nysalogs | Catchall log for December

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Catchall log for December

Who: Kale & YOU
What: A catchall log for December with a couple of open prompts and some closed ones.
When: All month
Where: Olympia, Wyver & Thesa Station
Warnings: None

Kale was trying to keep busy as much as possible. She and Misa had a residence in both Olympia and in Wyver for the time being, since they were undecided about where they wanted to live. Kale had a slight preference for Wyver, if only because the way they readily embraced fighting reminded her a little of her home planet. But on the other hand, she liked the idea of joining the Guard, even if she still hadn't gotten around to joining. She wasn't sure if she'd be able to go back and forth the way that she did if she had a job with the Guard, and she still didn't know how to present herself.

Fortunately, there was plenty to do, and plenty of odd jobs to be had. The fighting rings in Wyver were easy, legal money for her to get her hands on, which was a plus. While Kale didn't care about riches, she did eat a lot and was paying half of the rent in two small homes.

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[Kale shrinks back when he calls her out on this, cheeks flushing. She's enjoyed watching the Guard members train, and with her enhanced vision, she can watch from a further distance away and still have a clear view of what's going on. She hadn't wanted to disrupt or bother anyone.

There's something about his smell that's definitely not human. That doesn't bother her, being non-human herself, but his scent also doesn't smell natural, for some reason. It's different than even the other alien species she's met, from her universe and others. It would be rude to point this out, but it gets her attention nonetheless.]

A reputation? Um...

[Now she's blushing even harder when she considers the possibilities of what that implies. Does he think she's a pervert or a stalker?]

I-I just wanted to watch everyone train. T-that's not illegal, is it? I don't really know the local laws. I'm a refugee.

A reputation.

[He repeats, flashing a smile, all teeth. She just wanted to watch everyone train, she says, and he supposes there's nothing inherently suspicious in that, not in and of itself. A new refugee, unsure of her place in the world, just getting the lay of the land. Perhaps, possibly. If she's telling the truth.

There's the disconcertingly canine tilt of his head as he observes her through the impassive blankness of his orange lenses, and for the moment he holds back on telling her he's a refugee himself, albeit one who's been around for a scattering of months, now.]

Is that so. There's nothing illegal about watching, no, not in and of itself. It's the purpose behind it, however, that could change that. Why are you so interested?

[She fidgets awkwardly, and if his sense of smell is sharp enough to pick up on it, he'll notice she's not fidgeting from fear but rather from embarrassment. She knows she hasn't done anything wrong, and she's not afraid of what might happen to her. However. The idea of getting a reputation is mortifying.]

W-what kind of reputation? I'm not watching to ogle anyone the Guard or anything.

[Although the fact that her mind jumps to defend herself against that rather than to say that she's not a spy or a saboteur perhaps says something about her threat level.]

Watching just...

[She sighs.]

...it reminds me of home and of my friends. I come from a warrior colony, and nobody else from my colony has recovered from the storm yet.

[He picks up on it, that absence of fear, the embarrassment that takes it's place, written into the lines her body make, the scent of her-- he knows fear, after all, and this certainly isn't it. But then she speaks, and archly, he raises a brow. In truth, his own mind hadn't been taking that route at all, rarely - if ever - takes that kind of shape. The kind of existence he'd led until the Storm demolished everything he knew and he'd ended up here, unmoored, cut adrift-- it has hardly left space for such things. Violence and vengeance and fear, the daily horror of survival; that kind of experience doesn't exactly lend itself to toward sexual preoccupations.

Now that she's said it, though, he can only assume that ogling is exactly what she was doing.]

I see.

[The same arch look remains, something vaguely disbelieving in his face but--]

If it's the thought of fighting you miss, then why not just join up? It'd be more fun than looking. It's all a little tame, but better than nothing at all.

[Because that's something he can comprehend-- the need for physical exertion, for the heat and momentum of a fight. It's all he's ever known and, like her, he's quite alone here for now. Mother sleeps on, as do the rest, even Heine, and without them to give his existence meaning, he has to make do with whatever small shreds of familiarity he can get.]

[Oh no. Does he actually think she's like that? Inwardly, she begins lecturing herself about how that was a stupid thing to say, and how there were a hundred better ways she could have answered his questions, until he asks a much safer and less embarrassing question.]

I-I don't know if I'd be good at the job. I can fight, but I'm just...

[She gestures to herself vaguely, and is reminded of how many times she's been told to have more confidence and to stop saying "I'm just", to stop apologizing for everything. There's a lot of self-doubt, although there's none when she says the words "I can fight". If there's one thing she knows for sure she can do, it's that.]

I'm not very good with confrontation or being intimidating. Not when it's body language or talking to people. You seem to have that part down...assertive but still professional. I don't know if I can do that part of the job.

[It's funny, really. Funny in a sick dark way that isn't all that funny at all, because it's all a carefully constructed facade, a coping mechanism if you will-- when one lives among wolves, one must become a wolf or risk being torn apart, consumed, gnawed right down to the bones. So that's what he'd done, ultimately, abandoned to that place in the bowels of the earth as he had been-- he's become something cold and hard and cut off to prevent himself from being devoured. That he comes off as assertive now-- it's a carefully constructed mask he wears, one he's been wearing for so long that he no longer knows how to be any other way, where the pretense ends and he begins.

And so he just smiles his wry, crooked smile. Looks down at her. Lifts his narrow shoulders in a knifey kind of shrug.]

Some are better suited to it than others perhaps, but what's to say you can't learn? Besides, what's the alternative here? You're a refugee, so you'll be needing a job, and isn't it better to have a go at something that at least holds an element of what you know, rather than standing around on the sidelines?

[A beat, and then, dryly amused--]

Ogling.

[Considering that he approached her to investigate her watching the Guard train, he's actually being quite nice about it, teasing aside. Kale thinks it over. She has been doing odd jobs, but she'd been interested in joining the Guard early on and never managed to work up the nerve to go and talk to Asthi about a job. She's not proud of that reluctance, although the illness that afflicted Olympia and then exploring Wyver had been part of the delay.

Her cheeks flush when he mentions ogling, and she tries to think of what her friends might say. She can only imagine Caulifla's reaction: "Eh? Are you calling me a pervert?! You wanna fight?! I'll kick your ass!" Definitely not the impression she wants to make right now. So instead, she imagines her calmer friends. Hit is far more collected than Kale believes she ever could be, so she imagines Cabba. Polite, helpful, and member of the Sadala Defense Forces. Probably the best example to look to for inspiration at this point.]

Well, I would prefer to help others. I've made some money in Wyver's fighting rings, but my people try to use our fighting ability to protect others where possible.

[And since he has been encouraging, despite the teasing, she adds,]

If Asthi's too busy to meet with me right away, maybe we can spar? If you're finding the work a little tame, I might be able to give you a more interesting challenge.

[Even being a more peaceful-natured person, she is still a Saiyan with a Saiyan's instincts. She can understand wanting a challenge, and the frustration in not finding one.]

To protect others. Well isn't that nice.

[And there's something in his tone, something sly-edged and wry-- it's hardly as though he can claim such lofty goals for himself, after all. He's under no illusions as to what he is, what he was created to be; something dark and cold and savage, something that brings death and destruction with nothing so honorable as serving a greater good at its core. He may serve Mother with all the loyalty one would expect from a kicked and beaten-down dog, but the fact that she's a veritable incarnation of chaos has hardly slipped his attention.

Even here, even now, his position within the Guard has nothing to do with finding redemption and everything to do with needing to feel something akin to the leash at his neck-- something to hold him in and keep him down and provide the tight-laced structure that is all he's ever known. Without it, he fears all the fractured parts of himself will end up flung apart. Needs this to hold himself together, even after the Orbiters were good enough to fix his disintegrating mind.

But she's asking a question, and so he drags his eyes across her form from behind the glitter of his sunglasses, brazenly assessing, not bothering to hide his intentions from her. It's impossible to know from the outside, isn't it? Whether she'd be a worthy opponent or someone he could break apart without so much as trying. He's not one to judge on appearances alone-- he's slim and unassuming himself, hardly gives the appearance of the biological weapon he was created to be. And then, of course there are the twins, still trapped in their frozen sleep; little slips of things, but perfectly capable of tearing grown men limb from limb.

Impossible to say whether she can match him, then, unless they try.]

I'd talk to her, were I you. It's not as though you have anything to lose now, is it. The worst she can do is refuse, and if you have both the will and the capability, I'd say she'd give you a chance.

[As to the rest--]

And I rarely say no to a spot of fun. If you think you can keep up, I'd be happy to play sometime.

[Kale's not under any delusion that everyone who has joined the Guard has done so with that their primary intention being to protect. For some, it may simply be a job. For others, it may be an opportunity to fight legally. Whatever the reason, Kale's not judging. Her own best friend from home, Caulifla, would have been more interested in the Guard as a means to get stronger, with protecting people simply being a side benefit.]

All right.

[Resolute, Kale prepares herself to go and talk to Ashti. She offers a small smile.]

I'm a lot stronger than I look. You probably are, too.

[As to what led her to that conclusion, she doesn't say out loud. It's a few things. His scent is not like any of the human refugees she's met, and not like any of the local humans, either. She's fairly sure he isn't human. But it's also in how he carries himself, the way he refers to Guard work as tame, and even referring to sparring as 'play'.

She waves, and goes to find Ashti, only to return two minutes later.]

Um...are you up for that sparring match now, by any chance? She's in a meeting and said she'd be about an hour.

Quite possibly.

[Is all he says in response to her parting remark, lips subtly curled into something that can't quite be called a smile, but which resembles one all the same. He watches her go, eyes a red glitter behind orange lenses, heads back toward the other training Guards to resume his earlier position.

Only, she seeks him out again far more swiftly than expected, and at the sound of her voice he lifts a brow, something like distant interest written into the lines of his expression. He turns back to face her more fully, one hand on the push of bone at his hip.]

I don't see why not. Let's see, shall we, just how you measure up.

[It's an opportunity to prove herself even before Ashti watches her in action. Months ago, she might have shrunken back from that, but a small part of her is looking forward to the challenge. She's sincerely curious about what he can do. After all, the others hadn't noticed her. He was the one who realized she'd been there multiple times, watching the Guard train without entering. At the very least, he's got good observational skills.]

It's all right if you hit me harder than you would hit a human. The people from my colony are more durable than humans.

[Although the population seems to be primarily human, El Nysa does seem to have some who aren't quite human. Certainly, they don't bat an eye at some of the more unique looking people here. She'd elaborate, but she's mindful of the Natha's rules. All she wants, really, is to invite him to hit a little harder. A less tame sparring match. She raises her fists in a fighting stance.]

I'm ready whenever you are.

Are they, now.

[Again, the distant interest, the vague hint of something that isn't quite amusement in his voice but which gives the impression of it all the same. Once again, he sizes her up, slowly, hand still poised on one cocked hip. It's not in him, particularly, to hold back, to not give all that he has to give from one moment to the next because to do so back there would have been a death sentence, or one - at the very least - that could end with missing limbs and the sharp unwanted pain of regrowth. Worse though, holding back would have come with Her displeasure, and although it's something he always elicited regardless, it was always the very last thing he wanted.

No matter. For now She sleeps, and he's stranded here alone in a world he doesn't really understand and doesn't believe himself quite capable of adapting to. Never mind that he's adapted enough already to know when not to play to kill.

It's sudden, when he moves. Sudden and swift, movements fluid and much faster than anything one could expect from an ordinary human. He closes the distance between them, aims a blow for her abdomen, and although he isn't aiming to slam his fist right through her to break her to hear the sound of bones snapping to taste the scent of blood on the air, he intends to hit hard nonetheless.

One shouldn't deny the request of a lady, after all.]

[Kale watches, bouncing slightly in place on the balls of her feet, ready to react. Giovanni does not disappoint, and he's quick. Quicker than normal humans, although not so quickly that she can't follow his movements and react to them. In fact, part of the reason she wanted him to strike first is so that she can choose how hard to hit him. When one is capable of lifting cars without difficulty, sparring requires restraint and careful measurement of what one's sparring partner can handle.

So instead of trying to dodge it, she brings her arm up to intercept and deflect the blow, and she notes the strength in the punch. She'd been right in her guess that he shared a couple of things in common with her - fighting skill, and a level of strength and speed one wouldn't expect on first glance.

Side-stepping slightly, she moves in to aim a punch at his ribs. She might normally try for the face, but she doesn't want to damage his glasses. Those are probably not superhumanly durable, although one never knows.]

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Catchall log for December

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