Scene #8262: Transit Time

Owner	Pose
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	Torneld Hall. Afternoon, sunny, cold. The building is large, but not that large; from decades past, but not many. The college town it's contained within remains in its ever-constant state of bustle, students and other foot traffic filing through pedestrian avenues like blood through veins. Worn brick and newly-renovated windows overlook a staff parking lot, with a few compact vehicles in reserved spots, a moped parked illegally... ...and a vessel, utterly still in the air, taking up the space a foot above five open spots. A convergence of overlapping geometry and bristling communication spires, it gives an impression of alien hostility, an attempt to avert future generations from a nuclear waste disposal site. Devices hum with static as they draw near, impossibly complex carrier tones gently surging, like waves on a shore. Everything about it feels wrong, a terrible contrast to the trees and concrete of its surroundings. A parking pass is attached to the open cargo bay door. Cabling and racks of miscellaneous, outdated electronics are set on the asphalt outside of the ship. Some are still connected to wires that snake back into the open door, screens active and displaying inane readouts in an ever-present blue. There's a clunk, and DRYCLEAN hops down from the door before setting a VHS player on one of the racks. They've got their usual black leather coat, but have opted for a servicable blue sweater and long grey skirt underneath. A two-finger salute is given to those who have shown up early, and they adjust their antennae jacket. "Hey there folks, glad you could make it, ha ha. Couldn't co-opt anyone else, bit too cold out for helpin' with movin' on a short notice, y'know?" They give a beckoning wave and walk over to a few large cardboard boxes sitting on the sidewalk next to the hall's entrance. Looks like a minifridge, microwave, other standards for a dorm-level cooking setup. It's recognizable at a glance that these were not exactly... expensive acquisitions. DRYCLEAN slaps a hand on top of the minifridge box. "So, points of order. Gotta get all this loaded into the KEYHOLE, wirin' shouldn't be an issue though. Space'll be the tricky part. I ain't exactly runnin' a cruise vessel, so here's hopin' you really like th'folks that'll be taggin' along, ha ha."
Remee Halcyon	Enter Remee. "... Ah... could I order you some better equipment, DRYCLEAN?" she offers, after examining the boxes. "Like, it wouldn't be any bigger, but it'd be a bit nicer?" She herself has a backpack presumably filled with enough food for herself, in addition to her usual gear bag. She's also carrying a vacuum-sealed bag of some sort of fabric under one arm. "At least like, a proper microwave? One with a turntable and cooking sensor, maybe?"
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	What DRYCLEAN emotes in response is definitely supposed to be a shrug. There isn't quite enough... shoulder, though. They run a hand along the corner of the fridge's box. "Hey, suit yourself, ha ha. If it'll deliver in the next hour or two, then I ain't complainin'. Got folks scouted who'd appreciate takin' these off my hands, just in case somethin' like this happened, y'know?"
Ishirou	Ishirou is here because he's very curious, and not at all afraid to stick his head into info hazards to learn about them...until at least he's afraid at the end of learning about them. When the ship arrives he just can't help himself. All of his scanners go, trying to glean information about the ship from every angle. What does it look like when it's looked through other means of vision? Why does it feel wrong to look at it? What is it made out of? Simply put, Ishirou puts everything forward first to try and record, then to process and understand. "Oh, I guess...I could help coordinate setting up.." he says, using this as the excuse to scan everything.
Remee Halcyon	Remee pulls out her cell phone and dials. "Express order," she barks into it (not literally barking). "Microwave, a fridge, and..." She considers. "Pick out a foldable kitchen island, yeah. You know what I'm talking about? Yeah. Get it all couriered to my position. Usual tip. Thanks." She hangs up. "It should all be here within half an hour," she tells Dryclean. "I just..." She nudges one of the boxes. "Would like the food situation to not fail out on us halfway through the trip, right? And we're ending up trying to reheat tv dinners using fire magic, or whatever." "Oh hey Ishirou," she adds. "Sorry I couldn't make it to your party. I had a deer picked out for it and everything."
AME	AME waves enthusiastically as she arrives. She's got a big backpack and something that looks vaguely like an axe both strapped to her back, the weight of neither seeming to bother her. "Hey! I figured I would, um, show up, even though I have my own shuttle- just to say hi to people! And, also because the shroud is throwing up again, so... using it kinda scares me." She leans forward, a little disappointedly or apologetically. But then perks back up again. "So we just move this stuff onto the ship?"
Wisconsin	Wisconsin.... is not here today. In her place, though is a peppy grey haired girl, roughly the same height as Ishirou, in a rather stylish overcoat and short tunic. She is carrying a tablet, a small cooler, and a messenger bag. "Ahoy! I'm Denver, Knight of the Seas, and it's nice to meet you all!" She smiles up at Dryclean, and then looks to... Remee and Ame. Both of them get cheery waves. Ishirou, gets a careful look, and then she holds out her fist, in greetings. "You must be the Ishii kid that Wisky was talkin' about." Is she waiting for a bro fist in return? Will Ishirou leave her hanging?
Father Berislav	Standing out among the college students is a man who might look at home among them, were it not for the black cassock and roman collar. Medium length white hair, tied back in a ponytail, frames a round face with a hint of boyishness still in it. Silver eyes regard their surroundings with warmth, as a faint smile rests below a button nose. He is on his way to the parking lot, a small leather satchel slung over one shoulder. The imposing vessel is approached with all the same comfort and ease as the campus, greeting Dryclean with a small wave. "Hello, Dryclean," he smiles. "I've brought a few things 'for the road,' since I'd rather not access subspace while in transit. They shouldn't take up too much room," he says, patting the satchel, "And loading them can wait until your things are packed away. Now..." Slipping the satchel off from his shoulder, "If you'd be so kind as to let me know where you'd like them?" He starts with the largest and heaviest first--and hefts it, lifting with his legs, as if his slight frame and bookish mien were mere suggestions.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	Dark. Outside the visual-spectrum band, the vessel has notably diminished reflection and emission, though there's a notable... delay before it catches up to the sweeping analysis. It almost seems like it's fighting against being perceived with anything past standard senses. Ishirou, though, is faster than it. The most pressing feature of the ship is how mundane it is, at first glance. External plating is just a steel alloy, though the arrangement of the panels is so strange yet hyperspecific that it feels far more intentional than just aesthetics; antennae are truly just normal antennae, all hooked up in careful geometric arrays; though the mounting of the large set of communications lasers is non-standard, the tech isn't anything particularily exciting. The issue is in the gaps. A thorough scan shows that there isn't anything except for dense masses of communication equipment, a large (and relatively clear) cargo bay, a small reactor running off a volatile material that doesn't match anything in Ishirou's databases, some thrusters fuelled by the same material, and some empty doorframes. No direct control equipment; no magical readings; nothing that would scream "this is a weird FTL drive". It hovers. There's a few holes in the view indicating there's probably more to be seen, but it's hard to get a good scan while it's still pushing back.
Ishirou	Ishirou, slightly distracted, waves at AME. "Gimme a second I am calculating optimal efficiency for it..." Also nearby to him is a small flying box with arms. It hovers near Ishirou. "Hi Remee, and it's fine! If you're going to be on the ship I'll make something for you here. I had to think of Rita's dietary needs too, so I got everything together to make what I did for her," and the other stuff is common meat, which Remee should like! The little ship girl walks up and offers a dab. Ishirou isn't sure what to make of it at first, but then sloooowly makes a fist and returns the dab. He can't let her down, it's impossible. "Uh, yeah that's my name...I don't think I know Denver very well." He also provides Father Berislav a wave, though does not know the man at all. "I can calculate efficient storage in a moment.." Ishirou really can't help himself. This is so new to him, and the desire to understand the ship and how it works is too tantalizing. He DOES, however, has enough to start directing traffic...and he pauses forcing the issue for now. "Dryclean, is it alright if I start learning more about the ship? It's pushing back in places, so I figured I should at least ask either you or it...and it'd be silly if I just started talking to the ship without knowing if it's an entity or not."
Remee Halcyon	Remee said half an hour. In reality, it's less than 20 minutes before a delivery truck pulls up and drops off several much newer boxes. "Okay, so let's get things installed on your ship, right?" says Remee, setting her things to one side and then doing some quick stretches. "Gotta get limbered up first, and it's a bit easier if I use the smaller muscles..." There's no comedic sound effect, or weird body horror transitional phases (unless one were to be watching with a slow-mo camera). There's just human Remee there one second, and then an eight foot tall wolf thing the next (albeit one that's still recognizable as Remee.) "Okay!" she says, in a considerably rougher tone of voice. "What goes where?" she asks as she goes to heft one of the heavy boxes.
Wisconsin	DAB COMPLETE. Denver pumps her fist, and then looks around at all the effort packing and unpacking and moving stuff and looks a little embarassed that she didn't jump on all of this already. Also Giant Werewolf. "WOAH! HECK! OKAY. I hope you're not gonna be in the ship like that, lady!" She's a direct thing, Denver. She shuffles a few steps away from Remee, and then over to Father Berislav and Dryclean himself... "Okay I'm no fancy techie or anything, what can I be doin' to help here?" She looks around for a box or something to carry right away, if asked.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	In between other greetings, DRYCLEAN extends a handshake to Denver and Berislav in turn. "Good t'meet you folks. Name's DRYCLEAN-SIGINT, though you knew that .......LAUNDROMAT-OPERATIVE already, ha ha. Toss whatever y'need in the bay, I ain't got much set up past a table. Fridge can go anywhere, jus' grab any cable from the ceilin' and it'll be an extension cord with th'right socket." They direct the people loading equipment into the open bay door. There's nearly two feet of clearance, though that is obviously not much of an issue for these Elites. The inside of the bay is slightly strange. The walls and floor are that same shade of grey that the external plating has, but the ceiling is entirely comprised of overlapping cabling and connectors; the wires attached to the racks outside appear to originate from there. It's about the size of a dorm room, with a moderately large crimson rug taking up about half of it. A folding table and some chairs are set up against a wall, but there's nothing else of note in the room itself. The far wall has two doorframes, though there isn't an actual door; the inside is just that same flat metal, like the frames were just stuck on. Smells like air freshener in here. As things are being loaded, they stop for a second, reach up, and swivel their primary monitor to face AME. "Good t'not chance the shroud if it ain't workin' right, ha ha. Need me t'swing by and make sure that ain't gonna do anythin' bad?" Ishirou, however, receives the gaze of their secondary. "Well, pal, I gotta keep some dramatic tension, ha ha. Can't let y'scan me all the way just yet. Would ruin th'excitement of seein' everythin' in action, y'know?"
Remee Halcyon	"Oh, no, don't worry. I come in travel size too," says the giant werewolf, as she hoists the new fridge into the right spot.
Ishirou	Ishirou frowns at Laundromat, BUT, he relents with a sigh. "Alright, alright. If you're going to let me see things as they run then I'll be patient.." a pause, "For now," Though it sounds less menacing coming from him and more...adorable. He does, however, get back to helping people organize where things go, trying to make as much space as possible. This...does have the added side effect of having everything but the kitchen in weird locations. The storage is now the seats. The seats are now placed outside because they took up too much room.
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer has heard of the goings-on and the upcoming trip, and so she emerges into the gathering space, walking steadily across the asphalt with her gaze turned skyward, taking in that imposing view of the strange ship with growing uncertainty. She has seen a few spaceships so far, but none like this. Remee's sudden transformation, though, makes ALL of of Shimmer's neck-hairs stand on end and forces a worried hiss from her lips as she backpedals a step to take in the situation again. Thankfully she relaxes a moment later, seeing that this form is no threat to anyone... Her nose twitches a few times the next moment... and gaze swivels to spot Ishirou. Finally, someone whe at least recognizes. Nervously the warrior makes her way over, stopping just ten feet behind him. "Are you coming on this trip too, Ishirou?"
AME	"Oh! That'd be nice, thank you," AME says in response to DRYCLEAN. She's now working on hauling things onto the ship. The things she moves look just a little bit too heavy for her, but she seems just fine. Maybe robots are just built different.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	Loading progresses. The kitchenette practically perfectly fits in the area the carpet doesn't cover. Convenient. True to their word, despite the lack of plugs, the first cable grabbed from the mass at the top always ends up being a correct connector for the appliances. The feeling of "bizarre family gathering" only increases with more and more juxtaposition between the slightly dreary decor, very nice kitchen, and folding table, which has been pushed nearly out of the room. It certainly no longer would be described as a "cargo bay", though, so these efforts have been an overall success. DRYCLEAN has already exited the bay and walked right up to Ishirou, and then by extension Shimmer, when she arrives. Another handshake is profferred. "Miss Shimmer. Pleasure t'meet you in-person, then, ha ha."
Remee Halcyon	Remee finishes putting heavy boxes where heavy boxes need to go. She leaves hooking everything up to someone else. "Alright, that's done with," she says, suddenly human again. "And with that..." She gets her personal possessions, including the sealed bag of fabric she'd been carrying with her. That, when unsealed and allowed to return to its proper shape, turns out to be a comfy dog bed. "There we go, I'll just set this up right over... here," she says, picking out a corner and dropping the bed on the floor there... ... and then a moment later, Wolf Remee's curling up in it. "There we go, travel size, just like I said."
Wisconsin	For her part... Denver seems to be right at home in the mess and the clutter and the FULLY OPTIMIZED FOR SPACE space. Let it never be said that the dorms back in New York City were ever neatly organized either. She finds herself a spot on a box or crate, sits, and takes up as little room as she can, helpfully swinging her legs up to make the Light Cruiser a Petite Packet. Though she does giggle a bit at Ishirou and Dryclean and AME. "...Weird, how three different world's ideas of how to build robots turned out in similar ways." A rub of the bridge of her nose. "I mean, vaguely like the people who live there." A beat. "FOr the robots that have to interact with the people all the time, at least."
AME	She sits on the floor, bag and axe(?) beside her, hugging her knees- she manages to make this look natural despite her digitigrade leg construction. AME giggles. "We don't get a lot of the, ah, organic-mimic robots back where we're from. I keep getting surprised to learn people out here are synthetic! It must be so expensive to get a chassis like that?" She tilts her head, bubbly-liquid monitor display responding with mimicked physics.
Wisconsin	"Oh gosh, you have no idea." Denver gushes a little bit at Ame, scooting over to the other girl, and hopping to closer spot. She holds out her arm, human-like as it was, and lets the fellow synth touch and feel. "Eagle Union and the other nations had to reverse engineer alien invaders to make us. And our cores are still pretty rare to come by."
Father Berislav	"Goodness," notes Berislav upon entering into the bay, after a brief look upwards. The equipment is set down with a mind for space and efficiency, sliding it so that it's flush with a wall and near an overhead connector--and, of course, going along with any suggestions Ishirou might have. He also introduces himself to Denver, AME, and Ishirou, simply as 'Father Waters Berislav.' "Dryclean, I must say, I'm impressed with the spacing and security you've maintained with the cables and connectors overhead. What did you use to sheath them, if you don't mind my asking?"
Ishirou	Ishirou regards Sleek after a moment of finally finishing up his optimization. "Oh hey, Hi!" he says easily enough, eying Dryclean to the side. What were they really here for again? Something about dangerous wildlife. He was here for uh...something else. "Yeah, I'm coming on the trip. More for cataloging and research though." AME makes a comment about the chassis, so Ishirou speaks up as he seems to bring nothing with him. Occasionally he seems to reach into a strange space behind him, or POD grabs something for him. It's not magic, just a dimensional pocket for holding items. That explains where HIS carry-on things are. "So Indus is...well was...well.." he pauses trying to think of a nice way to say what he's about to say, then realizes he can't. "Vain. Everything in Indus culture is about aesthetics...including the androids. There's a reason why humans referred to us as 'Magical Dolls'. As you can imagine...physically being exactly like a human, and then being told you're not, causes some..." he motions to himself, "Issues." Oddly, he's already behind the cooking station in the kitchen. "Anyone has any requests..? I already know what I'm cooking for Remee.." he says, and is already working on /that/ but cutting up thin slices of meat. This meat is also being seasoned, and anyone who can ID the spices knows they're mostly Korean in nature.
Wisconsin	Denver looks over her shoulder at Ishirou and giggles. "I can't speak for our world, but all of the Ships that get called up out of the Cubes end up as cute ladies, so... take for that what you will~" The little knight giggles madly.
Ishirou	"Well, if you consider that ships are usually refered to as female..." Ishirou shrugs.
AME	AME seemingly thinks on this for a bit. "Hm. Most of the time, people getting chassis like that, um- it's for when they lose their original, organic, bodies. Prosthetics. But even most of the people who do-" she twirls a strand of wig- "still can't really afford that kind of thing."
Wisconsin	Also when the scanner robots among the group turn their sensors on Denver... they clearly are getting discongruent readouts. Though she appears to be flesh and blood and upright and made out of anthropomorphic bits, they ALSO get readings like she's clearly a ship. She's got a turbine core, a citadel, bulkheads and armor, a conning tower, cannons, all of it.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	The bay door closes partly as DRYCLEAN steps back in, surveying everything for a moment before turning to Berislav. "Zipties, mostly." Laugh track. "I jest. Cables up there work similar t'these-" The cabling comprising their mass undulate, ever so slightly, though they also point at their neck-trunk for emphasis. "-so they're easier t'find parts for. Hydraulics and some right specific geometry keep em' static, moderately prehensile. Makes for easy management when I ain't gotta use my hands t'move them around, y'know? Don't puncture the things, ha ha." Though the room is now somewhat cramped, or more politely describable as cozy, they still find room to pull out a folding chair and set up facing the bay door. They seem expectant, hands tapping along forearms. An idle adjustment is made to a dial on their secondary monitor. Another.
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer's seen a few robots, but the appearance of Dryclean gets her to tilt her head this way and then that, shifting on her feet to look at him from a few different angles. She cclearly has no idea what to make of someone who is this different from what she's used to. "H-...hello. Likewise!" She's hesitant at first, but does reach out to shake. It's clear though that this isn't really a thing of her culture... or what of her home culture she's absorbed. Just a thing that she's seen people around here do. Awkward handshake later she puts both hands behind her back, tails swishing in light consternation. But hearing Ishirou explaining things causes her to walk up and put a hand on his shoulder for a gentle comforting squeeze. "We have too much in common." She remarks simply.
Remee Halcyon	"Yeah, food!" says Remee from the floor. She doesn't need to see Ishirou cooking, she's getting a much better play by play through her nose. "Is that really the reason all the ship people are female? I mean, if I started calling a boat something like the Ocean Prince, would it be a guy instead?"
Ishirou	Ishirou stares at Sleek, "Uh...we do?" he asks. Right now, he's leaning over a counter and slowly stringing the meat together into a ball. Each part was seasoned with his scan-enhanced eyes. He looks up now and again, before focusing back on his job. "I dunno, I'm not the expert in nautical matters," Ishirou admits. Though his gaze looks over towards Denver once or twice. "I can see you're definitely built different than the other ship girls I'm familar with..do...you have issues with Abyssals too?"
Veve Joueur	Veve arrives by taxi, taking a solid minute to fully exit it, stopping to talk with the driver after each step of opening the door, getting out, and pulling out her messenger bag for luggage. She slings it over her shoulder, and walks towards the group with oil-smooth fluidity in joints, the confidence of her steps dimmed by the way each one shrinks as she gets closer. Veve is wearing a black shirt with sleeves cut into latticed ribbons over her doll-jointed arms, over which is her patch-covered vest. Her tall, pink-laced boots scuff against the asphalt as she slows down, and she gives a light wave to the assembled elites. Ishirou being the only one she knows, she gravitates towards him, catching the tail end of his explanation about Indus. "Hello, Ishirou! Someday I'd like to hear more about your home, it seems like each of our respective dolls were created similarly and treated far too differently." To everyone else, she gives a shallow curtsy, introducing herself as "Dr. Ezili Manach's contracted combat doll, Veve Joueur, pleased to meet your acquaintance". At this distance, an audible buzzing of static radiates from her body, something she seems to notice and shuffle uncomfortably at. From Dryclean's perspective, her entire body acts as a radio, channeling both their surveillance and enormous quantities of other information through it.
Sleek Shimmer	"Yes. Magical Dolls, you said. Made to look human because your keepers like it that way. And they make you do all the dirty work for them." Shimmer points out. Though the very next moment her nose starts twitching and she leeeeans forward over the counter to get a bigger whiff... then straightens out. "Ooooooh."
Ishirou	"Okay, and how does that make us alike?" Ishirou asks.
Sleek Shimmer	Sleek Shimmer blinks a few times at the question. "How... how DOESN'T it?" She retorts almost instantly.
AME	AME, notably, flinches very subtly, mid-wave, when Veve starts emitting static. Cheerful posture remains.
Ishirou	Ishirou tilts forward, you almost hear the sound of heavy machinery listing forward. "You're not a android, you weren't made to dress up like them and then told you can't be a human, and you have no emotions."
Sleek Shimmer	The foxgirl folds her arms, clearly a little ruffled. "It's not the same, but is it really so different? We both know what it's like to live under lords who treat you poorly because of what you are. Even if they made you what you are."
Veve Joueur	Veve looks to Ishirou, still standing stock upright and clutching her bag to her hip awkwardly. "You were made to dress like them? What for?" Fog filters out of the vents in her arms, then dissipates, and the sound of static dims. She smiles at AME apologetically. Mirroring this decrease in volume for the rest of the listeners, the data that DRYCLEAN senses pouring out of her spikes in one particular direction. Music, a song they could tune into if they wanted to, and a painful, harsh buzzing.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	The radio tower has already stood. They stride through the fog towards Veve, every step gaining more and more of a depth in the soundscape, static, feedback, NOISE, THOUGHT- Something complicated teeters on the edge of connecting. Synchronizing. Aligning. All that's needed is an acknowledgement. An uncomfortably long arm extends for a handshake.
Wisconsin	Denver blinks a bit at all the back and forth over the ethics of... existing, and she shrugs a bit, and settles back into her spot, curled up. "I mean... I guess I don't really have that experience, so..." She breathes, and looks to Ishirou. "We /do/ have something like the Abyssals. We call them the Sirens, and those are the Invaders we're trying to fight. They're a bunch of weirdo aliens and are looking to capture parts of our world... So we fight!"
Ishirou	Ishirou is glad to be cooking, right now. It helps take the edge off of this discussion he's having. He takes a breath, and a very unhappy thought crosses his mind. Just a flash of that unhappiness. Those who can read minds can see it. Every time he'd been shackled with the idea that he was defective for having feelings. That he was only kept around for his skills. That he was not human, and that he equated self-worth with humanity. "Please step out of my kitchen," he says, firmly. Instead, he steps out after a moment and walks across the Remee, and sets a dish in front of her. Yukhoe, with a raw egg and sesame seeds on top for flavoring. "Watch out now, it can be a bit spicy," he says warmly again and goes back to cooking. To Veve, he keeps his face neutral, not at her but at the question. He greets her with a smile after he answers at least. "Vanity, because of vanity. They rather have something that looks pretty than actually works efficiently." Denver answers his question next, "Sirens...huh. Aliens...that sounds a bit familiar. Invading aliens or monsters seems to be a common thread.." He pauses, "Oh does anyone want anything? I got a lot to work with here."
Wisconsin	Denver ohs. At the mention of food, Denver pops open her little cooler, and pulls out a bottle of... Well it's blue. And it looks like juice. And it smells sweet. Maybe too sweet. The sort of sweet that organics shouldn't be drinking.
Veve Joueur	"Vanity... ah, I see." Veve sighs in sympathy, closing her eyes. "Tragic that others' vanity would be forced on you, preventing you from developing your own. I hope you can take pride in what you can do now, though." Veve's key whirrs at DRYCLEAN's approach. The inaudible chatter of a dozen voices broadcasting through her all snap to attention when they reach their hand out, an equal number of faint outlines of Veve's hand moving in to reciprocate. Her physical arm, however, hesitates briefly, and her soft smile twitches before reinstating itself. She meets DRYCLEAN's handshake. "Hello, I don't believe we've been introduced, but you would be the organizer of this mission, correct?"
Remee Halcyon	Remee makes a pssh noise. "I can handle spicy. What, do you think I'm some uncultured rich white girl or something?" she says. The wolf sits upon her cushion and takes a big bite. Approximately three moments later, Ishirou has to make a balance check as Remee runs past him into the kitchenette. "WATER."
Ishirou	Ishirou has to make a balance check. Difficulty: Hard. [Failure] Ishirou is knocked backward and out of the kitchen towards someone. Who is it?!
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	There is an emotion like something snapping into place. Relay. Voices in, voices out. Routing. Two bodies route for many, and a nudge routes together. Buzzing through devices, vessels, mind. The noise doesn't try to be heard, now, just listens. Understands. Amplifies. Sync to the music, rhythm and harmony. The static immediately stops playing through Veve's body, and that song instead gently plays through the entire ship, seeming to vibrate from the walls themselves. "Fascinatin'. Name's DRYCLEAN-SIGINT. Hope that didn't feel odd, ha ha." .....DRYCLEAN-SIGINT "That I am. If y'need anythin', just ask, though I ain't exactly the one t'take credit for makin' this whole place so, ah..." They release the handshake and make a sweeping gesture. "Accomadatin'." They are then promptly bowled over by Ishirou colliding with them. It's a weird sight, as their body collapses a little in a way that someone with a skeleton would not. Smooth introduction!
Remee Halcyon	Water. Where's the water. Is there even a water faucet here? "... Oh you've got juice!" "I don't care what flavor, I need something," says Remee as she claws open Denver's cooler and goes to get something out of it.
Veve Joueur	Standing by Ishirou, Veve also has to dodge the uncultured rich white girl, her joints smoothly articulating all at once to step out of the way, reaching out with an arm to catch Ishirou himself.
Ishirou	Ishirou is grabbed by Veve right after he barely touches Dryclean, who is now collapsed. This is normal. He makes a relieved face and is helped back to his feet. "Thanks...phew.." Then to see Remee go for the.. "NO THAT'S NOT FOR CONSUMPTION!"
Remee Halcyon	"I CAN AFFORD IT!" calls Remee as she claws at the cooler. "I just - stupid paws- oh right-" Now with hands, Human Remee pops the cooler open and grabs at the first bottle of whatever she sees, and goes to crack it open...
Wisconsin	Remee comes for the cooler, and Denver squeaks. "Oh, I don't think you want to-" There's a juice pouch in there, and as the Wolfo gets ready to try and drink it, she'll be able to smell the octane through the packet. This is a... well it looks like one of those energy jelly pouches, but it's labeled in bland DoD language: Lubricant, Jellied, High-Grade.
AME	"Ah, if we're all eating, I suppose I could-" AME rustles through her pack and pulls out a tall can of... something ambiguously an energy drink or a soda. It looks about as inhospitable to organic life as Denver's antifreeze, and yet it's marketed for it. Cracking open the can with a metal claw, she says, "I can share it if anyone wa-" and prompty spills it all over herself, startled by the commotion. sticky red soda(?) gets all over her, sticking to her clothes but being wicked away where it lands on her plating through unclear mechanism. Ah, it's all over the floor now, too.
Sleek Shimmer	At the sudden, unexpected cold shoulder, Sleek Shimmer growls and leaps away from Ishirou and DRYCLEAN and the others nearby, a shudder running through her from head to toe. Wild and raw emotions in her eyes... like she's not sure whether to bite him in anger or just run away.
Father Berislav	Berislav chuckles at the remark about zipties. Once everything is in place, he finds a spot for his satchel, someplace sufficiently high off the ground and out of the way of traffic. He takes a seat, wherever there's room, and cracks open a book. A silken bookmark notes his place, and the cover bears an illustration of two men in 19th century period attire, embracing before a small country farmhouse. He's scarcely gotten his reading glasses on, before he looks over the top of the book towards the commotion in the 'kitchen.' "Is everything alright in there?" he asks with genuine concern.
Veve Joueur	Veve's posture softens in relief when the static stops, and her smile becomes more genuine. She doesn't seem to know exactly where to look on DRYCLEAN, or maybe she's just trying to wrap her mind around their wacky body, but her examination is cut short either way by Remee being a white girl. Absentmindedly patting Ishirou's shoulders and smoothing out his ruffled clothes and hair after picking him back up, she keeps her eyes locked on the robot spaghetti on the floor. She startles out of her reverie by AME's accident, and pulls out a cloth from her vest pocket, striding over to her. The cloth dampens seemingly of its own accord, and she looks the robot up and down to see what spots might need wiping. "Oh, oh, are you alright? Did you spill on yourself?"
Ishirou	Well, Ishirou currently is being held by Veve and very distracted by Remee consuming non-wolf consumables. "No Remee, really she's got an unusual pallet..." Also cleaned up and set back down, Ishirou looks around. "Did we pack hand sanitizer.." he asks, POD, who makes an acknowledgement sound.
Remee Halcyon	"This... smells like gasoline... and who names their drink after lubricant..." Remee's nose wrinkles. "Oh, I'm being impolite, just because it smells foreign. I should be more culturally sensitive..." She opens it and downs the whole thing. "Tastes... interesting!" she says, clearly trying to not make a face.
Ishirou	Ishirou places a hand over his face. Preserve him his sanity, because these people were going to kill him.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	DRYCLEAN quickly stands again and brushes themselves off, watching the juice-based chaos unfold, before reaching an arm up into the ceiling's cable mass and pulling out - 409 surface cleaner (this pose is not sponsored). They move to toss it over to AME, before Veve gets to her first, and shrugs and puts it back... somewhere, instead grabbing generic-brand hand sanitizer. "Did you folks not grab, ah, much in the way of drinks? Do we need t'stop by a store or somethin'?" They watch Shimmer. "Now, I ain't intendin' to be insensitive, but if y'folks are gonna be fightin' like this, you really oughta sit down and talk it out before y'lose the chance to be more than thirty feet from each other, ha ha."
Wisconsin	Denver siiiiiiiighs. "That was my dessert, sorry." She huffs and pokes her nose down... and closes her cooler up again.
AME	Still with a half-empty can of soda in hand, AME is briefly too startled, seemingly locked with the indecision necessary to attempt to stop Remee from drinking an entire fucking can of boat drinks, to notice Veve beside her. But then she does. "Ah! Thank you, you're so kind, but, um. I should be fine. That won't get it out of clothes, and where it got on my chassis... well, that's how I drink it anyways, so it's fine?"
Sleek Shimmer	Confronted. Great. Shimmer's shoulders bunch up in growing mixed emotions. Fight or flight flickers on her face and she rapidly grabs her head in her hands in an attempt to calm down. "Trying to be nice to people... people who might understand you... sometimes is like walking over a floor full of knives, blind." She sputters at Dryclean.
Father Berislav	"As for me," says the priest, book folded and momentarily resting in his lap, "I took to the Burger Bastille on the way here, and I brought along some water and rations in my pack. Between that and Mr. Ishirou," he says sunnily, "I think I'll be quite alright--but I certainly don't mind a stop along the way somewhere."
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	DRYCLEAN reachs a hand up to rotate their primary monitor down to look at Shimmer. There's a weight to the static they're currently emanating; the feeling of something larger than simply the monitor gazing upon her. "That's true, pal, but y'can always ask someone for boots and try again. Clear th'air, apologize, ask if there was a misunderstandin'. Otherwise this ain't gonna be a fun trip, y'know?" The monitor flashes a sharp grin on the visualizer. "And ain't nobody want that."
Ishirou	Ishirou doesn't say anything to Sleek, he's already made his request. He's also more than willing to sleep in the kitchen area. Though not in the dead Peter pose. You don't get that, you degenerate. "Yes, I have water and some soda in my Dimensional Pocket, so it's fine. Also, hand wipes and hand sanitizer. But I mean, I just assume you all have your own." He goes back to cooking. Seems like many people don't need to eat traditionally...and the Father had Burgers. Maybe he can just make himself something..? Hmm. He considers what to make.
Remee Halcyon	"Ah - sorry, I'll buy you a new one..." Remee makes her way back over to her bed, and sits and eats more gingerly, instead of wolfing down half the plate in one bite. "It's good, Mr. Ishirou! I just... wasn't ready for it." There's no immediate signs of trouble from having ingested something she really shouldn't have ingested.
Veve Joueur	Veve lowers her arm with a bemused expression. "Ah. Sorry. I'm still learning about all of the Multiverse's... eccentricities. Are you sure you don't want your clothes cleaned up, though? It'll be a long trip." To DRYCLEAN she responds, "Ah, I don't need any sort of drink myself, and I considered bringing some for the rest... but I'm honestly unsure what kind of fluids people tend to drink out here. So far, the majority of people I've seen have been drinking some dark, acidic beverage that stung my face to be near... or," She gestures to Remee and the shipgirl, "Gasoline. So I opted not to bring water."
Kukuru	Somehow, Kukuru didn't oversleep! Actually, she totally did, but it's fine because everyone's still here, and teleporting is good for cheating with time. Hearing that there's going to be a long trip involved, she's unwisely decided to pack days' worth of clothes and toiletries into a suitcase that she's dragging along behind herself instead of keeping it all in the largely unremarkable pockets on her frilly new* sun dress and matching sun hat combo! She vaguely remembers reading something about UV rays being really intense in space, after all. Finding the entrance in some manner that may or may not involve climbing all over the KEYHOLE, she greets the first person she runs into with a hearty hug, then a sing-songy "He-llo, everyone!" to announce her presence. "Did you all remember to bring enough changes of underwear and your toothbrushes? I've got extra~" *They've sat in her closet for a while, but still technically new!
Remee Halcyon	"... Wait, was that actually gasoline?" Remee looks concerned. "Um." "This ship does have a bathroom, right?"
AME	AME waves at Kukuru, fishing a six-pack of soda (with five cans left) out of her bag and setting it on the ground in front of herself.
Wisconsin	Denver huffs. "It wasn't gasoline... it was a polymer-blend lubricant." She perks. "The ration stuff is unflavored, but I prefer the strawberr version."
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	They break away slightly from where they're standing, presence diminishing somewhat, and move to stand halfway out the bay door. "Hey, soda'n gasoline are practically th'two categories, ha ha. I got some last things t'get set, then." They pause, for a moment, then step back inside and back up slightly. They wait for the unstoppable force that is Kukuru to latch onto someone else before the door opens a bit more and they slide outside. Anyone watching would see that there's a few college students who walk up to the boxes of cheap appliances that were initially purchased. DRYCLEAN talks with them for a few minutes, before the students grab the boxes and leave. At this point, someone who looked at DRYCLEAN could conceivably guess that they were standing in the middle of the parking motionless for a few moments just to be away from everything. That would be silly, of course. They're obviously on top of everything, at all moments. Perhaps it's setting up for something else. This reverie is broken by Remee's comment, even though it would be blatantly inaudible from outside. Their voice, in its clipped, terrible cadence, emanates from the internal walls of the KEYHOLE in much the same way as the music has been. "One of those redgates'll have a bathroom. Was waitin' on turnin' it on since the shroud don't like it bein' active when we take off, but obviously duty calls." One of the two doorframes on the wall beeps, before suddenly a door snaps into existence within it. Remee, oddly, would feel an ever-so-slight pulse of ontological manipulation from its activation.
Kukuru	AME, by virtue of greeting her with soda, gets to deal with the bulk of Kukuru's initial affection. Thankfully, it's with just one arm because she hasn't set her stuff down yet. "Thanks, AME~ Oh, but we should be careful with these. I've got wet towels, though!" She gets distracted from actually putting her stuff down to prove the existence of those towels by digging in her pockets some more. DRYCLEAN still gets an affectionate monitor-rubbing in passing, of course. The mention of a bathroom is noted, as is the sudden appearance of a door that Kukuru is mostly certain wasn't there a few seconds ago. If it doesn't make sense, though, she doesn't seem bothered by it for more than a few seconds, either.
Veve Joueur	<J-IC-Scene> AME says, "Oh, it's good for anyone. It's a sweet treat for organics, and a great coolant and hydraulic fluid for synthetics!" <J-IC-Scene> Veve Joueur says, "I suppose, either way that works out?" <J-IC-Scene> Veve Joueur says, "I'll take one, if you don't mind." Veve carefully extricates one of the sodas from its packaging, clumsily twisting the plastic around until it's free. With a dubious expression, she pops the tab, and takes a sip.
Vantablitz Remnants	Huffing and puffing out in the parking lot at this hour. The rapid tippytaptaptip of dishevelled footsteps in two unevenly matched pairs. From beyond the hatch, a winded and beleaguered woman's voice calling "Heyyy! Hey! I - I saw the notice! Is this - Are you still open? Hello? Hellooooo?". Then, a short pause after, a sound like iron filings thrumming on vibrating glass, a corrupted vocoder's dying purr, with the exact resonance and cadence of a woman who thinks the first one is cringe and embarrassing her right now, saying "Do you see a sock on the handle? Just knock on the door and go in already~" An argument about whether or not a spaceship counts as a hotel follows. Outside is a tall woman with loose red-brown hair gathered into a long ponytail, wearing and olive cutoff and lower fatigues that are too small and too large respectively, and a minifridge-sized wilderness backpack. She is arguing with a woman exactly one inch taller, wearing what appears to be body armour of immaculately fitted, slender white enamel (or bone?) with luminous green markings, all the way up to a four-eyed and mouthless mask and long black hair like half-separated strands of ferrofluid, who has smugly carried a miniature duffel underhand. The former pouts and gestures emphatically. The latter leans back on her heel and turns up her chin. Both wear a dark black flower with white innards and electric green anthers in their hair. The argument shifts to sci-fi movies.
AME	PWR Game is not a drink. It's more like a drink. An elixir of your heart jumping out of your chest, of your coolant pumps working overdrive until your resevoir bursts, of the very energy that moves you, no matter what that might be, shooting itself in the foot and winning the marathon in one instantaneous picosecond. It's Potion Of Shit Yourself. If giving a Monster to a medieval peasant would, in theory, kill them, then the advancements in science made from the world this liquid is manufactured in represent a transition to the spirit world far less merciful than simple death. It tastes like red.
Ishirou	Ishirou pokes his head up from behind the counter to look at the Red on the floor. He can detect 'danger' from it, without even using his scanners. He...did say he wanted one. But... He reaches over, gripping with a remote grab and yanking a Red to his free hand. He looks at it ominously. He'd feel bad if he didn't... He takes a drink. He keeps drinking, but in reality, he's frozen in place. He seems to redshift slightly. That's when you realize it, he's moving and assembling something in the kitchen. It's a steak topped with mushrooms and gravy. He hands it to Kukuru, and is already making another. "HelloAnhandLotuscanImakesomethingforyoutoday,Iamgoodveryexcitedrightnowhello!"
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	DRYCLEAN tries, and fails, to push Kukuru's hand away from their monitor as they pass, reaction time not the hazard but instead just comical lack of strength. The resulting burst of static could be described as "disgruntled". After standing silently in the parking lot for a few moments as the two newcomers approach, they suddenly break towards them from behind and extend a hand in greetings. "Hey there. Miss Anh, Miss Lotus. Pleasure t'make your acquaintance. Y'heard the message, you know who I am. Bags're gonna be cramped, don't set anythin' on top of anyone. Bathroom's on the left."
Kukuru	There's familiar voices outside! Smiling a little brighter, Kukuru pokes her head outside to greet the arguing pair. "Ahny! Lottie! Hi, hi, it's so good to see you again... Oh, come, come, we're still here! IShi's got food, and AME's got drinks, and-" Ishirou gets Kukuru her food before she realizes he's even started. Blinking slowly (for her) in surprise, she giggles after a moment and finds a seat for herself among all the stuff. "Oh, be careful over there. Make sure not to run with anything sharp!" She gets to eating her steak and mushrooms (starting with a bit of mushrooms, then steak), and she promptly starts making delighted noises. "Delicious! Oh, you've come so far..." Although she alternates between looking like she's about to cry and putting more food in her face, those that know Kukuru (or just read her mind somehow) will easily realize that it doesn't actually matter how good the food is. She's just that happy about getting a home-cooked meal from one of her 'kids'. That only stops when she takes a sip of the Red drink, starting with the one sip at first before downing another quarter of the can in one go. She stops moving, her pupils widen considerably, and she just stares at the door where DRYCLEAN is greeting the pair. She might be stuck.
Father Berislav	Berislav returns to his book, pushing his reading glasses slightly up the bridge of his nose and settling in his seat with a small smile--until the smell of PWR Game reaches him. Frowning slightly, he again closes the book, taking it with him. "Are you quite used to sugary drinks? I can't help but notice your... reaction," he adds, "Nor the smell of what I can only describe as the Ur-Soda. Be sure you drink some water to wash it down--I can't imagine what the crash must be like..." Turning to face Ahn and Lotus, he extends a hand in greeting. "Hello," he says, "I'm Father Waters Berislav. It's a pleasure to meet you both."
Veve Joueur	Veve learned what soda is, today. Veve's first experience with something referred to as soda is unfathomable. It tastes like being punched in the face with lightning. All of her joints lock up, and her key starts spinning wildly, mechanical whirring melding into a loud buzz. With stiff, mechanical movement, she raises up her hand to lay it on her cheek and finishes swallowing the PWR Game. "...I, suppose I can, see the appeal, but I have to say, it's not, for me." Each word is labored, like she's focusing all her energy into keeping her speech even. Meanwhile, every ghostly song emanating from her in DRYCLEAN's perception switches into a nightcore cover. It sounds like someone who's got multiple tabs of BEST NIGHTCORE GAMING MIX 10 HOURS open buried in their browser, and has chosen to keep them all running at once.
AME	AME just giggles this whole nonsense away, in her usual manner. This probably isn't an unusual first reaction to the drink, and it's not like she hasn't been the one to introduce it to more than a few. "Are, um, you all okay?" she asks, in a humorous tone. They'll be fine. It wouldn't be legal for this stuff to be sold if they wouldn't be.
Kukuru	Kukuru's eyes continue to see everything and nothing as she keeps facing the doorway, barely even moving when Berislav and AME comment on/ask about the power of PWR. The only sign she's even aware of them speaking is, after a solid minute of not moving, she promptly goes right back to normal and digs back into her steak and mushrooms. "So tasty~ Mm mm mm... Oh? Yep! I'm okay now~" Her eyes are still kind of messed up looking, but her voice and movements are back to normal. "Did you get to try it yet? It's pretty tasty."
Vantablitz Remnants	'After standing silently in the parking lot for a few moments as the two newcomers approach, they suddenly break towards them from behind and extend a hand in greetings.' "Ack! Gods! That scared me!" "Why? It doesn't scare you when I do it anymore." "That's different and also I still tell you not to!" The two spend a second longer talking as if DRYCLEAN isn't even there, and then Ahn switches to paying attention to them with an identical expression to that of 'just opening the door now'. "A-ah, you already know who we are?" "Didn't our little 'Foureyes' just yell it out loud?" "Wait, you understood that?" "And don't worry, if there's too little space, we'll just throw someone out~" "Sh-she's just joking! Probably! Don't worry! It's a pleasure to meet you too!" Ahn absentmindedly, presses her hands to her thighs and shallowly bows by way of apology, accidentally hefting the entire fifty pound backpack up and down with too little care. Lotus tilts her head a little too far in menacing-purring contemplation of Berislav's hand, then takes it in a firm, boneless grip, hard plate and soft blackness squeezing like choking ivy. "Father? Are you a priest? Like from E-" "No Lotus that was a cleric." "Like from D-" "No that's a different kind of cleric." "What? That's so stupid." "They're only the same word in English! Listen to me!"
Wisconsin	On top of one of the crates, the petite form of Denver rouses from her low power mode she'd shifted into. She wasn't sleeping, really. She was just resting her eyes. "Buh, hi... hello..." Other, different people now. "Did we take off?"
Ishirou	Ishirou zooms by. A sandwich is placed on the counter, with bacon, avocado, and toast. Ishirou is then eating it. He was hungry. The next time Ishirou is seen he's slumped over in a corner sleeping.
Vantablitz Remnants	"Ah! No no no! No taking off yet! Let me--" Ahn is already hauling ass up into the cargo bay. The way her backpack doesn't so much as clatter betrays just how tightly packed it is, and more subtly, just how expertly arranged its insides are. "I'm Ahn! Um, hello! Just Ahn! I mean, pleased to meet you!" Lotus is already eyeing Ishirou collapsed in the corner. The eyes of her mask blink in individual sequence. "Do you think he'd be mad if I took a little bite?" "Of course he'd be!" "He smells a lot more edible this time. Is it rude to ask?" "It's rude to ask." "Hmmmm . . ."
Father Berislav	"My, what a firm handshake," says the priest, with evident approval and a glimmer of mirth in his silver eyes. "I'm a priest from an Earth, yes. Futuristic by the standards of most, in terms of 'which Earth.' And in terms of 'what religion,' the Episcopalian denomination of Christianity. An American offshoot of an English offshoot, you could say," he adds with a grin. "English is a funny language, isn't it? We have a joke, in the clergy--'all Christians are catholic, but not all Christians are Catholic.'" He chuckles. "Please don't throw anyone out," he quietly pleads, stage whisper.
DRYCLEAN-SIGINT	Party's here, everyone's reasonably settled, and the sun's setting. Go time. DRYCLEAN steps back into the ship, waiting for the last two to clear the threshold, and the bay door quietly slides shut as a section rotates and clicks locked. They find a last remaining open spot and once more set up their folding chair there, sitting down and leaning back slowly. "Alright, folks, we got everyone I'm expectin', nobody's gettin' thrown out. Time's set, we'll get there in 17. Tell me before you use anythin', ah, spatially esoteric. Don't want the shroud comin' apart." There's a gentle hum from below. Minor acceleration. One of the racks that was displaced from inside was returned at some point, and an array of tube televisions suddenly snap to life with external views of the ship rising. Something whirrs. All at once, everyone receives a sensation like the sinking feeling you get from a long fall, except perpendicular in some non-direction. The external feed shows the town, splayed out under them, suddenly folding out of perception. It's like watching a kaleidoscope in three dimensions, objects shifting- -and then there is only blue. Anyone with the capabilities would feel a surge of ontological manipulation. The shroud shimmers, slightly, only somewhat visible as anything more than the slight distortion on the external feeds. The sinking feeling recedes as the acceleration changes direction, gentle but consistent, while Veve's song and that omnipresent static are dimmed down. And thus they move.
AME	AME curls up, hugging her knees tighter and resting the chin of her monitor on them. Her display flickers to some loading or shutdown message before shutting off, and she goes motionless. Except that the deluge of widenet requests don't stop- they pick up- nor does the churning of coolant pumps. Assuming you can hear either of those, anyways.
Kukuru	"Oh, you don't have to throw anyone out, don't worry. There's plenty of space here." Kukuru pats her lap as she looks right at Ahn and Lotus intently, smiling brightly as she nods in agreement with Bercilak, almost like she's practically inviting them to come over and take a breather on her lap. They do get a curious look when bites are mentioned, although Kukuru being Kukuru... "It's not nice to eat someone else's food, but... If you remember to compliment him for it being tasty, I'm sure he'll understand." She misses the meaning entirely. When the ship finally starts to move, though, Kukuru's easygoing smile falters somewhat. It's a little more tense, and she keeps one hand on the floor beside her just to make sure it's firmly below her at all times. She suddenly seems less inclined to get up at all, as if she's prepared to hate the sensation of weightlessness from flying. She looks mildly terrified when she feels herself drifting sideways, but not. She really looks like she wants them to join her now.
Wisconsin	Oh hey, a lap. Denver slides over, and climbs into the Kukuru lap. "You okay, Kukuru? This is a bit weird, but it'll be fine. We're gonna go learn stuff." She puffs up, and sighs. "I'mma Knight, I'll keep ya safe."
Kukuru	Denver settles into place instead, and Kukuru's hand locks onto her head for gentle stroking. "Mhm! Just a little... Moving around like this still feels weird. I'll get used to flying sometime, though." Kukuru admist with a light chuckle, eventually opting to just lay flat on her back to maximize contact with the ground. She's still got plenty of space to park on.