Scene #8023: Pet Detective (Pet Detection)

Owner	Pose
Friz	Grit: Hate this. Hate this. Find a cave and sleep. Savvy: Stop, oh my god. We have a job. Grit: Cold. Moxie: I think we can stay warm if we keep moving! But I'm getting tired... Dirt: Hey, FYI, hands are saying they only 50% exist right now. Savvy: We'd be stopping in the middle of nowhere. We're gonna be done soon anyway. Grit: Don't care. It's cold. Moxie: Can we... Savvy: FINE. Stopping to make a camp, Friz sets out the Space Heater (a strange high-tech column of heat-emitting rippling surfaces), sits on a nearby rock, and rubs her hands together, holding the palms out to it. She's got an extra jacket over the top of her usual jacket, a ratty old ushanka, some snow boots, and slightly thicker pants, but she's more used to space than the cold. She takes a minute to pull out a heavy, hand-drawn map, where she's been tracking the movement of unusual mutant animals for the Paladins...
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	Thud. Thud. Thud. A towering, menacing silhouette approaches. Easily clearing seven feet tall, the figure's shape is made all the more imposing for the angular lines of heavy machined plate--and for the massive bearded axe, its blade easily spanning the size of the average human torso. A cloak blows in the icy wind, as the figure's tusked bucket helm regards Friz with disconcerting silence. Thud. Thud. Thud. The glow of the space heater reveals colors, contours. Green machined plate, a massive exoskeletal harness overtop. A billowing cloak of rye grass and hyacinths, woven together. The great axe is lowered from his shoulder, its monomolecular edge glowing a soft green. Friz is reflected, distorted in a pitiless black t-visor. Without a word, he takes a seat near the heater, allowing the oppressive silence to continue, all the while staring at her.
Friz	Dirt: LOUD SOUND. LOUD SOUND! MOXIE, WAKE UP!! Moxie: AUGH!! GUN, HAND ON GUN. One hand rushes to the revolver, and Friz whirls around, eyes wide under her frosted glasses. But something yells in her ear: "Woah kid, person, I'm seeing a guy over there!" Dirt: Yeah, angular shapes. Savvy: That's a humanoid, looks like armor too. Grit: Probably not the dangerous stuff out here. We'll be okay. Then the hand falls away from it. She pushes those round lenses up, staring at him when he takes a seat. After a long, awkward silence, she takes a deep breath and says... Grit: Scared the crap out of me for a second. Dirt: You're not one of the wolves, the... Savvy: Yaga, right, obviously not. Savvy: Are you... "...out here helping with their hunts too?" She concludes, taking her seat uneasily again, as she starts unfolding that map. "You remind me of some of those Holy Solar Order guys. Well, heat's free, I guess, if you wanna share it." The invisible phantom presence near her drifts, circling around the fire, trying to judge the visitor and assess their mood and intent.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Verily," says Bercilak, with gravelly neutrality, when asked if he's assisting with hunts. There is a singular nod given to Friz, when she welcomes him to share the heat. The armor looks far in advance of his archaic means of speech--there are definitely cooling vents in a few places. "And gramercy thereof," he adds in thanks. Scoping him out, Rogers can guess a few things from his body language--that's what's left, when your face is covered by a full helmet like his. First, that he's making a concerted effort to do exactly the same thing: get a read on Friz, without giving much of his own intentions away. Second, that while he is currently not interested in so doing, this man is capable of tremendous violence. And finally, his emotional state--that stilted, awkward silence he's willfully imposing on the conversation is an effort to shift the focus from himself to Friz; it isn't outright hostility, but rather, an attempt to determine if any is necessary.
Friz	"Pull it back. Big guy won't hurt you if you don't hurt him, kid." A voice in her ear. "Just see what he's seen. Figure the guy knows tracks, see." Grit: Alright, breath un-hold. No alert. Moxie: He's been traveling a lot too. Dirt: Probably seen some stuff. Maybe we could ask? Savvy: What we should do is introduce ourselves. "'Friz.'" She says. "You can call me Friz. Galaxy's greatest detective! Don't suppose you've kept track of any weirder tracks around here? I'm not really any good with killing animals, but I'm trying to trace dens for the Yaga population-control stuff." She shows her heavily-annotated map. "This is really stretching my old pet-detective experience. Really rusty..." She laughs a bit sheepishly, trying to clear some of the frost off her glasses for a second. Without any warning, the Space Heater turns up just a little to a more relaxing temperature as a ghostly hand adjusts its settings, only briefly preceded by a coldless spectral chill. Friz doesn't express it at all. Her posture seems cautious but trusting, anxious but motivated. And always a little conflicted, but less willing to be violent. Grit: I didn't like those thuds. We're fine, but I'm keeping some of the adrenaline up in case of those mutants. Savvy: Well that's rude, so don't. Grit: I'm gonna. Dirt: Look, he's looking at us. We don't want to look weird. Grit: Don't care. Savvy: You're always so difficult about this.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Bercilak de Hautdesert. So als the Green Knight." He reaches out with a hand, for a firm handshake. If he splayed out his fingers, he could likely enclose her head within--but his shake, however firm it is, is gentle. He notices the chill, unable to quite articulate the ways in which it's different from earthly cold, but clearly looking for some visible sign of its passing. Taking the map, he studies it silently. "Yea," he says, now with something like warmth in his voice. Evidently, he approves of something here. "I am abled of ihuntinge." "The manere of swich shalt be differenced, dependinge upon the kynde of beste thou shalt ihunte. Illeoqs," he says, a thickly armored finger tapping gently upon a particular spot. "The bestes which ihunte hither, shalt not idwell thire, but shalt in stede mark thire terroire, upon tres and bushels."
Friz	Savvy: Hey, Dirt, you okay over there? Dirt: Yeah, all good. Savvy: Okay, well, you're sending me words that aren't words. Dirt: I'm giving you what I've got from the ears, chief. Savvy: This... okay. I'll process. He's Bercilak de Hautdesert, he's the Green Knight, he's got the skills for a hunt... Grit: Shake the hand. Moxie: On it! She shakes firmly. "Yeah, figured you might! You kinda look like that." Little bit awed at the size of those hands. Then she spends a little time processing this. Moxie: Okay, what do we got. Savvy: I'm working. Moxie: Will it help if I do some brow-furrowing and lip-pursing and rub the forehead a little? I can do that. Savvy: It actually won't. Moxie: I'm gonna do it. Savvy: Stop, it's rude. Moxie: Too late. She tries to decode what he says, slowly, patiently... "Depending on... oh, yeah, I've got a couple mutant species (kind of a contradiction?) I'm looking for, the..." She's rattling things off. While she does, she struggles with something... "Okay, so the ones hunting here, here, and here (really didn't want to go into mutant hunting grounds (I only have stun rounds and all), I appreciate it), they have dens over here, and..." She's taking dedicated notes now. Scouring the environment for visible signs of the passage of the mysterious influence finds little. The most one might find is a small flicker when the heater's exposed main circuit gets used to light the ghost of a cigarette, where one might almost see the appearance of a translucent hand as the machinery flickers briefly. This detective appears to be haunted.
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Thou'rt not alon," Bercilak notes impassively, with a sweeping gesture of his hand towards the faint, ephemeral suggestion of a hand. He doesn't seem too bothered by it. Perhaps he's accustomed to the idea? He otherwise nods along with each species Friz notes, supporting her hypothesis with additional pieces of information--how one might extrapolate the presence of a den based on marking spots, the various different means of marking and the purpose of each. "Wherefore dost thou ihunt theim bestes?" he asks. "For resons scolastik?" He doesn't bother asking if she's doing it for fun, or for sustenance, given the fact that she admitted to using stun rounds.
Friz	Grit: First one to notice. Savvy: Well, hopefully the last! "Huh? Ahh-- dangit, what gave it away?" She scratches at her forehead nervously. "I've got a... situation, sorry. He's helping out. Don't think he knows much about why it's happening either, though... 'Rogers'. He's Rogers, Detective Rogers. He won't be talking much, haha..." She shifts her topic. Why's she hunting these beasts? "Oh! Well, I work for the Paladins, and there's a Paladin running this territory. Just part of the job! I guess the reason for this one job is... well, I like solving cases. I haven't really done animal detective work in a really long time... you know, pretty sure I was, what, nine years old? Ten years old? Definitely not any older than ten when I took my final pet detective case. It's nostalgic, in a way. Not a lot of animals where I work now... I like going back to the basics sometimes. What about you?"
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"Thire art mani swich spirits, wher I biliven," answers Bercilak. "Al be that thei may be espied with the naked eie, usalli. I espied a liti glimeringe, I trow," he offers by way of explanation with a shrug. He's no expert, and seems to think it was more Rogers being relaxed that 'gave it away,' than any knowledge on his own part. Given the answer to his question, Bercilak nods. The haft of his axe is driven into the ground forcefully enough for Friz to feel it, but it's not a hostile gesture. Rather, it's just to keep the weapon someplace where it isn't lying in the snow, and to free his hands. That tusked bucket helm is removed, revealing his fern green visage. Reaching up with an armored hand, Bercilak brushes the locks of his pine-colored undercut mohawk aside. His irises are an alarming shade of red, but the expression within them is certainly closer to the warmer, rather than the more violent aspect of 'sanguine.' The helmet is eaten away by a tide of blue light, a spectacle which passes by the Green Knight with no alarm on his part. "A fin reson to ihunte, and a lambish huntre thou art." 'Lambish' is uttered with something like approval. With a glance towards her heater, he adds, "'Tis not alon thy devyse which iwarms me." Asked after his own reasons, Bercilak gives his answer. "Al manere of huntinge is biloven to me--lambish and savage unk bothe. Ak thire art ivels which idwell in the hertes of hunters as licli as ani other man." If his calm smile is any indication, he doesn't seem to think there's any of that in Friz. "So als," he continues, "One may ihunte necligentli--and forthy astrue wights bisideforth thy prei." He chuckles, a rumbling noise, as snow falls and melts upon his hair in the warmth of the heater. "That bisideforth, I am muchli biloven of fraisting mineself ayenst wasternne, wher-sum-ever I shalt ifinde hit."
Friz	Dirt: Wow, "green knight" was pretty literal. Savvy: We're not gonna comment on someone's skin condition. Dirt: He did first. Savvy: Fair. Grit: He's Christmas-colored. That's a full-body change. Savvy: We're definitely not saying that. "Needed some company? It's, haha, I guess I haven't had any alone-time in a while, but I guess I can see that." She waits, trying to interpret the further stuff. Moxie: Should I be cleaning the ears out...? Dirt: No, this is just how it is. Moxie: Doing it anyway, sorry. Grit: I get the idea. Gentle or savage hunting. And... he likes testing himself against wilderness. Savvy: There's no way the gut feelings are getting this. Grit: Take it or leave it. Savvy: Fine. "Yeah, I've always been more gentle about these things... Just doesn't seem right to be brutal with animals, even if the local ecosystem needs some handling. Sounds like you're having a pretty good time out here in the cold though, if you like the wilderness. Not too much development aside from the, uh. Castle, I guess." She rambles. "Speaking of that, I should head back soon. Just a couple more spots to check, now that you helped with my coverage, and I'm getting cold." She offers her hand for the second of the shakes today. "Good meeting you, Bercilak."
Rubi-Kan Vagrants	"God imetinge thou so als," he says, standing up to take the handshake. He squeezes, however, his brow furrowing, before he releases her hand. "I profren thee a covenant--kepe lambish and un-corrumped thy herte. Not alon shalt the wasternne be thy frend, but the bestes which lif withinne shalt brest thy armer not, ne the wepens of men." If she accepts, she'll find it much easier to remember Bercilak's survival advice, and find that it's much more difficult for mutants (or anyone, really) to effectively harm her. Whether she accepts or not, his farewell is possessed of all the warmth he'd previously withheld. The last of his face vanishes behind his rapidly reconstructing helmet, and he wrenches the axe from the earth. A majestic pine sprouts from the spot, serving as a memento of their meeting. Marching off into the wilderness, the Green Knight disappears much like he'd appeared, his figure gradually losing distinction and color until it blends into the snowy white expanse.
Friz	Grit: We should be staying uncorrupted. Because... Savvy: Yes? Grit: Losing track. It's cold. Savvy: Sigh. Moxie, please, I kind of need this one. Moxie: I suppose so... Friz rubs her own face with her gloved hands. Residual snow spreads, shocking her system with cold. Grit: Fuck. Don't do that. Savvy: What's he saying? Grit: Don't let the world corrupt the gentleness out of us. And if we do that, the wilderness will be more friendly, and the beasts in it and people in it will be too. Savvy: Well if that's the case, then... "...I'll accept." She nods. "I'm here to help in the first place, and I don't plan to change that." One last firm little shake before she steps back to let him march off. Thud thud thudding off into the wilderness... Alright. Time to focus. She grabs the map, pulls out a heavy thermos of coffee and downs a huge amount of it, and then deactivates and retrieves her space heater, before heading out!