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[prizeneck]

[At the equivalent of 03:45 AM, you're getting a voice message because fuck your text feature. ]

Right, question.

Actually two.



First: Imagine you're being chased for a long time. You're unarmed, and yer injured. About to keel over. You can only carry one thing as you're running: a cell phone [a pause, and a rustle - he's waving his hand] or whatever you people use to communicate; or some food.

Which one do you take, and why?



Second question: who here can deal with high tech gadgets? I got a thing that needs checking before we head to the next mission.

Comments

[prizeneck]

[Even though he's blind, he notices when people rest their eyes on him. Occupational hazard, always making sure he's not being tailed, reading the intent out of them from sheer survival instincts. Still, he merely sensed curiosity - a casual kind of warmth at the back of his neck when he lunged, the lack of glitter in the air noticeable from every other task.

When William approaches, he makes two and two easily.] Right, the sleepy guy.

[He's a newcomer, or at least, a recruit that hadn't made to Gallipoli in the early stages of the mission.] Sure. [He draws something from his pocket - a bit of rubber that he ripped out of an isolation strip of a door leading to an unused room. It had been peeling out anyway. He sticks it on the tip of his rapier.] Lead the way.

[omniavincit]

I'm willing to bet there's more than one person matching that description this morning. [ That curiosity—earnestly, playfully inquisitive, like running your fingers over the keys of a piano—doesn't go away. He watches the blind man fit a piece of rubber to the end of his sword, about as fine a display of control as he could ask for.

Lead the way. Well, then.

William doesn't have a particular destination in mind, and so they're steered by muscle memory and personal preference to the library. Along the way he says: ] You have a name? Or do you want me calling you "the insomniac"?

[prizeneck]

[He snorts, lowering his chin and tilting his head as he takes in whoever is moving to his place in practice absently.] "The audibly sleepy guy in my network" is too much of a mouthful.

Hijikata Mamoru. [He frowns while he follows.] Or, Mamoru Hijikata. The previous way is the order you say it in Japanese.

[He rolls his shoulders, making sure that his back stretches enough while he's at rest. ] So how familiar are you with this type of tech?

[omniavincit]

[ He hesitates—not long. The span of a breath. ] Mamoru. [ The man prodding everybody about teamwork can stand for a little familiarity.

William arches an eyebrow, gives a considering shake of his head, and wonders how much of that's lost on the other man. ] I'll need a closer look to really know. Not intimately—if you need them repaired, we might be in trouble, but calibration... [ There's a promising lilt to the word. ] It's Japanese?

[prizeneck]

[He nods. While he's used to the Japanese way of addressing a person, it's fine either way that people call him by his first name. Maybe he has been hanging out too much with people he could now consider close.]

International project, kinda. State of the art where I come from, but apparently rudimentary to some of the people here. [You'd think that a man that wears these shades as a lifeline would be reluctant in handing them out. With Mamoru, it's not the case. Deft fingers pluck them out from the bridge of his nose and hand them out to them. Not only he's confident on what he can do without them, he knows COST wouldn't really benefit with him not being able to do what he does best at the highest of his ability.] See for yourself.