sociallychallenged: (0 8 2)
Hank Anderson ([personal profile] sociallychallenged) wrote in [community profile] dualisnet2020-02-08 12:16 am

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[VIDEO]

[Hank's looking a little more haggard than usual when he makes this post. He's tired and fucking wore out from a long stretch of just being perpetually pissed and sad. And goddammit, he wants his hope back, but it's been sliding.]

[He's still fuckin' trying, though.]

[He positions the phone so it's showing an old-timeyish looking Detective's office. We're talking he went for the Sam Spade aesthetic. He plants himself in a desk seat.]

So, I know I just fuckin' talked about getting a promotion. But I had some things go wrong with my last case. [Some big things. People kept going missing, for one.] Connor got assaulted by a decorated officer. And while he's getting what's due uh... I don't know. I figured it'd be better if I got him out of there while he was recovering emotionally. And this fuckin' job would require less walking.

[Those are his excuses? Real reason number one? Connor can't understand all those extra languages at the moment. Real reason number two? Being in the middle of the police station when his year runs up doesn't sound like the best plan. And for some people? Seems like it's not taking a year.]

[He sure as shit would like to stop losing fucking friends. Thanks.]

[Hank turns himself in his chair.] This is my new private detective's office. So now I get to take pictures for paranoid fuckin' people looking for reasons for divorce. I'm really goddamn excited about that. [He smears his hand down his face, then scratches his beard.]

But uh. It was time I said good-bye to the job. [He'd always said this was his last chance to be a cop, and here it is. But damn if the heaviness of that loss isn't weighing on him too.]
blitzcheer: (i need one hands behind head)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-12 10:24 am (UTC)(link)
[ Eesh. Poor Connor. ]

It's cool you can still have that though -- a job that's still you. I've been working at a bar and grill, but it'll never be blitzball.

[ And if he never hears about blitzball being here, he'll be happy about that. ]

But I've been playing basketball! Now and then, with some guys in the city. Just if I see them around. [ Cheekily: ] I guess it's not a bad game.

[ He's joking. The rules are weird for a guy who just wants to go and not to be thinking about bouncing around a ball, but it's been...nice. Bizarrely normal. Maybe too normal. ]
blitzcheer: (sorrrrrryyyy reORIGINAL)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-13 02:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He'll...let the idea of an arena job drop for now. Good distraction, basketball. ]

In an actual game? [ There's a laugh. ] No way; I'm too busy getting fouls when I play. I really wanna knock people whenever they get too close... I haven't hurt anyone! But it's bad. My mind keeps going to blitzball rules!

[ It's an embarrassing kind of bad by the sound of his voice. ]

It's fine though. A few of the guys don't mind helping me out if I see them, but I'm learning all the dribbling moves on my own and getting used to aiming for the basket. Our goals are bigger in blitzball. Closer to... you heard of soccer?
blitzcheer: (i go where you go)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-16 12:33 pm (UTC)(link)
A sphere pool. A pool's a pool no matter what you use it for, right?

[ It's all swimming in the end. ]

But we have the goalie on either side with the goal you have to hit the ball into. Actually, the goals for the sphere pool where I'm from... they have a kind of netting too. A fake one, but the one outside the city they use today is more of an upside down triangle, and see-through.

[ He doesn't just bring this up for any reason though, a more thoughtful note entering his voice. ]

I've been thinking lately, maybe... before everything that happened where I'm from, we had more sports too. They just got lost with everything else. Our own basketball, and a soccer. Why else would everyone else have so many sports, and we just have the one?

[ For all his love for blitzball, it's been making him feel envious. ]
blitzcheer: (water five four up)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-17 12:44 pm (UTC)(link)
Everything revolved around one guy and what he liked, and he really liked blitzball. [ It's funny in a sad, depressing way, and the shrug is close to audible in his voice. ]

But hey, he isn't around anymore, so who knows what'll happen? I think there's room for a few more sports in Spira. [ There's a beat. ] More importantly... have you ever scored a three pointer?

[ Heh. ]
blitzcheer: (guhhh just GUHH)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-19 04:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ '...s where I'm from, anyway. You got some good ones but ᴉʇ,s qǝʇʇǝɹ ʇo ǝuɾoʎ ɟɹoɯ ʇɥǝ onʇsᴉpǝ.' ]

Oh -- not again, [ Tidus mutters, hands to his head. Giving it a knock won't help, will it? ]

Uh, say that again? I didn't catch you. You got some good players?

[ Please speak sense, please speak sense... ]
blitzcheer: (time to nag nag nag)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-19 11:24 pm (UTC)(link)
Come on!

[ Tidus has the decency to move his device from his mouth when he lets that out, a silence following for a couple of seconds before his voice comes back, frustrated. ]

You're speaking gibberish to me. I-- can you say somethin' else?

[ There's a sort of desperate hope in asking. ]
blitzcheer: (GGUUHHH gugugughuhguh)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-20 12:12 am (UTC)(link)
[ That was a reaction, and he can understand volume and tone still, if nothing else. But that doesn't help for holding a conversation, and Tidus sighs anxiously as Hank finishes. ]

I'm serious, I don't got a clue what you're saying. [ He tries sounding honest despite how pathetic he feels. ] I'll... talk to you another time.

[ And as much as it annoys him to do, Tidus ends the call on that dejected note. Thinks to send a text message for an explanation, before remembering as he looks at the screen, oh right.

Can't read either now.

Cool. ]
blitzcheer: (ugggh old guy talk)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-20 01:06 am (UTC)(link)
[ When the image comes through, Tidus can guess his way into opening it (he's got enough experience for that), but he has to consider if to go now or later. Now wins out; the GPS maps never stay the same to trust.

It takes him twenty minutes to reach the office door, buzzing or knocking to be let in -- whatever his options are. Tidus wears his chagrin on his face, arms folded across his chest; his expression not shifting beyond an unimpressed slant of his mouth into his cheek. ]


Hi.

[ A gloomy greeting, one syllable -- but beneath the auto-translation, something other than Common or English. ]
notalive: (lo and behold)

i hope threadcrashing is OK? >>

[personal profile] notalive 2020-02-20 07:02 am (UTC)(link)
[It's not Hank that comes to the door, but Connor, LED on his temple gone and frowning, concerned.]

Tidus.

[His own name is probably all Tidus is going to understand, and, without his chip, Connor can't understand a word either. He wordlessly gestures Tidus to come in and sit down by one of the desks, which Connor immediately sits on.]

I don't know how much he has to talk before my system can pick any of it up… [This directed at Hank, before:] I need you to talk to me. About anything. Just talk.

[He accompanies this with slow gestures, trying to convey: talk to me. Doesn't matter what. Talk.]
blitzcheer: (trying not to use same keywords)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-20 07:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ Oh. That's an unexpected face.

Tidus's eyes lift to see Connor, caught unaware, expression lightening some for it. But his folded arms and hunched shoulders keep as he shuffles on into the room, the uncomfortable sense of not belonging following him from the streets into the office, down into the seat.

He looks between them, his feet tapping occasionally. Connor's words and gestures being met with his expression re-souring. ]


I understood you better in the pool.

[ Which he shares with a mirthless scoff. Great. This was worse than when he first met with the Al Bhed.

Tidus regards Hank though as he starts to pick up things, his blank stare dipping into puzzlement as he tries to figure out what Hank is trying to achieve. Why would he start picking stuff up and...

Oh.

His eyes lift once more. Arms unfolding, he brings a finger to point to each one. ]


Coffee, book, desk. [ ... ] Table?

[ A glance between the two. ]

Do you still know what I'm saying?

[ He means the both of them. ]
notalive: (and then restart)

[personal profile] notalive 2020-02-20 06:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[Connor has no idea what Tidus is saying, but he's hoping he can work on it a little. First thing's first, though:]

I understood you better in the pool.

[He parrots that back perfectly, not understanding what he's saying or even where the word boundaries are. He repeats the words too - coffee, book, desk, table - in Tidus's tongue, then, at that last sentence... He doesn't know what the sentence was, but that little emphasis on one bit, Tidus looking between them, that gives him one thing:]

I understood you better... Do you still know... You. You?

[And he points at Tidus. Maybe that'll give him some idea what they're trying to do here. Or what Connor's trying to do, at least.]
blitzcheer: (/)_(\)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-20 09:49 pm (UTC)(link)
[ As Connor repeats him, Tidus snaps full attention on him, bewildered. Creepy to hear his own words echoed and disjointed, but it's hearing the same language that unsettles him the most.

...Is it unsettling? Something close to it, maybe. He lets whatever communication happens between Hank and Connor before pointing back at Connor. ]


You. You're Connor. [ The finger curls away, his thumb pointing at himself. ] I'm Tidus. [ Then that curls, and he bobs his fist towards Hank. ]

He's Hank.

[ Tidus pauses. Lets the absolute embarrassment of this situation sink into him -- what is he doing -- before resting his hands on the ends of his knees. Takes in a deep breath and shakes out his shoulders. ]

Maggie's a dog. Hank's a detective. You're a, uhh...

...

...pretty swell guy?

[ He winces at himself, shoulders hunching as he lets out an exasperated breath, throwing up his hands. ] I dunno! This is stupid...

[ Or incredibly humiliating.

Or both. ]
notalive: (tonight i'm gonna bury that horse)

[personal profile] notalive 2020-02-20 10:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's definitely the strangest thing Connor's ever done, and he's not surprised Tidus is embarrassed about it. But they needed a test of the language-learning functions he's been trying to develop since losing his chip, and Tidus needs to actually be able to talk to someone.

So they might be there a little while.]


Here. This.

[This comes later, only when Connor has at least a basic grasp of something to explain what's happening. He opens his wallet and pulls out a tiny little electronic chip.]

This is in my head... Before. Now, no.

[And he points at Hank's head.]

But, Hank and you...

[He indicates both of them, Hank and Tidus, and holds up the chip.]

It's in your head now. Talking, Hank, yes - me, no.

[He still has to fill in a lot of gaps. He gestures a therefore sort of wave of the hand between sentences, at Hank, makes hand gestures roughly meaning talking and understanding. But what neither of them understands is...]

And you...no. But it's in your head. I dunno...

[He's wincing a little in embarrassment himself. He knows what he sounds like. For someone who feels sad when he can't be utterly perfect at anything, knowing he's terrible at something makes him squirm inside terribly. But it's all they've got.]
blitzcheer: (not that i care or anything huffff)

[personal profile] blitzcheer 2020-02-21 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
[ This stops being funny fast.

It never was, but the excuses or means of understanding this unravel as Tidus sits there, listening to Connor parrot his words, what he expects to be Hank repeating him too. It drives him crazy -- being in the room, but not at the same time.

He's gone from leaning on his knees to the side of the chair, to back on his knees again, this time with a slouch. 'Here, this,' getting him to pick up his head to see the small piece of metal Connor pulls out, his stare on it intensifying as he realises what it is. Keeps his head from falling immediately, following Connor.

... Hank, less so. Is it sickness? Dying? Death is what he reads in that stupid scribble, which may or may not be aided by the agitation in his limbs, the heightened heart rate gained through this ordeal. Did he say something? Is this because of the post he made? Is this because the Head knows what he's been doing?

He breathes deeply, quietly; turns to Connor when he speaks. Hearing even the bare minimum of a familiar language giving him some kind of connection to his surroundings, which of the two better understand him secondary. ]


I don't know, [ he says slowly, insistently. Anxiously. ] I went out training for the day. It's my day off, and I've been going into the woods, practising my movement. I take a guy's chocobo with me. It's fun.

[ He's rambling some, but it's comforting to talk; to simply hear himself and a coherent string of words. ]

That's where the first time happened. The podcast I was listening to -- [ or whatever the Dualis word for those would be ] -- started making no sense... everyone was suddenly speaking a bunch of languages I couldn't understand. But I thought it was normal, you know? Maybe I didn't pay attention; maybe I...missed something.

[ Maybe it was part of the show. He glances at each of them before looking away. Stupid, he knows now. ]

I didn't think about it 'til it kept going on, so I went to change it over -- 'cept that's when I realised I couldn't read anything on the screen either. Nothing was making sense!

[ His lips roll together, and Tidus sits up. Sighing, still with a slump. Head hanging. ]

I headed back into the city 'cause I thought something was going on. But after I did, everything was normal again; I could understand everyone. So I went on the network, I saw your video. [ He looks at Hank here. ] But then I couldn't understand anything again, so I...kinda fell asleep. [ Sheepish, and he shrinks against the back of the chair. ] Magic makes me tired.

[ And hungry. ]

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