2023-03-09: Nine Days

• Log: Nine Days
• Cast: Angelo Sauper, Banagher Links
• Where: The Ra Mari II
• OOC - IC Date: 2023-03-09 (ICly takes place in the two weeks leading up to 2023-03-13: Transference)
• Summary: As per his deal with Full Frontal, Banagher submits himself to Angelo's brutal training regimen as his subordinate. Neither of them are happy about it. How long can either of them endure it, really?

---

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

When last we left our heroes,

Full Frontal, Commander of the Sleeves, had agreed to give Banagher Links a single lesson. However, there were some conditions attached. To wit:

        During the duration of your training, Angelo will be your superior officer, ignoring the current command structure of the Ra Mari. You will do everything he asks you to do, you will do so without hesitation, and if any of us hear you complaining about it, your training will be terminated immediately, and you will never become able to protect anyone, least of all the people you love.

        And Angelo, I have faith in you to control your distaste for this child, but I also expect you to hold absolutely nothing back. Think of him as an upstart new recruit to the Royal Guards. You know what to do.

So how's that been going?

                ~* Day One *~

"This is your new Mobile Suit."

Lieutenant Angelo Sauper of the Royal Guard looks up at the sight of a green-colored Geara Doga. It's a fine machine; sturdy and dependable for its time.

Unfortunately, that time was a good seven years ago. The Geara Doga has been outpaced by several generations over by now. Most importantly -- there's no Psycommu to speak of in it.

"While you're training with us, you are to be treated as a recruit of the Sleeves. We make do with what we have. This is what we have for you."

There are actually some perfectly serviceable Geara Zulus around, Angelo had this specifically brought onto the Ra Mari, but that's neither here nor there--

"You will be using this Geara Doga during our training and nothing else. The Unicorn will be considered off limits. Congratulations, recruit."

The rest of the day involves immediately throwing Banagher into a simulation fight in a suit Banagher has little experience with as, in Angelo's words, "there's no point in starting slow with how far behind you already are."

                ~* Days Two Through Four *~

Time's hard to gauge when you're on a ship in space.

Rest assured, though, Lieutenant Angelo is waking Banagher up bright and early, every day, with minimal amount of sleep for physical training.

Every morning, laps around the Ra Mari's training center.

"Again."
        Over.
                "Again."
                        And over.
                                "Again."
                                        And over.

At varying points it looks like Angelo may or may not be paying more attention to the holographic screen of his phone than Banagher's laps as he repeats the mantra of "again." But he always proves he's paying attention by stopping -just- before the point of exhaustion.

Any attempts to point this out get a firm "two more laps" in response. The reasoning?

"You are demonstrating an insubordinate face. I don't care for it."

                ~* Day Five *~

Mobile Suit training resumes again. This time is maneuverability tests with the Geara Doga, having Banagher pilot a course of space debris near where the Ra Mari is stationed. Some of it is dummy debris deployed by Angelo; some of it is real.

He never bothers specifying which is which, because it's part of the training.

                ---

Days involving mobile suit training involve performing simple, routine maintenance on one's machine. In Angelo's detached explanation, manpower in the Sleeves is limited; members of the group must be expected to be able to stand in for several roles if they need to, as any individual cell of the Sleeves can never be certain when they'll be down their lone mechanic.

Angelo thought it best to stress that fact by having Banagher not only check on his machine, but Angelo's as well.

It's here, at the portion of the Ra Mari hangars specified for Sleeves use, that Angelo Sauper finds himself, watching over Banagher's work with a half-lidded gaze in the lull leading to the end of another day of training. He, perhaps surprisingly, gives Banagher free run of his mobile suit for basic maintenance: the Krake Zulu, like many Sleeves machines, is made with parts borrowed from already existing suits, a hodge podge of concepts and technologies built around a base of a Geara Zulu that demonstrates more keenly than most the limited amount of resources the organization has. Geara Zulu parts, compatible scraps, the cannibalized remains of older models, all can be found inside of it.

It's a Frankenstein's monster of old ideas and 'the best of what they've got.'

Angelo, for the most part, watches and keeps to himself. As freely as he lets ('lets') Banagher work on his machine, Angelo only has one additional instruction for this portion of the young man's training:

"If you try to approach the Sinanju, I will shoot you."

Simple enough.

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

As much as Full Frontal's instructions grated against Banagher's spirit, he gave his word. He's going to do his damndest to keep it, no matter what Angelo throws at him. Even in private, or back at the PPL, the young pilot hasn't spoken a word of complaint, and always referred to Angelo with his proper title.

But can his spirit endure under the command of such a hated enemy?

--Day One--

Banagher also looks up at the Geara Doga, standing next to Angelo. There's distance between the two young men, a bit more than is really necessary, but not so much that the Lieutenant might take offense.

In contrast to Angelo's sharp, polished appearance, Banagher is as casual as ever. Brown hair is wild. Clearly, no attempt has been made to tame it. In an attempt to give himself strength, Banagher has put on his Anaheim Electric jacket for the first time in months.

"A birthday gift." Banagher murmurs, mostly to himself, then a bit louder: "Thank you, Lieutenant."

...if he glances at the Geara Zulus in the hangar, it's certainly done subtly. If only Angelo's distaste of Banagher was as polite. Perhaps it's for the best, as the Unicorn is still at the PPL. Banagher may be an idiot for agreeing to this training, but he's not stupid enough to tempt Angelo that much.

"Am I allowed to work on it?" He asks, critically looking over the old machine. Maybe Takuya could offer some advice, he loves old mobile suits like this. And he is on board the Ra Mari II, even now.

Upon finding himself in the simulator, Banagher relies fully on Newtype Intuition to figure out the controls and make his way through the fight. Unfortunately, Intuition is less responsive when Banagher knows he isn't in any danger.

While he's fully capable of piloting a manual machine, Banagher hadn't realized how much he's come to rely on his spiritual and mental bond with the Unicorn. The poor Geara Dogu spents a few vital seconds dead in the air as Banagher instinctively tries to move it with his mind -- and the mistake is repeated far more than once.

The first simulated battle is almost certainly a loss.

--Day Two, Three, Four--

"Nhh... what..?" Banagher raises his head blearily, looking utterly baffled to be greeted with Angelo's face in his quarters. Awareness and recognition arrive all too soon. "Oh."

Angelo may notice, if he cares to, the dark circles beneath Banagher's eyes. They only deepen over the course of the week. On day three, Banagher is already awake when Angelo arrives, waiting for the Lieutenant with a grim expression.

"I'm ready." Is all he says.

Day three is the worst. Banagher is already sore from the first day, muscles unused in engineering school and Haro-building protesting his every movement. As he jogs around the Ra Mari II's track, watching Angelo play on his phone, frustration builds.

"Y--you're--!" Banagher pants, almost glaring at Angelo. "You're not e--even paying attention..." He bends in half, trying not to throw up. "What's -- the point."

Two more laps. For a moment, the young pilot debates another brawl with the Lieutenant. Gritting his teeth, he jogs off again, wishing the NT-D could assist him.

--Day Five--

Wearily, Banagher climbs into the Geara Doga again. His movements are clumsy and sluggish. Has he slept at all?

Before they set out, Bangher looks at Angelo searchingly. "Lieutenant, have you been having any weird dreams lately? Since -- the Banshee fight?"

Clad in his white-and-red Vist piloting outfit, the young man climbs in his new mobile suit and launches. Thankfully, being a Newtype works far better in real situations -- he's able to maneuver mostly successfully. Despite careening into one (thankfully) dummy piece of debris, Banagher is smiling at the end of the exercise.

Despite himself, he looks to Angelo for praise.

---

Somehow, Banagher seems to gain a second wind from the very thought of mobile suit maintenance. This was his chosen path before -- everything, after all. Engineering work is familiar and safe.

He doesn't even seem to mind working on Angelo's machine. Banagher is full of questions. What's it like using the wire-guided Quasi-Psycommu system? Has Angelo ever tried an actual Psycommu system? And why purple, of all colors?

It seems the young man gets chatty while he's working. This, surely, will endear him all the more to Angelo.

"I'm not going to mess with the Sinanju." Banagher grumbles. Even if it would be cool to see how that beast of a machine works, under the hood. "Why do you care more about the Sinanju than your own machine, anyway? If you trust me enough to work on yours..."

Golden eyes look curiously to the Lieutenant, holding a wrench in one hand. Banagher floats, almost fully upside-down, at home in the low gravity.

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

Is Banagher allowed to work on it? Beyond maintenance, of course.

"Once you demonstrate you can actually be trusted to," was Angelo Sauper's sole, dismissive reply.

Does he know that it was literally what Banagher was trained for in school? Probably not.

Would it have changed his answer at all if he knew?

Probably not.

        ~* Day Five *~

        Lieutenant, have you been having any weird dreams lately? Since -- the Banshee--

"Focus on the -exercise-, recruit."

The lieutenant's answer comes immediate and bitingly even before Banagher finishes asking the question. It's the only one he entertains before pointing directly at the Geara Doga and leveling an unblinking -stare- on Banagher that just says: well?

In the aftermath, Banagher looks proud; he ought to, really, maneuvering so well in a such an outdated machine with minimal time spent with it.

When he leaves his Krake and sees Banagher looking at him for approval, Angelo can only stare unreadably for several long seconds before he takes hold of his descent cable and lowers back towards the hangar grounds.

"... Stop smiling. You'd have been dead the second you ran into that debris."

And so it goes.

        ---

Banagher is in his element. In his element, Banagher gets chatty.

Being chatted at by an eager Banagher takes Angelo out of his element. Out of his element, Angelo--

"I don't use Psycommu. You would use it to rip me apart with my own machine."

-- gets disgruntled.

Despite the spasm of annoyance in his brow, his answers actually come out fairly matter-of-fact as he floats near the Krake, arms crossed over his chest; as if just talking business, at least, is easy, even if that business happens to involve the idea of them murdering each other. The Quasi-Psycommu requires a certain degree of hand-eye coordination and battlefield instincts despite computer-guidance that requires training; the fact that it cannot rely on brainwaves, ironically, just makes it that much more complex.

Why his suits are purple are not a recruit's business, of course.

But for the rest...

        If you trust me enough to work on yours...

"You think this is trust?" is his question, cold and dispassionate as he stares up at the Krake. "This is training. My mobile suit doesn't matter."

His gaze turns towards the Sinanju in the distance.

"... The Colonel's is our future."

A frown tugs at his lips. And Angelo suddenly pivots, as if unwilling to dwell:

"You look like a walking corpse," is his polite observation as to Banagher's state. "... Is this about your 'weird dreams'?"

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

"Alright." Banagher responds, looking back at the machine. "I can't imagine you'll ever trust me, Lieutenant. But if you do, I'd like to bring my friend Takuya over. He doesn't have to touch anything, but he'd love seeing a relic like this."

Takuya will, of course, be far chattier than Banagher, if he's allowed to observe. It'll take more than Angelo's aura of disgruntled disapproval to dampen his spirits.

--Day Five--

Banagher lowers his head at Angelo's reply. Obediently, the young pilot climbs into the Geara Doga. He promised not to hesitate in listening to Angelo. No matter how tired he is, that hasn't changed.

"Recruit", "Key" -- Banagher is discovering he does not like being referred to things besides his name. It comes as a validation of his choice never to join the military. At least his Shuffle Alliance code name was something he agreed to, and rarely even used. It's no use trying to obscure who pilots the Unicorn Gundam.

A sigh. It was stupid to expect anything but derision from Angelo. Banagher follows him down to the hangar floor, every blink stinging.

---

"Only if you were trying to fight me. I'm not your only enemy." Banagher responds, quietly. "I wouldn't kill you, Lieutenant. Even if we did fight."

Banagher seems fascinated with the Krake Zulu's wires. He pulls some out, running his fingers along the material, looking at it curiously.

"You know," He starts, floating near the back of the mobile suit. "I bet you could put some seriously powerful boosters back here. It's an idea I had for the Kshatriya, and the Krake Zulu is pretty similar..."

Why is the color of a mobile suit a secret? Banagher gives Angelo a strange look, but accepts this answer.

"Lieutenant, I don't mean any disrespect, but if this is meant as training..." Gesturing to the name on the arm of his jacket, Banagher looks serious. "I was attending Anaheim Electric before my father bound me to the Unicorn. Specifically, studying mobile suit engineering. I already know how to repair mobile suits."

It's not meant as a brag -- just a fact.

Looking toward the Sinanju, Banagher rights himself, floating carefully nowhere near Full Frontal's machine. The future..? Just because it's connected to the Ghost of Char? Or is there more to it than that, just as the Unicorn has a secret?

Not like Angelo would tell him.

"...yeah." Banagher answers the Lieutenant, letting the insult go. Quickly, he's discovering this is simply Angelo's way -- toward everyone but Full Frontal. "Ever since the Banshee attacked the PPL, I've had dreams of this little girl with no face. She says she'll find me no matter where I am, and then all those hands." Banagher pauses. "You remember."

"A couple others who have fought the Banshee have been having those dreams, too. So I was curious if you and... the Colonel... had them too." Banagher manages to get past Full Frontal's rank without making a face. Barely. "I can't get used to them. Last night I didn't sleep at all."

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

        Only if you were trying to fight me.

"The Banshee. That other, -gold- one, as if there weren't enough of you -already-. Your machine isn't the only monstrosity in the world anymore, recruit. How wonderful."

While Angelo isn't necessarily wrong, it also doesn't address Banagher's point. Why wouldn't he use any Psycommu suits for anyone else?

There's answers, as easy as there just isn't any Angelo would have access to but that also doesn't hold water when one talks about right hand man of the Sleeves' very own Second Coming of Char.

So why?

There's no answer forthcoming; Angelo just grits his teeth in irritation as Banagher insists he wouldn't kill him, every fiber of his being telling him he needs to hurt Banagher just for suggesting that. Full Frontal gave him a mission, though, and in a way similar to Banagher (do not ever mention that to him (NOT EVER.)) he is committed to his word.

It's a subject that Angelo just as soon abandons, finding reason to in Banagher's observation about his mechanical skills. Angelo's brows raise, slowly. "Oh?" he wonders, thoughtfully. Violet eyes tilt toward the logo Banagher helpfully gestures too.

"So this is all too easy for you," observes Angelo with a very, suspiciously mild tone of voice. "Noted, recruit. I'll adjust your schedule accordingly."

        \o/ Congratulations, Banagher Links! You've Unlocked Hard Mode! \o/

Despite Banagher's explanation of his state -- the terrible nightmares haunting him, quite literally hunting him, giving him no rest -- Angelo doesn't take any real pleasure in it. In fact, his gaze is a distant thing as the young man explains those visions, jaw setting mildly.

        So I was curious if you and... the Colonel... had them too.

"No." Again, the rejection is immediate, and flat. "... There's no point in dwelling on dreams." He shoots Banagher a cold look.

"But if -your- dreams are causing you -so many- problems, then take these lessons to heart, and use them to eliminate the thing causing it. You'd be doing us all a favor."

Angelo, still floating, reaches the Krake; the soles of his boots press into its polished surface and push off as he angles for the upper levels.

"We're done here," he says, brusquely, before any follow up to his observation can be offered. "Tomorrow will begin a new training regimen." His palm presses against the railing of the hangar's upper level to boost his momentum towards the exit. He pauses, once there.

"You look like an emaciated slob. Tomorrow before you do anything you are going to fix your damn hair. The lack of care is a show of disrespect to the Sleeves." i-is that actually a thing

"... And you are allowed to modify your Geara Doga."

With that, he makes his way towards the exit, door hissing shut behind him as he goes.

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Banagher's hand twitches. The Unicorn isn't a monstrosity. Biting back a retort, the young man looks away, letting it pass. "It's worth being careful around the Banshee. I can understand that."

After all, the black Unicorn nearly destroyed them both. Only Full Frontal was able to drive the Beast away.

Aggression radiates from Angelo, and Banagher looks back to him, alarmed. What did he say? Does Angelo want Banagher to... kill him, for some reason? That can't be it. That's too weird, even for the Lieutenant.

...every time Angelo's voice goes soft like that, something bad is about to happen. Banagher goes a little pale. "N--not all of it! Just the mechanical stuff. I don't want to -- waste your time!"

Too little, too late. Banagher swears under his breath. If this saddles him with more running, he's going to die.

Angelo rejects Banagher, and the young man looks away again, hunching his shoulders slightly. What did he expect, really? However...

Banagher tilts his head slightly. Angelo cares about spacenoids.

"Do you know the story of Elpeo Puru?" He blurts out. "That's who the Vists have inside the Banshee. Somehow, they pulled a child back from death and forced her into piloting that thing! Judau Ashta confirmed it." Banagher pauses, hand clenching on his wrench, knuckles white. "If there was ever a spacenoid who suffered, it was her. That's why I'm -- doing all this. It's not just about stopping the Banshee. It's about saving Elpeo."

Will this appeal reach Angelo's heart? Bangher doesn't really believe it will, but Angelo deserves to know who he's fighting, just like anyone.

Angelo signals the end of this training, and Banagher sags in relief -- only to straighten back up. Not finished for good, just this regimen. Again, Banagher curses himself for bringing down more difficult training on his own head.

He looks like a slob? Bangher looks genuinely surprised. Glancing up, as if he could see his own hair, he quickly responds. "Uh -- yes, Lieutenant, I'll do my best. And thank you."

The second Angelo disappears, Banagher pulls his phone out, messaging Takuya. Just as quickly, the freckle-faced boy appears in the hangar.

Excitement buzzes between the two school friends. Working well into the night, Banagher eventually falls asleep over the Geara Doga's arm. Takuya simply drapes a jacket over his friend and continues on.

When Banagher jerks awake from nightmares, sweat beading on his forehead, Takuya sends him to bed. By the morning, the Geara Doga is a changed machine! One night isn't enough to do much, but Takuya managed to slim it down, slightly. Making it a bit faster and more agile in the hopes of mimicking the mobile suit Banagher is used to.

Come the morning, Banagher showers, staring hard at his hair in the mirror. Raking a brush through his hair is... somewhat effective. At least the tangles are gone. Rummaging around in his bathroom drawer, he finds a few bobby pins Leina or Audrey must've left. Maybe?

Banagher pins some of his hair back. The rest seems to fluff up more, as if compensating. Well, at least it's a visible effort?

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

Does Angelo know the story of Elpeo Puru? Could that reach his heart?

"You want to save a dead girl," he summarizes, slowly, flatly. Uncharitably.

"Then do her a favor and put her back where she came from. Otherwise this world will just keep using her for the only use it ever saw in her."

Did it reach his heart? The detachment would say no.

But maybe that's just what he sees as merciful for her.

                ~* Day Six *~

Angelo Sauper stares at Banagher's pinned down hair in abject silence for a solid ten seconds in which he looks like a cross between offended and flummoxed. His right eyebrow spasms twice during that stare.

"... You're hopeless. I expect better next time, even though I have no reason to."

And then, he exits.

Training, as promised, becomes more difficult from this point on. Fortunately, it doesn't mean more laps!

It just means more, aggressive exercise routines. Like jumping jacks! Or squats! Pull ups!

At one time Angelo invokes the dread art of burpees, largely because he fully expects Banagher to be unable to!

Oh, and he does five more laps today, specifically, because of the hair.

At the end, Angelo stares at the modifications made to Banagher's Doga. He frowns quietly, says nothing, and leaves.

It's hard to say why, but at least it distracted him from the hair for a bit.

        ~* Day Seven *~

"My job is to help you keep hold onto your valuable life, recruit. A fastidious life breeds discipline. Discipline means control. If you learn how to control yourself, maybe you'll stop diving recklessly into every available opportunity to make yourself as vulnerable as possible."

This is the explanation Angelo Sauper offers, generously, as to why he needs Banagher to clean the lieutenant's quarters to the young spacenoid's typical, daily specifications. They are long. They are full of obsessive minutiae that should not be necessary on a day to day basis. They are excruciating. Some of them involve a toothbrush to get at hard to reach places in the room.

All of them are exhausting and how does Angelo do this every single day--

"And wouldn't that be something?"

His room is remarkably spartan, in a way similar to Full Frontal's. Part of it, no doubt, is the simple fact that these AREN'T his quarters. Not really.

But there's just... nothing. Nothing that suggests anything Angelo might take joy in. Anything he might find interesting.

Nothing except a preserved purple rose he keeps next to his bedstand, that Banagher is not allowed to touch, or talk about.

Normal training resumes after. Today, it isn't as bad, at least. Of course --

That's relative.

        ~* Day Eight *~

Today, Banagher does more mobile suit training; while day six involved more mobility training, this time is different. This time?

This time is direct training against two of Angelo's fellow Guardsmen. They use Zulus -- Banagher is with his Doga, modified though it is. They all, fortunately, are not using live ammunition.

"You know you will never have the advantage of numbers. None of us in the Sleeves do, either. Nor do we have the advantage in technology. You won't always have that edge, recruit. Your enemies won't care how unfair that is. Begin!"

After, regardless of results, he will stay to watch Banagher work on his machine, if he does. If Takuya is there, he'll only have withering glares to spare.

"I'm under no compulsion from the Colonel not to shoot you where you stand," is his helpful, initial introduction. Yay! Friendship!

        ~* Day Eight *~

Before any of his regular training today, Banagher takes the lessons learned cleaning Angelo's quarters to his own.

Angelo is largely silent after he makes his instructions clear. Arms crossed over his chest, he stays near the exit of the room, as if he simply... doesn't want to go any further into this place than he has to. Hooded eyes sweep the place, a frown lingering on his lips.

"What have you been doing to the Geara Doga?"

he asks, abruptly.

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

"I do." Banagher says, standing firm on the issue of Elpeo. "I want to save her and give her back her life. I'll keep her safe from people like Vist."

It's foolish. It's probably impossible. Banagher is unmoved by these things.

--Day Six--

"S--sorry." Banagher mumbles, at Angelo's disapproval. "I'll ask the Captain for help. Is there some kind of style you're expecting, or..."

Banagher has never in his life done more than brush his hair. He has no idea what to do to meet Angelo's approval.

An honest, genuine attempt is made at the more difficult exercises. Angelo will, perhaps, remember Banagher was a 16 year old in an engineering college from his performance. Adding to that his lack of sleep and layers of exhaustion...

It's not a very spectacular showing. Banagher manages jumping jacks and squats alright, though pull ups are impossible. Oddly, burpees go better -- Banagher's Newtype-given spatial awareness giving him impressive coordination. Of course, he still collapses halfway through his second attempt, nauseous and sweating.

Five laps go by slowly. Banagher lays on the floor once he's finished, gasping for breath. He's so exhausted by the end of the day, he doesn't even notice Angelo regarding the Geara Doga. Takuya gives Angelo an awkward wave, and a young lady standing just behind him glares at the Lieutenant.

It seems Banagher's harsh training has not gone unnoticed by Micott.

--Day Seven--

"Alright." Banagher answers. "That makes sense. You sound like Leina and Audrey after I-- did something really dumb." Maybe don't tell Angelo he took an anti-fleet missile. He's learning. "I don't regret it, though." Banagher inspects the toothbrush. "They didn't make me clean, but Leina duct-taped me to a transport bed." He smiles at the memory.

This part of training sounds really annoying, but at least it doesn't seem entirely motivated by spite. The Lieutenant is keeping his word, just as Banagher is. He can respect that.

"Why don't you have anything in here?" Banagher asks, scrubbing away with his given toothbrush. He's definitely making a bigger handle for this thing. "You've got to charge your phone somewhere. I was sure there'd be a picture of the Colonel or something."

No way Angelo does every single one of these tasks every day. Once, Banagher falls asleep midway through tending to Angelo's bedspread. Falling victim to the 'I can close my eyes for just a second' blunder, he floats just above the Lieutenant's bed, soundly asleep in a matter of moments.

If not told better, Banagher will absolutely try to touch the purple rose, curious at Angelo's seemingly one personal item.

Cleaning is better than the hellish workouts. At least his muscles get a break. --Day Eight--

Little by little, Banagher and Takuya have modified the Geara Doga. It's now remarkably slim, with a fully overhauled computer system. With Micott's assistance, renovations move even more quickly -- though she still stops to glare at Angelo every time she sees him.

Despite all their work, Banagher doesn't feel confident in his chances against two of the Royal Guard. Takuya and Micott show up to cheer Banagher on -- Takuya quickly warded off from making small talk with Angelo by one of those glares. Micott, however, gives Angelo one of her fiercest glares. She is not scared off easily.

Angelo begins the exercise, and Banagher draws his beam machine gun. He's gotten the feel of it in the simulations. Instead of firing, he darts straight up, trying to find cover for his machine. Even with his modifications, there's no way the Doga will outrun its more modern cousins.

Banagher tries to separate the two Guardsmen, making it a battle of attrition. It's unlikely he'll win, but again, the effort is visible.

"Just try it!" Micott challenges Angelo. "Captain York will throw you off this ship in a second!"

--Day Nine--

Angelo's view of Banagher's quarters reveals a space more home-y than his own, but still rather empty. All Banagher's belongings were destroyed on Industrial 7, save for one.

"Hello! Hello!" A green Haro chimes, flapping his little winglets as he greets the Lieutenant. The little creature has been modified -- glowing white around his center, and on a simple decal of a unicorn horn above his eyes.

Bangher doesn't look back from scrubbing some obscure corner. "Haro, we talked about this. Please leave the Lieutenant alone."

Haro, without a hint of irony, extends an arm to offer Angelo a salute. "Lieutenant! Goodbye!"

Thus deprived of a potential source of attention, Haro returns to Banagher. The young man hands Haro his toothbrush, pulling another from his pocket. Using his prized hands, the little companion floats to another corner and begins scrubbing.

Banagher moves into his bedroom area, coiling his own phone charger nicely. Bed already made, there's not much else to do in there, and he wanders back out to the main area as Angelo speaks.

"We've been trying to make it more agile." Banagher explains. He pulls out his phone, flipping through his photos to show Angelo a series of hastily-drawn plans. "Takuya mapped it out, then we decided on what we could lose or lessen. Even if we gave it a ton of armor, it wouldn't hold up against modern weapon's attacks, so..."

Swipe, swipe. More plans, these with scribbled notes in three different sets of handwriting. "We decided to make it as light as possible. If it's gonna get one-shot anyway, reduce the armor. Micott helped with modernizing the computer system, and I put together new controls to match the Unicorn's. Lavhi let us use some spare parts, so we got some old touch pads..."

"Oh, Takuya added that as a joke. We're not actually doing it." A drawing of the Geara Doga with a Unicorn-style horn extending from its helmet. "We're gonna paint it a nicer green, though."

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

    ~* Day Seven *~

Banagher gets exactly no response from Angelo on anything related to his personal life (he does, however, managed to drag out a briefly flabbergasted look for the Full Frontal Photograph remark as if he almost - ALMOST - netted an exasperated denial). No; Angelo says nothing, until--

Even just a single finger brushes across even a single dried petal of a purpose rose.

"-Do not touch that-," the lieutenant rebukes immediately, harshly. His frown is a deep and abiding thing.

"'Leina' was right to duct tape you."

    ~* Day Eight *~

Angelo takes in the sight of the new arrival leveling her harshest glare on him with the flattest of expressions.

"There are more of you," he deadpans. "Marvelous."

Banagher performs admirably, even if he doesn't manage to persevere in the end. His gambit allows him to 'disable' the Geara Zulu belonging to Bato Paserinos before his partner, Cuaron Masuka, is able to close the distance and land a 'disabling' blow on Banagher himself.

Angelo watches the entire exchange with a meticulously maintained dispassionate; his violet eyes narrow fractionally, fingers closing into fists just before his exchange with Banagher's friends. Micott levels her threat. Angelo does not bother to look her way as he scoffs, and turns away.

"Please," he insists, "stop tempting me."

    ~* Day Nine *~
    
Without Banagher paying attention, the expression that Angelo offers his Haro isn't quite the open, omni-directional loathing that he offers everyone else.

Don't misunderstand; it's still there. Especially when he fixates on that horn and his lips mildly curdle like he just gulped down sour milk.

But there's more... bemusement.

Caught off guard.

As if...

He's uncertain how to react.

It only deepens when the little green thing snaps off a salute and bounces off.

Thusly freed of trying to parse how a Haro makes him feel, Angelo settles back into a curt neutrality once more. He settles himself by staring at the freshly-cleaned-if-somewhat-barren homeliness of Banagher's room. By the time Banagher approaches him with his phone he is back to his Bound-by-Loyalty professionalism: gaze hooded, jaw set, and back straight, he doesn't budge as Banagher approaches him, merely letting that unreadably violet gaze twitch over to the photographed plans.

They're serviceable ideas; a less critical person would even call them smart choices. It reminds him of his Geara Doga, sacrificing defense for firepower. The first mobile suit he ever piloted; the suit he piloted, helping secure the Sinanju.

Most of all... it shows clearly all of their experience with such things. From their time in school. From their normal lives.

His eyes narrow as he sees that cute little doodle with the Unicorn horn and something spills over; Angelo finally speaks:

"What is your obsession with that machine?"

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

--Day Seven--

All attempts to connect with Angelo end in failure. This is almost certainly by design -- and to Banagher, it's not too heartbreaking. The Lieutenant is prickly at best, outright strange at worst. How can Angelo remain so fervent in his devotion after the things Full Frontal after seeing the things the Ghost of Char has done? Is there any line Angelo wouldn't cross in service of Full Frontal?

Banagher wonders, as he cleans. How far would he go for Audrey or Leina, if they asked?

Maybe Angelo isn't so strange.

Curious eyes glance at Angelo even as Banagher pulls his hand back from the purple rose. He doesn't ask. It'd be a waste of breath.

"Sorry, Lieutenant." Banagher can't help but smile at Angelo invoking Leina's name. "You should talk to Leina sometime. She's very passionate about Spacenoid rights, like you are."

Of course, if Angelo is anything less than respectful toward Leina, Banagher will punch him again. Promise or not.

--Day Eight--

Micott puffs up like an angry cat. "Well you don't have to worry. Because of people like you, we're all that's left of our class!"

Takuya sighs, turning his gaze back out to Banagher. Micott is right. He's not fond of Angelo either, but there's no point in fighting with him.

Banagher, pleased with his performance, comes back to the Ra Mari II with a dozen more ideas for adjusting the Geara Doga. As Angelo chooses to leave instead of talking to him, Banagher rushes over to his friends. Talk of engineering is enough to soothe Micott's heart -- this time.

--Day Nine--

If Haro is aware of Angelo's secret fondness (?) toward him, the little robot keeps it to himself. Perhaps the Lieutenant could find a place at HaroCon. For now, Haro seems oblivious of both ire and bemusement, happily obeying Banagher.

Angelo doesn't seem to immediately hate the designs Banagher shows him, which feels like an immense victory. The smile that begins to appear on his face is quickly cut short at Angelo's next question.

Obsession? He's going to go there?

"She's a part of me." Banagher answers, honestly, easily. "I can feel where she is no matter how far apart we are. Something changed after that light saved the Garencieres and the Ra Mari II. Besides..."

Golden eyes look directly into Angelo's own. "If you're fated to be bound to something, isn't it better to love it? Hating her, and the life I have now -- it wouldn't change anything. I'd still have to find the Box, but it'd be so much more miserable."

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

        ~* Day Nine *~

He's absolutely going to go there. Without even blinking.

Is it ironic? Extremely. But then...

Banagher is just -strange- to Angelo, at best.

At worst...

Really, Angelo should just move on, cut the irritation off at the pass and push past into their training, like he's done every time he's felt it welling up inside of him. It's by far the most innocuous and harmless thing that's raised his ire; it's just a joking picture of a horn on a Geara Doga.

Why is it upsetting him so much?

Even he doesn't know why --

"After -we- saved you."

-- and that just makes him angrier.

It's seething there, scarcely contained beneath the surface, when gold eyes find violet ones.

        If you're fated to be bound to something, isn't it better to love it?

His teeth grit.

"Oh, isn't that just an -uplifting- thought. Just love the thing you're stuck with." Angelo's brows lift, aiding and abetting the dismissal of his tone as obligation does its best to wrangle his burgeoning scorn.

"All that matters in that... THING... is its cockpit. The -better- option would have been to keep -that-,"

violet eyes narrow as they stare into gold,

"and scrap the rest of the abomination."

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Angelo's irritation sparks against Banagher's soul, draining any lingering desire to try and find common ground with the Lieutenant. Banagher slides his phone back into his hoodie pocket.

"Why do you hate her so much?!" Banagher asks, temper flaring. "Why do you hate me so much? The Unicorn is your only chance at the Box, and you act like she's dirt on your heel!"

Hands ball into fists. "Nothing is enough for you. I don't know what your issues are with the world -- but the Unicorn hasn't done anything to you! She and I -- we've spent more time defending the Garencieres than you or the Colonel."

Banagher shouldn't be getting worked up. Angelo is hateful. Angelo is confusing. It's what he knew getting into this. But after Banagher has done everything asked of him this week, only to be met with scorn... It's starting to wear on him.

What he wouldn't give to punch the Lieutenant in the face again. Knock some of his stupidly-perfect hair out of place.

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

Why does Angelo hate the Unicorn? Why does he hate Banagher?

The dam bursts.

"--We should never have had to deal with you!" shouts Angelo. "You're a fluke! Your 'Unicorn' is the only thing we dispossessed have left and you lord it over us with your whining and your stupid, ASININE insistence on miracles! There's no such thing! There NEVER was! You're a brat, and we have to pretend we care, because you bumbled into that machine!"

Even if they're shouted so spitefully, they're probably not all that surprising on their face. But they're not the real reason. Are they?

"And yet, and YET, somehow--"

The truth is...

                                "--YOU have value--!" (You're a threat to everything I am.)

Angelo cuts himself off. He takes a sudden and swift step back, as if to immediately put distance between himself and Banagher. Maybe he senses the threat of impending physical violence.

"--The Geara Doga," he suddenly says, as if grasping onto some absurd tangent in lieu of pushing any further down the road they had been going, "doesn't -need- a -horn-. It looks ridiculous."

<Pose Tracker> Banagher Links has posed.

Banagher's eyes widen at Angelo shouting, stunned into silence. Was this what the Lieutenant was keeping contained all this time? All that hate and rage...

Comes from jealousy?

The step back isn't necessary. Banagher is too shocked to think about violence, but it serves to bring him back to reality.

Silence stretches out. The only sound is the gentle hum of Haro's servos as he continues scrubbing away, oblivious to the anger of the two young men.

"...all I wanted was to protect her." Banagher says, once he's collected himself. "The rest happened by accident."

Angelo knows this. He made that clear. Banagher brings his hands up, resting them in his hoodie pockets. A sort of retreat. "I know you won't care, or believe me, but -- Lieutenant, I'm a Spacenoid from a bad situation. I want to make things better for people like us." Golden eyes close. "Just not at the expense of even more suffering."

"If I gave you the Box." Banagher speaks, still keeping his eyes closed. "You yourself, not the Colonel. What would you do? If you were the Unicorn's pilot..."

Would you do things differently? Would you be better? Make fewer mistakes?

Eyes open again, the spell broken by Angelo's return to criticizing Takuya's joke-drawing. "It did look stupid." One last attempt at reaching out. "Maybe I'll just paint a Haro on the back instead."

<Pose Tracker> Angelo Sauper has posed.

He's revealed too much.

For some people, this is what you'd call 'a weight off their shoulders.' There's a palpable relief in confession. In unburdening.

For Angelo...

The Lieutenant just coils up on himself physically and emotionally until there's nothing left but the hedgehog's spines hiding a core of disgust.

Angelo takes another step back, scoffing at the gold-eyed Newtype's declaration. I want to make things better for people like us.

"You -can't-," he says, with tense emphasis, as if it was literally impossible. For the rest... for the rest, he regards Banagher, his attempts to reach out, as warily as an animal guided by instinct regards the feeling just before a predator's pounce. His brows furrow at Banagher's hypothetical; his entire body tenses with a bristle. What would he do if he had the Box?

Without the Colonel?

For a long time, there is silence. And then, quietly:

"... You just don't get it. None of you do."

Angelo straightens, slowly.

"What would I do, in this outlandish, imaginary situation?" What would he do, if he had power? If he could influence this world?

Memories of a place he could only pray to escape from drift through his guarded thoughts.

Wishing, hoping...

"I'd use it for him."

        ... praying someone would raze this entire broken world to the ground.

"Nothing can be accomplished without him. He's the only one who can pull the trigger." Angelo's gaze narrows as he looks aside.

        Someone free of filth. Someone...
        ... someone inhuman.

"Everyone else is too weak. Too tainted." Too human.

Everyone.

A long silence passes. Angelo gradually straightens, forcing himself back into that tense calm as Banagher makes that final attempt.

        Maybe I'll just paint a Haro on the back instead.

"... Do whatever you want."

Angelo is a mask of neutrality again; the invocation of Full Frontal reminding him of his duty here, he makes his way towards the door, turning his back on Banagher as he does.

"Get ready for your training. Mobile Suit regimens will be increased to every other day until the Colonel gives you your lesson you want so much. Hopefully, you'll learn something."

The door hisses open. And Angelo looks to exit unless stopped, pushing off into the hall.

"And fix your damn hair!"

hsss

        ~*~

Perhaps surprisingly, for the rest of their training, Angelo is no less or more ruthless than he has been, despite everything.

And maybe that's worse, in its way.