lingeringlegacy | 04 ☆ Exceeding theoretical boundaries

Snazzy flags that have a skull and crossbones. Possibly a plank to walk.

But if pirates carry a conspicuous flag, surely the Coast Guard will have an easier time doing raids. I wouldn't do that if I were a pirate.

The sneaky pirates don't put the flags up until they're right up on the victims. The ones that ride around with it in full view get what's coming to them.

[Totally making this up as he goes, now.]

Then what would they do if the victims turned out to be fellow pirates-in-disguise?

Keel haul them anyway. No mercy or allegiance for anyone but your fellow crew members. Arrghh and whatnot.

I hope you were never a pirate, Gene, because it seems you would have been a menace to society.

You say that like I'm not already.

Have I been given a false presentation all along?

Well, you never can tell here. Things are always more than they seem.

Ah, speaking of that. I think I'd like to pop by your work and talk about something.

Sure thing. I should be there for most of the day, so feel free to come by any time.

((ooc: Do you want to do a formal log or a quicklog?))

Edited 2010-09-24 05:39 (UTC)

Would lunchtime be fine? I can get something for you from the Bazaar if you haven't got lunch.

[Would ttly cook something if it was more planned.]

[ooc: Quicklog please /lazy]

Lunch break works for me. And you don't have to get anything, but if it's on your way then I'll pay you back when we meet up.

[We shall commence to quiclogging, then!]

[The next day Gene made sure to gravitate towards the elevator around noon. He kind of hated to just stand around idle, so he pulled a beaten up card table close to the lift and busied himself by tinkering with mechanical fan he had found in pieces that morning.]

[Come to think of it, this would be Stellaris' first visit to the Scavenger's Yard. From all things she had heard about it, she expected piles of junk, dust and rusty metal, and hence the outfit she wore to work that morning —grey corduroy trousers, white turtleneck, sky blue cardigan and her trusty walking boots— pretty much covered all but her head and hands.

Come to think of it as well, she had forgotten to ask what Gene might like for lunch. Hence in the restaurant she had gone for the stereotypical based on his accent and picked what menu of the day with potato in it, plus sausages.

Packed lunch in one hand, cloth bag with her journal in another, she stepped out of the elevator on 5th floor. It was not very hard to find him, apparently focused on the parts on his table.]

Fixing something?

[If he knew that what she had picked out was based largely on his accent and origins, he would be terribly amused. That said, the choice she made was a good one.

When he heard a familiar voice Gene blinked, looking up at the source.]

Hey there. Yeah, thought I'd get a bit of repair work done.

[By this point he'd gotten most of the mechanical bits in the base together, he just needed to put the paneling back on and reattach the blades and guard. Figuring no one would bother his little project he rested it on the card table and pulled it farther out of the way of traffic.]

Care to take a bit of a walk before starting in on lunch?

[He had no idea what it was she wanted to address, but he generally felt more comfortable not talking about things in the open. That, and he knew of a relatively clean, unburied car in the Scavenger's Yard that would offer decent seating for their meal.]

Do all Scavengers do your own repairs? [Fred seemed to, but the other person... Aniki, didn't sound very convincing.]

Sure. [She nodded. She was not quite sure where to begin. She had a lot of ideas, and things about herself she found out since their last meeting in the party, but she wasn't sure about revealing everything yet, even to Gene. The stalling was not entirely unwelcomed.]

Ah, I hope you like potato gratin and sausages. I forgot to ask yesterday.

I think most do at least some repair. Our expertise tends to span the board, though. So if one of us doesn't know how to fix something we can ask a co-worker for input. If that doesn't work, we tend to try to sell the parts to tradespeople and see if they can do anything with it.

[He tucked his hands into the pockets of his long khaki coat as they strolled between stacks of towering junk. In this section there was a mountain of terribly abused office equipment on one side, consisting of ancient copy and fax machines that had seen better days. On the other side of their path were brightly coloured kids' toys such as plastic playhouses and miniature tricycles all stacked haphazardly.]

That sounds perfectly fine. How much do I owe you, by the way?

[Walking besides him through the field of junk, she takes note of the variety within the heaps. Most looked tarnished and corroded, though strangely without smells of decomposed matter one might associate with a scrapyard.]

That system sounds effective, with the variety of people and cultures here. But do you think it's cheaper if I get parts from Scavengers instead of from the tradespeople? I am running out of solder wires.

You can pay me anytime. [She quoted the exact price of their lunch.] Or in solder wires.

Definitely. If you're doing the sort of work where you know what to do with solder wires, you may as well cut out the middle man. [He shot her a curious glance.] What kind of work are you doing, by the way?

[The comment about paying her in solder wires got a chuckle out of him.] Sadly, I've gotten out of the habit of carrying solder wires on my person. I hope this will do. [He pulled a pouch off of his belt, fished out the appropriate amount of money and offered it to her while it was on his mind. It was still so strange to deal in wooden coinage, even after a year of being here.]

Mostly I'm just learning how to put things together based on some books from the Bookstore. Or perhaps... re-learning. It feels familiar somehow, even if the book feels outdated. Ah, just drop them in here.

[She lifted the cloth bag a little so that he could drop the coins inside. Wooden coins, yet another strangely primitive item.]

I'm giving it a day a week to study electronics. Sometimes I see things here I find could use improvement, but if I just give an empty suggestion, it wouldn't fly, right? So I need to learn first.

[He did as asked, letting the coins fall inside with a soft thump each.]

That's a good way of approaching it. I know people here tend to get frustrated when someone says "fix something!" and then don't have any input on how it should be fixed. You said this sort of thing felt familiar, has it been coming easily?

[He led them around a corner, and sedan came into view. The wheels were missing, as was the top of the hood and the engine, but a look at the interior would reveal it to be remarkably clean and untouched by the rust and ruin around them.]

Ah, this is the spot. [He approached to open one of the doors, but looked over at Stellaris before he did so.] I hope this is alright?

[As comfortable as he knew the seating was (he had tested it himself) Gene was perfectly aware that this was hardly the Ritz. He realized not everyone would be okay with sitting in an abandoned car.]

Ah, yes, they came easier than sparring and shooting. [She said offhandedly.] At least with them I don't feel like I need an instructor.

Oh. [The remnants of the sedan was quite an unexpected view.] Ah—sure. It is much better than sitting on the ground, for certain. [She pushes the car frame besides the open door, giving it a shake to gauge the stability.] It won't... tumble or anything?

So you've been dabbling in both? How's that worked out?

[He nodded when she asked if it was secure.] Yeah, I've rummaged around inside the bonnet to grab spark plugs for a project one person had going. I don't think it would budge if we tried.

[He gave her a sidelong glance.] You sure you're okay with it? It won't hurt my feelings if you say no, y'know.

[That was one of the real downsides of the Scavenger's Yard. Yes, it was rumoured to be more secure than any other place in the Sphere but, well. Classy, it wasn't.]

Edited 2010-09-25 08:43 (UTC)

Smoke had been very kind to help me practice sparring in the dojo, training my reflexes. As for shooting, I had a couple of practice sessions with Aim, and some on my own. [Though she still couldn't hear his not-exactly-real name.] What with the... recent incident, I finally got myself a gun. I still need to work on steadying during recoil, though.

[It had the look of a ramshackle old car, but Gene was right, it didn't budge. She closed her eyes for a second, exhaling softly. She wondered why she bothered, sometimes. In this place something as rock-solid as a mountain cave could change shape in a blink of an eye. If the pile of wreckage under them suddenly decided to give way and swallow them together with the car, she couldn't really whip out a logic police badge and tell them to stop breaking the law of physics.]

I'm fine with it, really! And not just because I don't want to hurt your feelings.

That's good to hear. [Both that she had been training in general and that she'd gone ahead and gotten herself the gun.] What sort did you get?

[He tilted his head slightly as she closed her eyes and let out a breath. Clearly it wasn't her preferred way of doing things, but if she was this willing to bear with it, he wouldn't question her further.]

Alright, then. [He opened the door for her, revealing gray seating inside. It would look very dated to either of them, but it didn't suffer from holes, worn spots, or discoloration. All the damage was thankfully located on the outside of the car.] After you.

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journal to quicklog

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quicklog :: what is it with them and cars?

Re: quicklog :: ...cars are convenient?

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