circle7 | let's see you get yourself out of this one

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let's see you get yourself out of this one

There were certain things to be said about the advance of technology. Viana keyed a few specifications into the holographic touch screen and watched as the room past the glass window began to rearrange and shift itself. Platforms came out of and withdrew into walls. Stairs and surfaces grew out of the ground, obstacles grew in from the ceiling, and block by block, a randomly-generated city took shape in the training room.

The gears that powered the entire ever-changing structure rumbled underneath her feet as the massive pieces of the puzzle were jumbled about, but it was a familiar and almost welcoming feeling by now. She shifted her weight back and forth from the heel of her feet to the toes, stretching the tendons and the muscles. It would take a few minutes to assemble, but she had the time.

Still undergoing repairs and intelligence-gathering, the First Circle was largely in stasis. No new missions had been dealt out for days, and that was no good for restless people like Viana, who lived to move. She got antsy when she stayed in one place for so long. Her wanderlust always got the better of her. She had no idea how her brother could handle it - Evan spent a large portion of their rare days off curled up with some book or another, fingers drumming an inaudible tune in his head, always a few beats short, as he read.

Viana reached her arms high over her head, locking her fingers together and reaching towards the sky. That was the best thing about moving like this - sometimes, you could close your eyes and imagine you were flying, for that one split second in an arch where gravity had yet to get the better of you, that one instant before vertigo kicked in, that weightlessness, that weight. She jumped a little where she stood, impatient as always. "C'mon, c'mon, hurry up."

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Bentley's eyes followed her through the air, clearly both in shock and awe. His arms were still held up, as though carrying a princess, until gradually, they fell to his sides.

"N-no comprehende," the doc muttered. (That was about the extent of his bilingual-ness.) "So, it's... practically your own obstacle course." He paused a moment, taking in the idea. It was a brilliant practice, really. Exercise equipment was not always readily available, after all, and this form of activity depended completely on one's own strength, as well as training you to be nimble. Even if it was a little dangerous. A smile spread across Bentley's face as he began to understand - almost like that of a kid. "I think I get it."

She waggled a finger at him, and to do it, she leaned over, to the point where it almost looked like she was going to fall. "Comprendo," Viana said, before pulling herself to her feet with hands to either side of the window inset, as if trapped in a box. Maneuvering around the wall, she managed to pull herself onto a steel fire escape balcony. Here, she rested her elbows, looking down. An expression of confusion crossed her face when she saw Bentley, like she hadn't been expecting him to still be there.

"If you get it, you should get outta here." She made a vague gesture at her surroundings. "This kind of playground ain't for kids like you." That almost sounded like a challenge.

"Who's playing?" he laughed. "I'm just a spectator. Surely I'm not the obstacle here." The challenge wasn't lost on Bentley, but if she was suggesting he give it a try, well... He wasn't exactly in the condition for that. Viana had seen his, well, lack of stamina before. A harder push though, and he might just have to ignore that.

"If you stand around like one, then you will be, won't you, deadweight?" She replied, crouching so that her head was poking out from between two of the wider-spaced poles holding up the railing.

He shrugged a shoulder, glancing away. "I'm not as well-versed in acrobatics, I'm afraid."

Then, one of those bright smiles, and Bentley looked back up at the younger girl. "But I'm willing to learn." In actuality, he doubted Viana would have the patience to teach him anything, except how to get kicked in the face.

Viana stared impassively back at him. Maybe it was the distance...or did her face seem a little more pinched than usual? "Oh? Who's teaching you, old man?"

"You, of course," he said, still beaming right up at her.

She cupped a hand to her ear. "What's that? I can't hear you from all the way down there!"

Bentley gave her a flat look. One story up wasn't enough to not hear him, and he knew it.

"I said, you!"

Shaking her head at him, she cupped a hand over her mouth, as if they were a great distance apart. "No good, doc!" Viana said, with a sympathetic look. "You're gonna have to come up here!"

It was important, after all, that the man had no problem with heights. ...Yeah, that was it.

Fists on his hips, Bentley was the very image of a scoffy old man. Oddly enough, though, this wasn't a challenge he wanted to pass up. Surveying the building Viana was perched on, he looked for best route to get up there. But unlike most buildings, going inside and up the stairs or elevator was not an option - and so it was the fire escape route after all. A heavy sigh, but he made his way over. The doctor was amazed to find that the stairway actually was steel. Very impressive, he thought, hoisting one foot up, starting to climb up. Unlike Viana's swift, cat-like movements, Bentley walks in stride, taking his time, step by step. It doesn't take him long, but probably long enough to push Viana's patience.

Definitely long enough, considering that by the time the doctor got up there, she was nowhere to be found. There was a small scuff of dirt on the floor grating of the fire escape though that was evidence that she definitely had been there (at least Bentley hadn't climbed up the fire escape of some completely unrelated building). This pseudo-city might as well have been a jungle; a small girl like her could be anywhere.

"Oh," came a voice, only mildly surprised. Viana's head poked out from over the top of the building, electric purple hair and all, cradled in the palm of one gloved hand. "You actually hauled yourself up here."

"It's not that hard to climb steps, you know," he retorted with a sigh. Was he being underestimated, or just teased? Bentley crossed his arms as he stepped closer, looking up at Viana. (But outside of arm's reach. You never knew with her.) "So, are you going to teach me?"

"I'll show you," she said, standing up and brushing out the imaginary dirt from her knees and front. It was a pointless gesture, probably just one born out of habit - the training area was kept spotless, probably by the same self-ionizing dust-collection filters that were found all over the ship. "If you want to follow-" Viana rolled one shoulder in an easy shrug. "Then you can. It's not my fault if you fall and break your neck, though - it was your decision to try it. Free running isn't exactly something you can learn just by-"

Holding up her hand, she closed her four fingers and thumb together to imitate the opening and closing of a mouth. "Talking about it, anyway." With the same hand, she beckoned him up. There were no actual stairs inside the building (just the hollow shell of the structure had been built), but the top ledge of the roof was close enough that a grown man could easily jump up and reach it. Hauling oneself up...was another matter, but that mechanical arm of Bentley's probably did him a few favors.

Was this how she did things on a regular basis? All this jumping, and hoisting up, and... Well, differences aside, this might actually be a good chance to get to know his 'mafia-mates', so to speak. Quite honestly, he hadn't thought he'd see Viana or Evan again after they parted ways on the space station, unless it was for some kind of medical emergency. (Those were pretty common though, he found - they were a mafia, after all.)

Bracing himself with a slight bend in his knees, Bentley jumped up, fingers gripping the edge of the roof. The metal of his left arm creaked as his elbows bent outward, heaving himself up. It wasn't difficult, but Bentley still made a face as he lifted his upper half over the edge, throwing his leg up to get footing before he finally stood with a sigh of exertion.

"That wasn't so bad."

Viana was waiting for him, a hand on her hip. A hint of a smile crept its way onto her mouth as she watched him emerge (and struggle up from) the edge of the building. "You always start out at the highest point," she said, without much room for preamble. Unlike real cities, the pre-programmed training area was as quiet as space, without the hustle and bustle of the thousands of lives going on under these rooftops, stories below. There wasn't even the whistle of the wind - just a wide, open, echo of her voice. "When you can, of course. Always try to get higher. Gives you the most energy."

She glanced back at him, a look over her shoulder, and narrowed her eyes in thought. "That's...science, right? Hermano told me that once. Said it was something about Proportional Energy." 'Potential,' most likely, but she had never claimed to be the scientific type.

Give Bentley one guess, and he'd say Viana didn't score very well in sciences.

"Potential energy," he corrected, breaking the silence that was disguised as the quiet of an abandoned city. "Stored energy, waiting to be exerted. I guess it's comparable to getting higher then falling back down, huh?" Then, a pause. "Hermano?" He said it with no accent whatsoever, almost sounding like a whole other name.

Another smirk. "'Mikey,'" Viana supplied.

"Oh," Bentley said, brow dipping, voice incredulous. "Evan. How many names does he have?"

She looked confused for a moment, and then, "Oh." A laugh, quick and sharp, like its owner. "That isn't a name. It's like calling you 'Doctor', doc. It's a title."

She backed up slowly, as if counting the distance in the number of steps she took (though she measured things by feel, and not formulas), until she was standing next to Bentley. "How much do you weigh?"

"Oh. Right. I knew that," he said, not knowing that.

He watched carefully at every step Viana took, wondering what she was measuring in that bright violet head of hers. "One-sixty-something," he answered, blinking down at her feet before glancing back up.

She blinked up at him. "Fat."

Epitome of politeness, this one.

While it wasn't that heavy for a full-grown man, and especially not for one of Bentley's...particular build (metal arm included), she probably would've said it regardless of what number he gave.

Edited 2010-08-19 22:53 (UTC)

"Tch. Such manners you were raised with," he grumbled, straightening his dark blue vest indignantly. "Men have more musculature, you know."

"Oh," she said, already beginning to bounce on her feet, like she was gearing up for something. "Is that what you call that little tummy of yours?"

"T-tummy?" he repeated and lifted the vest he just straightened. There's no tummy to be seen - at least, not a rounded one like he expected to flop out of hiding that Viana apparently saw and not him. He frowned when nothing did. (Not that he wanted to be wrong.) "You're seeing things. Are you gonna show me this... free running stuff, or not?"

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