forum Political intrigue and teenage spies might just be the worst molotov cocktail ever. // oxo // CLOSED

Started May 25, 2020 by @croccin-champagne

tune

Aaru let out a metered sigh. A glitch in the system. Irreversible. How marvelous.
Now everything (at least, in Aaru's mind) hinged on the success of his team. And his team was 50% Canary.
50%.
A headache started to pound in his skull. He forced himself to ignore it altogether, focusing on Director Archer's question. He hesitated while he considered it. Since asking for a new team member wasn't an option, and asking for anything else made him feel weak or needy, he responded with, "Thank you, Director, but I think I can handle everything alright."
It wasn't his ability to handle it that he was worried about. Okay, well, maybe the thought of having so much pressure on his shoulders did make him a tad nervous, but he wasn't going to admit that— not even to himself. But the thought of having to partially rely on someone as incompetent as Canary?
Why didn't they just shoot him now and get it over with so that they didn't have to face the humiliation of failing miserably?
He paused within himself, thinking. Something seemed a little off here, something that confused him. And if Aaru hated anything, he hated being confused.

"If you're sure, then. Remember, my door is always open. And, Mr. Kerr, there is no shame in letting someone help you. Nobody can be expected to handle everything, as nobody is perfect." Director Archer had a particular skill that seemed nearly supernatural, and that was, it seemed, an ability to nearly read minds. Canary had experienced it first hand a million times, even if she wasn't aware now what was happening. "Yes, even you, Canary."

The girl closed her mouth, a genuine crinkle to her eyes as she nodded. "Well, this has been fun, Elise, but Rico's waiting for me. He's gonna yell at me about my homework for the next fifteen minutes, before grilling me about this whole thing." Ricardo Guerrero, one of the few people who could mutually always stand Canary. He was in the top percentile of all of his classes, except for physical ones, and known to be one of the best hackers and tech experts in the school. People liked to speculate, on why someone like him was friends with someone like Canary. Still, since the moment they'd met, nothing had been able to tear them apart. "See you next misdemeanor?"

Director Archer sighed, waving a hand. "I do wish you would come in here on good behavior, not bad. But yes, you both are free to go. Please begin packing soon, as you'll be temporarily placed in the trial-goer's dorm. Not too much is needed, just enough to make you feel at home. Please, ask me any questions you may have."

Canary lifted her hand in a two fingered salute, standing from her chair and slipping out the door. Almost hurriedly.

((sorry for the big word dumps!! this is one of those times where it kind of calls for it on my end, with two characters being actively used))

((No need for apologies! I like big word dumps. And I know Rico is only a vaguely mentioned character, but yet, somehow I already love the idea of him.))

Aaru smiled and offered a grateful nod at the director's words, but something about the statement nobody is perfect grated against him. He was well aware of the fact that he wasn't perfect, but he didn't need to be reminded of it, and he most certainly wasn't willing to give up on the idea that he couldn't be. He stood slowly, brushing his shirt free of any wrinkles that may have formed while he was sitting. "Alright. Thank you, Director." He thought about throwing in a good evening, but that sounded too formal and a bit too desperate to be friendly, so he trashed the idea and left his farewell at that before stepping out the door.
Shouldn't he have been excited? He'd been chosen to represent his school for a very important trial. He had been chosen.
But it didn't really mean that much when the other person chosen was possibly the worst in the school.

((he's a very socially awkward boy who's the entire opposite of canary in that he likes not having attention drawn to him, though he does enjoy a good bright hawaiian shirt))

Canary made it exactly as far as the hallway before the full force of what was going to transpire hit her. The wave of consequence had her on the floor, pushed up against the wall with her knees tucked to her chest as she counted her breathing.

She was safe here. This had to be one of the safest places she could ever find herself, beside an island in the middle of the Caribbean. Elise had promised safety. The government had promised safety. I won't end up like my parents, today or years down the line. She had made it too far for that. Had left behind everything to avoid that.

But if she wound up competing, a target would be drawn right on her back. And she knew some very good shooters who would love a chance at her. That's what happens when you get comfortable. Lada taught you that.

((… I… I love him.))

"Canary?" Aaru's eyes fell on the girl as she huddled against the wall. His tone betrayed a little more concern than he'd intended. After all, he didn't care much for her. He didn't even know her, really, aside from vaguely knowing how big of a joke she was. Aside from hearing the other students make fun of her and occasionally chuckling alongside them. Would he be a joke now, too? Now that he was permanently associated with her due to this competition? If they failed, he could already hear the comments about the both of them circulating around the school…
No; he didn't care about her remotely. It would just be a bit inconvenient for him if his partner for this whole ordeal were to have some kind of heart attack before the competitions.
Then again, he might've been better off without her.
But, for the sake of his own decency, it was only right of him to acknowledge that she, too, was a human being— even if a somewhat questionable one. "Are you alright?"

((he's the reason i bought a hawaiian shirt, and i'm glad you love him too))

Canary let out a choked noise as Aaru spoke, realizing she hadn't quite made it fast enough to have a moment. Great. It wouldn't be long until there was another thing added to the list of reason she was a joke in this school. One that she didn't plan. Breathe.

It took her a bit to answer, still shaking and just barely spitting the words out as it felt like her entire world was collapsing around her. Her carefully crafted world. The one in which she was safe, in which she could have friends. And maybe, just maybe, not a great future, but one nonetheless.

"P-It's a-a panic….panic attack." She stated, so matter of fact considering what was happening, the breath that had stolen itself from her lungs, the chaos in her head she just had to breathe to get rid of. "Just-just give me a…a minute. Then I'll be-normal."

((He is the best boy. No, the best boi.))

"Oh—" Aaru frowned a little— almost sympathetically. Not for her, specifically, for her situation. Panic attacks weren't fun; he knew that first hand. Though, despite having had plenty of them in his own life, he had no idea what the best thing to do for someone having a panic attack would be.

After a few seconds of considering and hesitating, he stepped closer to her and crouched down beside her— careful to keep enough distance between them that they weren't touching or anything awkward like that. "Do you need… anything?"

Again, he reminded himself these questions weren't because they were friends— because they certainly weren't. But, whether he liked it or not, they were allies, and nobody would gain from him being a total— uh, jerk to her. If he was going to be stuck with her, he needed to at least make it clear to himself— and anyone around— that he still had somewhat decent character and was not easily unraveled. Not even by being teamed up with Canary.

Though he had nothing to prove it, his first assumption was that she was panicking because she had been chosen and she wasn't any good. He, too, wanted to have a panic attack over the fact that she was chosen, but he refused to do so, because that would certainly be a show of weakness— and he didn't have time for that.

"I don't….don't know I-" Canary squeezed her eyes shut, burying her face in her arms to hide the tears threatening to push forth. She would not cry in front of Aaru. In front of anyone. Whatever she said next was muffled, and she herself wasn't even sure what had come out of her mouth. Let alone what she needed.

Usually, Rico could solve this by holding her hand. All he had to do was hold her hand, and she could ground herself. But how was she supposed to ask Aaru to do that? To let her touch him at all? Simply put, she shouldn't even consider it. That wasn't something she had the luxury of doing, because he pretty much hated her, and he was, functionally, a stranger. But the weight on her chest wasn't easing. All it did was grow and grow and she felt like she was choking on the panic, and nothing she did made it any easier to breath.

"Hand-I-…your hand." She finally said, clear enough to be heard despite her hidden face and muffled voice. Shaky and quiet. There was none of her casual bravado, nothing left but the bare bones of a girl who had nothing left but the false comfort she had crafted and was losing. "If you don't-don't mind I-…grounding. You don't-ugh."

Under any other circumstance, Aaru would've definitely said no. To be associated with this girl was one thing, and already bad enough; to hold hands with her was another. But this was an exception— an exception in which, if he didn't agree, anyone who knew about it would probably consider him incredibly selfish and lacking in compassion whatsoever.
And, rightfully so. He personally couldn't justify a reason not to help her.
Besides, he was already associated with her, and there would be no undoing that. Yes, that sucked, but right now she was too compromised, too broken, for him to ignore her. And if he did, he'd have to deal with his conscience.
Because, even if he had no idea what the exact cause of her panic attack was, he knew what it like to be in that place— and to be alone in it.
His hand sought out hers, and he gripped it firmly— but not so tight as to cause her any discomfort. "Here." He contemplated only a few seconds before wrapping his other hand around hers as well, so that her hand was between both of his. "Breath, Canary," he said— his tone softer and carrying more sympathy than it had in any words he'd exchanged with her previously. He could go back to hating her once she was mentally stable enough to handle it, but right now, she wasn't.

She hadn't expected him to actually do it. Had she asked? Yes. But that didn't mean any part of her was expecting to find her hand in his, a point for her to focus on. And once she had that focal point, the storm began to slow just a tiny bit.

Canary gripped his hand tightly, though there wasn't enough strength in her at that moment for anything more than a slight squeezing. Still, she held steadfast. It took what felt like forever–on her end–for a full breath to make it into her lungs, and soon she was repeating the mantra Rico had found on the internet. In, count, out, count. Though full, the breaths themselves were fragile and trembling, like thin ice under the weight of a person's shoe.

But as she kept breathing, they began to strengthen. Gods, she wasn't looking forward to the aftermath. But what mattered was getting through it first.

And she did, slowly, with Aaru's help. They had to have been there for at least five minutes before she could even breathe properly, let alone speak. When she could, there was nothing but grateful relief in her tone.

"Thanks. Thank you. I-sorry, for the bother." Still shaking, she relaxed her grip on his hand, lifting her face away from him to wipe at her eyes. "Shoulda tried to make it to the bathroom. Then you wouldn't get the pleasure of seeing me crack."

"Hm." Aaru let his grip on her hand go slack. A beat passed, and when he decided she was steadied enough, he slowly released her hand altogether. "Who said I got any pleasure from that?" He studied her a moment, this odd girl. How confusing she was. "No need to apologize. I understand." He hoped she wouldn't misinterpret that— and, by misinterpret, he meant correctly decipher that to mean that he used to regularly have his own panic attacks.
Ah, she wouldn't. He felt that the comment was vague enough not to be seen through.
He stood to his feet. "Are you good now?"

"I understand."

What a strange way to phrase that. Shoving that tidbit aside for later, Canary nodded, standing on slightly unsteady legs. Just as quick as they had been wobbling, they were fine. On the outside, at least. She still felt like curling up on the floor, but she would make it to Rico's dorm. His dormmate never minded her late night visits, either, one of few who would.

"Y'know how many students here would love t' see a spectacle like that?" She asked, tilting her head. Exhaustion weighed heavy on her mind already, too drained to bother keeping her words even slightly in check. "Heck, I know a bunch of people outside this school who would kill to." Literally. With a snort, she reached up, tugging a hand through her hair and messing it up.

"Look. I know you won't want people knowing you've affiliated yourself with me outside of any sort of prep for the Games. So, let's strike a deal. You don't tell, I don't tell. Keeps our images safe."

(Sorry, this is quite brief!)

"Hm." Aaru looked at her for a moment, as if he were considering it. But there wasn't much to consider. He had no desire to repeat this little episode to anyone.
And it wasn't like he had any close friends to tell, anyway.
"Tell what?" he asked with obviously feigned ignorance.

Canary let out a semi-choked snort, before bursting into laughter muffled by her fist. Once she had calmed down, she shot him a lopsided smile, winking. "Y'know, if we'd met under different circumstances, I would've liked you a whole lot. Too bad you still would've hated me." She shrugged, mismatched eyes glancing down the hallway.

"Since you're probably aching to get away from here, don' let me hold you up." Canary started off down the hall, turning to walk backwards and shoot him her two fingered salute. "Have a nice night, Kerr. I'll see you tomorrow. Get pumped, 'cause we're gonna win this thing." If I'm not dead before the second round.

Aaru wasn't quite sure how tot take her comment, so he didn't take it as anything. His only response was a simple, detached, "Goodnight," as she walked away. That was all that was required. His work here was done.

He made his way back to his own room, his mind wandering the entire time, going through the list of things he needed to do. He needed to pack his things— clothes and all the necessities and whatnot— and he needed to prepare himself mentally for what was to come. To psyche himself up to win— but also to be prepared to face nearly inevitable failure with as much dignity as possible. What would happen if he— er, they— failed? The question was enough to make him sick to his stomach, though he had no idea what the answer really was.

((do we want to show the debriefing message i mentioned earlier, would we rather skip to drama elsewhere, such as a class or something? honestly we could even have them continue to interact with roommates here if we wanted))

It was hardly nine in the morning, and the students in Sgt. Meyers' class were already getting ready for a mess of physical activity.

To be more specific, one on one hand to hand. Sparring.

They were outside in the courtyard today, the Sargent having decided that everyone could use some fresh air while the day was just a little nice. The air was crisp, the orange and golden leaves on the trees making it obvious that fall was there. Halloween was soon to come, something quite a few students were thrilled for. The Games and Halloween meant some sort of fun event. And normally, holidays were for going to home to family, with this one being mostly un-celebrated here at Norwood.

Canary was off to the side of the small patch of grass that had been declared the sparring area, currently on the ground and twisted into some sort of pretzel like stretch as she spoke to the two boys also warming up beside her. She was dressed in shorts that were almost hot pants, and a form fitting yellow tank top, hair pulled up and revealing the tattoo that was normally hidden behind her ear.

"Ugh, I hate sparring. Hate it. Can't do it. I'm going back to my dorm to cry and sleep." The tallest boy muttered, fidgeting with the hem of his t-shirt as he straightened from stretching. Rico's glasses were perched on his nose, his only pair of contacts missing somewhere in the mess that his room was. His dormmate huffed out a laugh, slapping his shoulder before reaching up to ruffle his hair.

"Don't worry, Guerrero. You'll do fine." Caleb Martin was a fighter, and built like one. He was known for being one of the best students in his year at any physical activities, particularly the kind that required some sort of violence. Despite that, he was a clown at heart. Always ready with a joke to bring levity to a situation, or there to offer a hug when someone was down. He was one of Canary's favorite people.

"Yeah! Just remember, protect your face and chest, never throw the first punch unless you're going to end it first, and don't stop in one place too long." Canary said, tilting her head back to look at him upside down. "Stay on your feet at all times. And don't fight dirty in front of Sarge or he'll probably beat you with one of his boots." That elicited a scared laugh. It was strange, the sound advice she gave, despite her record of slacking off in this class.

Hand-to-hand was one of Aaru's strong points, so he had no qualms with sparring. The only thing that he didn't look forward to about this activity was waiting to find out who he would be sparring with. There were some students who were a challenge for him— and he actually enjoyed fighting them, due to some kind of mutual respect for their skills— but there were also some who were rather laughable when it came to fighting, and there was no enjoyment when victory came so easy.

Aaru stood a little ways off from everyone else— far enough to be alone, but not close enough as to not make himself stand out or seem too weird— while he warmed himself up. He wore a dark grey, sleeveless shirt, leaving his light brown arms— and a few odd scars— exposed. But, for sparring, no-sleeves made everything easier for him, so it was worth it. Even though it was well warm enough that he could've wore shorts, had he desired to, Aaru wore his typical full-length combat style pants— he had about three of the exact same pair so that he could always wear them— tucked into matching combat boots. Shorts were an automatic no for him. He hated them. Maybe it was because they were unprofessional. Or because he didn't like his legs being exposed.

Aaru's moment of silence and solitude was interrupted when a boy around his age— albeit a few inches shorter— came over. With his blond hair all mussed, shirt untucked, and glasses askew, Chess looked like he'd already been through several rounds of sparring. He hadn't, though. Somehow, no matter how hard he tried, he always ended up looking like that within five minutes of leaving his dorm. It aggravated Aaru, because Chess was his roommate, so they had an unfortunate and unavoidable association.
But Chess's undone appearance was only the third most annoying thing about him. The second was that he talked so fast Aaru could hardly keep up with him. The first was that he was an incredibly clingy extrovert who had somehow got the idea in his head that Aaru was his friend rather than just the guy who tolerated him out of necessity.

"It's been awhile since I've sparred anyone." Chess reached up to straighten his glasses and nearly knocked them off of his face in the process. "Not my forte, really." He grinned a bit. "But it is one of yours. I'd bet you are excited, yeah?"

Aaru blinked, avoiding direct eye contact with Chess and silently begging the Universe to make Chess go find someone else to bug. "Excited is a strong word." He glanced once around the field. He spotted Canary, though he refused to let his eyes linger there for long. Unfortunately, his thoughts did linger— specifically on the upcoming competition. It's a horrible thing to realize that perhaps Chess would've even been a better companion for the Games. At least Chess still had some skills, even if he was as annoying as a house fly.

"Who are you going to spar?"

Aaru almost debated sparring Chess, because it would give him a good excuse to hit the guy— but, then again, willingly participating in anything with Chess might further the false impression that they were friends. Better to play it safe and avoid him altogether. "Someone within my skill set, preferably," Aaru said dully.

Chess didn't seem bothered by the statement. The aggravating boy never seemed bothered by much, really. "Oho. That might be kind of tricky to find." He grinned. Aaru did not. "Anyway, I don't know who I'll spar, either. I'll find someone around here somewhere. Or maybe the Sargent will pair people up."

"Mm." Aaru didn't really like that idea. He could end up with anybody on this field.

Canary, used to putting more effort into stretching than actually participating in the class, flipped to her stomach, only to bend into a circular shape while holding her feet. She rocked back and forth, still chatting idly with Rico in an attempt to soothe his nerves. She and Caleb tag teamed it, each of them knowing what conversation topics and things helped take his mind off of the task ahead of them. It showed. His fidgeting slowed down a bit, the nervous tremor in his voice easing as he began to laugh with them after a joke had been made.

The warmups didn't last too long, and the Sargent blew his whistle to gain the class' attention.

"Listen up, ants." Meyers started, his voice loud and commanding attention. Not that it had to be, as most students were at least a little bit afraid of him. Even Canary held some respect for him, despite her general distaste of authority. He was good at what he did, and turned out good fighters form his class. Even if they had started out less than promising. That was commendable enough, but her favorite part was that he preferred teaching students how to learn from their mistakes, as opposed to mocking them.

"Today's class is more a skill assessment than a learning activity, though I expect each of you to come out of this with something new in mind, be it about how others fight, what you need to work on, or the strengths of you and your classmates. In honor of the Games coming up, today's sparring will be styled like a bracket tournament, with the winners of each round competing. Those that show the most improvement, skill, quick thinking, and the winner themself, will earn extra credit points towards the overall grade of this class. Understood?"

There was a resounding 'yes sir!', and Meyers' lips twitched slightly, like he was trying not to smile. "Good. Now, I'm letting you ants choose your partners this time around. Try to pick someone you're evenly matched with, or who you think you could learn a thing or two from. This time, though, I'm letting the rules be expanded a bit. Underhanded tricks are allowed to a certain extent, to judge creativity. Because in the real world, nobody fights fair. No causing permanent injuries, though, or you'll be sitting out the rest of the class."

With that, students began milling about, the trio agreeing that they wouldn't choose each other as their beginning partners. As Caleb split off and Canary stood there on her communications device, waiting for whoever got stuck with her as a last pick, Rico slipped away, approaching Aaru.

"Uh-excuse me." He greeted nervously, that tremor back in his voice. Not coming too close to Aaru–a big believer in personal space with strangers, and his own friends–he lifted a hand in a wave as he spoke. "Is there, uh, any chance we could partner? If you don't want to that's perfectly fine, I just, see…"

Rico sighed, eyes on the ground as he fidgeted with his shirt some more. "I don't want to advance, at all. I really don't like things like this, and I'm pretty bad at them, especially as more pressure is placed on me. I was hoping that someone like you, who's like, really good at this, would be willing to spar with me, because then I know I'll loose no matter how much I put into it. That way, I can stand to the side and support everyone else who wants to win this." He explained, stuttering his way through a couple sentences. In times like this, it was really evident how different he and Canary were, almost to the point where one wondered how they became friends in the first place.

((once again, there's no need to type such long responses lmao, it's just one of Those moments, with multiple characters and things happening))