revivalproject | Log // Catch-All for April

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Log // Catch-All for April - OTA

WHO: Cal Kestis, BD-1 and you!
WHERE: Around Temba
WHAT: Exploring, fixing stuff, poking around and scavenging
WHEN: Catch-all for April
WARNINGS: N/A

Without the threat of a storm looming over them, Cal figures it's as good a time as any to try to get anything done. There seems to be plenty to see, and he's had his share of experiences when it comes to roaming ruins. The replicator project has been a success, and in no small part due to the help of Cipher Nine and Hux. What else needs fixing around here? Other than...well, everything.

Green
In the northwest part of the city he's begun clearing out one of the larger buildings. The space had seemed ample enough for a suitable work area, and the adjoining room suitable for storage. If not moving things around, Cal can be found bringing in some things, likely broken, very much salvaged, from wherever his wanderings have been.

...or you might catch him napping on a makeshift pallet in a corner while BD-1 plays around in a box of junk. Hey, even Jedi get exhausted! Who knew?

Blue
Running around some random ruins is probably training enough, but sometimes it's nice to know you're in a controlled space. The old theater looks sturdy enough, and given it's still standing as it is after so long, Cal hopes his trust in the architecture isn't unfounded.

If he's not found climbing along the sides of the highest raised rows or making impossible jumps (or heaven forbid, wall-running), he might be found at ground level at the theater's center, going through some exercises with a metal rod (probably a thin pipe) he'd found somewhere. It's far from a lightsaber and it makes him miss the one he's lost, but he goes through the forms fluidly and with as much care as if he still wields a blade of light.

Alternatively he can be found by the flood plain, looking very much like he's contemplating a swim as he wonders what the waters have swallowed up.

(OOC: Or choose your own adventure/wildcard! If you're up for doing anything else or have any ideas, tag away or PM/plurk/discord (Trilobite Punch#4073) me! :D And if action tags are more your thing over prose, I'll go with whatever your pref.)

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And just as Jon is about to hand the fire iron over to Tony, the other man steps away, beckoning the little droid to come along to make room?

"P-Practicing?!" He echoes the word, his voice one of disbelief, finely laced with a rather particular brand of panic as he looks down at the metal in his hand and from that over to Cal and the pipe the younger man is still holding with such terrifyingly little effort.

Letting his attention jump back to Tony, Jon casts him a grimace and points the fire iron at him, getting an idea of what he has in mind - Aside from humiliating Jon again, of course. Somehow that little hobby still hasn't died out, it seems.

"This is not a good idea, Tony!"

On the contrary, Cal somewhat appreciates the attempt on Tony's part. He'd suspected as much, given the object Tony had requested. Another distraction? Perhaps. Except there's the fact that it's not Tony who's offering to do the sparring.

BD-1 beeps, looking between the two before scampering down the padawan, hesitantly peering over at Jon once on the ground.

Cal looks at the Archivist as well. "We don't have to if you don't want to. But maybe it couldn't hurt to give it a try, Jon. I'll take it easy with you, I promise."

"Au contraire, I've never had a bad idea in my life," Tony said with such confidence that it absolutely could not be true. Of course, the chance to watch Jon struggle with his balance was the shiny chrome finish, but his intentions weren't all trickery. Once he had put enough distance between himself and the odd couple to be reasonably sure he would come out of this with both eyes, Tony crouched and gestured to BD again to keep following; Tony was supposed to have a partner here, too, and he could take this chance to get a close look at the droid all while getting a better sense of Cal's swordplay skills. "Don't worry about them, sweetheart, your guy's got this under control. Right?" It was going to be easier to observe how Cal thought he should introduce the skill to someone else and what combat looked like, than trying to live it and parse it for himself.

"...goodness." Jon mutters more to himself as he looks after the retreating droid, feeling just a little helpless despite the weight of this improvised sparring equipment in his hand. Which he shifts to hold it in both his hands, then slowly turns towards Cal, steps and face doubtful.

He sighs, dropping his shoulders.

"Fine... I'll do it." He tips his head back a little to look up at Cal and decides to trust that the Jedi won't willingly hurt him. At least not this very day.

"How- How do we start?"

BD-1 sounds an affirmative, but the next inquiry of beeps is directed at Tony as he asks why the man himself isn't volunteering or joining in.

Cal glances over and laughs. "I can get him in next," he assures, perhaps trying to make Jon feel a little better. Directing his attention once again to the Archivist, he smiles a little, giving him a nod when Jon finally just goes with it.

"I'm no Master Yoda, but I'll do my best. We'll start with a proper stance, first off. Feet apart- not too much. Do you favor your right or left?" He'll stand beside Jon to demonstrate how to position himself, whatever the response. "Shoulders back, but not too tensed, double-grip the hilt and just hold it up like so."

Tony didn't quite catch that question, but Cal filled in some context for him and Tony nodded as he sank further down to sit with crossed legs with BD on the floor; yeah, definitely, that was totally part of the plan and they weren't going to be ending this whole production the moment they were inevitably ferrying Jon to the hospital. For this brief moment in time and space, Tony wasn't the least jacked on the sparring mat, and he was not above taking his chance to feel a fraction of the joy Thor clearly felt when Tony pulled a muscle while trying to keep a hold on Carol. He didn't think he would laugh quite as much, but that depended on Jon.

To the droid, Tony wanted to keep him talking to figure out that grammatical structure, and find out what he was supposed to be for if it wasn't playback equipment, so he asked, "What is it that you usually do for Cal?" The relationship had to be codependent in some way.

If Jon has one thing going in his favor at least, it's the part where his body heals disturbingly fast by now. Even if he had to find out that particular detail when he tried to cut off one of his fingers. Still that doesn't mean it wouldn't hurt to be hit by a metal pipe.

And to his credit, he does make an attempt to follow Cal's directions. Though it's painfully obvious that he has never done anything even remotely similar his entire life. His posture and stance are awkward and paired with a thoroughly doubtful expression on his face that only gets surpassed by the tension that may well be holding his entire body together.

"I feel ridiculous." He observes with a glance at the metal between his hands. Just please ignore those awkward little wave-y motions he's doing with the fire iron in what may be an uneducated attempt at gauging its weight when in motion.

The last thing Cal wants to do is hurt anyone. He can still tell how anxious Jon is, and he's not so sure that it's something that will just dissipate after a few swings.

The weight of the weapon in question is a matter he'd forgotten to take into account, so when he sees the man trying to get an idea of its weight, he nods. "It takes some getting used to, true. You have the general idea. Now...show me how you'd swing the weapon." It might be easier to see how to go from there.

BD-1 looks from the two to Tony, bouncing a bit before launching into some enthusiastic hoots and beeps that entail his usual tasks of scanning and ziplining and crate diving, adventuring besides.

The chances for the anxiety to go away? Pretty low. The chance that Jon will stubbornly press on regardless? Actually remarkably high. Especially now that he has agreed to get along with... Oh, whatever it is they are even doing here.

So once Cal tells him to swing his... Weapon, Jon casts the younger man a short glance before focusing his attention back on the fire iron which he then raises and swings downwards in a diagonal ark with about as much force as a twelve-year-old and the balance of a toddler, causing him to stumble forward with an undignified yelp.

It may be pure luck that he manages to catch himself before tripping entirely and to his credit he reassumes the stance Cal has set him into before and tries with a few even less forceful sideways swings, trying not to feel too flustered by his initial display.

"...I suppose I'm not bludgeoning anyone today." He muses with some reluctance.

Thankfully Jon manages to recover his balance before Cal can reach out to try steadying him. He steps back again to allow the man space enough that he'd feel comfortable with swinging again. There's a crooked smile for the thought presented thereafter.

"Well, the point isn't to bludgeon anyone anyway, not if this really were a blade," the padawan points out. He takes up a position beside the Archivist again, if perhaps with a few steps worth of space between them. "At least you're not stiff when you're swinging. It's good to follow through the motion with the rest of your body, but control's also important. As you saw. Let's try this."

He nods to the fire iron before he takes up his own stance and goes through a few basic swings, taking a step with each before looking to Jon.

"...Christ..." The Archivist mutters while watching these basic swings. Memorizing them isn't the issue he is about to face, however. He doesn't exactly forget anything anymore. But replicating those movements is trickier than one might think.

At least it is for him, who hardly ever tries to accurately coordinate the various parts of his body at the same time. Maybe he would have an easier time if he had ever learned to dance or done some sort of sport growing up. But neither is the case and therefore his version of Cal's demonstration looks a lot more uncoordinated and at various moments confused with which limb is supposed to be going where.

And though he may look a little like a lost pigeon waving around a piece of iron, Jon sort of manages to combine steps and swings without further tripping over his feet. Sorry, Cal. But he's trying.

After a while of this, Jon stops, however. He should be feeling out of breath by now, shouldn't he? Or at least be getting tired. But even though these thoughts cross his mind, they aren't what he turns to Cal to ask about.

"Is it okay to imagine hitting someone dreadful while doing this?" Or should he feel bad about imagining swinging his fire iron at his boss...?

Edited (html) 2020-04-24 21:44 (UTC)

It's not easy, and Cal doesn't expect anyone to get things on the first go. It's takes practice and has taken years to hone his skills. That Jon can remember the movements enough to try mimicking them is certainly something, and for all that they aren't the most graceful, Cal can tell enough from the attempts.

Jon doesn't seem like the sort to use a weapon, and honestly, the padawan would rather hope he never has to. But with so many unknowns, maybe a little bit of an introduction won't hurt.

And if nothing else, stress relief.

"Heh, it wouldn't be something my teachers would ever have us do, but you're not training to be a Jedi," Cal chuckles. "If you think it'll help." He gestures for the man to go ahead. Maybe it'll help Jon loosen up, or at least get rid of some pent up frustration.

Jon offers a short shrug in response "I believe it does? Though I suppose this would be easier if I were training to be a Jedi..." His words trail off into a swing that takes off an imagined Elias' head. Flawed, maybe, but even Jon won't deny there to be something cathartic about combining this unexpected exercise with a bit morbid imagery.

And he adds a few more, focusing less on what his feet are doing and the angle of his hands or the arc of his swing. It seems easier when he tries less to analyze his own movements and rather tries to find new angles to split the mental image of Elias Bouchard.

Needless to say, Jon does get a little lost in this new, nonverbal way of venting. At least he makes up what he lacks in strength, elegance or skill with a certain enthusiasm.

Though he is the first to agree that he'd rather not have to engage in an actual fight with actual weapons.

Between Cal's gentle instructions and the whistling fly of their makeshift swords, and the babbling of BD-1, this space didn't feel so massively empty for a moment and Tony realized his shoulders had relaxed in a way that they hadn't since he had woken up on Risa, like they would while he was watching someone like Quicksilver dart around the training room while Tony took copious scans and suggested new equipment that could be of use. He couldn't really tell how irritating BD found Tony asking him to repeat himself several times, but the little guy seemed enthusiastic enough to share until Tony felt reasonably confident that he had a general picture of what his life with Cal was like, wherever they came from. It didn't sound like he had a particularly stable environment where he was supposed to be, either. With a hand out to coax BD to offer his own, Tony asked, "Do you mind?" hoping to better investigate the articulation of his hands, feet, stabilizers, and what exactly those wires might be for. Meanwhile, he continued, "Do you know what that crystal is, for the lightsaber?"

BD-1 doesn't seem to mind at all, well understanding that not everyone understood Binary. That Tony's even attempting to try is something he can appreciate.

Together with Cal he's gone to explore various worlds, slicing- which would amount to hacking- his way into various locked things that might otherwise have hindered their progress while they tried to stay alive. It seems a lot of parties just have it out for the poor padawan. Hardly a stable environment at all.

The boxlike head tips as though studying the hand Tony offers before the little droid shifts his balance to one of his feet, extending the other. They're the only limbs he has, but it obviously hasn't stopped him from getting around or climbing up things and people.

The question about the crystal is given pause, the droid hooting his response, basically a reiteration of its name, a kyber crystal. However that translates in Binary.

Meanwhile Cal watches as Jon gets into things. There's a definite difference between his movements than from the practice swings he'd first attempted. Structure, lines and stances can get in the way, but Cal's early Temple days had been made up of repetition, meditation and training of various methods. And then came the war, and he'd had to really see how well his lessons had held up when put into actual practice.

His mind drifts for a moment, even as he looks on as Jon wails upon his invisible target before he remembers himself and their present location. Whoever the man is envisioning, Cal wonders just what sort of relationship there had been between them.

"Not bad," he says, amusement coloring his tone. He brings up his pipe again. "Now how about trying to hit something that's actually there?"

Cal's words reach Jon in the middle of yet another quite liberating downward swing that the Archivist dares to feel a little proud of.

Blinking, he dislodges himself from his mental happy place and turns to look at the Padawan and the way the young man raises his pipe as part of his suggestion. And to his own surprise, he simply nods "Right. Trying can't hurt."

It's not a confidence usual to the Archivist by any means. But he does feel a little bold after swinging around a makeshift weapon in a surprisingly freeing way. He has even set aside that Tony has dragged him into this originally against his will. Maybe this crazy, insufferable man isn't entirely filled up with bad ideas. Maybe.

"I assume you want me to try and hit your pipe." Jon says as he walks over, fire iron in one hand while the other points at Cal's weapon. And there is less doubt in the Archivist's voice for a change. Less tension.

Those little ambulators were lovely pieces of machinery, complex systems to balance how topheavy this droid was and still be able to climb confidently. The wires seemed to be for some kind of interface, maybe for what he meant when he said 'slicing', but more notably, this foot wasn't all one original piece. "He's taking good care of you, hm?" Tony murmured, assuming the mechanic's skills must have been more useful than putting replicators back together. Whatever BD-1 had to say about the crystal did not register, though, and Tony gave a helpless shrug, not sure how to translate two languages at once without some kind of rosetta stone. "Does it generate energy, something like vibranium?" he asked, hoping if they shared most minerals, this one was among them and they weren't just trading phrases neither of them understood. Tony didn't wait for an answer, though, because Cal was squaring up and Tony had to point out, "Oh, this is the good part," to the droid, stretching his legs out to cross at the ankle and propping himself up on his hands.

The little droid beeps an affirmative. Cal had fixed his busted scomp link and given him useful upgrades, and BD-1 tells Tony as much. The query about energy and the kyber crystal gets an uncertain hoot, followed by a question as vibranium's a new thing to him.

BD-1 spins about as Tony makes himself comfortable and points out that things are about to be stepped up between Cal and Jon.

Jon's response prompts a bit more of a smile and an encouraging nod. Cal had thought he might decline, after all. Looks like the Archivist has gained more confidence in the whole exercise. It's a distinct change from how the man had been acting earlier. He grins briefly in Tony and BD-1's direction.

"Yeah. I'll hold it up for you to hit. I might move it a little, but I won't be striking back. For now, just think of it as a target," he suggests, getting a firmer grip on the pipe as he holds it outward, a default at-ready stance.

Jon takes a moment to cast Tony a look himself, but is quick to turn back to Cal as the Padawan assumes his own stance, then proceeds to do so himself, readjusting his own two-handed hold on the weapon currently in his possession.

"That doesn't sound too hard." He confirms the instruction, then lifts the fire iron for his first swing - And it hits with a metallic clang.

Cal may note a certain lack of force in the impact, but that is plain the Archivist's very own lack of actual strength. Most of the force in these hits stems from the swing itself and the weight of the iron. But he has been told to hit the target, and so he will.

"Now, look," Tony started his commentary for BD-1, one hand up to point between his subjects as he casted in a controlled whisper like he sat green-side at a game of golf. They would get back to the vibranium and the crystals. "Cal's been training his whole life for this match, he's confident, look at that smile. Some might say cocky, you've got to look out for that attitude, its been the downfall of many a...Jedi...Sword-fight...Man," Tony stumbled, he was going to have to workshop the name of this sport, but pressed on bombastically, "does he have the skills to back it up? Jon is a newcomer to the ring, a fresh-faced fighter, obviously in the prime of his youth, just recently graduating from the amateur league, an absolute unknown on the field and isn't that exciting for all of us today, here, at the Jedi-Sword-Man Ampitheatre? If I were you, I'd let it all ride on Mr. Sims because the payout is bound to be massive. And here comes the first swing!...And it hits, it does make contact, the audience is on the edge of their seats."

The little droid glances at Tony and then back at the two, his head tilting from one side to the other as the man takes on the part of an announcer. Tony's words are more exciting than what's actually going on that BD-1 figures the poor guy's just that bored.

Cal's not feeling cocky so much as relieved that all the heaviness of concerns with weapons have been put behind them for the moment. He bobs his head in a nod as Jon's iron connects, not nearly as forceful as he'd expected after seeing the intent of the Archivist's earlier swings.

"Keep at it," he encourages, keeping the pipe where it is so Jon can at least get a feel for hitting something solid before Cal switches up the position of his makeshift weapon.

Well, hitting a metal pipe sure is different than hitting your imaginary boss. Jon still puts more intensity into his hits once he has gotten a feeling for- Well. Hitting a metal pipe with a fire iron.

Once or twice his mind does drift off, though. Back down into the tunnels below the Archives. Back to being chased by the Not Them. Back to trying to convince himself he could do any damage to anything with a metal pipe he could hardly carry. And it's that thought along with the frustration it brings along that results in a notably stronger strike from the Archivist, the noise of metal meeting metal louder and sharper.

Tony's commentary? Not truly registering for Jon at the moment. Not while he's beginning to focus on striking actual monsters.

The things Tony did because he was bored were far more self-destructive, but the lack of reaction in the room certainly wasn't what he was hoping for and BD-1 might have been dangerously close to witnessed Tony at bored. He continued, "The standing champion is on the defense early. We'll have to see if this is a ploy to get Jon to let his guard down, or the new kid has really got him backed against the ropes. He's really taking those hits! It's a slaughter! Can he recover from this or are we finally going to see our champ go down-- Ooh!" With that last hit, Tony's voice changed, abandoning his sotto voce commentary to directly address the combatants of his play, "You alright, Cal?" It wasn't really a question about Cal's ability to manage Jon's clumsy swings.

Beside Tony, BD-1 flinches with the sharp sounds accompanying Jon's attacks. Didn't know the guy had it in him! As Tony continues to babble on, the little droid looks him over before attempting to clamber on up and onto his shoulder, as though that new perch will provide him with a better view of things.

The padawan can feel the strikes as they gradually grow more intense, more sure. Whatever Jon's thoughts have drifted off to, it doesn't seem pleasant. There's that underlying sense of frustration.

Cal takes a step back as the strikes continue to ring out, shifting his foot, the angle of the pipe. A better position to absorb the mounting force issued with each swing of Jon's fire iron.

"I'm fine-" he manages between the ringing of metal, his eyes not leaving the Archivist. Letting his own attention slip would be dangerous, and while earlier he'd been amused at the man's focus and ability for a simple change of mindset, he's now cautious about making sure Jon doesn't accidentally hurt anyone, himself included.

The changeling is the first being Jon's mind sets as his target. He still remembers that creature well. The one that took Sasha then took her place and it still infuriates him that it simply erased any memory of his actual assistant and that all that is left of the actual Sasha are the few recordings of her voice on some of his tapes. Tapes that the powers of the monster couldn't alter despite how easily it replaced Sasha everywhere else.

Prentiss makes another worthwhile target. The image of her hole-riddled body still so vividly burned into Jon's mind from her attack on the Archive. Then there are the hunters. Who still pose a threat, and it's unlikely that Jon would be able to take either of them on himself, but right there and then it feels good to drive some iron against their skills. Of course Elias shows up again, if only because Jon has never met Peter and Elias is well enough to blame for whatever the avatar of the Lonely is dragging Martin into. Trying to attack the ever winding corridors isn't half as satisfying.

But then there is the mannequin, of course. A voice that makes Jon glad he doesn't sleep anymore. And for not having dreams of his own any longer should he try. Wandering the nightmares is preferable to reliving the Unknowing. Nikola has cost him a lot. And for all she has taken and caused, she deserves every harsh and every imperfect hit. Every swing that shatters plastic and bones and tears through leather and stolen skin.

Outside of his own mindscape, the Archivist has worked himself into a bit of a frenzy, beating down on that target before him with an intensity that matches his glare, but not quite the lack of actual breathing.

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