12-04-2019, 03:14 PM
This quiet little town was not at all ready for a drill instructor.
The piercing shout of Kazuhira Miller was enough to shatter the delicate quiet, like a baseball bat to a window, suddenly booming outwards, summoning all who heard. Perhaps out of curiosity at who dared yell as if some God had slighted him, perhaps indignation at the vague insults the feline threw at the clan - either way, Abathur was caught up in the pull of his voice, crawling silently towards the source.
It made sense to him that it was Miller who was shouting. Despite how they were introduced to each other, the man clearly had an air of authority about him - that didn't mean he would easily forget how simply he was almost completely reduced to a squeaking mess just at the sight of Abathur. Perhaps he had the wrong impression overall, though, because this seemed like a meet and greet, not a sparring session, as would fit someone with military training in their blood. He moved to stand next to Feza, listening to her - well, frankly, listening to her babble, unspooling like a rabid mole holding a fire hose. "Retirement home, hypothetical nursing area, designed to care for elderly, specifically elderly beyond self care." He remarked, facing Miller, an unasked question desperately trying to escape his mouth. Instead, he said, "Greetings," shifting to cover as little space as possible, leaving some of his leg joints soaring far above him.
"Abathur Everman. Will wait until end to be paired." Frankly, he wanted the chance to fight Miller himself, not in the overly machismo wanting to puff out his chest, but out of a sense of curiosity. What does a man who thinks it appropriate to run a drill when you've only been in the place for three days fight like? Though he would accept just about any partner. His powers were minimal, but he could still hold his own; maybe not enough to win, necessarily, but enough to make a tactical retreat, which was far more important to him.
The piercing shout of Kazuhira Miller was enough to shatter the delicate quiet, like a baseball bat to a window, suddenly booming outwards, summoning all who heard. Perhaps out of curiosity at who dared yell as if some God had slighted him, perhaps indignation at the vague insults the feline threw at the clan - either way, Abathur was caught up in the pull of his voice, crawling silently towards the source.
It made sense to him that it was Miller who was shouting. Despite how they were introduced to each other, the man clearly had an air of authority about him - that didn't mean he would easily forget how simply he was almost completely reduced to a squeaking mess just at the sight of Abathur. Perhaps he had the wrong impression overall, though, because this seemed like a meet and greet, not a sparring session, as would fit someone with military training in their blood. He moved to stand next to Feza, listening to her - well, frankly, listening to her babble, unspooling like a rabid mole holding a fire hose. "Retirement home, hypothetical nursing area, designed to care for elderly, specifically elderly beyond self care." He remarked, facing Miller, an unasked question desperately trying to escape his mouth. Instead, he said, "Greetings," shifting to cover as little space as possible, leaving some of his leg joints soaring far above him.
"Abathur Everman. Will wait until end to be paired." Frankly, he wanted the chance to fight Miller himself, not in the overly machismo wanting to puff out his chest, but out of a sense of curiosity. What does a man who thinks it appropriate to run a drill when you've only been in the place for three days fight like? Though he would accept just about any partner. His powers were minimal, but he could still hold his own; maybe not enough to win, necessarily, but enough to make a tactical retreat, which was far more important to him.
tags - "speech"