cheeks, pale from exhaustion and ruddy from crying. Wiping at his face with the back of his sleeve only serves to smear the mess around.

On the positive side, he doesn't feel the need to fight said reflective surface in defense of his soul. Rokuro still keeps the mirrors within his unit covered at night, but he is no longer paranoid of his tea kettle and every other shiny metallic object.

Tech steps in after, closing the door behind him. It's good to be back in a familiar space, where he anticipates he'll be miserable come morning.

"Hm? Oh. Not much of anything yet, really," he admits as he goes to put some of his things down. He's probably the only one who carried his tablet to the festivities to do work. "They're mostly random parts that look like they're still functional, so I hope to repurpose them."

He glances over. "I assume the layout of things isn't too different from your own. The washroom's over there," he says, nodding in said direction. "I can get us some water in the meantime." Water will probably be a good thing, if maybe a little late.

The only reason Rokuro didn't bring his tablet is because he intended to spend most of his day poolside, learned from the last mission that electronics and water don't mix.

"Repurpose them into what?" Still curious, in spite of the emotion and intoxication. A lifetime of reading and recording secrets has a way of making someone nosy. "Perhaps you can regale me when I return."

They both know how much Tech likes to talk about his Stuff, and all the Stuff he intends to do with said Stuff. Rokuro leaves Tech's well-organized junkyard for the bathroom. He isn't so far past his superstitions that he's comfortable freshening up without hanging a towel over the mirror, but he no longer startles when presented with a near-perfect reflection.

Rokuro starts washing his face and hands in the sink, and upon realizing the rest of him is more dirty than clean, takes a shower instead. Water will always have a soothing quality to him, and the warmth of the spray feels like it's washing every ugly, messy, and imperfect down the drain. There are few things more satisfying than a hot shower after a long night, and maybe he loses track of time for a little while.

Eventually, Rokuro emerges clean, slightly pink, and wrapped in a thick terrycloth robe, looking far more relaxed than he entered. To the point he has yet to rewrap the bandages over his right eye. When he looks at Tech, his gaze is half-crimson half-chalcedony stone.

"I hope you do not mind-- I saw you had to yet to use the dressing robe, and my own clothing was in a state. I will launder it with the rest of your linens in the morning."

"Equipment," is Tech's introductory response. "That might be more useful for any upcoming missions." He nods, knowing he can get into much detail so it's wise of Rokuro to forestall it. As Rokuro heads into the bathroom, Tech gets himself a glass of water and downs it, setting aside another for Rokuro.

He hears the sound of the shower going off and isn't too surprised, nor is he bothered as he figures one doesn't sound so bad after everything. Walking over to his makeshift workspace, he drops into his chair, looking over the spread of parts, trying to swim through his foggy mind to recall where he'd left off.

When Rokuro finally steps out, he'll find the clone dozed off in his seat, head resting over an arm on the table.

Rokuro is startled to leave the bathroom and find Tech asleep. The clone is always thinking, moving, and doing. That Tech has turned his personal space into a workshop did not come as any real surprise. He doesn't seem to rest of his own accord, only stopping when necessary, or because the people around him aren't able to keep up. Rokuro included.

He is quiet, padding barefoot across the room to remove a light blanket from the surface of Tech's bed and drape it over the Clone's shoulders. Sleeping upright isn't the most comfortable of positions, but given Tech's body has decided enough is enough, Rokuro isn't about to challenge it.

If the clone doesn't wake, he will turn the light off, carefully, without so much as a click, and take a seat upon the nearby couch. A few minutes of listening to the clone breathe in the dark of a safe, already familiar space, and Rokuro drifts off almost as easily.

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Relief Log #1

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