[OPEN] ❖ and i can't stop till the whole world knows my name

[doitrockapella]

WHO: Carmen Sandiego and YOU!
WHERE: Various: the Deadeye Shooting Range, the Recollé Rec and Fitness Center, Recollé University's Art Department, and a bonus at the Sandiego Foundation in Enprise.
WHEN: Sunday, July 23!
WHAT: A day in the life of Carmen Sandiego, including but not limited to the search for a sketch artist, some wildly extra athletic activity, and an opportunity for taking the first step toward becoming a Level 4 Friend and unlocking her Tragic Backstory. Also includes one (1) adorable cat.
WARNINGS: None that I can immediately think of? I'll warn in individual threads if topics come up that would necessitate it!


I: DEADEYE SHOOTING RANGE

[The shooting range on a Sunday morning isn't exactly what you might call a high-traffic spot; presumably most of the people who would tend to visit and patronize it are either (quite sensibly) still sleeping in, or enjoying their morning in some other capacity than coming out here to practice on the range. So all in all, the range is fairly quiet at this time of morning, but there are stragglers here and there still making good use of it — getting in a little early bird practice, perhaps, or maybe just preferring to work on their aim at a time when things aren't quite so crowded otherwise.

Carmen, however, is not one of those people. That is to say, she's here at the range, and it certainly is Sunday morning, but oddly enough she isn't going anywhere near the stalls, and seems to have no interest in claiming one for herself to practice in to begin with. She's simply favoring the outdoor portion, paying what seems to be rapt attention to the few people shooting this morning.

She's good at hiding her tells, and always has been. Really, you'd never guess that the sound of gunfire bothers her at all, unless you happened to be looking at her very closely — close enough to realize that she's biting down on the very corner of her lip, and her fingers are half-curled around the edge of the bench she's sitting on, as though she's holding herself in place on some internal force of will, rather than giving in to her instincts and inclinations to get up.]

II: RECOLLÉ RECREATION AND FITNESS CENTER

[You know what's fun for the whole family? Those multicolored climbing walls you often see at workout centers. And certainly Carmen seems to think so, because once she's done at the shooting range, it's off to the RRFC for a flurry of activity that seems to be much more to her liking — if the enthusiasm with which she keeps scaling the climbing walls is any indication.

If you happen to catch her at this point, it's entirely possible she'll cheerfully hold a conversation while she's dangling by her fingertips halfway up the side of a wall; it doesn't seem to bother her in the slightest, and she clearly doesn't seem to have a problem with dividing her attention between hanging on and whoever's calling up to her from the ground below (or from next to her on the wall, as the case may be).

Once she's finished with that, she can also be spotted working one-on-one with one of the instructors in the martial arts section of the center. Seems as though she might be doing capoeira — and it further seems as though she's actually quite good at it.

Unlike with her wall climb, she's not likely to notice any spectators until she's finished with her practice, but she'll be easy enough to catch once she's had the opportunity to shower and warm down from the exertion.]

III. RECOLLÉ UNIVERSITY ART DEPARTMENT

[Come the afternoon, it appears the good Miss Sandiego can be found on the campus of Recollé University, specifically paying a visit to the art department. It seems as though she's looking for someone to act as a sketch artist on her behalf.

But of course, once that's out of the way, there's no point in not looking around the department as a whole for a little while. The Sandiego Foundation building isn't going to decorate itself, after all, and certainly a little local exposure for a budding art student's work never hurt anything, now did it?]

IV: BONUS: THE SANDIEGO FOUNDATION

[Speaking of the Sandiego Foundation, if you happen to be walking past the building in Enprise today (you can't miss it, really, it's the one that looks like a repurposed stately old bank building, because in fact that's exactly what it is), you might just spot something a little peculiar in one of the windows:

Namely, a cat, who despite looking as though it has completely forgotten how all conception of motor function works, seems to be at least reasonably content with itself.

Linger long enough and he'll probably notice you! Show him attention and he'll probably wander over to where you're standing in an attempt to sniff at you through the glass! Look very carefully and you'll spot that he's wearing a tag identifying him as "Bustopher Jones".

One has to wonder, though, if he mightn't be better named after one of the other figures from Old Possum's Book of Practical Cats, because if you hold his attention long enough, you might just find that the good mister Bustopher Jones has a particular knack for being an escape artist, and where he'd once been cheerfully in the window, he's now found his way outside to suck up to you.

What a good cat he is!]

[OOC: All prompts are open to everyone save for the sketch artist prompt at Recollé University, which is first come, first served! Please only grab that prompt if your character has the skills necessary for it; Carmen's looking to describe something and have someone sketch it for her, so that's the kind of person she'd be seeking out to help her with it!

Otherwise, have fun! Also please note that in the final prompt, Bustopher Jones is on an invisible fence, so while he can get in and out of the foundation building itself, he is not eminently theftable. Thanks!]

Comments

IV, kind of

[originallutece]

[It's not that Rosalind is trying to solicit Bustopher (Mr. Jones if you're nasty)'s attention any, but she seems to have caught it nonetheless. Perhaps it's the way she keeps glancing up at him, a little startled to see a pet wandering around in what's presumably a place of business. Perhaps it's because all cats instinctively know when a person is uncomfortable around them, and thus enjoy (for lack of a better term) fucking around with them a little. Or perhaps Rosalind just looks as though she might have a treat in her pocket. Who can say?

Regardless: there he'd come, wriggling out of a half-opened window and leaping down onto the street. And while Rosalind doesn't like cats all that much, she's not heartless; she's not going to let someone's pet wander around when it's so easy to grab it and march it back inside.

So here she is, nudging open the door to the Sandiego Foundation, looking quite irritated as she holds a purring cat in her arms.

Where in the building is Carmen Sandiego, anyway?]

[doitrockapella]

[Bustopher Jones is a good cat! He is a good cat like you wanted, and also an escape artist, which let's be real, some incarnation of Carmen probably wanted.

(Obligatory cat burglar joke here.)

He is assuredly flopping all over the place while he's being carried, however, or at the very least is doing his very best to — depending on how good of a hold Ros has on him, that may mean he's mostly still in place but just a gigantic blob of fur-covered jelly, or it may mean that he's actively attempting to slip through her fingers and form a puddle on the ground. Only time will tell.

Curiously, it seems that Carmen is conspicuously absent at the moment; maybe she's out and on her way back? Maybe she'll show up in another tag or two, certainly.]

[originallutece]

For god's sake--

[She hoists the cat up, trying to get a better grip on him and prevent him from flopping onto the floor. If he drops down, he'll undoubtedly try and escape, and she's not about to run around chasing him. He isn't even her responsibility, and honestly, what is her life that she's taking care of this cat, Christ--

Anyway. She grits her teeth and heads inside, peering into office after office.]

[doitrockapella]

[Alas, Ros is doomed to be a Cat Custodian™ for a least a few minutes more.

The nice thing about marble floors, however, is that a pair of killer red pumps make a very satisfying machine-gun clatter against them when a particularly poised person strides confidently across the expanse of them, and after about ten minutes that's precisely the sound that ricochets off the high stone walls and all the way up to the vaulted ceilings.]

Bus, I'm back —

[She remarks, in that idle way that people sometimes talk offhandedly to cats who they only vaguely sense are in the general vicinity somewhere.]

[originallutece]

Oh, thank god--

[Turning, Ros lets the cat drop from her arms. She doesn't do it cruelly, but still: enough. Let Bustopher go to his mistress, because five whole minutes of catsitting was more than enough, thank you.]

Your cat nearly escaped.

[doitrockapella]

He does have a nasty tendency of doing that. Good afternoon, Dr. Lutece.

[Oh, boy! It's Bustopher's favorite person! And so off he runs — for a whopping eight steps, before promptly overextending on one of his forward steps and flopping down bonelessly onto his side before looking around in vague wonder, as if bewildered how he's just ended up on the ground.]

I appreciate the rescue, but if it lends you some peace of mind, there's an invisible fence set up around the premises. He can get in and out, but he can't quite be the "cat about town" that his namesake was, fortunately.

[originallutece]

[Good grief. Good grief, and she glances down at him with mild consternation. But all right, Carmen doesn't seem worried, so she'll just . . . leave him . . . be . . .]

That is comforting. Who was he named after?

II

[scarlet_devil]

[ Émilie is a vain young woman who of course would naturally take regular visits to the fitness center and keep herself properly trim.

She comes across Carmen by chance after Émi had finished her session in the fitness center, in dire need of a shower, and... the young woman stopped, somewhat impressed at what she saw in the martial arts section...]

[doitrockapella]

[She's wrapping up her bout with her trainer when Émilie happens to swing past, which in practice means there's a fair amount of kicking involved and the two of them have worked up to a pace that's fairly rapid, trading moves that either fail to land altogether or come close to striking but then stop short before actually making contact. And indeed, as things eventually do wind down, the trainer remarks that she's "making good progress", yet adds a reminder not to "push things" before letting her go.

It's only after she's wound down herself and is dabbing at her neck with a small towel that she notices her audience, and nods slightly in recognition.]

[scarlet_devil]

[ It's so far much better than Émilie could do... She could barely keep up with the movements, and she does fencing. ]

You looked impressive out there, I must say.

[doitrockapella]

[Be careful how loud you mention that, Émilie, or you might just find yourself roped into offering a demonstration — or lessons.]

It's a style I'm fond of, for a number of reasons — particularly in the way it focuses more on evasiveness than on blocking, on the defensive. Better not to get hit at all than to try to stop one from doing damage when it lands.

[She smiles softly.]

Are you interested in capoeira?

[scarlet_devil]

[ Well. She could try and get out of it. She didn't mind watching, certainly. ]

I'm not certain I have the reflexes for that. I do think it's fun to watch...

[doitrockapella]

Mm, reflexes are like anything else — usually improved with practice, no matter where they are when you begin.

[Thanks, edutainment™.]

What do you prefer to occupy yourself with, instead?

I

[thisloveisjustice]

[Tatsuo generally doesn't visit the shooting range on Sunday mornings. Actually, he didn't used to visit the range at all, but with the whole getting gun related memories dumped into his head, the sudden ability to shoot well out of the blue, and a pair of guns sent to him in the mail... he's started visiting the range on a weekly basis. Just not on Sunday.

But various things happened over the weekend, and for once heading to the dojo and pounding on a heavy bag didn't seem like it'd be enough. So he's brought both revolvers with him to the outdoor range and is trying to see if he likes one over the other. So far, they seem fairly identical, which makes sense since they're the exact same model of gun, S&W 36.

After shooting for about fifteen minutes, alternating between guns, Tatsuo lays them down on the bench and takes a step back to rest his hands. He doesn't have calluses on his hands in the right places yet, and the revolvers are still leaving his hands a bit tender. As he glances over at the other shooters, he notices they have an audience. He isn't close enough to see the tightness in her mouth, but he can seen the tension in her arms. He's not sure what to make of it though.]

Just going to watch?

[doitrockapella]

[She doesn't jump when Tatsuo addresses her, which is at least one signal that she's not sitting there lost in thought; quite the contrary, she's highly attentive to what's going on around her, which is possibly part of the problem — or at least, a deliberate part of the exercise.

She's poised, though, when she calls back to answer him. Now that the sound of gunfire isn't in the air, it's a little easier to fall back and re-center herself again.]

If you don't mind a spectator. I'm not very fond of weapons.

[And yet here she is at a shooting range. Now there's a paradox.

She gets up, however, and comes walking over, choosing her path neatly because for some utterly perplexing reason, she's come out to the range in red high heels instead of a more sensible form of footwear.]

What about you? How well did you shoot?

[thisloveisjustice]

No, I don't mind.

[Doesn't like weapons and yet is watching at a gun range. An attempt to acclimate to the stressor?]

Better than last week.

[He nods out to were the target is, 25 yards away. If they were inside, he could just reel in his paper target, but there are no paper targets outside. Instead he just has to keep his eyes focused on where each shot lands. 25 yards is still a struggle for him, but less of a struggle than it was a month ago.]

Gradually getting better. Cluster is tightening, accuracy is improving.

[doitrockapella]

[Not bad, Tatsuo. Now that's a deduction that, if voiced, she would confirm as being entirely correct.]

And what goal are you working toward? I'm sure you have one.

[thisloveisjustice]

[Tatsuo is slightly startled by Carmen's question. Mainly because no one's asked him directly before. And slightly because he's avoided thinking about it. But he still knows what his goal is, deep inside.]

Short term? Pass the certification test so I can carry while on the job. I work for the RPD Crime Lab. It's not required of us, but it is encouraged.

Long term?

[Tatsuo shrugs slightly.]

To figure out what I'm capable of, so that if I ever do need to use a gun, I know that I'm the one in control.

[Not the gun. Not the situation. And certainly not the man whose shooting skills he's slowly coopting for his own.]

[doitrockapella]

[It's an explanation she listens to thoughtfully, seeming to turn it over in her mind a few times before eventually settling on the remarks she wants to offer.]

I've had philosophical differences with some of my colleagues about the sort of scenario you're describing before. Mostly it boils down to a difference of opinion, of whether or not there really is a situation that necessitates a gun.

[She's more deliberate in the way she says it than accusatory, however — less challenging any one particular perspective, and more seeming to weigh out the merits of both while she thinks out loud.]

There's an old saying — "God made man, and Samuel Colt made them equal." That's about what you had in mind too, isn't it?

[b0mbshell]

II.) RECOLLÉ RECREATION AND FITNESS CENTER

[Kaz has always made an effort to keep fit in general. As if he is used to spending most of his time at a desk, his once a week workouts might as well be prep for running a whole marathon. He keeps in excellent condition, does stretches, runs on the treadmill, lifts weights, has a whole routine.]

[And he admires people that keep fit, too. That's why Carmen working out is one hell of a distraction that he keeps an eye on as he goes by. Leading to him stepping on the grip of someone's practice botan, having it roll under his foot, and then end up on the mat on his back with his feet slightly lifted.]

[Kazuhira is just lying there now looking like he didn't understand why the world went horizontal without his say so.]

[Hoping that she didn't notice (who could miss that sound, though) he hauls himself back up to standing.]

[doitrockapella]

[Who could miss that sound, indeed; she's actually halfway into a cartwheel when she hears it, and while it doesn't altogether throw off her balance, it does make her change her course and skip a kick in favor of shifting right back into a back handspring that will let her try to steal another look.

...Well, well. Small world, running into Kaz here — and if she weren't mid-bout she'd probably go over at once to see if he's all right, but as it is her instructor hasn't noticed her attention going awry yet and if she's not careful she's going to get herself kicked.

Once she's able to catch his eye, though, she signals for a break and he nods, letting her go as she trots off their mats and winds her way over, dabbing a hand towel she'd snatched up in transit against her lightly perspiring face.]

That looked like a nasty fall. Are you all right?

[b0mbshell]

[There went his dignities. All of them. Scattered to drift away in the wind like so much sadness. He grins awkwardly as he brushes himself off.] Yeah! I'm fine. Lucky for me, I'm made a rubber and copious amounts of charm so I can make it through most calamities.

[Just not many humiliating ones.]

Soooo... You were uh- [He tips his head towards the mats.] -pretty good up there, I gotta say. I guess you're a real Renaissance woman. [Smooth, he's so smooth, she'll never notice the way he's rubbing the back of his head from where he hit the deck.]

[doitrockapella]

That's a flattering way of saying I'm full of surprises — and I'll take it as the compliment it is.

[She says, with a smile.]

Are you very familiar with capoeira?

[b0mbshell]

I feel sorry for the people that don't like surprises. They're missing some charming company. I'm laying it on a little thick aren't I? Just a little.

[He made a smidge space between his fingers, still grinning.]

Yeah, but... not in the way that I practiced it or anything. Just stuff you watch on youtube.

[doitrockapella]

Thick as an Encyclopedia Britannica, I'd say.

[Now there's a #90s reference for you. A complete Encyclopedia Britannica!]

But no, it's a style I'm particularly fond of — capoeira, that is. By design it's fluid, and allows for rapid responses to changes in the course of the fight. And for fighting effectively in a bout where you're outnumbered, besides.