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[Mama Miller is having concerns about the smaller people on board. He often claims to not like children, but he remembers what it felt like to be treated like he should be an adult. He's so good at business because he was running one at the age of ten, because his mother had become ill. He's seen so many child soldiers have their lives stripped away. He thinks that with a little bit more support, they won't grow up to be the type of people he would hire.]

[Better survival rate in general.]

It's come to my attention there are not only a lot of refugee children on board, but a few among the crew as well.

I'm dubious about giving those sorts of jobs to children. Not my call to make, though. What I do think is they should have some sort of education. Reading. Writing. Math. The basics. There's a decent library for materials, and I suspect people willing to tutor. And some activities that don't involve the mess hall or cleaning bathrooms.

They're crew, but they're still kids. They deserve all the advantages of being one.

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I actually agree with you.

[Which doesn't happen too often but it does happen.]

There are people on this ship that aren't suited for combat. Those are the roles we play.

[It's the life they lead.]

Giving them something less dangerous but constructive to do is good for morale.

[There's an amused tone in his voice.]

Maybe you should get a job as head morale officer, instead.

Edited 2016-02-05 14:34 (UTC)

I think my current one is fine, but morale is still important.

[He's not all that surprised that Ocelot agrees with him. He went along with the idea at motherbase without any protest, now that he thinks back on it. But it's still a little baffling when they reach a cordial agreement in general.]

I suppose even if they're capable of combat, it shouldn't be the focus of their lives if it doesn't have to be. And I've seen what the library has to offer. There's a good chance to learn about histories that they never would have had access to before.

The library? Yeah, I need to check that out.

[He imagines a library on a spaceship is pretty impressive.]

If people work in the library, I'm sure they can find the time to teach the kids a thing or two.

Looks like there's actually some teachers. So maybe some people can help with the recreational bit, too.

I found some books about military figures from different planets in there. Except right now I'm thinking a little more local, brushing up on the history of the Swamp Fox, Francis Marion. It's a good example of the use of guerilla warfare in early American history.

[The problem with Miller starting to talk to you like a normal person is that he starts becoming like this and people have to deal with that. At least he derails himself.]

Did you play any games as a kid?

[Ocelot is more interested in books about this ship or the technology that brought them here. Though any of those have probably already been read through by whatever geniuses are onboard, and if they couldn't figure out how to send them back home more quickly, Ocelot is sure he doesn't stand a chance doing it.

When he's asked that question, Ocelot chuckles, soft and deep.]

Not games any kid should be playin'.

[Not any games Miller would approve of.]

What about you?

Edited 2016-02-05 16:03 (UTC)

[Russian secret military programs probably don't produce the best children's recreational games.]

Kickball and otedama. I was blond so not a lot of children wanted to be around me. But I did it a few times.

[He guesses that's a reason why the kids definitely should play.]

I'll bet you showed them up. Being different, you probably had something to prove.

[Kaz didn't have it easy, so maybe the kids here can have an easier life than either of them ever did.]

If showed them up means that I kicked a ball too hard and bloodied another boy's nose, then yes. I did.

...Wait, how old were you when you started acting like a cowboy? [He's sort of wondering if this is the longest game of pretend ever.]

That's pretty much what I envisioned.

[So yup, that would be showing them up.]

How old? I dunno... I started watching westerns when...

[Wait a minute.]

Are you mocking my persona?

No, if I was mocking your persona I would recommend you wear an obnoxiously shaped straw hat.

[Which is frankly, absolutely ridiculous to imagine Ocelot in.]

I was actually considering maybe you did get to have your own sort of fun when you were younger.

[Ocelot would rock that hat, thank you very much.]

A bit. I wasn't in training every hour of the day. I guess those old movies and tv shows were my fun. A distraction from other things.

Too bad no one has any here.

I saw some fiction when I was looking up material on the Battle of San Jacinto.

[He half noted it as something Ocelot might be interested in, anyway.]

None at all? I thought this ship was supposed to be advanced.

[But there aren't any old movies for them to watch? Ridiculous.]

What about music?

I haven't come across any available on the ship yet.

I received my guitar in the mail, though.

[The most dry voice in the world. It's the universe's worst taunt.]

You received your guitar in the mail? Out here?

[How in the hell did that happen?]

The postal service sure has improved.

It's not just my guitar. It's the one from the MSF base.

[It should be at the bottom of the ocean.]

From MSF?

[That makes him pause.]

I guess time really isn't a factor here.

No, it's really not.

[David being more evidence of that. But he doesn't say so.]

If you're not busy I'll bring it by.

[Now that actually surprises Ocelot. He tilts his head and gets a slow smile on his lips.]

Miller, are you asking me to play your guitar?

[Because he didn't even know Miller was aware he could play the guitar. It's not like he ever did so out in public. It was more of a thing he did late at night when he couldn't sleep. But with the amount of space on Mother Base, even with all the added platforms, it was still just a dot on the ocean and there were a lot of recruits. Maybe word had gotten around.]

I'm asking you to look at it. Can you play it?

Nevermind. Tell me when I get there.

[It gives him half an idea to do something. Just a little, half formed one. He knocks on Ocelot's door, the guitar strap holding it up and looking a little incongruous worn on a one-armed man.]

[It's just an acoustic thing. Not especially expensive, despite the money Kaz had available to him. It looks like something he might have grabbed in a Spanish market down in Colombia. But it's nice enough, especially for something that should have went up in flames.]

[What would be the point of just looking at it? Either way, Ocelot doesn't mind, so Miller is welcome to come by his room when he wants.

Later on, when the man knocks, the cowboy answers and lets him in. He hasn't really settled into it yet. Not like he has any belongings, anyway, but his coat is at least resting over one of the chairs.]

So that's it, huh?

[He takes a seat on his bed and gestures for Kaz to sit wherever he'd like.]

[Because it's his guitar from motherbase, that's why.]

[A lot of it is sentiment masked as practicality. This thing that he thought lost forever back... It means something, because he lost so much. Everything, basically. Then there's this. But he's fine with just saying to Ocelot that he has this little bit of evidence.]

[He pulls off his beret and tucks it into his uniform coat before disentangling the guitar to offer to Ocelot.] See how it sounds.

[Miller can't keep a tune with his voice, but he knew instruments. He knew lyrics. The guitar, as of the point it came from, is perfectly tuned.]

[Ocelot reaches to accept the guitar and sits back down. He gets comfortable, holding the guitar in front of him and placing his hands in the proper locations to play the instrument, but then pauses a moment to remove his gloves, taking one fingertip by the teeth to tug at it, then removing the other with his hand. The gloves are placed next to him and he rehandles the guitar to play it.

It's a Spanish style guitar, likely, if Kaz bought it in Columbia, so it should have a high, melodic sound.]

I'm a little rusty. [He warns before giving it a try.]

[The notes go slow at first, then speed up a little when he gains some confidence that he hasn't lost the touch. But as Kaz probably anticipated, the guitar is in good condition and perfectly in tune. When Ocelot is done strumming it for awhile, he stops and looks at Kaz.]

Sounds good to me.

Edited (okay there....) 2016-02-09 17:26 (UTC)

[He looks around for a place to site before he ends up sitting beside of Ocelot, of all things, watching him play with a sort of transfixed gaze on his right hand. Even if Ocelot's having to warm up.]

[He misses the feel of metal strings under calloused fingers, that particular feeling when his thumb caught on the large one and plucked it. The vibration of the wood.]

[Even with a prosthetic, he couldn't have that back.]

[It's not bad playing, pleasant to hear, and it's easy to get lost in watching and trying to dig up a memory. Last time he played? A few months back. Waiting for the alert that "V has awoken". He had a notebook of scribbled lyrics, all of them hopeless romanticisms about a man missing his love.]

[Thank god he got the guitar instead of that. He's certain they would have been worth wretching over.]

[As Ocelot stops playing, he considers, and reaches out for it.] What American musicians do you like?

[When he finishes playing and looks at Kaz, who is right next to him, Ocelot can't help but smile a little. It's sort of bitter-sweet, in a way. Anyone from MSF lost a lot, and Kaz has probably lost more than most. He kind of has a sort of kicked puppy look sometimes.]

Hm? Well... it varies. Johnny Cash. Hank Williams. Bob Dylan. There are a lot of great American musicians.

[He hands the guitar back.]

What about you?

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