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capthepoint2013-04-15 09:43 pm
snipingblus.livejournal.com) wrote in capthepoint2013-04-15 09:43 pm
Rp Log: Suddenly Mutewell Part 2
Who: Spy, Dok, Hugh and Orwell
When: 11th April
Where: Outside
What: Second opinions
snipingblus: So decisive. *snorts and gets off the back of the sofa* Well, I have no idea how long this will take so I may as well come along for the journey at the very least and I can help if need be. *that is his cue to step around the sofa and head for the door* Come on then.
high_falootin: ./Orwell follows along with little hesitation, doing his best not to look like he's entirely unenthused about this. He tucks the notepad under his arm, slipping the pencil back behind his ear as he catches up to Hugh. Here is where communication was going to be hard--as a result, the Engineer simply bit his tongue for all the good that would do, resolving that he could actually give it a shot when they found Bleu. It'd likely go better then as well; that would be something he'd be glad for.
snipingblus: *well, he seems pleased enough that Orwell is willing to follow along and he leads him out to explore the further reaches of the base. They hadn't uncounted the Spy when they were fighting earlier so it made sense that she would maybe be further afield.* Just keep an eye out for her. Wave if you see her, it would certainly get her attention.
high_falootin: ./The look he shoots Hugh is meant to convey something along the lines of 'she's a Spy, how do we even find her'. That being said, all it appears to be is a slightly incredulous look that lasts only a moment before he rolls his eyes and starts looking around. She's got to be around here somewhere--the problem is just the matter of figuring out where.
sapoteur: *Spy was up field, in fact. She hadn't headed back to base yet, as she preferred to collect the cash the robots left behind in order to have a bank for immediate upgrades when the next attack came. She was leaning against a large rock and flicking through the stack of bills quickly, counting up*
snipingblus: *when he spots her he smiles briefly and he waits until they are a bit closer before calling over* Good evening ma'am!
high_falootin: ./He decides to hang back for now, letting Hugh talk to her first in order to better work things out. It's not like he can make any snippy comments, but he'd still rather not deal with it just yet. The Sniper could explain the situation a hell of a lot better than he could right now, along with not using any more paper than was needed. A proper choice, then.
sapoteur: *quite surprised to see Sniper coming to find her out here. And the Engineer too? How curious.* Bonsoir, Sniper. Engineer. *smiles and puts the money away in her breast pocket* Is everything all right? *it didn't look like trouble, but it was unusual to sought out all the same*
snipingblus: Not quite. As it turns out respawn has been unkind to Engineer in an usual way and he is hopeful that you will be able to help him. *he gestures for Orwell to come closer* He does however seem to be a bit shy about it and you'll have to forgive him for not giving a proper greeting, he can't actually speak at the moment.
high_falootin: ./Orwell doesn't exactly look pleased at that last comment, though it isn't directed at Hugh. He steps forward after a second of fiddling with the notebook, preemptively opening it up and retrieving the pencil. He gives Bleu a short shrug, grimacing slightly.
sapoteur: * : [] * How unfortunate. *for Engineer anyway. Whatever help he might want from her, though, might turn out to be a worthwhile bargaining chip. Still, that respawn was debilitating him even further than usual was unsettling* *to Engineer* Are you feeling well otherwise? Have you let Medic know yet?
high_falootin: ./He gives a nod to the first question, pausing for a frustrating moment before shaking his head for the second. With simple answers like that, he wasn't going to bother writing anything down--it would just make things more difficult in the long run. The BLU decides not to wait further and tries mouthing something--he's asking her if she can read lips. Try not to look so hopeful there, Orwell.
snipingblus: *he steps a bit to the side, glancing between the two and deciding not to but in until it's actually needed. The more Orwell asks for on his own, he thinks, the better.*
sapoteur: *she watches intently, but she cannot make out what he's trying to say* I am sorry, Engineer. I do not understand.
high_falootin: ./Aaand he deflates. With a defeated sigh, he starts writing, biting his lip the entire time.| 'I was hoping to not have to use paper. It appears there is little I can do about that.' /He sure doesn't look happy about it, either. Glancing over at Hugh, he gives his teammate a faintly pleading look, knowing full well that the Sniper would at least be able to get words across in some sort of efficient manner.
snipingblus: *he's not really aware of what Orwell wrote but he guesses that a better explanation of the situation is wanted.* This appears to be a respawn issue more than a medical one. Red Engineer has some experience dealing with the machines when they are not working properly. Since you speak to him most days it was thought you could maybe help talk this all over. Also, I am running low on paper to give him and if you happen to have some it would be greatly appreciated.
sapoteur: I see. I have spoken to the other Engineer about this problem before. He suggested that perhaps there is something wrong with Engineer's template and it causes respawn to rebuild him incorrectly, but he did not know of any way to fix it. I will see if I cannot get him to think on it further though. But paper? Oui, I have some you may have. *yes, that would do well enough, she supposed* Though I must make a stipulation.
high_falootin: ./He pauses, eyeing her critically for a moment before gesturing for her to continue. Might as well give this a shot, even if he's fairly certain it's going to be something he isn't going to be fond of.
sapoteur: The only paper I have is my stationary. It was made specially for me. It is known to be mine. So I would ask that you not write anything on it that I would not have written myself. *puts on an apologetic look* Things could get rather awkward for me if someone found a piece of my stationary with anything less than ladylike on it.
high_falootin: ./He snorts, shaking his head with an amused expression. That was a lot easier than what he'd been expecting, really.| 'I've still got the use of my fingers for such things. It will be fine.'
snipingblus: *he leans over to read what Orwell had to say then swats his arm*
sapoteur: * : | * I do wish you would exercise some restraint, Engineer. It is rather unbecoming for someone of your standing.
high_falootin: ./He huffs at Hugh, pulling a face almost immediately after when Bleu speaks up. Shaking his head, he turns the page to an empty one.| 'It was a joke. I am not in the mood to start any fights, regardless.'
snipingblus: In all seriousness you /have/ been reasonably polite today all things considered. *to Bleu* And thank you for agreeing to help. I'm not sure that if I was the only one we would be entirely capable of tolerating just each other for the whole time. As it is it must be a record breaking length of time getting along.
pocketdok: :he comes outside for a breather; it was getting warmer and inside was getting stuffier. He must not have been he only one as he happened upon others as he stepped out: Afternoon.
sapoteur: Medic! *more pleasant surprises* We were just speaking of you. *some of them, anyway*
pocketdok: :quirks a brow: Of me? What did I do?
high_falootin: ./At sight of the Medic, Orwell can't help but cringe, rubbing his throat a little. He nods by means of greeting, looking once again to Hugh.
sapoteur: *amused snort* Nothing.
snipingblus: Nothing bad. *he catches Orwell looking at him* Engineer may have some need of your help is all. He can't speak, respawn is not fixing the problem.
pocketdok: :that caught his interest: Oh? Are ve all in favor of fixing zis or is zis a discussion on how it is a blessing? :dryly:
high_falootin: ./That's more than enough to get him to tense up, straightening and fixing the RED with a very clear glare. All he does is tap his pencil on the paper, exhibiting some form of restraint instead of scrawling insults.,
snipingblus: We need everyone to be able to communicate in battle sir.
sapoteur: *reproachful* Medic, really. *still, Bleu's not willing to completely hide her amusement*
pocketdok: I know, I know, I am kidding.
snipingblus: If you were willing to have a look it would be greatly appreciated. *glances at Orwell* Wouldn't it?
high_falootin: ./Judging by the look on his face, Orwell doesn't really believe that. Just lost a fair but of points there, Medic.| 'I fail to see how this is something to be joked about. Please do enlighten me as to how that was appropriate.' /At Sniper's comment, he wrinkles his nose, giving a begrudging nod.
pocketdok: :looks at the note: Vould you like me to make a list or vould you like me to assess your situation? :being serious now:
high_falootin: ./His frown twitches down into a scowl, and he shuts the notebook abruptly, tucking it under his arm. It's safe to assume that he isn't looking for a list of any sort right now.
pocketdok: I vill take zat as you vould like ze latter, zen.
snipingblus: The help would be greatly appreciated.
sapoteur: *just watching this. Come on, Orwell. Have some class. You can do it.*
pocketdok: : thoughtful chin stroke: So, vhen did zis start, exactly?
snipingblus: Today from what I have gathered? *needs some confirmation here*
high_falootin: ./He grits his teeth, forcing himself to open the notebook again and pretty much gouge out the first two words.| 'Thank you.' /If looks could kill, though. He glances over at Hugh, giving a nod.| 'Correct. A Sniperbot did not make as clean a headshot as was intended, and then the problem started.'
snipingblus: *leaning over to read the note so he knows what else to add* He's since had a few respawns and some time next to a dispenser.
pocketdok: :thinking as he reads and listens: Do you know vhere ze shot hit you, exactly?
high_falootin: ./He taps the front of his throat, expression turning faintly queasy. That hadn't been a fun death at all, and the outcome was just as bad, if not worse. In his opinion, anyway.
pocketdok: Vell, zat is somevhat comforting. At least it vas not in your head; brain damage is not an easy fix.
:leans over to get a better look at where he tapped: Chin up, please.
Snipingblus: *frown* It's lucky that your spine wasn't damaged then.
high_falootin: ./He obliges, though he shoots Hugh a mildly uncertain stare for a moment. There's not too much damage visible, aside from a faint scar where the bullet presumably hit. It could've been worse when he first respawned, but it's unsure whether or not it was.
sapoteur: *intriguing. Spy had never seen anyone come out of respawn with scarring*
pocketdok: :Hasn't either: Interesting.
Hope you don't mind there Orwell but he's gonna touch it. At least he's gentle: Did you go right to ze respawn after it?
high_falootin: ./He tilts his hand side to side, frowning down at Dok as he investigates. The touch probably would've earned some smack, but he's simply going to stand there and deal with it instead.
sapoteur: *whispers to Sniper* Does that happen? *obviously it did. The more apt question was if he'd ever seen it before*
snipingblus: While I have never seen anyone lose their voice before nothing about his situation is all that unusual. I have seen people respawn without some of their organs.
sapoteur: *she had actually meant the scarring, but she chose not to inquire further. She didn't want to worry Orwell.* That is reassuring then.
pocketdok: :still waiting for an answer: Did you go straight to respawn after zis happened? You can nod or shake your head. :is trying to keep to simple yes or no questions:
high_falootin: ./He nods, shooting the other two A Look at what he's overheard from their whispering. Your attempt at not worrying him has somewhat failed, Bleu.
snipingblus: *he sees the look they are getting and managed to look a bit sheepish for it* The system could have been a lot less kind than it has been, he's been rather lucky even if his experience has been atypical all round. The respawn sickness, eventual unresponsiveness, multiple scars, this... *frown*
pocketdok: Looks to Hugh: Vell, you have more experience viz zis sort of zing. Do you zink zat zis is somezing zat vill fix itself or does it require more 'invasive' measures?
snipingblus: I am hopeful that if it is an issue with the machine the Red Engineer might be able to fix it. *frown* I'm not sure if anything... invasive would be undone by the respawn system or not.
pocketdok: Zat vould depend on how zis system here vorks. I am still recovering from ze burn I sustained not too long ago. As far as I can see, it has not undone nor made it vorse or better. Zen again. I did not go to ze respawn after sustaining it...Hmm.
snipingblus: We certainly are changing a little day to day bit. Heavy's hair has grown out. The sun has had some effects on me. *and he pulls a face at that*
sapoteur: That is true. *Spy's got some amusing tan lines these days*
high_falootin: ./He shoots Dok a cautious look, not entirely sure what the German's getting at. If it's along the lines of what he thinks it is, Orwell is really not going to like this. He makes a gesture for the RED to continue the thought, briefly ignoring mentions of tans and whatever else. Even if he's got a slight goggles tan going on himself.
pocketdok: So... ze respawn has an even longer reset time zan ze vone at two-fort?
snipingblus: I really can't tell how it works here. I normally associate our respawn data being updated with periods of time in which we can die.
pocketdok: But ze respawn here is alvays on, ja?
sapoteur: Oui.
snipingblus: It certainly seems to be.
pocketdok: See, now zat is is vhat confuses me. Before, vhen ze respawn vas off, anyzing zat happened in zat period, up until about an hour or so before it vent back on for combat, vas... 'kept'?. If I had cut mein finger in zat time frame, und zen vent to respawn ze next day in combat, I vould come out viz zat cut.
snipingblus: And I'm not sure how much I should try using Orwell as an example when thinking of how it works here but the side of his neck *he taps a spot on his own neck for reference* There should be a small burn there. That happened between two respawns that were not actually that far apart and it left a scar. So it updated within about ten minutes I suppose off hours but I've had injuries around for longer that were fixed by the system when we weren't fighting *but now he looks a little less certain and he shudders*
pocketdok: So... zis respawn updates in shorter intervals? Vhile ve are fighting?
sapoteur: * : [] * *don't like the sound of that*
snipingblus: Honestly, the intervals seem pretty random to me. This is the first thing I have seen stick from a battle that had a respawn involved.
high_falootin: ./Orwell definitely looks more than a little disturbed right now. He fidgets in place, swallowing and looking back and forth between the three of them. Somebody better have some good news soon.
snipingblus: And out of battle it seems to have no set time period *rolls his shoulders, fidgeting* I have been injured for a significant period of time and it's not stuck... certainly none of the serious injuries did.
pocketdok: :has one arm across his middle, the elbow of the other leaned against it as his hand is placed thoughtfully over his mouth: Zis is all very confusing...
high_falootin: ./It's at this point that he shakes his head, scribbling something down on the paper.| 'What about my chip?' /That was worth some investigation, anyway.
snipingblus: I don't think it ever stops being confusing sir but by and large I consider the respawn systems at our bases to be very forgiving. *and he has to pause to read the note* I believe Miss Spy is still going to ask Red Engineer to take a look at it. It seems like your best bet.
pocketdok: :he leans over to read too: Ja. Zis seems to be more of a technical matter. Shame.
sapoteur: *debates before going ahead and saying it* He said your template might be corrupted. ...But he also said that the problem might be with you. * : / *
sapoteur: Do we know where the respawn machinery is kept?
pocketdok: :Wants to ask if the machines are somehow affected by attitude, but he already made his quip for the hour.:
snipingblus: It sounds like it is somewhere /under/ the area where they try to deploy the bomb.
high_falootin: 'If the problem is with me, then it would make sense for it to be either my chip or my template. That would be something for my counterpart, however.' /He really needs to stop tapping that pencil. He's thinking about something, though.
snipingblus: It certainly seems like we have made a start on getting the problem sorted at least. It looks a bit less grim than it did a couple of hours ago.
sapoteur: Oui, but Engineer is not a doctor. If it is you and not just your template, then it would not be something he could correct. It is a possibility you should understand might arise. *put shortly, don't get your hopes up*
high_falootin: 'There has to be a way to fix this. I will not be spending the rest of my life mute.' /He frowns down at the paper, fiddling with the lower corner idly.
pocketdok: :Is quiet and thoughtful on the outside, though on the inside he's excited with the possibility of using the space he worked so hard on:
snipingblus: *arm pat* We'll get you sorted out.
high_falootin: ./He grimaces at Sniper, somewhat unsure of his chances when the people he's going to be relying on come into play. It's not like he's got much choice, though.| 'If respawn itself is any indication as to what can be done, something like this should be relatively easy.' /After a pause, he adds a word.| 'Hopefully.'
sapoteur: *reads the note, then considers. Red might know some about the actual machine, if they could locate it, but if they could get more information, specifics about their own respawn intervals... the dawning of realization. Honhonhon* *But then, it would probably spare his dignity not to make it common knowledge* Engineer, may I speak with you privately? We should go get you your paper anyway.
high_falootin: ./He blinks at her for a moment, nodding hesitantly and tucking the notebook close to his chest. Orwell gestures for her to lead the way, doing his best not to look uncertain.
snipingblus: *before they run off out of earshot* You two done with any need for us then?
sapoteur: *thinks for a moment* Someone should stay with him, if he is outside. You will need to do maintenance on your machines at some point, oui?
high_falootin: ./A nod. He gives talking another shot, putting forth as muh effort as he can to communicate that a respawn glitch wasn't going to stop him from doing his job.
snipingblus: Well, what I said earlier still applies. I'm not going to make myself too difficult to find should you feel the need and I'd appreciate if you returned the book to me once you have something new to write on.
pocketdok: Und I am not too difficult to fine eizher, should I be needed.
sapoteur: You will find them when you need them, oui?
high_falootin: ./He scratches the side of his jaw, swallowing. Might as well just nod and go along with it.
sapoteur: Good, good. Shall we then?
high_falootin: ./Orwell gives a shrug, taking a half-step away from the other two before waiting for her to...do whatever it is she's planning on doing. He isn't really sure where she wants him to go, and he fixes her with an expectant look.
sapoteur: *heads in the direction of the barracks, she doesn't speak until she believes they are out of earshot* The Engineer, the other one, I do not know how much he truly knows about respawn. But I think his odds of fixing its disagreement with you would be far higher if we were to obtain more information for him.
snipingblus: *he's going to eye Dok now* So I suppose it is time for us to get back to our own things?
high_falootin: ./It takes him a second to get the notebook situated, and he almost drops the pencil--still, he manages.| 'And how should I do this? I am not exactly sure how much information there even is to acquire.'
pocketdok: :watched them walk off: I suppose, unless you vould like to exchange pleasantries.
sapoteur: *that he's already frustrated is amusing to Spy, but she refrains from expressing that* Well, as it just so happens, the night you fought with the Civilian, I went to speak with him. Dispensers or not, he really should not be injuring the personnel here.
snipingblus: *frown* That whole talk has left me with an urge to double check the number of scars I have.
pocketdok: I am sure zis is an isolated matter.
snipingblus: I know, I just can't quite stop thinking about it.
pocketdok: I know...I admit it is very concerning even if zis it a vone time issue
high_falootin: ./He looks a bit taken aback, giving her a somewhat leery look. Orwell sighs, shaking his head as he starts writing again.| 'Would he know more about this...?'
sapoteur: I think he would. Or rather, he would have access to the information we need. Of course, convincing him to procure it for us is another matter. You did not exactly make a very good impression on him. *she'd argue the quite reverse was true* *smirrrrrrk* But as it also happens, we may be able to obligate him to.
high_falootin: ./His brow furrows, and he straightens up a bit, giving the paper a thoughtful frown.| 'How so?'
sapoteur: Civilian rather thought to show me what was what, and so tasked me with improving your attitude. *snort* I told him I did not care if you thought I was a peasant as long as you were working to the best of your ability, and so he decided that it should be in my job description to. *whatchagondo, amirite?* But he did offer a substantial reward if I managed it. "Anything I want." Within reason, anyway. *bright smile* We would also get to make him eat a hat of our choosing,
high_falootin: ./That earns an eyebrow raise.| 'Perhaps one of those metal ones lying around.' /He half-shrugs, blinking a bit before something else comes to mind.| 'And you are not a peasant. It is simply certain members of this team that I cannot tolerate.' /Another huff.| 'I believe I am already getting along with people, however. Sniper is an indication of that.'
sapoteur: Oui, I was surprised and pleased to hear so, but after that display the other night, Civilian will need to be convinced of this. And he will require you get along splendidly with everyone, whether you like them or not. If we can convince him that you do, though, he will be obliged to provide whatever I ask of him. Information on respawn is as good as anything else.
high_falootin: 'I will attempt this.' /There's still just a slight twitch as he goes over the thought. Getting along with Heavy and Dan--mmmno.| 'How do you suppose we go about this?'
sapoteur: Just simply be nice to people. That is all. Try not to- *well, she guessed he couldn't very well grind out his p's and q's in this state* Try not to look like it is paining you to be polite. You are a man of class. Simply act like it.
high_falootin: 'If certain individuals would be removed from the situation, I would have no trouble doing just that.' /That's an awfully pointed look back at the barracks. He's doing his best to make it clear who he means without actually...writing it.
sapoteur: *le sigh* There are always going to be people here who we do not like. *coughSidcough* We must simply work around them. *and only kick them in the shins when no one was looking*
high_falootin: ./He frowns, picking once more at that same corner.| 'It is still a bit hard to allow them to antagonize me.' /Flat look.
sapoteur: *grin* Well, you do make it awfully easy. Even Medic managed to get your goat.
high_falootin: 'Making a crack about something like this is in poor taste.' /Aaand that's now a scowl.
sapoteur: Aww, come now. He would not joke about it if he did not think it was temporary.
sapoteur: He would have said the same thing if it was Scout.
high_falootin: 'Regardless, this is not a laughing matter. If this cannot be fixed, then what am I supposed to do?' /He clenches his jaw, breathing out through his nose.| 'I am restricted to paper and trying to speak while hoping people somehow understand what I mean--and so far, nobody has. I do not want this.'
sapoteur: Well, of course not. *thinks over what to say* I cannot tell you it will be all right. Medic seems to think he can fix it if it is a medical problem, and I believe him when he says that. If the other Engineer can figure out how respawn works, he may be able to set you right as well. *opens the door to the barracks and heads towards her bunk. Her train case is on the floor next to it and she digs past the cosmetics she never gets to use to pull out a stack of gray filigree patterned papers* It is not a lost cause by any means. In the meantime, we will all just have to be patient with each other. *she separates a small fraction of the stack for herself and, giving the pages a quick sniff first, hands Orwell the rest* My apologies. My perfume bottle broke on the way here.
high_falootin: ./He takes the paper gratefully, giving her a nod and tucking the stationary into the notebook with a soft sigh.| 'The contribution is appreciated. I am not certain how Medic can fix this, but f he believes he can, well. Who better, really.' /Orwell tilts his head a bit, wrinkling his nose at the sudden wave of perfume. At least it doesn't smell terrible.
sapoteur: *grins* Who indeed. You should have seen the Medic RED had when I arrived here.
high_falootin: ./Have a suspicious look, Bleu. Judging by the following eyebrow raise, he'd like to know what you mean by that.
sapoteur: I doubt very highly he was licensed, to say the least. Medic is quite... lucid comparitively.
high_falootin: ./He mouths an 'oh', nodding. That's...really all the explanation he needed, there.| 'Have there been many people like that, or?'
sapoteur: Some. To varying degrees. He was certainly the least "together" I have yet seen though.
high_falootin: 'I see. That sounds' /He stops writing, pursing his lips for a moment.| 'interesting. We have been lucky, then.'
sapoteur: Quite so. Which is not to say there are not certain people I would replace if I could. We are, after all, trying to win a battle here. But everyone is more or less "all there".
high_falootin: 'And who would you replace?' /He's asking more out of curiosity than anything. Some of the stationary almost slips out of the notebook, but he catches it easily, slipping it right back in.
sapoteur: *snort* The RED Soldier, of course. We do not need a useless layabout like him getting underfoot.
high_falootin: ./And he tilts his head again, looking slightly confused.| 'Reasons?' /This should be good. Orwell always enjoys getting dirt on people.
sapoteur: He used to be the RED Engineer. And he was useless at that too. Which obviously meant I had very little to do all day. *eyeroll* But here, his laziness could cost us the whole battle. I would rather have someone who actually knew how to explode things besides his own legs here if I could.
high_falootin: ./That would've been laughing at mention of Sid blowing himself up. As it stands, it's just...silent snickering.| 'I remember that. Amusing.' /He's right back to fixing his hair. Dammit, Orwell.| 'Has he really not improved at all?'
sapoteur: He got a little better at Engineering, but only after a lot of cajoling from Sniper. *tactfully neglecting the other motivation Sid had for improving* Even then, he would never have done as well as you or the other Engineer do. I have no hope at all for him as a Soldier.
high_falootin: ./A shrug.| 'Perhaps he will get better if he kills himself enough. Only time will tell.'
sapoteur: Perhaps. It would be nice if he was wasting some other unfortunate team's time with it though.
high_falootin: 'Who knows. I believe he may improve yet, particularly if our Soldier teaches him a thing or two.' /He rubs the back of his neck, looking somewhat sheepish.| 'Or if he trained.'
high_falootin: ./After a delay, he adds something else.| 'I am trying to be nice. Is it working?
sapoteur: Training is futile on him. He does not learn anything. *surprise then impress at that last bit* Very good! *laughs* You will better at it than I am at this rate. But, you know, if you find yourself getting frustrated, *she says this as if it is some large concession* you can rude to Soldier. If you need to. *smile*
high_falootin: 'I do not think that c' /He stops himself, scratching out the last bit and starting again.| '--the Civilian would appreciate that. But we shall see, hm?'
sapoteur: Oui oui, I suppose you are right. *see, Orwell, she sympathizes with your plight* Also, do try to get along with Scout. I asked him not to goad you so much, but I do not think you are making it easy for him.
high_falootin: 'I am not talking to him. I do believe that is making it easy.' /Another shrug. He isn't wound up or anything, just--doesn't really want to deal with Scout.| 'If he does not attempt any stupidity, I believe I can tolerate him. At arm's length, however.' /It's getting to be time to turn that page again, and he doesn't look too pleased at that.
sapoteur: Good. Now then. I will be needing to see the other Engineer. And you were wanting to work on your machines, oui?
high_falootin: 'I do need to do that. I am fairly certain they sustained some form of damage. Though I should likely work out some form of signal just in case of emergencies in the meantime.' /Just what, he isn't sure. Maybe he can just...shoot his gun or something.
sapoteur: Sniper will not mind going with you for the time being. I will go with you as well, if you find me first. *assuming it wasn't regularly scheduled Red time*
high_falootin: ./He tries writing something else, but he's pretty much done with the page. He turns it over begrudgingly.| 'Shouldn't be too hard to find somebody. And if not, I can attempt to make certain important events known regardless.'
sapoteur: Oui. And there should be someone on watch as well. *Spy would prefer that he didn't entertain the idea of working outside alone at all, but she doesn't want to nag or smother him. He only lost his voice, after all. He wasn't an invalid* *Still* If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I appreciate your dedication to the work.
high_falootin: 'I would rather not be a burden.' /He adjusts his collar, soon after tugging at the edge of his sleeve.| 'Beyond that, I was hired to do my job. This will not be stopping me.'
sapoteur: *indulgently* Of course not. *holds the door open for him* Just do things sensibly, please.
high_falootin: 'I have no reason not to.' /He looks a bit surprised that she'd think he wouldn't. After all, he's fairly certain he has a reputation for keeping his own skin safe.| 'I suppose I have other things to work on today as well.'
sapoteur: Very well. *she'll just have to trust that* Au revoir, Engineer.
high_falootin: ./He manages a somewhat stiff wave, closing the notebook carefully and walking out. Time to go fetch his tools first--and put Hugh's notebook somewhere safe for the time being. That was important.
When: 11th April
Where: Outside
What: Second opinions
snipingblus: So decisive. *snorts and gets off the back of the sofa* Well, I have no idea how long this will take so I may as well come along for the journey at the very least and I can help if need be. *that is his cue to step around the sofa and head for the door* Come on then.
high_falootin: ./Orwell follows along with little hesitation, doing his best not to look like he's entirely unenthused about this. He tucks the notepad under his arm, slipping the pencil back behind his ear as he catches up to Hugh. Here is where communication was going to be hard--as a result, the Engineer simply bit his tongue for all the good that would do, resolving that he could actually give it a shot when they found Bleu. It'd likely go better then as well; that would be something he'd be glad for.
snipingblus: *well, he seems pleased enough that Orwell is willing to follow along and he leads him out to explore the further reaches of the base. They hadn't uncounted the Spy when they were fighting earlier so it made sense that she would maybe be further afield.* Just keep an eye out for her. Wave if you see her, it would certainly get her attention.
high_falootin: ./The look he shoots Hugh is meant to convey something along the lines of 'she's a Spy, how do we even find her'. That being said, all it appears to be is a slightly incredulous look that lasts only a moment before he rolls his eyes and starts looking around. She's got to be around here somewhere--the problem is just the matter of figuring out where.
sapoteur: *Spy was up field, in fact. She hadn't headed back to base yet, as she preferred to collect the cash the robots left behind in order to have a bank for immediate upgrades when the next attack came. She was leaning against a large rock and flicking through the stack of bills quickly, counting up*
snipingblus: *when he spots her he smiles briefly and he waits until they are a bit closer before calling over* Good evening ma'am!
high_falootin: ./He decides to hang back for now, letting Hugh talk to her first in order to better work things out. It's not like he can make any snippy comments, but he'd still rather not deal with it just yet. The Sniper could explain the situation a hell of a lot better than he could right now, along with not using any more paper than was needed. A proper choice, then.
sapoteur: *quite surprised to see Sniper coming to find her out here. And the Engineer too? How curious.* Bonsoir, Sniper. Engineer. *smiles and puts the money away in her breast pocket* Is everything all right? *it didn't look like trouble, but it was unusual to sought out all the same*
snipingblus: Not quite. As it turns out respawn has been unkind to Engineer in an usual way and he is hopeful that you will be able to help him. *he gestures for Orwell to come closer* He does however seem to be a bit shy about it and you'll have to forgive him for not giving a proper greeting, he can't actually speak at the moment.
high_falootin: ./Orwell doesn't exactly look pleased at that last comment, though it isn't directed at Hugh. He steps forward after a second of fiddling with the notebook, preemptively opening it up and retrieving the pencil. He gives Bleu a short shrug, grimacing slightly.
sapoteur: * : [] * How unfortunate. *for Engineer anyway. Whatever help he might want from her, though, might turn out to be a worthwhile bargaining chip. Still, that respawn was debilitating him even further than usual was unsettling* *to Engineer* Are you feeling well otherwise? Have you let Medic know yet?
high_falootin: ./He gives a nod to the first question, pausing for a frustrating moment before shaking his head for the second. With simple answers like that, he wasn't going to bother writing anything down--it would just make things more difficult in the long run. The BLU decides not to wait further and tries mouthing something--he's asking her if she can read lips. Try not to look so hopeful there, Orwell.
snipingblus: *he steps a bit to the side, glancing between the two and deciding not to but in until it's actually needed. The more Orwell asks for on his own, he thinks, the better.*
sapoteur: *she watches intently, but she cannot make out what he's trying to say* I am sorry, Engineer. I do not understand.
high_falootin: ./Aaand he deflates. With a defeated sigh, he starts writing, biting his lip the entire time.| 'I was hoping to not have to use paper. It appears there is little I can do about that.' /He sure doesn't look happy about it, either. Glancing over at Hugh, he gives his teammate a faintly pleading look, knowing full well that the Sniper would at least be able to get words across in some sort of efficient manner.
snipingblus: *he's not really aware of what Orwell wrote but he guesses that a better explanation of the situation is wanted.* This appears to be a respawn issue more than a medical one. Red Engineer has some experience dealing with the machines when they are not working properly. Since you speak to him most days it was thought you could maybe help talk this all over. Also, I am running low on paper to give him and if you happen to have some it would be greatly appreciated.
sapoteur: I see. I have spoken to the other Engineer about this problem before. He suggested that perhaps there is something wrong with Engineer's template and it causes respawn to rebuild him incorrectly, but he did not know of any way to fix it. I will see if I cannot get him to think on it further though. But paper? Oui, I have some you may have. *yes, that would do well enough, she supposed* Though I must make a stipulation.
high_falootin: ./He pauses, eyeing her critically for a moment before gesturing for her to continue. Might as well give this a shot, even if he's fairly certain it's going to be something he isn't going to be fond of.
sapoteur: The only paper I have is my stationary. It was made specially for me. It is known to be mine. So I would ask that you not write anything on it that I would not have written myself. *puts on an apologetic look* Things could get rather awkward for me if someone found a piece of my stationary with anything less than ladylike on it.
high_falootin: ./He snorts, shaking his head with an amused expression. That was a lot easier than what he'd been expecting, really.| 'I've still got the use of my fingers for such things. It will be fine.'
snipingblus: *he leans over to read what Orwell had to say then swats his arm*
sapoteur: * : | * I do wish you would exercise some restraint, Engineer. It is rather unbecoming for someone of your standing.
high_falootin: ./He huffs at Hugh, pulling a face almost immediately after when Bleu speaks up. Shaking his head, he turns the page to an empty one.| 'It was a joke. I am not in the mood to start any fights, regardless.'
snipingblus: In all seriousness you /have/ been reasonably polite today all things considered. *to Bleu* And thank you for agreeing to help. I'm not sure that if I was the only one we would be entirely capable of tolerating just each other for the whole time. As it is it must be a record breaking length of time getting along.
pocketdok: :he comes outside for a breather; it was getting warmer and inside was getting stuffier. He must not have been he only one as he happened upon others as he stepped out: Afternoon.
sapoteur: Medic! *more pleasant surprises* We were just speaking of you. *some of them, anyway*
pocketdok: :quirks a brow: Of me? What did I do?
high_falootin: ./At sight of the Medic, Orwell can't help but cringe, rubbing his throat a little. He nods by means of greeting, looking once again to Hugh.
sapoteur: *amused snort* Nothing.
snipingblus: Nothing bad. *he catches Orwell looking at him* Engineer may have some need of your help is all. He can't speak, respawn is not fixing the problem.
pocketdok: :that caught his interest: Oh? Are ve all in favor of fixing zis or is zis a discussion on how it is a blessing? :dryly:
high_falootin: ./That's more than enough to get him to tense up, straightening and fixing the RED with a very clear glare. All he does is tap his pencil on the paper, exhibiting some form of restraint instead of scrawling insults.,
snipingblus: We need everyone to be able to communicate in battle sir.
sapoteur: *reproachful* Medic, really. *still, Bleu's not willing to completely hide her amusement*
pocketdok: I know, I know, I am kidding.
snipingblus: If you were willing to have a look it would be greatly appreciated. *glances at Orwell* Wouldn't it?
high_falootin: ./Judging by the look on his face, Orwell doesn't really believe that. Just lost a fair but of points there, Medic.| 'I fail to see how this is something to be joked about. Please do enlighten me as to how that was appropriate.' /At Sniper's comment, he wrinkles his nose, giving a begrudging nod.
pocketdok: :looks at the note: Vould you like me to make a list or vould you like me to assess your situation? :being serious now:
high_falootin: ./His frown twitches down into a scowl, and he shuts the notebook abruptly, tucking it under his arm. It's safe to assume that he isn't looking for a list of any sort right now.
pocketdok: I vill take zat as you vould like ze latter, zen.
snipingblus: The help would be greatly appreciated.
sapoteur: *just watching this. Come on, Orwell. Have some class. You can do it.*
pocketdok: : thoughtful chin stroke: So, vhen did zis start, exactly?
snipingblus: Today from what I have gathered? *needs some confirmation here*
high_falootin: ./He grits his teeth, forcing himself to open the notebook again and pretty much gouge out the first two words.| 'Thank you.' /If looks could kill, though. He glances over at Hugh, giving a nod.| 'Correct. A Sniperbot did not make as clean a headshot as was intended, and then the problem started.'
snipingblus: *leaning over to read the note so he knows what else to add* He's since had a few respawns and some time next to a dispenser.
pocketdok: :thinking as he reads and listens: Do you know vhere ze shot hit you, exactly?
high_falootin: ./He taps the front of his throat, expression turning faintly queasy. That hadn't been a fun death at all, and the outcome was just as bad, if not worse. In his opinion, anyway.
pocketdok: Vell, zat is somevhat comforting. At least it vas not in your head; brain damage is not an easy fix.
:leans over to get a better look at where he tapped: Chin up, please.
Snipingblus: *frown* It's lucky that your spine wasn't damaged then.
high_falootin: ./He obliges, though he shoots Hugh a mildly uncertain stare for a moment. There's not too much damage visible, aside from a faint scar where the bullet presumably hit. It could've been worse when he first respawned, but it's unsure whether or not it was.
sapoteur: *intriguing. Spy had never seen anyone come out of respawn with scarring*
pocketdok: :Hasn't either: Interesting.
Hope you don't mind there Orwell but he's gonna touch it. At least he's gentle: Did you go right to ze respawn after it?
high_falootin: ./He tilts his hand side to side, frowning down at Dok as he investigates. The touch probably would've earned some smack, but he's simply going to stand there and deal with it instead.
sapoteur: *whispers to Sniper* Does that happen? *obviously it did. The more apt question was if he'd ever seen it before*
snipingblus: While I have never seen anyone lose their voice before nothing about his situation is all that unusual. I have seen people respawn without some of their organs.
sapoteur: *she had actually meant the scarring, but she chose not to inquire further. She didn't want to worry Orwell.* That is reassuring then.
pocketdok: :still waiting for an answer: Did you go straight to respawn after zis happened? You can nod or shake your head. :is trying to keep to simple yes or no questions:
high_falootin: ./He nods, shooting the other two A Look at what he's overheard from their whispering. Your attempt at not worrying him has somewhat failed, Bleu.
snipingblus: *he sees the look they are getting and managed to look a bit sheepish for it* The system could have been a lot less kind than it has been, he's been rather lucky even if his experience has been atypical all round. The respawn sickness, eventual unresponsiveness, multiple scars, this... *frown*
pocketdok: Looks to Hugh: Vell, you have more experience viz zis sort of zing. Do you zink zat zis is somezing zat vill fix itself or does it require more 'invasive' measures?
snipingblus: I am hopeful that if it is an issue with the machine the Red Engineer might be able to fix it. *frown* I'm not sure if anything... invasive would be undone by the respawn system or not.
pocketdok: Zat vould depend on how zis system here vorks. I am still recovering from ze burn I sustained not too long ago. As far as I can see, it has not undone nor made it vorse or better. Zen again. I did not go to ze respawn after sustaining it...Hmm.
snipingblus: We certainly are changing a little day to day bit. Heavy's hair has grown out. The sun has had some effects on me. *and he pulls a face at that*
sapoteur: That is true. *Spy's got some amusing tan lines these days*
high_falootin: ./He shoots Dok a cautious look, not entirely sure what the German's getting at. If it's along the lines of what he thinks it is, Orwell is really not going to like this. He makes a gesture for the RED to continue the thought, briefly ignoring mentions of tans and whatever else. Even if he's got a slight goggles tan going on himself.
pocketdok: So... ze respawn has an even longer reset time zan ze vone at two-fort?
snipingblus: I really can't tell how it works here. I normally associate our respawn data being updated with periods of time in which we can die.
pocketdok: But ze respawn here is alvays on, ja?
sapoteur: Oui.
snipingblus: It certainly seems to be.
pocketdok: See, now zat is is vhat confuses me. Before, vhen ze respawn vas off, anyzing zat happened in zat period, up until about an hour or so before it vent back on for combat, vas... 'kept'?. If I had cut mein finger in zat time frame, und zen vent to respawn ze next day in combat, I vould come out viz zat cut.
snipingblus: And I'm not sure how much I should try using Orwell as an example when thinking of how it works here but the side of his neck *he taps a spot on his own neck for reference* There should be a small burn there. That happened between two respawns that were not actually that far apart and it left a scar. So it updated within about ten minutes I suppose off hours but I've had injuries around for longer that were fixed by the system when we weren't fighting *but now he looks a little less certain and he shudders*
pocketdok: So... zis respawn updates in shorter intervals? Vhile ve are fighting?
sapoteur: * : [] * *don't like the sound of that*
snipingblus: Honestly, the intervals seem pretty random to me. This is the first thing I have seen stick from a battle that had a respawn involved.
high_falootin: ./Orwell definitely looks more than a little disturbed right now. He fidgets in place, swallowing and looking back and forth between the three of them. Somebody better have some good news soon.
snipingblus: And out of battle it seems to have no set time period *rolls his shoulders, fidgeting* I have been injured for a significant period of time and it's not stuck... certainly none of the serious injuries did.
pocketdok: :has one arm across his middle, the elbow of the other leaned against it as his hand is placed thoughtfully over his mouth: Zis is all very confusing...
high_falootin: ./It's at this point that he shakes his head, scribbling something down on the paper.| 'What about my chip?' /That was worth some investigation, anyway.
snipingblus: I don't think it ever stops being confusing sir but by and large I consider the respawn systems at our bases to be very forgiving. *and he has to pause to read the note* I believe Miss Spy is still going to ask Red Engineer to take a look at it. It seems like your best bet.
pocketdok: :he leans over to read too: Ja. Zis seems to be more of a technical matter. Shame.
sapoteur: *debates before going ahead and saying it* He said your template might be corrupted. ...But he also said that the problem might be with you. * : / *
sapoteur: Do we know where the respawn machinery is kept?
pocketdok: :Wants to ask if the machines are somehow affected by attitude, but he already made his quip for the hour.:
snipingblus: It sounds like it is somewhere /under/ the area where they try to deploy the bomb.
high_falootin: 'If the problem is with me, then it would make sense for it to be either my chip or my template. That would be something for my counterpart, however.' /He really needs to stop tapping that pencil. He's thinking about something, though.
snipingblus: It certainly seems like we have made a start on getting the problem sorted at least. It looks a bit less grim than it did a couple of hours ago.
sapoteur: Oui, but Engineer is not a doctor. If it is you and not just your template, then it would not be something he could correct. It is a possibility you should understand might arise. *put shortly, don't get your hopes up*
high_falootin: 'There has to be a way to fix this. I will not be spending the rest of my life mute.' /He frowns down at the paper, fiddling with the lower corner idly.
pocketdok: :Is quiet and thoughtful on the outside, though on the inside he's excited with the possibility of using the space he worked so hard on:
snipingblus: *arm pat* We'll get you sorted out.
high_falootin: ./He grimaces at Sniper, somewhat unsure of his chances when the people he's going to be relying on come into play. It's not like he's got much choice, though.| 'If respawn itself is any indication as to what can be done, something like this should be relatively easy.' /After a pause, he adds a word.| 'Hopefully.'
sapoteur: *reads the note, then considers. Red might know some about the actual machine, if they could locate it, but if they could get more information, specifics about their own respawn intervals... the dawning of realization. Honhonhon* *But then, it would probably spare his dignity not to make it common knowledge* Engineer, may I speak with you privately? We should go get you your paper anyway.
high_falootin: ./He blinks at her for a moment, nodding hesitantly and tucking the notebook close to his chest. Orwell gestures for her to lead the way, doing his best not to look uncertain.
snipingblus: *before they run off out of earshot* You two done with any need for us then?
sapoteur: *thinks for a moment* Someone should stay with him, if he is outside. You will need to do maintenance on your machines at some point, oui?
high_falootin: ./A nod. He gives talking another shot, putting forth as muh effort as he can to communicate that a respawn glitch wasn't going to stop him from doing his job.
snipingblus: Well, what I said earlier still applies. I'm not going to make myself too difficult to find should you feel the need and I'd appreciate if you returned the book to me once you have something new to write on.
pocketdok: Und I am not too difficult to fine eizher, should I be needed.
sapoteur: You will find them when you need them, oui?
high_falootin: ./He scratches the side of his jaw, swallowing. Might as well just nod and go along with it.
sapoteur: Good, good. Shall we then?
high_falootin: ./Orwell gives a shrug, taking a half-step away from the other two before waiting for her to...do whatever it is she's planning on doing. He isn't really sure where she wants him to go, and he fixes her with an expectant look.
sapoteur: *heads in the direction of the barracks, she doesn't speak until she believes they are out of earshot* The Engineer, the other one, I do not know how much he truly knows about respawn. But I think his odds of fixing its disagreement with you would be far higher if we were to obtain more information for him.
snipingblus: *he's going to eye Dok now* So I suppose it is time for us to get back to our own things?
high_falootin: ./It takes him a second to get the notebook situated, and he almost drops the pencil--still, he manages.| 'And how should I do this? I am not exactly sure how much information there even is to acquire.'
pocketdok: :watched them walk off: I suppose, unless you vould like to exchange pleasantries.
sapoteur: *that he's already frustrated is amusing to Spy, but she refrains from expressing that* Well, as it just so happens, the night you fought with the Civilian, I went to speak with him. Dispensers or not, he really should not be injuring the personnel here.
snipingblus: *frown* That whole talk has left me with an urge to double check the number of scars I have.
pocketdok: I am sure zis is an isolated matter.
snipingblus: I know, I just can't quite stop thinking about it.
pocketdok: I know...I admit it is very concerning even if zis it a vone time issue
high_falootin: ./He looks a bit taken aback, giving her a somewhat leery look. Orwell sighs, shaking his head as he starts writing again.| 'Would he know more about this...?'
sapoteur: I think he would. Or rather, he would have access to the information we need. Of course, convincing him to procure it for us is another matter. You did not exactly make a very good impression on him. *she'd argue the quite reverse was true* *smirrrrrrk* But as it also happens, we may be able to obligate him to.
high_falootin: ./His brow furrows, and he straightens up a bit, giving the paper a thoughtful frown.| 'How so?'
sapoteur: Civilian rather thought to show me what was what, and so tasked me with improving your attitude. *snort* I told him I did not care if you thought I was a peasant as long as you were working to the best of your ability, and so he decided that it should be in my job description to. *whatchagondo, amirite?* But he did offer a substantial reward if I managed it. "Anything I want." Within reason, anyway. *bright smile* We would also get to make him eat a hat of our choosing,
high_falootin: ./That earns an eyebrow raise.| 'Perhaps one of those metal ones lying around.' /He half-shrugs, blinking a bit before something else comes to mind.| 'And you are not a peasant. It is simply certain members of this team that I cannot tolerate.' /Another huff.| 'I believe I am already getting along with people, however. Sniper is an indication of that.'
sapoteur: Oui, I was surprised and pleased to hear so, but after that display the other night, Civilian will need to be convinced of this. And he will require you get along splendidly with everyone, whether you like them or not. If we can convince him that you do, though, he will be obliged to provide whatever I ask of him. Information on respawn is as good as anything else.
high_falootin: 'I will attempt this.' /There's still just a slight twitch as he goes over the thought. Getting along with Heavy and Dan--mmmno.| 'How do you suppose we go about this?'
sapoteur: Just simply be nice to people. That is all. Try not to- *well, she guessed he couldn't very well grind out his p's and q's in this state* Try not to look like it is paining you to be polite. You are a man of class. Simply act like it.
high_falootin: 'If certain individuals would be removed from the situation, I would have no trouble doing just that.' /That's an awfully pointed look back at the barracks. He's doing his best to make it clear who he means without actually...writing it.
sapoteur: *le sigh* There are always going to be people here who we do not like. *coughSidcough* We must simply work around them. *and only kick them in the shins when no one was looking*
high_falootin: ./He frowns, picking once more at that same corner.| 'It is still a bit hard to allow them to antagonize me.' /Flat look.
sapoteur: *grin* Well, you do make it awfully easy. Even Medic managed to get your goat.
high_falootin: 'Making a crack about something like this is in poor taste.' /Aaand that's now a scowl.
sapoteur: Aww, come now. He would not joke about it if he did not think it was temporary.
sapoteur: He would have said the same thing if it was Scout.
high_falootin: 'Regardless, this is not a laughing matter. If this cannot be fixed, then what am I supposed to do?' /He clenches his jaw, breathing out through his nose.| 'I am restricted to paper and trying to speak while hoping people somehow understand what I mean--and so far, nobody has. I do not want this.'
sapoteur: Well, of course not. *thinks over what to say* I cannot tell you it will be all right. Medic seems to think he can fix it if it is a medical problem, and I believe him when he says that. If the other Engineer can figure out how respawn works, he may be able to set you right as well. *opens the door to the barracks and heads towards her bunk. Her train case is on the floor next to it and she digs past the cosmetics she never gets to use to pull out a stack of gray filigree patterned papers* It is not a lost cause by any means. In the meantime, we will all just have to be patient with each other. *she separates a small fraction of the stack for herself and, giving the pages a quick sniff first, hands Orwell the rest* My apologies. My perfume bottle broke on the way here.
high_falootin: ./He takes the paper gratefully, giving her a nod and tucking the stationary into the notebook with a soft sigh.| 'The contribution is appreciated. I am not certain how Medic can fix this, but f he believes he can, well. Who better, really.' /Orwell tilts his head a bit, wrinkling his nose at the sudden wave of perfume. At least it doesn't smell terrible.
sapoteur: *grins* Who indeed. You should have seen the Medic RED had when I arrived here.
high_falootin: ./Have a suspicious look, Bleu. Judging by the following eyebrow raise, he'd like to know what you mean by that.
sapoteur: I doubt very highly he was licensed, to say the least. Medic is quite... lucid comparitively.
high_falootin: ./He mouths an 'oh', nodding. That's...really all the explanation he needed, there.| 'Have there been many people like that, or?'
sapoteur: Some. To varying degrees. He was certainly the least "together" I have yet seen though.
high_falootin: 'I see. That sounds' /He stops writing, pursing his lips for a moment.| 'interesting. We have been lucky, then.'
sapoteur: Quite so. Which is not to say there are not certain people I would replace if I could. We are, after all, trying to win a battle here. But everyone is more or less "all there".
high_falootin: 'And who would you replace?' /He's asking more out of curiosity than anything. Some of the stationary almost slips out of the notebook, but he catches it easily, slipping it right back in.
sapoteur: *snort* The RED Soldier, of course. We do not need a useless layabout like him getting underfoot.
high_falootin: ./And he tilts his head again, looking slightly confused.| 'Reasons?' /This should be good. Orwell always enjoys getting dirt on people.
sapoteur: He used to be the RED Engineer. And he was useless at that too. Which obviously meant I had very little to do all day. *eyeroll* But here, his laziness could cost us the whole battle. I would rather have someone who actually knew how to explode things besides his own legs here if I could.
high_falootin: ./That would've been laughing at mention of Sid blowing himself up. As it stands, it's just...silent snickering.| 'I remember that. Amusing.' /He's right back to fixing his hair. Dammit, Orwell.| 'Has he really not improved at all?'
sapoteur: He got a little better at Engineering, but only after a lot of cajoling from Sniper. *tactfully neglecting the other motivation Sid had for improving* Even then, he would never have done as well as you or the other Engineer do. I have no hope at all for him as a Soldier.
high_falootin: ./A shrug.| 'Perhaps he will get better if he kills himself enough. Only time will tell.'
sapoteur: Perhaps. It would be nice if he was wasting some other unfortunate team's time with it though.
high_falootin: 'Who knows. I believe he may improve yet, particularly if our Soldier teaches him a thing or two.' /He rubs the back of his neck, looking somewhat sheepish.| 'Or if he trained.'
high_falootin: ./After a delay, he adds something else.| 'I am trying to be nice. Is it working?
sapoteur: Training is futile on him. He does not learn anything. *surprise then impress at that last bit* Very good! *laughs* You will better at it than I am at this rate. But, you know, if you find yourself getting frustrated, *she says this as if it is some large concession* you can rude to Soldier. If you need to. *smile*
high_falootin: 'I do not think that c' /He stops himself, scratching out the last bit and starting again.| '--the Civilian would appreciate that. But we shall see, hm?'
sapoteur: Oui oui, I suppose you are right. *see, Orwell, she sympathizes with your plight* Also, do try to get along with Scout. I asked him not to goad you so much, but I do not think you are making it easy for him.
high_falootin: 'I am not talking to him. I do believe that is making it easy.' /Another shrug. He isn't wound up or anything, just--doesn't really want to deal with Scout.| 'If he does not attempt any stupidity, I believe I can tolerate him. At arm's length, however.' /It's getting to be time to turn that page again, and he doesn't look too pleased at that.
sapoteur: Good. Now then. I will be needing to see the other Engineer. And you were wanting to work on your machines, oui?
high_falootin: 'I do need to do that. I am fairly certain they sustained some form of damage. Though I should likely work out some form of signal just in case of emergencies in the meantime.' /Just what, he isn't sure. Maybe he can just...shoot his gun or something.
sapoteur: Sniper will not mind going with you for the time being. I will go with you as well, if you find me first. *assuming it wasn't regularly scheduled Red time*
high_falootin: ./He tries writing something else, but he's pretty much done with the page. He turns it over begrudgingly.| 'Shouldn't be too hard to find somebody. And if not, I can attempt to make certain important events known regardless.'
sapoteur: Oui. And there should be someone on watch as well. *Spy would prefer that he didn't entertain the idea of working outside alone at all, but she doesn't want to nag or smother him. He only lost his voice, after all. He wasn't an invalid* *Still* If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask. I appreciate your dedication to the work.
high_falootin: 'I would rather not be a burden.' /He adjusts his collar, soon after tugging at the edge of his sleeve.| 'Beyond that, I was hired to do my job. This will not be stopping me.'
sapoteur: *indulgently* Of course not. *holds the door open for him* Just do things sensibly, please.
high_falootin: 'I have no reason not to.' /He looks a bit surprised that she'd think he wouldn't. After all, he's fairly certain he has a reputation for keeping his own skin safe.| 'I suppose I have other things to work on today as well.'
sapoteur: Very well. *she'll just have to trust that* Au revoir, Engineer.
high_falootin: ./He manages a somewhat stiff wave, closing the notebook carefully and walking out. Time to go fetch his tools first--and put Hugh's notebook somewhere safe for the time being. That was important.