McDonell Benedict "Kazuhira (和平)" Miller (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
warandpeace) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou2016-02-05 08:25 am
warandpeace) wrote in thisavrou2016-02-05 08:25 am
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☄ Audio
[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.
[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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[David being more evidence of that. But he doesn't say so.]
If you're not busy I'll bring it by.
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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.]
-->Action
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.]
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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.]
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[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.]
link included for fun~
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.
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[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?
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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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[Another thing Russia probably didn't have much of.]
[He pulls the strap of the guitar over his shoulder again, and lets his hand rest on the neck of it.] I think I played some on motherbase. And a few Johnny Cash songs because a lot of soldiers liked them.
[And then he looks around Ocelot's room, really looks around it. He doesn't say anything, but the way that he smiles there says more about what he thinks of the captain's oddly domestic and strangely different from floor to floor tastes.]
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[Sometimes when Miller would play, Ocelot would hear the guitar. He wouldn't join in, since the two of them never really got along all that well, but he could listen from one of the higher platforms when the music drifted up.
The room has no hint of Ocelot except for the man sitting in it. He hasn't decorated or anything, so he can only guess what Kaz is smiling about.]
What is it?
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[But "respect" doesn't always mean "like". It's just an acknowledgement, a silent vow not to underestimate.]
[There's something more human in acknowledging his guitar was pretty good, and his smile mellows.] Oh. Just this room... It's just sort of odd as far as one would think of a "crew" room. [His isn't much better.]
...I know a couple of Johnny Cash songs. Do you know any? If you could help me play for a little bit, I'll make it worth it.
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Yeah, I know a few.
[He wonders what Miller means by that, but Ocelot will help him play. He moves his hand to the strings while letting Miller hold the frets.]
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[He's never gotten on especially well with Ocelot, not until this ship and that's just moderately well. But he knows he has to be in a little bit more of a convenient position, so he sits close enough to shove his left shoulder against Ocelot's right and settle the instrument on their legs.]
Folsom Prison? Ain't no Grave? Ring of Fire?
[He wills away an odd, prickly, unsafe feeling. As much as they're getting along, this is a man that can easily take his life. He's sure he can take anything else Ocelot threw at him; after all, he spent ten days suffering torture at the hands of the Russians, severed limbs barely treated, he can handle all kinds of discomfort.]
[But he doesn't particularly want to die, even if part of him is ready to.]
[But he relaxes against his side. He misses the music. He misses the metal under his fingers, those vibrations. He can ignore any dread of discomfort for that small pleasure again.]
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As for those that tortured Kazuhira... amateurs. Removing limbs was not really Ocelot's style. His methods tended more toward a mixture of physical and psychological.]
I can do Ring of Fire.
[His fingers brush down the strings once to show he's ready to begin. Playing this way felt unnatural, so it might be a little slow going until they had a rhythm. But he was sure they could do it.]
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[He misses how that feels. Intensely. If he could get a replacement for his arm, he would want to be able to feel that again. More than anything. Because he associates it with happier times. After about thirty seconds or so, he's even completely stopped caring about sharing this discomforting proximity. It's almost even comfortable.]
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I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire. The ring of fire.
[He's actually got a decent singing voice.
Let's all praise Troy Baker for being so amazing.]no subject
[He does sing with him, but fortunately quietly rather than belting anything out. Not out of self-conciousness, but more because he's not as enthusiastic as he was in his youth. Still, he's enjoying himself enough to sing with him.]
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And although it's a love song, Ocelot can't help but think both of them are going to be in ring's of fire someday. If there is a heaven or hell, he's sure not going to heaven for all he's done in life. That's why it's so important to create their Outer Heaven on earth.]
Not bad, Miller.
[He says when it's done.]
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[It's a short lived happiness. He rarely stays happy for too long, now. But it's there.] Thanks. I'm going to miss doing that. [He turns it so it's slung over his back, reaches out for his crutch, and pulls himself to standing.]
Like I said. I'll make it up to you.
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Don't need to.
[But he's not going to argue it. He doesn't know what Miller would even have in mind.]
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Better it be these kind. [The ones where he actually genuinely appreciates what was done, that the debt is for something that helped him, rather than a debt of discomfort.]
I'm starting to think that under different circumstances we might have been friends. [At least they're functioning pretty well as close acquaintances, but he's still in a good mood as he says that. Playing the music seemed to help.]
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Circumstances are pretty different right now.
[But that's for Kaz to decide. He's probably smart enough to know, though, that friendship with Ocelot is generally only friendship as far as he's able to use the other party. He's a man that doesn't get attached to many, with Big Boss being the only exception.
Still, it wouldn't be impossible for them to continue to get along here. There would be a benefit in being allies.]
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[And he's not had any close ones beyond the phantom for a while.]
I guess they are.
[The fact he came to Ocelot to help him play a guitar is pretty telling. And he seems to be thinking hard about it. Ocelot is not yet the man that goes after David, that kills him. Ocelot's the man he's known for nine years, and even if he kept secrets from him, he remembered his glasses. It's the oddest consideration, but in a small way, it's being remembered as a person. More consideration than Zero gave him.]
[It's that man he might become he has to watch out for.]
You know where my room is. [An open invitation, at least for now, and he excuses himself.]