INTRO LOG: A TAXING JOURNEY

[hadrielmods]

Who: New arrivals and everyone else!
What: The intro log for December. Watch your step!
Where: The colosseum and all around the city.
When: December 10th-17th
Warnings: Taxxon-related violence, teeth shoes, general unpleasantness, mass confusion.

You wake up in the dust of the colosseum with no shoes on, regardless of the state of your feet when you arrived. There's dust covering your clothing and in your hair, but other than that, there's no signs of injury or bruising. You're also not alone- nearby, there are others, either still passed out or just waking up like you are. Feel free to take solace in that fact. Or don't- some of you aren't human, and are clearly not great people either. No offense.

To your left, there is a door in the wall of the arena, supposedly leading to the halls which will then show you to your freedom. To your right, and scattered haphazardly on the ground, are a myriad of teeth shoes. These shoes might be better than going barefoot right now, but good luck finding a matching set, let alone one that fits you.

When you do eventually try to escape, be careful. The halls are crawling with Taxxons. Large and grotesque, these caterpillar-like creatures have circular mouths and multiple rows of sharp teeth. Their sense of smell is impeccable, and they will stop at nothing to feed when they scent blood. So, you know, try to avoid stepping on anything sharp on your way out.

All done with the horrible monsters and awkward greetings? Try your hand at exploring the rest of the city! Find a house, find a new monster, or simply scavenge for supplies until your little heart is content. Good luck, and enjoy your stay in Hadriel!

► This log covers December 10th-17th.
► Feel free to make your own logs, as well!
► Characters may find their own shoes scattered around with the teeth shoes if you like.
► All characters now arrive with phones that have network communication.
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!

Comments

[vendetta]

The fact is that despite everything that Zero and Ocelot had implied to him in their various conversations, Miller does know Snake well. Maybe they'd only worked together for a couple of years, but sometimes it's not the length of time spent with a person that matters. They'd built something together, their skills complementing each other in a seamless way to create MSF. What they'd had then, it had been good, and it had been theirs.

The point being that Kaz knows Snake well enough that he can tell when he's actually gotten to him. The signs are subtle, but they're there, and he doesn't know if he should be triumphant or upset to have gotten that kind of reaction out of him. (It's not easily done.)

Of course, Snake comes back with something just as cutting, and Kaz can't say that he hadn't been braced for it. It still pisses him off, even though he knows that now both of them are just picking their words for how sharp they are, for how much damage they think they'll do.

"Is that what you think?" Kaz bows his head and shakes it, the tension draining out of his shoulders as he lets it all sink in. "That you could just send me some copy, and that'd be good enough? You figured, what, I wouldn't notice the difference?" Just as fast, his head snaps back up so he can look Snake right in the eye. Thankfully, his sunglasses stay on firmly. "Don't you get it? He wasn't you."

Whether or not Snake had realized what he was doing, he'd left Kaz with another scar, another piece missing. Maybe it's not as visible as his empty sleeve or peg leg, but he feels it every goddamn day.

[camouflage]

He wasn't you.

John was not the brightest crayon in the box when it came to interpersonal relationships that involved him. He knew it, everyone who had ever known him knew it and had constantly pointed out how dense he was. Hell, he hadn't realized Eva's intentions regarding him until she was in his lap, kissing him like her life depended on it.

Which, it kind of had. Bad example.

But even someone as oblivious as Big Boss had to stop and question that kind of statement. What did it matter if it wasn't him? After all, Kaz was throwing around how much better Venom was compared to him. He doubted Venom argued much when it came to Kaz telling him how Diamond Dogs should be run, anyway. That's how he had been programmed; to allow Kaz to guide him a little more. Where as during the days of MSF, he and Miller had gotten into the occassional disagreement (read: fist fight) about how things should go.

"I don't..." Know what I should say. What I should do. Words have never been John's strong-suit, anyway. That phrase just kept running through his head, like it was important but he just couldn't understand why. So, the soldier sighs, more of a soft huff, unsure what the next step should be. "We shouldn't... This isn't important right now. We should get you settled." He knows he'll catch flak for brushing off the conversation, but Kaz does need to get a roof over his head. Maybe he'll see reason.

[vendetta]

Particularly toward the beginning, Venom had let Miller and Ocelot run the show, listening to their guidance or picking between their arguments about various issues. Kaz can't help but feel like he'd lost the majority of those fights, but that's also because over time Venom had come into his own, found his moral center and then kept to it fiercely. He'd spared Quiet and even worked alongside her; he'd banished Huey instead of giving him the death he deserved...

But somewhere along the way, Kaz had come to respect Venom too. He wasn't the true Big Boss, but he'd managed to fill those shoes all the same, which hadn't been an easy task. Granted, it had helped that Venom had bought into the lie. He'd been used by all of them, in the end.

Far be it from Snake to actually face any sort of outpouring of emotion head-on. He has no idea how to do that, and so he shies away from it instead. Kaz could push further, but at this point he knows that it would fall on deaf ears, that he'll never be able to get through that thick skull.

"Settled," he echoes, taking another look around them as his surroundings come into focus once again. His vision isn't completely clouded by the man in front of him now, although it's not like anything has been forgiven. "What is this place?" he asks, with a tinge of weariness. Obviously Snake hadn't known Miller would be brought here, so it could be that both of them are captives.

[camouflage]

There's a visible relaxation in his shoulders, like John had been squaring up for a blow. It doesn't come, which is more surprising than not, but he's going to inquire. For now, the conversation is drawn away from the subject of them and steered to more immediate troubles. Generally, he would put a pin in it, try and broach the subject again later, but right now, he's not sure he ever wants to revisit this.

"Besides the obvious? No one really knows yet. It's a dead city, undedground, in a cave. Any former residents and info on them is gone." John's done some intel gathering, even tried the library (which, he thinks, might be the second time he's ever been in one). When that had turned nothing up, he had turned to his message on the network, hoping someone else might know something. Dead ends, all of them. They were all in the dark together. "We're on our own down here, scrounging and surviving. Kind of like MSF's first days, but less weapons and better shelters."

[vendetta]

A dead, abandoned city, deep underground. Kaz tilts his head up toward the rocky ceiling and lets out a breath. For all they know, they're trapped in here like rats and no one has a clue about what happened to them. If there's no way to find this place from the surface...

Really, this conversation might have been able to carry on without any further issues if it hadn't been for Snake bringing up MSF's early days. Kaz's head snaps back down so that he can shoot Snake a glare, one that can probably be felt even through his aviators. The less that they talk about their shared history, the better.

(Thinking back to that time only aches now, instills him with the sort of nostalgia that makes his missing leg and arm tingle.)

"Is there any clue for what continent we're on? Have you been able to get any transmissions out?" It sounds like Snake has a big pile of nothing, which isn't like him. Kaz could insist that Snake's not nearly as productive without him, but that probably isn't true; just another bitter afterthought for him to chew on.

[camouflage]

If that glare gets to Big Boss, he doesn't show it. Not that it did, anyway, even though he can very much feel the weight of it. Miller can glare at him all he wants, but they did share history and no amount of seething is going to make that fact go away. John realizes that Kaz must still be feeling sore about the old company, that maybe talking about it is just putting salt in festering wounds. After all why would a soldier, an battalion XO of all people, go around on a crutch and let that coat sleeve flap around like a banner of pride?

Because that person was Kazuhira Miller, full of fire and passionate about everything he did. Boss knew without a doubt that Kaz could've had prosthetics made for him, but must have refused them in a fit of emotional outburst. In remembrance.

John knew that right now wasn't a good time (might never be), but he wanted to grab the man and tell him to straighten up. It was time to get over it. John, after all, had spent nine years trapped in the nightmare of MSF's downfall. Sometimes the exact memory of it, the fire and smoke in the helicopter assaulting all of his senses. Sometimes a different iteration; both of them going down with their proverbial ship, watching Kaz die, feeling himself die. The horrible reality of what had happened would always haunt him, but at least talking about the better parts of 1974 helped.

"Continent?" John has the audacity to crack a smirk at the question. Not because he believes Kaz is being ridiculous, but because the situation continues to be ridiculous. "We've got bigger problems than that. Namely the people who brought us here. They're calling themselves gods."

[vendetta]

Somehow, Kaz can tell that the smirk isn't really at his expense, even if there is still the sense that he's missing out on some joke. Saying that they've got bigger problems is essentially a way of evading the question, which Kaz is going to take to mean that Snake hasn't been able to get any messages to the outside. They're on their own.

But are they in this together, or not? Kaz can't just crawl back to Snake as if nothing happened, it would go against every conviction he'd made since Venom showed up. But there's nothing wrong with getting some basic information out of him, is there?

"Gods," he echoes with a frown. With the kinds of lives they've led, he's pretty sure both he and Snake alike gave up on the idea of a higher power a long time ago. His mother had impressed on him the tenets of Shintoism, but none of it had really stuck, at least not on a deeper level. "Sounds like they've just got huge egos." Like someone else he knows.

Now that he's caught his breath, Kaz starts to walk, managing a decent pace despite the fact that he has to use the cane. He isn't heading in any specific direction other than away from the coliseum, but he figures Snake will speak up if he's unknowingly leading them into another trap. At this point he wants to get a lay of the land. "What do they want with us?" he asks, keeping his gaze focused forward. It's easier than continuing to look at that face, that's for sure.

[camouflage]

"An understatement." Although the two of them have managed to pull a few things off, John wouldn't go so far as to feel cowed by their phenominal power. Surprised, maybe, but his life had introduced him to a number of people who could be considered 'gods'. Volgin and his inexplicable ability to call up the forces of lighting stuck out the most in his mind, with the Cobra Unit ranking a close second.

Pulling a clinic out of one's ass, immediate though it had been, was not enough for Big Boss to acknowledge Hope and Fear as anything but crafty.

Any other thought he might've had about Hope and Fear was interrupted when Kaz began to hobble away. Well, hobble was insulting. Despite his handicaps and the ringer he had been through today, Kaz still walks with an air of authority. Authority and the aura of a rattlesnake ready to strike. John follows along right beside him, not faltering for a second, and matches his pace easily. It's hard to stay in-step with a man who doesn't have a real leg, but at least Big Boss manages not to walk ahead of him. "I may not have any intel on how to leave, but I have enough to keep you alive around here." Despite his simplification when he had initially answered Kaz's question, getting into the grove of this place was actually quite the info dump. "Let's find a safer area. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

[vendetta]

At this point Kaz has had plenty of practice walking with his artificial leg. It may be obvious just by looking at him that he's lost pieces of himself, he doesn't walk like he's some kind of invalid. There's no way he would have been able to inspire any kind of loyalty from the members of Diamond Dogs if he'd looked weak. Even in those moments when he'd lost his balance and ended up on the floor, none of them had dared to laugh. They'd simply helped him up without a word, or left it for Venom to do.

It's hard for Kaz to admit, but he does appreciate the way that Snake keeps with his pace instead of trying to march ahead of him. That's what had made their partnership work out as well as it had. They'd functioned as a unit, each of them with their own roles to play, and Snake had treated him as an equally important part of MSF. They'd built it together, and they'd lost it together.

They were supposed to have gotten revenge for it together too, so in the end this still feels like it's too little, too late.

There's an implication in Snake's words that he'd prefer that Kaz remain alive. If only he'd known how to show that back home. Holding back a scoff, Miller nods, focusing on his practical need for information rather than the wounds festering under the surface. "All right, let's go."

So they walk, shoulder-to-shoulder.