Scene #8398: Apparently We Need To Talk?

Owner	Pose
Candy	Amacuzac is noisy in the summer, when the river that runs through it is at its most rapid, and the alpine air carries the cries of insects. Candy washes dishes at the sink, the pleasant saturated yellow of the walls complementing the red-orange sunset outside. "Of course your sister would be trouble, too. he grumbles, aggressively working the sponge into the plate such that the ceramic squeaks in his grasp. It's shoved a little too aggressively into the dish rack, and, snatching the towel contemptously from the handle of his antiquated oven, Candy dries his hands, heading into the living room. Stepping past a well-worn, well-loved loveseat in humble brown fabric upholstery, he watches, stood next to an end table, for signs of anyone coming up the dirt road. Two barren divots are worn into the road, the sign of this world's automobiles trundling lazily by here and there. Even from the road, a traveler can see the farmer kneading something (the dishtowel) between his hands like he's trying to kill it. "Whatever. Better this, than that bastard doctor. Probably have to navigate a goddamn obstacle course." Given to a fit of impatience, he huffs and heads back into the kitchen. His visitors will have a fresh pot of coffee ready--as much as it might interest or avail them. He didn't really think it through.
Dimokratia	'His Visitors' had arrived just moments ago, arriving at the front door. She had stooped. He most likely did not. Dimo, of the Silver, has arrived once more in Amacuzac to the pleasure of Candelario's company whether he likes it or not. She had 'called' ahead, sending a single hour (exactly) for Candy to clean up his space and then had arrived. She had also arranged with Ishirou to be present with the same parameters - but she had uncannily arrived before him, just a step behind to lean down and buzz the door herself rather than letting him do it himself. The silver woman had smiled, though her outfit was not such a serious thing as to imply any more looming than her physical stature demanded. In a pair of large, round glasses that balance on her nose, a hooded sweater emblazoned with 'Commonwealth Counselor' in stencil text over where the heart would be on a standard-pattern human, with the potentially deeply ironic image of a brain in a red cross being operated on by a cartoon wrench. Someone in some marketing division made a mistake and Dimo of the Silver of course found exactly this thing to wear over her carbon black and chrome silver body to see Candy for coffee. Settling into Candy's living room couch without being directly invited, she gets the right angle for half-crossing her legs with an ankle over the opposite knee, revealing her neon green crocs to complete her 'youth counselor' cosplay. A carbon-black finger pushes her large glasses needlessly up her nose. "I was not given specifics, as to the nature of this meeting, but I have taken the uniform of what I feel may be the appropriate medicae for the various conditions we'll face tonight. Together. In the healing process." "Candelario, would you please pour coffee? It is warmly appreciated." Dimo hums over to the dishfish nearby.
Ishirou	He absolutely did not. Met at the door by Dimo, Ishirou was in a body made out of a basic casing, and a screen for a face instead of his traditional face. It was common knowledge that he was killed, and has been placed into this body. He had contacted Dimo for a final solution to his body problems. Walking in with Dimo, he isn't sure why she decided here would be the place to talk. In fact, he didn't know they really knew each other. He sits down on the couch and looks over across at Candy, then at Dimo. "Oh, did...I forget to send them? Uh...sorry that's my mistake. I wanted to talk to you about...well a new body," he says, something he has talked about with Candy before. "...My human one could be saved, theoretically, but..." he sighs, "I don't think it's me anymore. I talked with Phony about it a little, and she didn't think it was wrong of me.." "So...I wanted a body that I could shape into something I am better aligned to."
Candy	Candy unties his white apron, hanging it up on a little hook screwed into the wall. Floorboards creak, freshly swept, as Candy marches across his spotless kitchen, back into his living room to open the front door. One hour is plenty of time, when you can experience its passing more liberally than most. "Come--" He pauses in his pointedly hurried ushering to really get a closer look at Dimo. "...in." He blinks, then asks, as if irritated from being momentarily distracted from prior irritation, "What's with the costume, ah?" Squinting at her, he shakes his head and disappears into his kitchen, returning with a pot of coffee in one hand, and the fingers of the other hand looped through three coffee mugs. They're all mismatched. One is painted with an aged depiction of a nearby big city, Cuernavaca, a bustling early-twentieth-century city. Another is a gremlinesque depiction of a cat that looks like it came from a flea market. The third is an iridiscent blue cardinal glass mug, bearing engraved depictions of Aztec legends and mythical creatures. Candy brews his coffee strong. He's not stingy with cream or sugar. "Oh, she didn't?" he remarks, with a quirked brow, as he disappears back into the kitchen after pouring. If asked, he informs his guests they can help themselves to refills, if they like. He shrugs, on his way back in, dragging a dining table chair to sit in with Dimo and Ishirou. "I'm the last guy that's gonns say what's 'wrong,' with that, ah?" Waving an arm dismissively, he continues, "The way I see it, either we got every right to be who we are, or we don't got no right." He leans forwards in his chair. "I'd rather have every right, me. Now," he says, hands clasped together, "Where do me and Dimo come into that, ah, 'alignment?'"
Dimokratia	"I find a great amusement in adopting and adapting the tribal dress of the cultures I come into contact with. This," Dimo indicates her glasses, own-organization ''swag'' (marketing, questionable), and awful footwear. "Is calming to children." Comes the beatific hum of the warm distant-buzzingly mechanical woman. Ishirou's laid out needs and problems draws Dimo's carbon-black fingertips together to steeple as her cool blue optics regard Candy, and his offered coffee. Taking it with a lean forward, she regards the dark, strong stimulant. . . that is utterly worthless to her systems, and takes a slow indulgent sip anyway. "Describe this thing you want, to me." A pause, and a little smirk to Candy. "To myself and Candelario. Be specific and clear. What are you aligned with?"
Ishirou	Ishirou holds up a hand at any offered coffee. He uh...well can't drink it. "...Well, because I need help with the blind spots in my vision sometimes, so someone who's personally close to me and knows how...dumb I can be sometimes would help. And...emotional support? It's kind of a big deal.." he says to Candy, with a smile. Turning his attention back to Dimo he nods. "I would say I think I align closest with...human. Not...a physical form, but a mentality that I think needs to be introduced to it. Then softness...warmth. I should be approachable and easy to talk to and not intimidating. So I imagine my size shouldn't change much." He thinks, and motions towards POD which floats around and displays a holographic image. It displays a similar-sized Ishirou, with shoulder-length white hair. The skin is also pale, very pale, and close to white. There are the blues tend towards the eyes, the mouth, fingernails, and so forth. Black seems to be focused on 'extra' features. A pair of extra arms and fingers are shown to be able to be deployed underneath the main arms, and a 'tail' like a limb that hangs around the waist area. There are a pair of 'antennae' that hang out behind his head that is/almost/cat-like. The idea is a combination of both technological elements and human-like ones. It's an idea of what a human could be, and how expression is more important than uniformity. "I was originally 'designed' for information gathering, but...it's something I really do enjoy. Knowing and learning, but I also want the idea of being human to be more flexible. Maybe my form isn't for everyone, but the idea should inspire others to find their own form, or talk to me about it." He sighs, and then speaks, "Remove the INDUS from the form...it might go a long way to also removing its influence from my mind so I don't fall back into those habits again."
Candy	"...the glasses are a nice touch," Candy begrudgingly admits. He means it. Having taken the carnival glass mug for himself (since Ishirou indeed can't drink it), he angles his head towards Ishirou and listens, one arm resting against his leg as he keeps the mug within sipping distance with the other hand. Candy is scrutinizing Ishirou, in a way he hasn't before. It's like an artisan, or workman, taking in details before a job. And a little like the weighty gaze of an appraising elder. His brown eyes flick between Ishirou and Dimo, and he speaks up, after a grunt of thought. "First of all," he says, calmly but firmly, drifing out of his mental first-drafting, "You're gonna get help with the blind spots. And that don't mean I'm a little gumball machine you pchink," he pantomimes dropping a coin into a slot, "Get your answer and fuck off. It means you trust that when I give you that help, I know what I am talking about, ah?" He sighs, glancing to his right, towards the turned-off radio, resting on an end table opposite the window behind him. "The support, you get too." Candy peers at the projection before him. "Okay, so you got a draft put together. That, I can work with," he says, in a way that passively suggests to Dimo that he very much wants to do this himself, without the Silver involved. "What's the shape of it, in your head? 'Human.' What does 'human' need to be, to you, at the end of the day? Making a 'you' with, ah," he taps his temple with an index, "I dunno. Purpose, deciding what stays and what goes, it's a long process. Your heart will know, before your head does, in some ways. So think with that, for right now."
Dimokratia	Dimo asks for the description of what is wanted. Specific and clear, as she requests, and it spills out. The truth, as Ishirou understands it, a preaching of a sort. Considered from the angles he can, built in a shape, with meanings on meanings. A layercake of inspirations, that, should she start to pull apart, she might find a line called 'Ishirou' in whole and part, laid in a mesh. Dimo tilts the coffee mug away from her lips and tilts her head incrementally, a precise ten degree shift, towards Ishirou's imaging. She doesn't need to See POD's display to take it in. The image was digitally rendered, and Dimo was not so simple as to require to look at digitally displayed information. "It reminds me of several other people. Futaba, even. The tailed girl, who learned the use if ribbon trails instead. I--" Dimo pauses after a moment, her consideration paused by Candy taking over and strongly pushing his own gifts forward. She doesn't need to read it off his synapse to catch the drift -- it suits her own ends fine. Instead she gives a tiny almost-a-smile, more-a-smirk turn to the comment on her eyewear. She knows she looks good. "I do not think there will be any INDUS in what Candelario could make for you. But I am also curious - You change these word-meanings, these little shifts. Does it change the negative energy for positive? If it is important, can you express it?"
Ishirou	'It means you trust that when I give you that help, I know what I am talking about, ah?' Ishirou looks solemn at that because he knows he /has/ been taking the people around him for granted. He had treated them poorly, and he...hurt them a lot because of his behavior. He could cry or break down...but that's not going to fix it. It wasn't enough to show remorse, but to make an active attempt to be better. "Alright, I promise," he says, with a soft smile. "Rita...well she showed me what I was doing and what could happen. I owe her a lot.." he admits. "I won't let what happened happen again, I'll try with every fiber of my being to not do it again.." What does human mean to Ishirou? That's a good question, because before it was something he was attempting to achieve because he confused it and personhood. It's not that he had buyer's remorse, and came to enjoy his body with everything that came with it...but it felt slightly stifling. "Cooperation, adaption, and overcoming. A group of humans working together creates a lot of good things. Adaptation to situations and hard times, learning, and giving that knowledge to the future. Overcoming...both outside trials, but also needing to overcome things they have put on themselves. Certain bad concepts, bad ideas, awful brain worms. The ones that can overcome those really do shine." "But it does also have to encompass things that are human too. Eating food, sleeping...closeness with someone you love.." he says staring at Candy, "Warmth and familiarity." "I suppose there is.." Ishirou admits, "But I imagine it is because these are people who helped me come to who I am," he says, thoughtfully. He pauses, looking at the exchange between Candy and Dimo. Then turns to thought at her question. "I...suppose not entirely. There are still negatives to positive traits... and making errors is natural. But..." he says thinking, "If it is something that is human that should be celebrated, then I will try everything I can do to express it. Though I suppose I should focus on the aspects that I am better suited to expressing.."
Candy	Candy takes a long pull of his coffee mug, both hands on it as if fearful that it might fly away. He nods, then lets out a sharp little sigh. "Okay," says Candy with a thin smile, setting the empty mug safely down on the end table with the radio. "Then I trust you. Thanks, Ishirou." "Constant improvement," says Candy, tracing a finger along the radio's antenna. For someone from a world like his or Dimo's, it must seem impossibly bulky and antiquated. But, its wooden frame is beautiful and rich and pristine. Stained and lacquered, accented with brass, it speaks to a vibrant future more human and yet more fantastical than the people of Candy's world could imagine, the device's rounded lines and proudly etched labels are quintessentially a creation of humans. Turning to face Ishirou, Candy nods. "I'm gonna have to make the tools to make the tools to make that new you, and make the tools to make the tools to put you in it," he says, emphasizing the repetition. "But, all that takes is time and potential. Now you know what you wanna look like, and what you want it to mean. Now you gotta think about--" Ishirou says it himself, and Dimo alludes to it. What is said, by way of what's left unsaid. Candy nods towards Dimo. "Goddamn right there won't be," he affirms. Ishirou's further elaboration earns him a twinkling-eyed smile from Candy. "So. It's a love letter, and encouragement. I like that, I think. I'd be happy to work on that for you. Have POD... I don't know, send me an electric letter or whatever," he says, waving his hand dismissively. "Just however I can get ahold of the brass tacks, and then you and me, we will work out the fine details together." "You want some cake, Dimo? A friend brought some by." He gestures towards the kitchen with a thumb.
Dimokratia	"Ishirou." Dimo begins, from her cross-legged position with glasses and soft hooded jacket, leaned into the cushion of Candy's couch with thumb and forefinger curled into the loop of Candy's mug-ring. "In the coming days, you will have to confront something about yoursef, within yourself, that does not react to cute words, does not balk at your feelings." Sitting up, she places the cup down on the table across from her, legs shifting to sit up straight, then fall sidelong across the arm at a gentle incline, leaning against the armrest. "You will confront change in yourself, in your constant improvement, and will have to learn how to improve through reduction. To expand through restraint. And others." A soft, harmonic chuckle follows, Dimo emitting a downturn in her tone as she makes the slightest whisk of her chin, the softest brush of her long platinum bangs. "'And others', of course, unless you pursue a specialization in dying. I would not. Candelario would not." The naming brings a shift in the tall synthetic woman's attention. "If this tribal garb gives me some priest initiation, then I bless your efforts. I am interested to see what your passion will result in." The reassurance of a tribal shaman, a youth guidance counselor. "I will take your cake, of course." Dimo adds, cheerfully.
Ishirou	Ishirou smiles at Candy, "Then I suppose you mind if I stay here during the process. I never got a chance to see your work before! POD is sending the information right now," he says, as POD shuts off the display, and affirms that it has done this. Ishirou does smile at the 'love letter and encouragement'. "I... think that it's not fair that humanity has forced some people to feel they are outside of it, and it shouldn't be that way... so maybe I can at least help push this for them." "...That and because I should also be the change I want to see." "...I wish I could eat that cake," he says with a slight mumble. His screen face turns towards Dimo. He listens to her, and she tells him what his next few days will be like. He pauses, not quite frowning but also thoughtful in his expression. "...No no more burning myself out. I've hurt too many people doing things like that," he says, mournfully. "I... Lilian is right though. There is too much of INDUS in me, and I can't become complacent anymore." "I can't let it keep hurting me like this, because that's what it's doing. I... have to become better, and I will become better. I don't know if I can make it up, but..." he says pausing, "I can only try." he says with a firm tone. "Hehe... thanks Dimo. I appreciate the blessing. I'll do better with it this time around."