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[She's... barely recovered, honestly. Hanna made the brilliant decision of trying a fourth time for the sake of her brother and herself, and it went as well as you'd think it would.

Sauntering over to Garrus, she grins a little at the drinks.]

You're ready, huh?

[The grin doesn't mask the overall exhaustion. Waking up hours later from a blackout does that.]

I'm Garrus Vakarian. I'm always ready.

[Except his voice isn't as in it as it usually is, and his subharmonics are a bit more muted. Twice he's drowned. He can't begin to imagine what it did to her. That's three deaths now with the CDC, and it's little comfort that one was undone and the other two simulated.]

Have a seat, Hanna. Got a couple of hours before I'm next needed, assuming something doesn't come up.

[Which always happens, in his experience, but maybe for once it won't. Maybe they'll be able to catch their breath.]

Company would be good.

[And this way she's spared any chance of feeling guilty or like he's just doing this for her.]

[Slowly, she takes a seat next to him. She's drained, yet it's not the same sort of exhaustion she'd expect from her fires wearing her out.

It's mental as well.]

Yeah. [She sniffles a little.] I need to talk to someone a little more level-headed than D'Artagnan anyway. And someone who wasn't trying to actively kill me in the Black Box.

[Not that D'Artagnan wasn't level-headed, it was just that he's as rash as she is at times. Garrus? Not so much.]

Mm. That's one thing I got spared.

[Which probably doesn't bode well for upcoming installments, though he'd be pretty impressed with himself to find out that he doesn't come across as very rash anymore.]

Didn't see anyone I know in there. But... I probably still know some of what you're dealing with.

[Seeing as death is a familiar thing by now.]

Knew it wasn't going to be easy. Didn't realize it would be quite that, hah, intense. Really glad it wasn't someone I had an interest in coming at me, too. Seen you and him on the network.

Yeah well... he wasn't the only one. Jack shot me point blank. I had a bunch of people I knew beat me to death. I actually had to fight D'Artagnan in an arena. An arena.

[She shoots him a very tiny smirk.]

You're a snoop, by the way.

[Garrus lifts the levo cup, holding it out to her.]

First and foremost, it's not snooping when it's public, especially when it follows a message I made on the blackglass. Second... Second, it gets in your head. Knows what's gonna throw you. D'Artagnan and Jack mean something to you. Means you're probably gonna get more people you care about thrown against you.

[She's mentioned the arenas before, what happens if people with abilities don't conform just right. Garrus shakes his head.]

And finally, gonna do everything in my power to help you stay away from any actual arenas. Training, strategy, anything you need.

[She laughs softly as she takes the cup.] Fair enough. I don't want to fight them Garrus. I do better protecting them. Fighting for them.

[She twists her lips.] The only way to stay from the arenas is to train like I'm going into them.

Then we'll set up the simulation like an arena. And maybe that'll dampen the impact the Black Box taking arena form has on you.

[Once the cup is taken, his hand drops down to rest on her shoulder before Garrus gives it a light squeeze.]

Weaken the demons, so to speak. I've got you.

[The expression on her face is soft, grateful. Another moment would have seen her face harder, fiercer, but not now. She's too tired to play games.]

Thank you, Garrus. Are you going to drop the bomb on me that you're some kind of weapons master too, though? Because in those arenas? It's not just powers. It's weapons. Swords, spears, knives, knuckles, whatever man. It's... fucking medieval.

I'm an expert at firearms, decent with a mid-length blade, and I'm gonna be learning throwing knives here. I've also got some sharp edges of my own.

[Garrus pulls off his gloves, one and then the other, before showing off the talons that spend most of their time covered up.]

Shame we can't bring a ship into the arena. When it comes to spaceships, I am a weapons master.

Garrus, that's cheating of the highest order. [She cocks her head to the right slightly. Then, she looks down to her hands, opening and closing them.] Claws wouldn't be a bad idea. The metal might melt if I light my hands, though. Guess I'm stuck with the basics. But firearms. I'm not a bad shot, at least. Jack's been helping me a lot, when he can.

I cheat. That's part of how I always win, because there's no such thing as fair when there's a war on or survival's at stake.

[Garrus reaches over and takes one of her hands.]

The fire affects everything on your hands, not just the area around it? And you're immune? Never did ask how exactly it works in regard to you, physically.

Yeah. I'm a match, to put it simply. See, the fire, it comes... from me, inside me. That's the only way I can explain it. My body heat is higher than normal people. My temperature would kill most humans. If my hands get hot enough, they spark a fire. My skin's I guess adapted to not warp or melt like normal skin. But it's only my skin, my hair, my... everything. If my arms caught fire and I had long-sleeve shirt, it would burn through. So...

[For the time being, she pulls her hand from his. She dips a finger into the alcohol and drips it onto the opposite palm.]

Watch. I can make the alcohol catch fire because it's on my skin. It's not immune, because it's not a part of me.

[Holding her hand out away from them, she focuses. Not too hard, mind you, but a little more than usual. A thin, tall flame erupts to life, but the rest of her hand is only hotter than usual.]

I can make the fire move too, up to a point. If it's a wildfire, I can't control it, but I can maybe bend it a little. I've seen other people like me move huge forest fires in the arenas.

[The opposite hand hovers not too far. The flame strains and bends to meet her index finger. It follows as she moves her hand, as if she were a snake charmer making a viper dance to her music.]

How hot's the flame?

[He's not stupid enough to reach out and try to feel the heat of it himself, even though he's watching, rather fascinated by what she's doing.]

There's some things that are fire resistant. We could see about getting you access to maybe weapons made out of a material that isn't gonna melt or burn. Ceramic knuckles instead of brass ones. That sort of thing. Or we could see if we could get some pouches for you that are fire-resistant, leave some weapons on there for when you get tired.

Um. About that.

[She lessens the size of the flame to manage it better. Slowly, the flame's color shifts, from red-orange, to yellow, to blue, and, finally, to a small, blazing white flame.]

My Juggernaut's fireproof. I mean, I have the guns, but I don't like to use them that often in case my heat makes them go off by accident. It wouldn't be bad to have fireproof weapons, though. I want to learn how to use the real thing first, though. I don't want to half-ass using weapons and it'll force me to use my flames better and control it all.

So you want to learn regular weapons that aren't fireproof first, or you want to learn to control the fire first? Or is it both and just finding enough hours in the days to do that?

[If he's to judge, it seems like she's got a decent level on control over the fire by now. The temperature changes, the size, but this is a calm situation. They're not under attack or fighting for their lives, and that's when she needs to have control.]

What is it you could use from me, Hanna?

There's 72 hours in a day, I'm not short on time.

[In a fit of "fuck it," she drinks the flaming alcohol. She tilts her head back, twisting her lips. She wonders...

Her lips pucker up. A thin jet of white flames burst between her lips, which already twist into a grin.]

Still got it.

[Now that that's over, she glances at him.]

Make me a soldier, Garrus. A real soldier. I can't do it alone. Weapons... swords, guns, knives, all that. It's the tools. I'm not a soldier, I'm a brat from the Hamptons with a fucked up family that gets bored with money and needs more greed to fuel itself. My brother was the soldier, he is the soldier, but he's in custody. He can't exactly pawn off a few tips to the kid sister that's destroying planets, now can he?

[His mandibles flicker in a grin at her actions before he sobers up at her words. Garrus studies her for a moment.]

If you're sure, I can do this. Not gonna be easy. Then again. CDC isn't easy.

[He empties his own cup before setting it down.]

Discipline, focus, dedication, willpower, that's what it takes to be a soldier. That's what we'll work on. And if you're serious, we're heading to the Observation Deck where you're going to tell me how many laps you can run of it, and then you're going to do that plus two.

[Garrus pushes himself up before holding out a hand to her.]

Not gonna take it easy on you. Turians start from the age of three, so you've got a lot of ground to make up.

No, I'm not sure, but it doesn't really matter. All I'm sure of is that I gotta get there faster.

[She clicks her tongue as she takes his hand.]

Man, Erik, Clint, you... you're all just a bunch of threats huh?

[Hands on her hips, she sighs heavily.]

If you guys are gonna run me into the ground, you better know I don't die so easily. I'm stubborn as shit.

You better be, Talbot. Because I don't like friends dying on me, and you've been one for a while now.

[Garrus tilts his head toward the hallway and starts walking.]

So. How many laps are you gonna be running? And what do your other threats have you working on?

[There's amusement in his voice at the last part. He likes the nickname, and it's good to know what she's already doing so they don't overlap or clash.]

[Her shoulders are slumped, a clear marker of her exhaustion, but still, she soldiers on, following as best as she can.]

I don't know, four? I can top four after a blackout. And my other threats... [She rolls her eyes, thinking, twisting her lips.] Erik's got me working on my control and improving my fire. Clint's teaching me how to use the bow. Oh! Athos has got me using the rapier. Jack shows me how to use the rifle better when he can. So you know. Basic stuff.

[Four is a low number, but coming out of the black box means it's acceptable. There's no point in running her into the ground. This is to build her up, not break her.]

I can teach you other guns, too. Been teaching a few, and it's my area of expertise. I'm a sniper.

[And arguably one of the best shots in his galaxy, even though he doesn't go around advertising that. Much.]

Fitness is gonna help a lot too. Sounds like between all of us you're gonna have plenty on your hands, but we'll get you there.

[That is totally her making a finger gun and going pew!]

Garrus Vakarian, killer elite.

[Her expression grows somber.]

I know I've got a lot to do. But I know what I'm getting myself into. I know I probably should've gotten in with Aeryn and whatever fitness club they're doing but I think this will be better for me. [She scrubs a hand down her face.] Besides, I don't think anyone there can do the same like what Erik can do for me, or like Clint or like you.

It's not as individualized, no. It's a boot camp. A basic strength-and-combat training program that turns out decent soldiers in general, but it's not gonna build completely to each person's strength. It's good for a bunch of people.

[But he'll do one-on-one when he can, which thankfully is pretty often. Garrus looks over at her, mandibles close to his face.]

You know I am a killer, yeah? Never civilians. Never innocents. But there are a lot of people dead by my gun, my hands. And they deserved it.

I know. My brother was a killer, too. I don't like to think about it too much.

[A pause, thoughtful.]

Does it ever get easier? The killing?

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