02 - Piracy is sentimental with salty bits

[freearcadia]

[Learning in the Vaults]

[Harlock is attending a lesson on how Ether-driven ships work, taking very copious notes, though it's clear some of the more technical terminology being used is beyond his current language skills, phonetically writing down the words with question marks as he also roughly sketches out the parts, murmuring under his breath.

Once the classes clear, he waves people down]

Pardon, would you mind helping me go over my notes?

[Flotsam Taverns cw: alcohol, implied alcoholism]

[It's well past sundown, and the moon is high - the hour is so late that the mood in the bar - The Dancing Skipjack - is undergoing a seachange from rowdy carousing to melancholy and sentimentality. A dwarf with a concertina had just finished a shanty about how the dangers of sea monster hunting is worth it for the village boy waiting for the sailor on shore. A few patrons left, but others not done yet are calling out for someone else to sing.

Meanwhile, Harlock was sitting at a small table, apparently drinking since he sat down, and yet seemingly as sober as a temperance judge, humming softly before he glances up upon sensing someone approaching, before letting out a sound of assent, inviting the person to join him at the table, even as the call for more songs continue.]

I hope you don't mind shanties, it seems like everyone's looking for a little song tonight.

[Locked to Donatello, not long after the mission end]

[Harlock's thoughts turned over the raid, they did well, much better than he anticipated but there could've been more done, difference choices, but right now - he was more concerned how Donatello was holding up - the pirate has seen his share of first battle shocks. It's a reminder to him that while he's used to this, many aren't.

When he finds the turtlekin, he waits for a moment, before calling out]

How are you holding up?

Wildcard

[hit me up at RShini if you want to plot, or just throw something and see if it sticks]

Comments

[freearcadia]

[Harlock wasn't going to push if it seemed like Donnie was really not up to talk. When the Turtlekin spoke up again, the man pauses in mid-step, glancing over his shoulder, before positioning himself to catch the bundle, giving it a curious look over, a glove thumb running over the materials.]

You did good out there.

[There's a genuine acknowledgement in his voice, even as his general pitch remained quiet and even.]

[purplexing]

[Donnie blinks at that, unable to keep from smiling at that, faint as it might be. Praise goes a long way with him, and after...well, everything, he's glad to hear anything positive, especially when it came down to his performance.]

[freearcadia]

[The smile is encouraging, and his own lips tugged upwards slightly as he finds a place to sit]

Nobody can anticipate everything in the heat of things, the cosmos knows how many close calls I've had. But the fact we saved quite a few lives I think is proof of how well we did despite the confusion.

[purplexing]

[There's a few crates nearby. A long forgotten bottle of water sits on one of them. Donnie's turned back towards the armor, seeing if there's anything immediate he can spy that needs removal without having to dive in again just yet.]

...yeah, kind of realized that. But I guess with that many factors operating independently on top of environmental circumstances, no one can really anticipate how anything will go.

[freearcadia]

[And he's glad Donnie wasn't hurt, though he was consciously aware it could've been worse - if he hadn't reacted on instinct... but he pushed that thought aside, going over the maybes is useless, he spends enough time in his head as is. The human notes the water bottle, if he's anything like the engineers and mechanics he knew - he might need a hydration reminder.]

That's unfortunately the nature of battle, instincts, training, they help but nothing is ever simple.

[purplexing]

[The boy's a workaholic by nature, he definitely needs a reminder for a lot of things, and when he's using his work as a distraction, he's more prone to forgetting about the basics.]

Mm.

[He sticks his hand back into the open panel, fishing around for the cable that had caught his eye.]

It's...a lot different than training...

[freearcadia]

Training never comes close to the real thing, your body, your instincts will learn - but it never trains your mind.

[Nothing does, he thinks, he's perhaps more jaded than most, but even he had his moments, ghosts of regrets, close calls. Harlock watches idly, before lean to take in the full shape of the mecha, it reminded him of comics, but such things to him had seemed too impractical for real life.]

Hey, is this bottle yours?

[The pirate piped up after it looked like Donnie had found and tamed the errant cable - he didn't directly ask if he needed a water break - least in his experience, young men tend to resent being fussed over too overtly]

[purplexing]

[The turtlekin's shoulders hunch up just a touch. He doesn't like the implication that it's not something you might ever get used to, but then it's probably better not to get used to. And yet he knows the likelihood that he'll end up in another fight will be high, so really, where is the level that you can hope to shoot for without tipping too far over?]

Huh?

[Pulled from his thoughts, Donnie looks back down, blinking as it takes him a moment to even register what the man is talking about. That's...probably as good an indication as any that he should maybe take a break.]

Oh. Yeah, let me just...

[He tugs at the cable, trying to estimate how much of it he's got left to coil before he sighs and forces himself to set it aside. Hydration is probably a good call.

Slowly Donnie shifts his legs around so he can scale back down the armor, wincing a little at the change of position. Who knows how long he's been hunched up. He almost falls on his face once he reaches the bottom, foot catching on one of the already bundled cables.]

[freearcadia]

[He's up when the turtlekin nearly falls, recognizing the tell-tale signs of limbs falling asleep even on a non humanoid anatomy. Harlock puts a hand out, a silent offer to help him steady himself]

You alright there?

[purplexing]

[Donnie windmills his arms before he catches a hand on the one Harlock offers him, grimacing. He pulls his foot out of the cables before hesitantly releasing Harlock's hand as he checks his balance. Rolling back his shoulders, he stretches his arms and his back out, which at least is an easier thing to do when you have a soft shell as opposed to hard one.]

Ow, ow, ow. Yeah, I'll live. This is nothing new.

[freearcadia]

[He keeps steady until Donnie steadies himself]

Least you didn't fall asleep mid-fix. How did you get into mechanics in the first place?

[purplexing]

[Donnie doesn't linger any longer than he has to. He sweeps up his bottle in hand, moving to lean against the crate like it's a casual thing and not at all because he doesn't want to have to trouble the guy if his legs end up not wanting to cooperate.]

Ha-ha-ha- actually yeah, that would've been bad.

[At least he hasn't felt exhausted (yet). He takes a long drink from his water bottle. Aaaaah~ It's amazing what a little water can do.]

My dad would bring back some things during his...supply runs to Elysium. Old clocks, simple toys with gears... I'd take them apart, they were like puzzles, but sometimes a thing wasn't working so I'd try to figure out what it was, and then I found out I could use some of the parts from one thing to substitute for whatever was broken or missing from others.

[freearcadia]

[...Right, he should probably drink something that isn't distilled at some point today.]

You'd be surprised how often I've seen that.

[Harlock settles back onto the crate, the arch of his foot resting on the edge of it as he listens, catching the hesitation in 'supply runs' - that is very familiar in his line of work.]

Sounds a bit like my eternal friend, except he did not make sure the things he's taking apart was not still in use... in fairness, I also did not check if anyone was using it when he ask me to get something either.

[purplexing]

[Well, technically they were still supply runs. Donnie actually didn't know how much of it was by use of actual currency although he suspected his father had some savings from his previous line of work. Otherwise he didn't really think that taking castoff items as theft.

But then that's what caused all Donnie's trouble in the first place, and he's still not entirely sure who to be mad at about it.]

...sometimes it doesn't really make a big difference. People are weird about what they consider personal property...

[freearcadia]

Sometimes I think possessions can make people act funny.

[There's always a push and pull between that, of course given what he does - Harlock felt he shouldn't be making any absolute statements on the concept of ownership.]

He has always been interested with ancient machinery, how they were made, and tried to copy the methods when he was pulling things apart and putting them together.

Sounds like your dad does support your interest.

[purplexing]

Right? If they threw it out then there shouldn't be a big deal about anyone else taking it.

[His expression sours and he pulls in a breath before breathing out a frustrated sigh. Ranting isn't going to chance the situation nor the past. He grips his water bottle tighter before taking another, if more reluctant sip.]

...that's the best way to learn about how things work, I think. That's how I learned anyway. [He wonders what kind of person Harlock's friend is. Sounded like a guy Donnie could get along with.]

I don't know. I guess? He didn't discourage it, anyway. And I was able to put together things we could make use of so... It made things easier for us.

...

[But if they broke down then who'd fix them now?]

[freearcadia]

I agree - there is only so much you can learn from reading or watching, but I don't seem to have the same knack for machinery like him. Or you.

[Fighting, piloting, sketching, those he can do. While he can do some repairs - with hours of multilingual swearing and bloody knuckles, but he can't design or make things from pieces. He let himself fall silent, melancholy crossing his own mind]

[purplexing]

I guess it just depends on how things click. Everything has to come together just right. It's like some really complex puzzles, and one thing out of place just affects everything else.

[It's easier to talk about things like this, so straight forward and without too many emotions attached. But it's harder to hold a conversation when the other person lapses. Donnie is by no means very good about picking up on emotional cues but it's weird when someone who's been talking about something so freely goes quiet, and that much he can connect with his similar experiences.]

...Harlock..?

[freearcadia]

Sorry, it's been a while since I talked like this.

[The man quietly admits, resting his hands on his raised knee]

But that makes sense, just people are better at different types of puzzle.

[purplexing]

[Donnie blinks before nodding a little. That much, he supposes he can understand. It's hard enough talking about people whom you were close to, people who you haven't seen for so long. The thought brings an all too familiar and unpleasant feeling in his chest. He tries to distract himself by finishing off his water.]

Mn.

[freearcadia]

[He pursed his lips, fingers reaching for something that isn't around his neck anymore, before they curled into the palm of his hand, looking about before falling upon the armor proper.]

You know... where I am from, armor like that didn't exist outside of...

[There's no word for Manga here, is there? Not like the interrogators would be discussing their reading preferences with him]

Picture books.

[Oh good thing Yattaran isn't here, he might be upset to hear manga reduced to such a term]

[purplexing]

Picture books..? Oh, you mean like...stories?

[It doesn't quite help with distancing himself from memories of his family. He can remember how when he and his brothers were tiny turtle tots, all curled up in their father's lap as he told them stories from a book filled with pictures. There had been no words, but that had been just fine, because between their father's words, the pictures and their imaginations, they thought of far-off, fanciful places.]

I'd only heard about them a little. Dad would talk about them like they were just things out of stories... But I never thought I'd be able to actually see one, let alone learn how they work. When I joined the Corsairs, they let me watch others when they were working on them, and show me how things went together and the parts that were the most important...

Maybe one day I'll actually get to pilot one.

[freearcadia]

Yes, something like that.

[Being a kid hiding under the covers with a flashlight because he didn't want to go to sleep, sometimes alone, sometimes while staying at Tochiro's place while his father was who knows where.]

Machines like that, they were common in such stories, but they were never taken seriously, impractical, silly, that kind of thing. Never thought I'd see the real thing. Though I don't see why you shouldn't get to pilot one of these.

[...Now he wondered if they'll fit in the Arcadia's hangar.]

[purplexing]

...

[He looks a little conflicted as he studies the armor before them.]

I don't know if I'd be ready for that. I...thought I was ready for a real battle but I kept freezing up at the worst times. If I'm in one of those, I can't be doing that...

[freearcadia]

Nobody is ever truly ready for their first battle, and your concerns are valid.

[He follows the the curvature of the armor, wondering how it'd actually move. At Donnie's words, he tilts his head as so he can see him.]

As to whether that will happen again, well - I can say that tends to happen less the more experience you have. As for the future, only your heart can tell you where you're meant to go - either piloting one of these, or making sure that whoever does will return safe and in one piece.