[OTA]

[roeh]

Who: Everyone!
What: Sparring, training etc
When: All day March 2nd
Where: A fancy pants gym in the far shore
Summary: There's a war going on and it won't be won sitting around twiddling your thumbs. Time to work up a sweat and earn yourself a few bruises and bragging rights in the process.


Turns out the far shore isn't devoid of some of the more earthly facilities enjoyed in life. Not the least of which is a gym. And not just one of those, hot cramps, 24/7 affairs but a whole arena that looks like it might have been plucked out of some classical epic. A real gym for the stars. Or the gods as it were. Upon finding it, it leaves Shepard with just a few ideas and today is the day they come to fruition. A couple days back, guests and residents alike recieve a mass invitation with the time and the place to come spar, train and otherwise get together to work out this situation.

The Main Event;
The largest space is dominated by a number of sparring rings for everyone to take advantage of. And off on the sidelines is ever possible melee weapons one could imagine. It's the perfect time to work on your skills before another wave of ayakashi show up to catch you and your shinki off guard. Some of the rings are even dotted with practice dummies for those pairs that are still figuring out exactly how this god and shinki thing works together. Or perhaps you'd like to pick up some new abilities. You never know when you might be caught off guard with only a bottle opener and a ball of twine to defend yourself. Just grab a partner and have at it.


The Shooting Range;
You didn't think the far shore's most vocal gun advocate would leave this out did you? But it's not just guns that stock the racks at this range. Bows and arrows from all ages as well as a rather impressive collection of throwing knives lay amidst the firearms. You might even find the odd slingshot or two if you really look hard enough. But target practice is target practice which makes this the perfect time to engage in some friendly competition with your neighbor, regardless
of the weapon.


Combat Instruction;
Perhaps some of you come from a world where war is the furthest thing from your mind. Where the worst you have to worry about is whether or not you passed that last exam or when that girl down the street might finally notice you. But to some, your recruitment into the battle against the Ayakashi is just one more stage in the mundane fight that's followed you for most of your life. There's novices and experts alike and this is where both can come together to share their skills. We're all in this together brogamis.


The Water Cooler;
More like a whole corner of the gym that's stocked with not only water, but juice, energy drinks, power bars and all manner of refreshments. There's a pile of clean towels for those of you that really work up a sweat and a bin for you to kindly dispose of them. After a hard day of hitting the gym, it's always nice to relax, unwind, maybe shoot the shit with a few new friends. Or enemies. No one said you had to get along and that was the last bag of chips after all.

Comments

Main Event

[piphilologize]

[ When, why, and how would all be perfectly reasonable questions to ask about the present situation.

But answers, predictably, aren't going to be forthcoming from the resident megalomanical artist. At some point, a great heap of what is apparently garbage appears in of the sparring rings, and it's sheer luck that no one is using it when Minamimoto makes his grand entrance. Teleporting the finished artwork in takes some imagination, but he's overall satisfied with the height of his weirdly stacked random junk and scrap metal.

Hey, training with zeros is clearly garbage, but watching them from atop his heap and jeering seems like a reasonable use of his time. He's sprawled comfortably across the tail end of a car that was sticking nearly upright in the pile, looking as smug as a cat on some particularly satisfactory perch.

Loosely held in one of Sho's hands is a megaphone, perfect for inflicting color commentary and random nonsensical math-speak on the unwary. ]

[returnedfromtheline]

[Yukine can't help but gape for a moment at the sudden apparition. What. The. Hell.

Yep, he would love to ask at the very least why this guy has dumped a heap of garbage into the middle of the gym.

As he walks up to the base of the heap a second careful look shows him that the passive shinki isn't around. Well, probably not a bad thing he's not being literally dragged around this time.]

Hey.

[Yukine casually plants one foot on a jutting piece of something that might have been a guardrail as he looks up at the god whose name he still hasn't gotten.]

What's with this? You're taking up space, you know.

[piphilologize]

[ Oh, hey. It's the ballsy kid that played like he was tough.

This ought to be entertaining. ]

SOHCAHTOA. [ Thankfully, he goes on to gesture emphatically with the megaphone instead of using it properly. ] Some Overpowering Heap Can Appear Here To Ornament Artistically. That's what, short form.

[returnedfromtheline]

[...
He gets the feeling that 'SOHCAHTOA' is an acronym for something else entirely, but as he can't remember what at the moment, he lets that one go. (It's kinda impressive that this guy had the words already lined up though.)]

Ohh. So this is art? Sure as hell doesn't look like it. [But Yukine shrugs. Every idiot has their thing.] How about putting it in a gallery instead of a gym, then.

[piphilologize]

Where none of you could see it? Galleries are garbage.

[ Minamimoto's confident enough in his artistic prowess to ignore that sotto voce comment. He knows that most people aren't going to get it, but that's just a sign they're deficient. The only boundaries that his art doesn't transcend are those that it obliterates. ]

My art makes a statement! Check the zetta sexy curves to this- [ He gestures to highlight some part of the heap where ill-gotten guardrails are curved. For the first time, the general air of menace he carries might even lighten up to real excitement. ] They bring the whole piece together.

[ And they were sturdy as hell. ]

[returnedfromtheline]

[Yukine takes a second look at the part in question and ... yep, those sure look like guardrails that have been purposefully curved and twisted... ]

How the heck did you do that? [Did he really want to know? (Too late now- he's already voiced the question.) But you know- guardrails are strong on purpose. To bend them for an 'art project'... this guy must be crazy-strong? (Emphasis on the 'crazy'.)]

[piphilologize]

[ Wait. Wait a goddamn minute. Did he ask-

He did.

Minamimoto's response is immediate, and he actually drops his megaphone before shoving himself off to go skidding down the heap with practiced ease. ] Force equations! Force equals mass times acceleration. Kinematics! [ Yukine, you've done it now. He's whipped out a black marker, and he's scribbling an elaborate diagram (complete with accompanying equations) on some relatively flat surface. ]

Calculate the bending moment and the maximum deflection. Add these forces at these points, and crunch! I create pure beauty.

[ Beneath the megalomania and the ever present threat of spontaneous violence is a frustrated nerdy artist. ]

Re: Main Event

[sweetdeath]

[Tsuzuki is heading back from the lounge area with a handful of energy bars (some of them should taste good! After all, they're divine, and most of them are chocolate) when he realizes that there is a very large heap of metal sitting in the center of the largest room in the gym.

Well, metal and junk.

His mouth drops open.]

Uh.

... [And is that Susano'o on top of it? The same guy who was talking about crunching the whole world up the last time Tsuzuki met him?

A few more stammered syllables escape before Tsuzuki manages to hit on a non-provoking greeting.]

Want some help cleaning this up...?

[Or, at least, it sounded good to him.]

[piphilologize]

[ There's an odd moment where Minamimoto is legitimately baffled. He gets plenty of reactions to his masterworks, but offers to help clean up are novel. Threats, demands, complaints, and pure baffled stammering? All standard, but... eh, the gods around here are weird. Still, it's one of the more idiotic questions he's received. His brows draw together, and he regards Tsuzuki like he isn't sure what to make of this.

But then he barks out a laugh. ]

Who the factor would wanna do that? It's beautiful. [ Alas, he's used to idiots that can't see the true beauty when it's right there in front of them. ] 'Sup, candy man?

[sweetdeath]

Not much, how're you, Susano'o?

[...beautiful? This? Tsuzuki eyes it.]

Uh, you're sure?

[He prods one of the bent pipes sticking out the side. It's wedged in there pretty good. Look, they can't just leave a giant heap of scrap metal and junk sitting in the gym where people are trying to practice, can they?

On the other hand if he doesn't have to move it, it's no skin off his nose.]

[piphilologize]

[ Why not leave one of his sculptures out where anyone could admire it? It's entirely within Minamimoto's power to remove it, but he's being generous. ]

It's a zetta tasteful composition. I call it "Dropped the Moon." [ It's particularly inspired because the Composer skipped town on him, though those influences might not be readily visible to a layman. ] It tells a tale of a significant number that's gonna get crunched.

[ He brings one heel down hard against the chunk of the heap he's sitting on. The bang is resounding, but there's nary a wiggle even this high up.

Sho builds some weird shit, but he builds it well. ]

[sweetdeath]

Uh, okay. So the whole ... twisted up wreckage thing... that's about, uh, the moon hitting the planet, or something?

[He jumps at the hollow bang when Sho's foot hits the metal.

Look, this is as much as he can do in terms of art criticism. It looks like what's left after a bomb went off.

Weird that he'd pick the moon, though. Why not a meteor or a comet or something? They're way more dynamic.]

[dominatriarch]

[ She was perfectly content sitting in the bleachers or benches or on the side. After all, this was a shinki training event. Why not let the shinki train? If she joined in (no matter how much she was itching to punch something), that would make it a bit of an unfair playing field.

But then there's this guy.

She approaches, head tilted ever so slightly as she tries to make head or tail of the Heap. ]

Susano'o.

[ Her shawl shifts on her shoulders as she looks up at him and there's an evident furrow to her brow. That's definitely him up there. She can't fault him if he doesn't recognize her. After all, she isn't in her battle gear. She actually looks the furthest from a war god right now. ]

Mind explaining what all this is?

[piphilologize]

[ It's a beautiful heap. Twisted scrap is positioned with only the most discerning eye for aesthetics, and his calculations are utterly superb. The end result is a true work of art, and a rather sturdy one.

Minamimoto shifts on his perch as he watches her, pleased to be invited to explain. There's no such thing as negative attention in his view. ]

A marvel of perfectly calculated beauty! Check out the subtle, tasteful curves of its silhouette. It's a masterpiece. [ Then, more conversationally: ] It's also a zetta good place to watch the show.

[dominatriarch]

[ She's always heard the term 'art is subjective' and in this case, it certainly is. No matter what angle she looks at it, it's a pile of junk to her. A heap, as it were. That furrow on her brow doesn't leave and instead becomes a raised brow, head tilted slightly as if to see if a different angle will show her just what Sho was talking about. ]

I prefer a more grounded view myself... but to each his own.

[ And now on to more important matters... ]

How many ayakashi did you manage to take down, when we parted ways, by the way?

[piphilologize]

Somewhere around seventy with a twenty percent error.

[ He shrugs, almost sheepishly, when caught without a number he ought to be able to give. He'd intended to count, but shit got a little too real at one point. He'd pushed his limits, but at least he'd come out from it well informed of them.

There were certain non-negotiable weaknesses that, now that he thinks about it, he might get a chance to learn some more about if he keeps chatting with the war god. ]

How'd you do, Bisha? You looked ready to crunch some real numbers.

[dominatriarch]

[ Bisha? Oh dear. That nickname's going around. She usually tolerated it from Kofuku because she can open vents ffs but now from one of the newcomers? Well... it was bound to happen sooner or later.

But back to the matter at hand of which she can't help but have the slightest look of frustration on her face. ]

Lesser than I'd liked. 33. I'd spent more time dealing with making sure the newcomers survived.

[shiitan]

[Instead of scolding him for making a mess or even just asking him to clean it up, Ross was just going to pry a chunk of scrap metal free from the pile. That was one thing, but him following it up by chucking said piece of scrap metal at the resident artist was another. Ross was not above taking advantage of easy targets.

And that was putting it nicely.]

You're noisy.

[piphilologize]

[ It's not a mess, it's art. At least, it is to Minamimoto. It's not hard for Ross to approach, not when the former Reaper is distracted watching something else. It's not something he'd ever thought to be wary of. Generally, messing with his art projects while he's still on top of the heap is something unheard of. But, then, he's not dealing with Reapers that know their place anymore. He'll have to fix that.

Nearly getting winged by a piece of his own creation inspires a reaction, and it's not the most diplomatic. Noisy, was he? Noisy?

Oh, he'd show him noisy. ]

Attention binomials of Heaven! [ He's up on his feet on top of the heap, loud and disproportionately vengeful. If he was noisy, then he was going to have an audience. In a flicker of static between one sentence and the next, something goes very wrong with his elaborate tattoos as black ink seems to be quite suddenly covering significantly more skin.

He may not be taking the petty insult well, and there's no question of his intent. ] Check out this function of divine noise!

[ The megaphone goes off to the side, and he's milliseconds away from some good old random, shocking violence. That ought to solve the heap vandalism problem quite tidily. ]

[dominatriarch]

[ She'd thought about leaving Shosano'o alone with his... 'art'... and heading off to see if Kazuma needed a towel or a drink when this cacophony catches her attention. If he wants an audience, he certainly has one. She's about to speak up when she notices something definitely wrong with those tattoos. Whatever it is, it looked like blight and with blight meant ayakashi. Was this his shinki doing this or was this all him entirely?

Ebisu flashbacks coming too soon.

Nope. Not gonna let that happen. Too many people here right now for a full blown corruption explosion. ]

JINKI!

[ And with that outcry (sorry, whoever Kinuha was talking to. She's kinda needed right now.) there's a tipped whip heading straight for this sudden maddened god and attempting to wrap herself around him very much like a boa constrictor would. ]

[piphilologize]

[ It's impressive how fast she is with that whip. This is the second time she's caught him with it, though this time is more restrictive by far. Minamimoto's jerked up short as he's about to go after the shinki that touched his art, losing his footing and catching himself on one knee. His very soul is encoded as taboo noise, entirely corrupt, and it's outward reflection has stabilized as bold, dark lines cover most of his skin and curl up over his cheeks. ]

Bisha. [ He shows more than a glint of fang when he snarls at her, sounding positively feral for a moment there. He hadn't asked for audience participation, but he sure as hell got it. His attention is pulled off Ross by sheer necessity because he's crazy, not stupid. ]

[shiitan]

[He only had a moment or two to wonder about whether those spreading black tattoos were a symptom of some kind of magic he didn't know about before there was an intervention via whip. Well then. At least now he wouldn't have to figure out the hard way whether he would be able to neutralize it or whether he had enough mana to even try.

That aside, this was just gold. His sense of self-preservation was enough to keep him from saying something that would exacerbate the situation, but the look on his face wasn't quite as restrained. Really, he was probably lucky to have the attention taken off him.]

Re: Main Event

[okitactless]

[Yamato definitely isn't the best match for a bunch of newbies either, but hey, at least he's trying. ...Beating them to a pulp without understanding what the problem is counts as trying. ...Look, it's better than what Sho's doing, okay.

Yamato isn't terribly easy to irritate. But riled up and eager to fight, the guy sitting on his trash throne seems like a perfectly good opponent.]

You look very comfortable, but why don't you come down here and fight?

[piphilologize]

No can do, zero.

[ He's behaving for now, in part because Bishamon grabbed him up for the last time he went after someone and he's not interested in trying to take her down. The effort doesn't balance out the satisfaction of a fight.

Admitting as much, however, is beyond him. ]

No value in fighting this set.

[okitactless]

[Why does everyone around here speak so strangely... Yamato's brow furrows, but he doesn't address the strange nickname for now.]

Why do you say that? Are you embarrassed? It's okay if you aren't very good.

[Is he shit-talking or is he genuinely trying to be reassuring, it's a mystery.]