[ongoing log; closed] Potential

[baldr_was]

Who: Solid Snake baldr_was, Kazama Souji sagittariinae, Big Boss magna_nimity.
Where: Outer Heaven, Terra
When: Evening
Summary: In which FOXHOUND receives a new recruit.
Rating: PG-13
Other: N/A

Comments

[sagittariinae]

Outer Heaven. To be honest, the only reason that Kazama was even familiar with this place was because of the times he'd passed by it while gathering information. Discotheques, nightclubs, and the like, Kazama had the tendency to give a wide berth -- too many people and too much noise. The streets were populated enough as is, and he'd never seen a reason to willingly plunge into the midst of a drunk and screaming crowd.

That is, except now. Even as he made his way down the streets, he couldn't help but narrow his eyes the slightest at the bustle of the crowd, but his options were few these days. With the disappearance of its leader, Quark had rapidly begun to fall apart, and he knew that he needed to find a place to fight for. And if the difficulty he'd had locating the secure network channel was anything to judge by, then Foxhound was the answer to his searching.

The violin case slung over his shoulder -- his dissembled rifle safely nestled inside --jostled with each step as he made his way towards the basement door, glancing briefly at his watch. 19:00 on the dot. Perfect. A short pause, standing by the basement door, finger posed over the digital keybad -- making sure that he didn't feel anyone nearby -- before he punched in the password -- FOXDIE. A beep, and the whirrrr-click of the lock. The door gave minimal protest when he pushed it open, and he waited a moment, taking in a deep breath -- before stepping in.

[magna_nimity]

-

Standing behind Snake, eyes fixed on the screen as well, Big Boss remained motionless and silent when he watched a young man -- early twenties, if not late teens -- enter the first floor basement after inputting the correct password in the access panel; and he couldn't help but wonder what kind of people Snake had been inviting to undergo the 'entrance exam'. Big Boss knew that age didn't play a big part in determining a person's talent and combat capabilities, but FOXHOUND was no kindergarten and he had always preferred to keep children out of it. Even knowing that ultimately, it was impossible. Snake himself -- who was now in charge -- had just outgrown adolescense, despite being twenty-seven years old, and if Big Boss was completely honest to himself, he still thought of him as a kid, even if Snake looked and acted very mature for his age.

However, knowing someone since their childhood tends to bend your perception sometimes.

"Looks too young," Big Boss finally voiced his concern. He wouldn't have said anything if he didn't know what he was about to do in a few minutes. Just what Snake had requested the night before.

[baldr_was]

"Says he's with Quark," Snake replied, reaching over to grab the headset on the table beside him. "At least he has something to fall back on."

More than most recruits these days had.

He adjusted the headset and, leaning forward, began to type at his keyboard.

input voicesynth.exe

--

A voice, electronically distorted and obscured, began to speak from the intercom system.

"Welcome. Your resourcefulness is to be commended and congratulated for having even gotten this far. Nothing short of what can be expected from Quark."

A pause.

"But I digress. Why are you here?"

[sagittariinae]

Kazama had been waiting quietly, standing a short way away from the entrance with hands by his side -- studying the room as best as he could. No doubt that he would be tested, and the best he could do at the moment was prepare for whatever was coming. And so, when the electronic voice came crackling into the air, he looked up, instantly pinpointing the direction of the stereo -- and scanning the ceiling for the camera that was no doubt watching him. -- there, in the corner, at least one. Perhaps there were more.

Giving a camera a focused stare, he thought for a moment before answering, his voice controlled and determined. "Quark's leader's gone missing, and the organization is falling apart. It won't last much more." There wasn't much point in masking the truth -- no doubt word would spread soon anyway, that Quark was disintegrating. "I can't stay there any longer, but I wish to continue fighting."

What he was fighting for, he assumed he wouldn't have to explain.

[baldr_was]

The kid was pretty gutsy, he had to admit. Alert, attentive to detail; he knew Snake was watching him, and he was quick to show that he wasn't about to back down from such intimidation.

He stared back at the image on the monitor and continued to speak:

--

"Against oppression. For liberty. Correct?"

The quality of the audio made it difficult to tell if the speaker was being genuinely interested or simply sarcastic. Dubious of Kazama's intentions.

"What is your name?"

[sagittariinae]

Maintaining his focused gaze on the camera, he answered the first question only with a determined nod. (What else would he want to fight for?). But he paused at the second question. Maybe this was a test -- to see if he knew better than to give his name. -- or maybe he was overthinking things.

Either way, he gave the issue a second of consideration before deciding no, giving a fake name wouldn't help along this matter in any way. -- "Kazama."

[baldr_was]

"Kazama. FOXHOUND was founded on the principle of ending the tyranny that grips this city by taking down the source: the Alpha. To create a unified state that does not constrict freedom, that wouldn't treat its citizens like expendable goods to be sold and bought by the highest bidder. We inherit liberty by those who are willing to fight for it, for a cause that they believe in. For their right to live and die as human beings. For themselves.

"Because we operate outside of the system, we are not viewed in most. . .positive of light. The police believe us to be anarchists. The news reports call us terrorists. These are inane titles reserved for men and women who are so far absorbed into their ideals that they forget what they were even fighting for, consumed by violence. I prefer not to involve civilians in our dealings whenever possible; under no circumstance is murder ever justifiable, even when it cannot be helped.

"If you join our ranks, you too would fall victim to these labels. There is no prestige to be earned, no glory. Only freedom and the inner peace that it brings. You will fight, you suffer and you may even die. Do you realize this? Do you understand? Think carefully before giving me an answer."

[sagittariinae]

All throughout the long message, Kazama only listened quietly, one hand reaching up to steady the case strapped to his shoulder. In it lay his weapon, his resolve -- he had long since been prepared to dedicate himself to this war, ever since five years ago, when he'd lost whatever chance he had at leading a normal life. And all he had now was this purpose to fight for -- to ensure that no others fell victim to the city's negligent rule and willingness to cast aside its people without hesitation.

(No one should have to live knowing that they're worth can be discarded at the whim of the city. No one should have to live with a fear and hatred engraved deep in their minds. It can't be forgiven.) There was only one answer he could give, in the end, and it had long since been decided -- there was no way he could back away from this war.

Still, he let the words sink in for a moment before answering in clean-cut words -- speaking in a steady, determined voice and giving the camera and unflinching stare. "I understand what you are saying, and I am prepared to fight, prepared to suffer the consequences." Hands clenched to fists and his words sharpened the slightest. "I am willing to dedicate myself fully to this cause."

[baldr_was]

There was no second chance at refusal.

"Very well."

--

From his chair, Snake glanced over at Big Boss and nodded.

Go.

[magna_nimity]

Big Boss sighed audibly, smoke trailing from his lips as he reached over to the ashtray besides the monitor to put out his newly lit cigar. He didn't want to do this, since he knew what Snake had in mind, but given the circumstances it was probably the best was to find out if Kazuma spoke the truth.

"You're paying the hospital bill."

He left the small communications room and to the elevator that was located in the corridor, connecting all four floors of the building and only accessable via password -- literally everything was password protected and modified to an extent that made hacking into the system almost impossible. Not unless you found a glitch to exploit somewhere.

Hands folded behind his back, Big Boss stepped into the elevator, keeping his expression stern. He pushed the button labeled B1 and waited. With a humm it began to move, and only seconds later it came to a halt again, doors sliding open and exposing him, but he showed no visible sign of distress.

Eyeing Kazama, he waited.

[baldr_was]

"We are taught to know our enemy before doing battle with them," The voice began to speak again from the intercom. "But time is not always on our side. Sometimes we will be thrust headfirst into the fray with no intel, no guidence or even equipment to arm ourselves with. In the same way that today's friend might become tomorrow's foe, trusting your life to a weapon is foolish. You have only yourself to rely upon.

"Now. Give me a demonstration of your skill. Show your resolve by engaging in unarmed combat with the man standing over there."

[sagittariinae]

There was a pause, after that last message from the intercom, and another period of waiting -- not that he minded. The essence of a sniper, after all, lay partly in the watching and waiting, in searching for the stimulus before reacting. And so he remained at ready, resuming his study of the area, once the intercom had remained silent for five seconds -- and then the creak of the elevator doors alerted him.

Gaze fixed on the opening doors instantly, he watched as this new figure was revealed -- and instinctively tensed up the slightest. Even from this distance, he could tell the other was probably a considerable veteran -- the formidable physique suggested that this was not a person to be taken lightly, and the eyepatch was most likely a sign of experience, rather than disability. Making these observations in silence, he returned the concentrated stare -- even as the intercom spoke. An order that he answered only with a nod.

So this was the test, then. A passing thought: perhaps he should have mentioned that he was a sniper, and close-quarter-combat was not his forte. A correction: no, it wouldn't matter, the order was given, he'd just have to do what he could. The case containing his rifle was cast aside, and he dashed forward without hesitation, aiming a sweeping kick to the side.

[magna_nimity]

Follow orders blindly, no questions asked.

That was his first thought, and also his last before nonchalantly dodging Kazama's blow by swerving to the side. FOXHOUND wasn't about following orders blindly; what FOXHOUND represented was to fight for your own beliefs, consciously knowing why and what for at all times. The boy had been a solid candidate up until now, but he was failing this test. No matter; it was not up for him to decide.

"How brash," he said curtly, tense but a distant calmness in his voice, his constantly aware gaze never leaving Kazama.

Hope you enjoy the show.

He attempted a simple but precise and effective counter himself: getting a hold of Kazama's arms and forcing him into a chokehold.

[sagittariinae]

The ease with which his attack was dodged only confirmed his beliefs -- this man was not to be taken lightly. Not at all. And the curt statement that followed did not go amiss either -- Kazama just barely had time to take it into account, before the chokehold closed in on him.

Even though close-quarter combat wasn't his strength, he had gone through extensive training, both on his own and with Quark, and he knew the appropriate measures to take -- ducking forward, using the momentum of the movement to wrestle at least one arm free, then breaking free of the stranglehold with a twist and a distracting elbow-jab to the side.

An observation: the physical differences put him at a disadvantage. He'd have to try and win by speed, by flexibility. Actions before thoughts, at least in the moment of battle -- falling back a step, he took only a moment to gather his thoughts before attempting a sweeping kick aimed to knock the other off balance, to be followed by an elbow to the neck.

[magna_nimity]

He had to admit that much: at least he knew the basics and how to counter simple moves and attacks, but that was to be expected. Anyone who chose to be a combatant had to be well-versed in hand to hand combat -- no exceptions, though he suspected that Kazama was still too young and inexperienced to really stand a chance against his techniques and physical strength.

Big Boss was reminded again why he initially hadn't wanted to do this when he blocked Kazama's incominc kick -- with his forearm, just like that, no need to dodge. There was not enough force behind it. He relied too much on quick, consecutive attacks, which, in the long run, would only help to wear him out physically. Big Boss analzyed his attack pattern and found the opening in which to attack rather quickly -- he'd dealt with worse in the past.

"As I said: too brash," he lamented as he caught an incoming fist in his own, twisted it around, and grabbed for his shoulder with the currently unoccupied arm. Then, focusing all his strength on that single point abruptly, threw him down onto the ground, face-first.

[sagittariinae]

Too strong a defense, too few openings -- the options were running out rapidly, and Kazama barely had time to let his knees buckle, keeping the grip on his wrist from twisting around and breaking the bone -- before the grip closed in on his shoulder and threw him down.

He came dangerously close to breathing concrete at that moment, saving himself only through a last-second fall-break, catching the brunt of his weight on an arm and stopping himself from hitting his head on the ground -- but it still knocked the wind out of him, a dull pain coiling around his side. -- no, no time to pay it any attention. Twisting to his side, he lashed out with a sweeping kick he knew would be easily dodged, using the momentum to roll to his feet into a crouch a few paces away, letting out a harsh breath.

No weak spots that he could find. Most likely due to his lack of experience, he thought ruefully. But still, he rose to his feet once more, limbs tensed and gaze still determined, lunging forward, aiming a low strike to the side.