🟆001🟆

[71lines]

Who: Tenten and You
What: Various
Where: Varying
When: After a few days have passed.
Warnings/Notes: None so far.

1. Part of training involves firearms training. Jorgmund is, at least, intelligent enough to know that not everyone deals with slugthrowers on their homeworlds, so they've set out an array to try out. Assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, etc. Everyone's given a basic rundown and scored at the end of each day. The scores, they're told, don't mean anything. It's just for bragging rights. The only reason anyone might swallow that is because no one's caught the range crew laying down their bets yet.
   
   So far, Armstrong has the highest. That may be because he went first and Cayde-6 hasn't stepped up to bat, though.
   
   The New Hires are taken to the range in small groups, to more easily control them. Two to four at a time, only whenever there's a gap in the regular Rig crew's training. When they go in, the range master makes a comment about forgetting some paperwork and slips out, locking the door behind him. The other range personnel are making themselves busy. Tenten, in the meantime, is peering at the firearms with a critical eye. She picks up a pistol and flips it over in her hands a few times, testing the moving parts. Trigger. Slidey bit. Switch for something there.
   
   She frowns, then looks down the barrel, thumb pressed against the trigger. Was there something that was supposed to happen inside when the trigger was pulled? How was an arrow supposed to fit in here? Or did it throw tiny knives? Maybe she ought to pull the trigger and see what launching mechanism it had inside...



2. The Rig isn't very warm at the moment. In fact, even inside, temperatures don't crawl above fifty degrees. At least there's no wind to make things truly miserable. Even the gym isn't even that hot, at least when people aren't physically exerting themselves.
   
   But Tenten's soaked through with sweat. She's been sitting there, eyes closed, with her hands twisted into an odd shape, for almost the entire after-dinner period. Every now and then, she opens her mouth, exhaling harshly, but that's about it.
   
   There's quite a bit more warmth in the five feet around her.
   
   It was frustrating. Lee couldn't do it, sure, but everyone else had mastered two other nature changes, the techniques for infusing one's energy with an elemental nature. Tenten-well, she was about the only member of their circle of friends who hadn't managed it. Her control was just too sloppy, as much as she hated to admit it. But now... Now she wasn't having any more luck than back home. She exhales again, a thin creeping of a small cloud flowing from her throat, and then breathes in sharply, exploding into a fit of coughing when the ash flows right back into her lungs.
   
   Oh. She really should've brought a drink of water.



3. "Hey, you." Oh, look. Its your favorite person, Planker. He's kneeling on the floor, arranging some strings in a pattern. Strings, bits of plastic, some nuts and bolts, shoelaces, scraps of napkin torn into strips? "Lend me your shoelaces real quick, okay?" It looks like his are already down there.
   
   Planker hasn't looked up once. He's just holding his hand out. He opens and closes it a few times, slapping his fingers against his palm in an impatient gesture. On closer inspection, he's just very slightly... off. Something's weird about him. It might just be the strain on his face, though, it looks like he's undergoing an effort just kneeling there.
   
   Of course, there's a reason for that. It's Tenten, in disguise and forgetting for a moment that her fellow New Hires don't know about transformation techniques. The strain is pretty simple: Planker's a lot taller and heavier than she is, maintaining the transformation's taking its toll. She's spent the past while exploring the back halls, the stairwells, the access tunnels, trying to get a layout of the areas that the New Hires technically aren't banned from going, but aren't exactly allowed to go. It's been frustrating. All of the doors have weird locks, ones she can't pick. She's seen someone use a card of some kind to get in, but sliding a slip of paper through didn't work either.
   
   So now she's just laying down a map, trying to commit it to memory before everything fades, in case she can get through the doors later somehow.
   
   Of course, getting assistance might be easier if she weren't wearing someone else's face at the moment.

Comments

3

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday frowns, peering hard at Planker. Body language ain't quite right, there. And that junk on the floor.

She recognizes it. That's the back halls behind the kitchen, the ones that leads down to what looks like an engine room, or some kinda power substation.

Trusting her gut, as always, she kneels down and starts undoing her shoes. "Hold on a sec - "

A moment later, there's two shoelaces in ?Planker's? hand.

[71lines]

"Thanks." Well, doesn't that word just sound alien?

He takes them both and starts laying them carefully, then reaches into his pockets for a few new scraps of paper. Ventilation connections. Maybe Saturday's run into some of the spots she's marking down, unused closets and areas with loose wall panels.

And, of course, all of the doors to the sensitive areas and executive levels. All electronically locked, so that Tenten has no clue what lies behind them, but it's important that she marks them and memorizes them for later. Maybe she'll figure it out some day.

After settling a few more things down he squints and spends a moment darting his eyes over the entire thing, whispering notes to himself. Then he scoops up Saturday's shoelaces and hands them back. "I've got what I needed, thanks again." He starts to gather everything up, scooping it into his pockets and trying to relace his shoes.

It's a good thing Saturday realized something was up there, because this could be... Very weird otherwise.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday is certain, now. She coughs to get his attention.

"No problem, Planker."

Then she waits. He'd marked connections and areas she hadn't seen before - which means whichever New Hire this is (95& certainty, here), they're someone she should swap notes with.

[71lines]

He ignores her, or at least seems to. Everything's going back into his pockets in a particular order. Then he straightens and, as he does so, his facial expression and body language slip back into Planker's usual foul demeanor. Planker glances around, seems satisfied that he didn't have eyes on him, then fixes a disapproving look at Saturday. "What're you waiting around here for? Fuck off and do something useful before I find you something to do," he snaps, a little louder than normal.

She might have to apologize to Saturday later, but even if you weren't being watched, people could be listening. At least, that was Tenten's thought.

[wheyoftheadept]

Saturday raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, but sir, I thought you needed assistance," she says, with purely helpful innocence. She wants to see what Mr or Ms Perfect Disguise is up to. "I'd like to help, if I can."

There's not an ounce of disrespect in her; Saturday may not be able to change her face like that, but she's a professional in her own way.

[71lines]

"I've got other places to be. Ones you're not cleared for." That message ought to be clear enough.

Besides, it's a lot harder to use Planker as a tool when someone might ask him why he was hanging out with a New Hire. And his scowl has been very useful so far in keeping people from asking questions.

She'll apologize to Saturday later, possibly when she's uploading the map to the anon network.

[wheyoftheadept]

Fair enough.

Saturday snaps off a salute, with only a bare trace of irony, and withdraws.