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FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
You're the one who uses those mittens, aren't you?
FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
It's dangerous right now. I'm warning you to be careful.
You're the one who uses those mittens, aren't you?
FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
It's dangerous right now. I'm warning you to be careful.
[ and before he knew anything about them—! ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
uh yeah that's me
[ and only two people have seen him use it, so . . . he remembers you hello!! ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
edward-san? can i call you that?
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
what's going on?
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
uh yeah that's me
[ and only two people have seen him use it, so . . . he remembers you hello!! ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
edward-san? can i call you that?
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
what's going on?
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
tell me about it...........
[ ahh— but wait who was it in the first place— when he notices, he scampers rather quickly to reply, pleasantly surprised if he says so himself! ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
oh hey!! i'm ok i guess! ah
thanks
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
it's so many things......
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
um are you okay too? ( and is it ok if i call you fetch? )
tell me about it...........
[ ahh— but wait who was it in the first place— when he notices, he scampers rather quickly to reply, pleasantly surprised if he says so himself! ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
oh hey!! i'm ok i guess! ah
thanks
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
it's so many things......
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
um are you okay too? ( and is it ok if i call you fetch? )
TO: brown.nicolas@cdc.org
FROM: tess@cdc.org
If that Garrus guy comes to see you I encourage you to call him an alien as many times as you can. You won't be able to read his lips but trust me he loves it.
FROM: tess@cdc.org
If that Garrus guy comes to see you I encourage you to call him an alien as many times as you can. You won't be able to read his lips but trust me he loves it.
Edited 2015-01-02 00:24 (UTC)
[He's kicked the door, supplies in hand.]
Open up.
[How different he'd become in months. From shooing students off his grounds, to beating Tsuna's useless friends... He stands instead with rice in arm, and tea, as Yuuto used to love. Perhaps the boy should like this too?
He feels a touch embarrassed, still.]
Open up.
[How different he'd become in months. From shooing students off his grounds, to beating Tsuna's useless friends... He stands instead with rice in arm, and tea, as Yuuto used to love. Perhaps the boy should like this too?
He feels a touch embarrassed, still.]
[ hieeee-!!! it sounds like he's going to kick the door down!! ]
C-coming!!
[ he says it quickly, desperately— all while trying to get the door to the rover open. he was expecting hibari, really— but he almost wasn't. he went and did things on his own time, after all, and tsuna merely followed along to the played tune. god help him if he didn't ( or so he thinks )—
when he finally opens up, tsuna stares. rice, was that tea—
he's . . . he's changed quite a bit . . . ]
Hibari-san! Um—!
[ come in? lets go? what do . . . ]
—Come in!
C-coming!!
[ he says it quickly, desperately— all while trying to get the door to the rover open. he was expecting hibari, really— but he almost wasn't. he went and did things on his own time, after all, and tsuna merely followed along to the played tune. god help him if he didn't ( or so he thinks )—
when he finally opens up, tsuna stares. rice, was that tea—
he's . . . he's changed quite a bit . . . ]
Hibari-san! Um—!
[ come in? lets go? what do . . . ]
—Come in!
FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
Hey.
FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
I'm back.
[ haha wasn't that one time they fought khapri and plant kids and got hella traumatized fun ]
Hey.
FROM: elric.edward@cdc.org
I'm back.
[ haha wasn't that one time they fought khapri and plant kids and got hella traumatized fun ]
FROM: phantomhive.ciel@cdc.org
Ikari may be sullied.
Ikari may be sullied.
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
If Phantomhive-kun says anything about me, it's not true okay!
If Phantomhive-kun says anything about me, it's not true okay!
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
oh
um
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
ok
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
how are you shinji?
youre not sick are you?
[ lets totally pretend.... he didn't get that message at all . . . ]
oh
um
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
ok
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
how are you shinji?
youre not sick are you?
[ lets totally pretend.... he didn't get that message at all . . . ]
Edited (NEVERMIND I JUST GOT A TAG THAT CHANGED IT ALL) 2015-03-05 01:15 (UTC)
( continued from here! )
[ it's a warmth that he's missed, that he's possibly longed for too much during the time he's spent here. only god knew how much he's missed the family he had around him in namimori, the comfort and solid blocks that sustained the weight of what happened around them. they all did it together, climbing together, flying together— tsuna's made friends here, but nothing did compare like the friendship he shares with his home.
he's shuck out of his daze, messy hair growing messier, eyes ogling up at yamamoto. the affection, the familiar feeling of normalcy hits him in a way that has his eyes going glossy, shining with tears being held back. he can't help the emotion that surges, the words that come with too much simplicity to match with the various twists and turns of events. but, he could manage a squeak of words, finding himself pushing into the friendly embrace for comfort from someone so close to his heart. ]
M-me neither—
[ at least where it isn't injured-! bandages are all over the place, but— the coolness of the bottle aids the tension in his jaw, soothes that soreness at the inside of his wounded mouth. he shakes his hand enough to lengthen the cuff of his sleeve, smearing the wetness from his eyes, sniffing hard to suck it up. he takes the water bottle afterwards, rolling through his fingers and falling into a loose grasp. ]
—Can we sit? And talk a little-?
[ though "a little" would probably mean "tsuna planting himself at yamamoto's side and never leaving". ]
[ it's a warmth that he's missed, that he's possibly longed for too much during the time he's spent here. only god knew how much he's missed the family he had around him in namimori, the comfort and solid blocks that sustained the weight of what happened around them. they all did it together, climbing together, flying together— tsuna's made friends here, but nothing did compare like the friendship he shares with his home.
he's shuck out of his daze, messy hair growing messier, eyes ogling up at yamamoto. the affection, the familiar feeling of normalcy hits him in a way that has his eyes going glossy, shining with tears being held back. he can't help the emotion that surges, the words that come with too much simplicity to match with the various twists and turns of events. but, he could manage a squeak of words, finding himself pushing into the friendly embrace for comfort from someone so close to his heart. ]
M-me neither—
[ at least where it isn't injured-! bandages are all over the place, but— the coolness of the bottle aids the tension in his jaw, soothes that soreness at the inside of his wounded mouth. he shakes his hand enough to lengthen the cuff of his sleeve, smearing the wetness from his eyes, sniffing hard to suck it up. he takes the water bottle afterwards, rolling through his fingers and falling into a loose grasp. ]
—Can we sit? And talk a little-?
[ though "a little" would probably mean "tsuna planting himself at yamamoto's side and never leaving". ]
[ do you ever just
His eyes widen perceptibly when Tsuna drags his sleeve over his eyes in messy, shuddering swipes, and that's enough of an answer. He doesn't begrudge him of much, nonetheless. Yamamoto's gaze absently slants up so Tsuna won't catch him staring for too long at the pinprick of tears misting at his eyes — he never really seemed to genuinely like the attention, even before, when everyone looked to him as a leader to easily trail in the wake of.
It's a kind of dissipation in untempered physicality, shying and indistinct, because Tsuna would sooner vibrate out of his skin than hurt another living being. Fighting with hands braced around contrite psalms, even, because he was never as confrontational as much as he was pacifistic. There's nothing abstract about the way Yamamoto carefully folds him into a tight hug, though — partially because of the injuries Tsuna's sustained, partially because he might just need it too, blinking down at the looming fragility in his friend's complexion.
Quick and painless.
Yamamoto retracts after a while, his palms finding both of Tsuna's shoulders and holding him steady, an echo of earnest warmth. He smiles in tired relief, straightening after a moment, mouth puzzled between a slivered grin and something entirely indiscernible when he speaks. ]
'Course, Tsuna. Anything you want! Just say the word.
[ It's a little like baring his soul: Yamamoto says too much but won't say enough, and it's never quite what he means, even in complete exposure. Tsuna's changed, somehow, growing brittle with the beginning of a nascent, waxing desperation. Evidently, he can't voice that much, either. Hands pulled away from the clasp, Yamamoto pivots Tsuna on his heel in one decided movement, leading him back toward the main encampment. ]
You look exhausted. Have you been here for a while?
His eyes widen perceptibly when Tsuna drags his sleeve over his eyes in messy, shuddering swipes, and that's enough of an answer. He doesn't begrudge him of much, nonetheless. Yamamoto's gaze absently slants up so Tsuna won't catch him staring for too long at the pinprick of tears misting at his eyes — he never really seemed to genuinely like the attention, even before, when everyone looked to him as a leader to easily trail in the wake of.
It's a kind of dissipation in untempered physicality, shying and indistinct, because Tsuna would sooner vibrate out of his skin than hurt another living being. Fighting with hands braced around contrite psalms, even, because he was never as confrontational as much as he was pacifistic. There's nothing abstract about the way Yamamoto carefully folds him into a tight hug, though — partially because of the injuries Tsuna's sustained, partially because he might just need it too, blinking down at the looming fragility in his friend's complexion.
Quick and painless.
Yamamoto retracts after a while, his palms finding both of Tsuna's shoulders and holding him steady, an echo of earnest warmth. He smiles in tired relief, straightening after a moment, mouth puzzled between a slivered grin and something entirely indiscernible when he speaks. ]
'Course, Tsuna. Anything you want! Just say the word.
[ It's a little like baring his soul: Yamamoto says too much but won't say enough, and it's never quite what he means, even in complete exposure. Tsuna's changed, somehow, growing brittle with the beginning of a nascent, waxing desperation. Evidently, he can't voice that much, either. Hands pulled away from the clasp, Yamamoto pivots Tsuna on his heel in one decided movement, leading him back toward the main encampment. ]
You look exhausted. Have you been here for a while?
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
TO: dasilva.sharon@cdc.org, sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org, branford.terra@cdc.org, cecil.guy@cdc.org
Sorry it took so long to say hello but I'm Shinji Ikari and I'm apparently your Cell Point.
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
I know most of you, but for those I don't it's nice to meet you. I hope we can work well together.
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
I'll do my best to carry out my responsibilities. If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask.
TO: dasilva.sharon@cdc.org, sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org, branford.terra@cdc.org, cecil.guy@cdc.org
Sorry it took so long to say hello but I'm Shinji Ikari and I'm apparently your Cell Point.
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
I know most of you, but for those I don't it's nice to meet you. I hope we can work well together.
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
I'll do my best to carry out my responsibilities. If there's anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask.
FROM: smith.erwin@cdc.org
Tsuna. How are you doing? Are you and Chestnut doing alright?
Tsuna. How are you doing? Are you and Chestnut doing alright?
FROM: serket.vriska@cdc.org
What the fuck did you DO, Tsuna.
What the fuck did you DO, Tsuna.
[ ping!!! he almost replies with "its nothing mom", as the words are read from his black glass with sluggishness— he didn't do anything to the house while she went to buy tomatoes, he swore that boom from down the street and towards their home wasn't a stray grenade or trip mine thanks to a rather spartan home tutor and a lengthy session of extra math questions—
that wasn't mom that was texting him though, right? no, mom wasn't here.
right. he was on planet macha, part of the cdc, and failed a mission. taking time to come to, he does have to read the message a few times over before saying something stupid. ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
i think its....what we didnt do?
i dont knw
[ and a lengthy moment after: ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
everyon on our team got it
the nerki wewnt
werent
happy with us there
we didnt learn alot
that wasn't mom that was texting him though, right? no, mom wasn't here.
right. he was on planet macha, part of the cdc, and failed a mission. taking time to come to, he does have to read the message a few times over before saying something stupid. ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
i think its....what we didnt do?
i dont knw
[ and a lengthy moment after: ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
everyon on our team got it
the nerki wewnt
werent
happy with us there
we didnt learn alot
FROM: ikari.shinji@cdc.org
Hey Sawada-kun, I just wanted to check in on you. Are you okay?
Hey Sawada-kun, I just wanted to check in on you. Are you okay?
[ take this as a well needed lesson.
tsuna mulls this over with a perturbed sort of fixation since the moment he's seen the message. to make matters worse, there were much too many people he knew on that list. his entire team. hibari, guy— nearly half were names of friends, and naturally— he was worried for them, even forgetting about himself. what kind of punishment would this be? because the mission wasn't a success with little reason behind it, it only left room for speculation. tsuna could think of a few reasons, but—
the fact of the matter was that they failed. no one failed alone. he played his part and could have done something better, anything—
tsuna spends the morning going after his mission's team, sending out messages, looking for them in person, then doing so with the others. he leaves his rover a little after piecing information together, when the word medical comes up. he starts, legs speeding up a fast walk as he simultaneously looks from in front of him to his black glass as he walks and types; a terrible teen habit. he had to find hibari too, make sure he was going to be okay— he could feel a knot of nervousness tie around his throat, tightening its grip enough for tsuna to swallow dry, pushing back the ill-boding feeling that starts in his chest and travels to his stomach with a chilling shiver. a moment more, and he realizes— it's hyper intuition.
it warns him of what was coming, and the feeling is no walk through the grass. it almost felt like death was hovering nearby, only waiting to brush up on him and say hello. he looks around him with little thought and more sudden panic. like it was stepping closer, and closer— and like a caged bird, a tied fawn, there was nowhere to run. the metaphorical wolf doesn't wait long at all to attack, so much so, that even if tsuna felt it, he'd never be ready for the impact.
it's where his throat shutters, obstructs with what felt like an invisible cork, blocking off his intake of oxygen. eyes wide, face losing color, tsuna tries a second time— a wheeze that begins sending his body into agony, tensely shaking until he's wobbling to the side with weakening legs and buckling knees. the third attempt at breathing is no less harrowing, lungs broiling for one last breath of air— his heart pounds in retaliation, thumping in his ears as his fingers uncoil from his black glass, letting it fall to the floor in favor of having his hands reach desperately for his chest and throat. his limbs fail to give him stability, and he falls.
he's felt this before— but, somehow, this is worse. it's growing worse than the supposed dream he had of a neraki jabbing a spear into his abdomen, his throat, carving into his skin and drowning him in his own blood. his heart palpates, an irregular jump that ends with crippling convulsion of pain that fans out.
he can't speak. can't move enough. all he could do is writhe and contort in only growing dolor. ]
tsuna mulls this over with a perturbed sort of fixation since the moment he's seen the message. to make matters worse, there were much too many people he knew on that list. his entire team. hibari, guy— nearly half were names of friends, and naturally— he was worried for them, even forgetting about himself. what kind of punishment would this be? because the mission wasn't a success with little reason behind it, it only left room for speculation. tsuna could think of a few reasons, but—
the fact of the matter was that they failed. no one failed alone. he played his part and could have done something better, anything—
tsuna spends the morning going after his mission's team, sending out messages, looking for them in person, then doing so with the others. he leaves his rover a little after piecing information together, when the word medical comes up. he starts, legs speeding up a fast walk as he simultaneously looks from in front of him to his black glass as he walks and types; a terrible teen habit. he had to find hibari too, make sure he was going to be okay— he could feel a knot of nervousness tie around his throat, tightening its grip enough for tsuna to swallow dry, pushing back the ill-boding feeling that starts in his chest and travels to his stomach with a chilling shiver. a moment more, and he realizes— it's hyper intuition.
it warns him of what was coming, and the feeling is no walk through the grass. it almost felt like death was hovering nearby, only waiting to brush up on him and say hello. he looks around him with little thought and more sudden panic. like it was stepping closer, and closer— and like a caged bird, a tied fawn, there was nowhere to run. the metaphorical wolf doesn't wait long at all to attack, so much so, that even if tsuna felt it, he'd never be ready for the impact.
it's where his throat shutters, obstructs with what felt like an invisible cork, blocking off his intake of oxygen. eyes wide, face losing color, tsuna tries a second time— a wheeze that begins sending his body into agony, tensely shaking until he's wobbling to the side with weakening legs and buckling knees. the third attempt at breathing is no less harrowing, lungs broiling for one last breath of air— his heart pounds in retaliation, thumping in his ears as his fingers uncoil from his black glass, letting it fall to the floor in favor of having his hands reach desperately for his chest and throat. his limbs fail to give him stability, and he falls.
he's felt this before— but, somehow, this is worse. it's growing worse than the supposed dream he had of a neraki jabbing a spear into his abdomen, his throat, carving into his skin and drowning him in his own blood. his heart palpates, an irregular jump that ends with crippling convulsion of pain that fans out.
he can't speak. can't move enough. all he could do is writhe and contort in only growing dolor. ]
[Why was this happening? Why now? No, Maya knows why... Grey's gag order keeps her from knowing the specifics, but after that cryptic message from the instructors people had started dropping all around camp, and you don't need hyper-intuition to put one and two together to make this bullshit.
The only thing tempering Maya's anger and frustration as she pounds across camp with her Medical Squad uniform catching on the wind behind her is the sense of duty. Medical is needed right now. The message had given her the list of names of those to be affected, but the attacks were happening at seemingly random intervals— Maya doesn't know where to be or when, so her best guess is everywhere. Patrol. Be available. If someone shows sudden sign of illness, be close by and act on it.
She doesn't care what supposedly went wrong that could "justify" half-killing a sizeable number of the team, but she wants answers to why anyone thought this was acceptable while Medical's resources are already so thin on the ground and the team has been weakened by this many deaths. Even as she checks for the faces of people she knows from the list she's wondering who she should complain to, whether the kind of people to do this to those under the command would even listen or care.
But it's not the time. Maya witnesses Tsuna fall to the ground ahead of her, freezing for only a second as she breathes his name in horror, before pelting towards him. She skids to a halt, almost toppling under the weight of her own tentacles as she reaches his side, dropping to her knees before him as she assesses his condition.]
Tsuna? Tsuna, it's me.
[Her voice tremors at the edges with the oncoming adrenaline as her hands poised uncertainly over his body. How far were they from Medical right now? Can she carry Tsuna if she needs to? How quick a response time can she expect if she calls for backup... There's no need for her to check vital signs — Maya can very clearly see that Tsuna is conscious. Conscious, in agony and panicking. Even Maya can recognise the fear in those brown eyes.]
It's Maya. Medical sent me. I'm here...
[She continues as she rolls him onto his side and into the recovery position. Carefully but swiftly she pulls his limbs to the correct positions to keep him from rolling over. She's stationed in front of him, where he can see her, grasping his shoulder firmly with one hand to keep him from rolling onto his back so that the fluid can't build to fill his lungs. Her nanite gun is in her pack with shots ready to go, but it's useless to shoot Tsuna while the attack is still on-going. All they can do is wait it out. Keep talking to him— that's all she can do...]
Listen to me carefully, okay? I'm here and I'm going to help you. You're going to be fine, Tsuna, but I can't do anything until your cuff reactivates. Until then I need you to try and keep calm, okay?
The only thing tempering Maya's anger and frustration as she pounds across camp with her Medical Squad uniform catching on the wind behind her is the sense of duty. Medical is needed right now. The message had given her the list of names of those to be affected, but the attacks were happening at seemingly random intervals— Maya doesn't know where to be or when, so her best guess is everywhere. Patrol. Be available. If someone shows sudden sign of illness, be close by and act on it.
She doesn't care what supposedly went wrong that could "justify" half-killing a sizeable number of the team, but she wants answers to why anyone thought this was acceptable while Medical's resources are already so thin on the ground and the team has been weakened by this many deaths. Even as she checks for the faces of people she knows from the list she's wondering who she should complain to, whether the kind of people to do this to those under the command would even listen or care.
But it's not the time. Maya witnesses Tsuna fall to the ground ahead of her, freezing for only a second as she breathes his name in horror, before pelting towards him. She skids to a halt, almost toppling under the weight of her own tentacles as she reaches his side, dropping to her knees before him as she assesses his condition.]
Tsuna? Tsuna, it's me.
[Her voice tremors at the edges with the oncoming adrenaline as her hands poised uncertainly over his body. How far were they from Medical right now? Can she carry Tsuna if she needs to? How quick a response time can she expect if she calls for backup... There's no need for her to check vital signs — Maya can very clearly see that Tsuna is conscious. Conscious, in agony and panicking. Even Maya can recognise the fear in those brown eyes.]
It's Maya. Medical sent me. I'm here...
[She continues as she rolls him onto his side and into the recovery position. Carefully but swiftly she pulls his limbs to the correct positions to keep him from rolling over. She's stationed in front of him, where he can see her, grasping his shoulder firmly with one hand to keep him from rolling onto his back so that the fluid can't build to fill his lungs. Her nanite gun is in her pack with shots ready to go, but it's useless to shoot Tsuna while the attack is still on-going. All they can do is wait it out. Keep talking to him— that's all she can do...]
Listen to me carefully, okay? I'm here and I'm going to help you. You're going to be fine, Tsuna, but I can't do anything until your cuff reactivates. Until then I need you to try and keep calm, okay?
[It's a horrible sick feeling in her stomach, a worry and panic and anger that all curl together in a tight painful ball. It drives her to search all over camp for Tsuna (why, why had she been assigned the morning guard on today of all days, why had he woken and left so early), only thinking to use the blackglass much later in the day.]
FROM: lanfan@cc.org
Where are you?
FROM: lanfan@cc.org
Where are you?
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
lan fan!
[ with such a sporadic and rushed day its been— they probably missed each other by moments. at least . . . he was easy to find, now. sitting up in his be, tucked away behind curtains: ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
i'm back at the rover
it's ok
[ it'd be nice to see her— he hopes he does. ]
lan fan!
[ with such a sporadic and rushed day its been— they probably missed each other by moments. at least . . . he was easy to find, now. sitting up in his be, tucked away behind curtains: ]
FROM: sawada.tsunayoshi@cdc.org
i'm back at the rover
it's ok
[ it'd be nice to see her— he hopes he does. ]
Edited 2015-05-06 23:42 (UTC)
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