Dec 09 03:57:13 108 PA - A New Body, Saucer and Tools For Kingsdale
From Chronicles
Dec 09 03:57:13 108 PA.
NEAR THE LANDING STRIP
Deep in the dark of early morning, the landing strip is just as busy as ever. People coming and going from the mechanics that line the area, aircraft taking off and landing, people milling around in general. The two-foot thick layer of snow doesn't help, either. Neither do the sub-freezing temperatures. Though some people aren't as bothered by them, everyone is out in whatever warm clothing they can handle. A very large man with wavy, shoulder length hair is coming toward the gates from some distant area. A large canvas bag is thrown over his shoulder, but he's humming and occasionally actually uttering a word of some song.
Landing. That’s what this would qualify as. The crash in front of it is merely exaggeration. The people taking cover as an unknown craft approaches the runway at dangerous speeds are just worry warts. There's even the loud scream of impending disaster.. Which dulls quickly to a remarkably controlled landing of a most unique craft. It looks like the pilot and machine have merged in this case, at the hip. It doesn’t look out of sorts at all either as it comes to a rest hovering above the ground. Of course one of the ground crew is of a completely different mindset but the creation seems to take it in stride with many apologies before following with a question. "So is this Kingsdale?"
Some people know how ta make a big entrance. Some're just walkin back fer town. Like Bella. She's sorta trudging through the snow. 'Round it when she can. What she's doin way out inna woods? Who knows? But she's comin back past alla flyin 'n drivin 'n floatin stuff now. Cause it's onna way. She spots the big guy't ain't metal first. Then looks over at the screamin 'n yellin. But nothin crashes. Guess they were yellin fer nothin.
The big fellow with the bag can't help but look up to see what the commotion is. Neither can he help but exclaim, "Eto ochen stranno!" as the thing comes to rest. His face squirks up so that it's quite clear he's never seen anything like it, and has absolutely no idea what to make of it. Doesn't even allow himself the time to notice friends in the area, though he does maintain a good grip on his bag. His walk slows significantly as he keeps an eye on the newcomer, but after a few moments, he comes to a stop, offering, "Da, Keengsdehle. Ceety heer." A thick finger points to the city itself, as technically in his mind, the landing strip is outside of, and thus not actually part of the city.
The hovering contraption nods, moving to keep pace near the large foreign man. "Excellent, I'd guess I'd qualify as an immigrant. Is there any due process for entering the city proper?" It asks in a very neutral voice. Not to high or too deep, to loud or too soft. It'd be the type of voice that would fit with a slim man or built girl. Make what you will of it on this thing. "Must say it doesn’t look nearly as bad as it did in the propaganda. Was told this is a filthy nest of drug addicts and demon worshipers."
Bella walks more. Towards the big guy she nows. 'N the bigger floaty boy girl whatever the fack that is. She looks pretty hard ta try 'n figger't out. Smirks at hearin some of the talkin though. "Guessin ya heard 'boutta Dregs. Whole place ain' like that though."
Pavel looks at Bella quickly. "Vhat een 'Drehgs? Mohr?" He gives the short girl a short wave, then turns his attention back to the newcomer. He's doing his best to be polite, that much is clear on his face. It's also clear that he's staring, despite repeated glances in random directions. "Ah, fohr ehntehr ceety? No. Joost geev guards strohng vhepons. No cahn tehk strohng vhepons eento ceety. Szer ees peepohl so fohr seh vhat good, vhat bad." Other than that, he does his best to mind his own business, but be friendly at the same time.
"Sounds simple enough. What would drug addicts and demon worshipers want with customs anyway? Just enough to keep the crazy stuff controlled hmm? Well I don’t have any weapons, just tools. Which I can't turn in but none of them are any more dangerous than a vibro-sword or laser pistol." The machination replies with a slight nod. "I'm Alex by the way, thank you for the friendly welcome. Much better than the welcomes I've been avoiding the last few days."
"Oughtta be Ok. Maybe." Bella shrugs up at the floaty plate machine thing. That's called Alex. Her smirk gets bigger. "Betcha get lotsa people shootin atcha 'n stuff. Annoyn ain't't?"
The large man drops his bag gently to the ground, and reaches upward with a palm the size of a catcher's mitt. "I Pavel. Vyelcohm to Keengsdehle. Ceety noht fohr droog ahdeects, deemohn vohrsheepahrs. Vyery, vyery noht pehrfect, boot mahny bettehr szan oszers. Good meet, Alex."
Alex pauses a moment, looking at the offered hand below. Understandably a moment is taken to consider how best to receive it. None of the tool arms are very appropriate and the regular arms are much higher.. But he does manage through some aerial acrobatics to list over to an inverted position that allows his humanoid hand to give the shake. "Nice to meet you Pavel. So who else lives in Kingsdale?"
Bella quirks a brow at that one. Even if it weren' asked at her. "Uh. Lotsa people. Not gonna build up alla that stuff fer just me. Course that't'd be really cool though." Her own li'l city. Could maybe be fun. There's lotsa snow 'round that ev'rybody's standin in. 'Cept fer Alex. 'N Pavel don't look so short in it like Bella does. Good thing it's still really late. Or really early. Still dark anyways. Maybe nobody'll notice.
Pavel is surprised enough by the question that he's largely silent as Bella fills in the thing that is known as Alex. Still, he thinks for a time, and answers, "Ah.. mahny peepohl. Mahny tehns of szouzands, Pavel szeenk. Noht knov fohr shoyr." He glances down at his meekly-statured companion, perhaps about to introduce her - but doesn't. Only offers a little shrug, that's her place if she wants to give out her name. "Cahn go een, meet peepohl. Boot, bahrs, cloobs prohbably too smahl fohr yoo. Yoo ahr vyery... hooge." The large man opens his arms wide. A large bag of something sits next to him, partially hidden in two feet of snow.
There's a light bobbing along in the darkness, a glowing orb atop a short staff that seems to illuminate the holder more than light a path. Ken's pale greyish-pink body seems ten feet tall, nearly walking atop the snow as he crunches along the landing pad. He pauses, peering up and lowering that glowing orb to watch a Sky King blast along the runway in its descent, and he raises a fist to cheer in a congratulatory 'Woohoo!' at the noisy craft before turning back to continue on his way. Mostly towards the group of meat Popsicles chilling on the flight line.
Alex's head shakes in the negative to disway the confusion then returns to vertical position. "No no, that’s obvious. You say that it's not drug addicts and demon worshipers, or not just those. So who is it then?"
"Lotsa kindsa people?" Bella shrugs. Dunno what Alex's askin really. Or how ta answer more 'n that. So she looks over at woohoos instead. And big blobby things that're doin the whoohooin. Points at it too. "Like 'im." Sure. That sounds good.
"Mahny peepohls. All peepohls," Pavel says with a shrug of his giant shoulders. At least, fairly giant for an apparent human. "Mahgeek, psykeek, tehknohlohgy. Vyery mahny speecees of peepohl." He shrugs and offers the best word that he can to explain it. Unfortunately, it's in his native tongue: "kosmopolit." A bouncing glowing blob is something that he can ignore for now, as the huge talking construct is new and very interesting. Vyery, vyery interesting.
"Takzhe vstretilsya tovarishch!" Ken greets the largest human amongst the group. He's similarly peering at 'Alex,' poking that short staff down towards the saucer's undercarriage to get a better look. He asks a question, from the sound of things, but the language is similarly Russian.
Alex turns as something nears and looks to regard it with the face. "Things like that?" He asks with a gesture to the Play-Doh manshape. Of course who am I to talk, I'm a freakin toaster. Sorry, force of habit." He intones to the mass before leaning forward to offer his hand. "Everyone seems rather friendly and here I am droning Coalition training."
Bella ain't got no idea what anybody said. 'Cept fer Alex. Maybe a li'l bitta Pavel. 'N it'sa metal one't gets her smirkin. "Coalies? They the ones't glued yer butt onna flyin thing? I'd be kinda pissed." Course floaty robo things round here ain't so bad. Or blobby boy. Then maybe people ain't gonna be thinkin she's weird.
Pavel turns at the sound of his own language, and does his best to do what he always tries to do - speak American, so that he can fit in. A hand is raised. "Allo, Ken. Good meet, cohmrahd." His gaze is caught by the words 'Coalition training' though. But not much. Either he doesn't care, or he hasn't had much contact. Or maybe he agrees with them. He just listens to Bella, letting the small girl do the big talking for now.
Ken's head tilts to the right, his knees bending as he ducks and peers under that saucer. The hand coming up for him to shake seems to catch the semi-nude man-ish thing by surprise, though he takes it with a curious look and accepts the shake. His hand compresses faintly under pressure, like the middle of a sealed tube of toothpaste. Bella's voice sends Ken's head left, then right, and finally down as he searches for her and reverts to American. "Goddamn, little Miss, didn't mean ta step on ya down there. Yer jus' 'bout buried, ain't ya?"
Alex seems to squint at the doughy figure, cocking its head back and forth to regard it better before pulling back to hover with the disc flat towards ken and all the tools arrayed. "Do you prefer to address this side of me? I'm perfectly capable, have a full optic system in this black dome." He says, a tool arm gesturing to the center as it's torso turns to regard Bella. "No actually it attached me to itself oddly enough."
"Ow. Bet that hurt." Bella makes a face. Could be about the attachin stuff thing. Or maybe the li'l black dome thing under Alex's. Uh. Whatever that is. Yeah. She don't say nothin more.
Rather than grilling the.. man? Woman? Androgynous piece of living machinery? Rather than grilling it about its past, Pavel takes a happier, more current vision of things. "Alex, good nehm. Fohr Keengsdehle.. vohrk? Lookeeng fohr sohmvahn? Szehr ahr joocehrs szat oose droogs, da, boot no strehnge as so you seh. Droog usehrs, dehmon vohrsheepahrs. Vell, smahll, da. Boot szees ees yeveryvehr, da? Ahl ceeties." He give Bella a slight bop on the back of her neck. "Mahny peepohl seh nehm, vyery fryendly fohr so hyelp."
Ken shrugs at Bella, peering up at Ken again. "Sounds handy," he agrees about the optics, though maybe he's looking at all those tool arms. He reaches back for the one that he shook, peering at the underside of Alex more than a little rudely. But then, maybe he isn't just looking up under 'his' skirt.
The hand that shook Ken's is attached to Alex's torso actually, so currently out of reach baring elastic stretching. The creation doesn't seem at all bothered by the goo things inspection so far, seeming to focus on Pavel and Bella for the moment. "Work would be great. Though I'm a bit skeptical on my qualifications. You don’t pay a car to drive you places. I'm basically a talking machine shop, I work, sure. But have no mouth to feed or rent to pay. Maintain me and I will serve thee well I guess."
Bella eyes Pavel. After gettin hit inna neck. "Hey. Knock't off." She thinks bout walkin off. But she's gotta move up outta the snow first. So she does. "Betcha find somebody pay ya fer somethin. Fixin stuff. Whatever." That's fer Alex. Then she starts trudgin fer the city. Gettin a li'l weird. Even fer her. Gettin kinda late too. And it's freezin 'n snowin out.
Pavel watches his tiny friend trudge off, calling "Bella cahn see ohn shohldehrs? Steh noht een cohld snov?" He doesn't force the issue, however. Rather asking, "Your poorpose, szen, ees seemehalrh fohr me? Hyelp peepohl, noht need vyery mooch fohr do?" He steps a short distance closer. "Ees mehbe ohkeh Pavel tooch? Laheek mehtals, vyery eentehresteeng." He pauses, and adds, "Pajalsta?" Ken's poking and prodding is watched without comment.
Ken's arm stretches waaaay out, grabbing that hand again, his eyes glazed over in a lost sort of look. His body sways back and forth in the thin breeze, and with a shiver his arm lets go to point at that collection of tools. "Ya was made ta create," he points out. "What'cha built so far?" A foot taps on the snow, compacting it only slightly. Ken's broad feet don't sink very far at all.
As Bella departs Alex rotates again to nestle back to vertical before Pavel and Ken. The black and white head tilts to one side suggesting contemplation. "Create? I haven’t had time to create anything. I just escaped from my personal escort to a Chi town vault where I would be dissected and forgotten. But you raise an interesting question. I thought these tools were reminiscent of my skills before the integration. Please, continue."
As Alex doesn't pull away when he asks about touching, Pavel allows his right hand to roam over the surface of the saucer for a while. His eyes are sharp on the object, glistening with interest. Now and then he makes a 'hmm,' 'oh,' or similar small noise before pulling his hand away and backing his entire body off a polite distance. "Alex, yoo ahr... so noht ahlvehs frohm Eahrsz? Szat vhy Cohaleetion vhant to daheesect yoo? Noht good, no." The large man shakes his head. "Ees ehlien fohr ahl pahrts, ohr ohnly.. ah.." he waves his hand at the saucer and tools that he'd touched, as he can't comment on the torso portion.
That catches Ken's attention. He looks sideways at Pavel, a faint frown on his lips, blue eyes staring at the shorter man. Well, shorter only for being stuck in a snow drift! "Alla that," he waves at the lower body, "was made ta create. Create what, I guess is all up ta you. Seems ta me nobody would put all that effort in an' not check up sometime, so I guess ya gotta choice before ya. You can decide ta put all them tools ta use, build things an' hope it's good enough fer whatever comes knockin', or ya can say 'Fuck it' an' put a gun in all them hands fer that fateful day."
Alex's head shakes in negative at Pavel. "No no, I'm from Chi-Town. This um monstrosity I've accidentally hijacked is from who knows where." Alex replies before nodding to Ken. "That is a very good point. It never occurred to me to acknowledge that I am in fact someone else's property. Another's investment that they expect return from. I'm not sure what i should make of that just yet."
"No!" Pavel says with some force. "Alex, I see. Ess hees ovn mahn." Apparently a gender has been assigned, if for no reason other than ease of discussion. "Alex cahn choose; eef noht, ees ohnly slehve. Be own pehrsohn. Mehk ovn laheef." The large humanoid smiles widely, "Mehbe geet job vohrk veet mechahneek heer, or veet Pavel sohmtaheems, even." He walks close enough that he can poke Alex's saucer. "Moost choose, be ovn mahn. Does not ansvehr to ahnyvohn else!"
Ken laughs at that, throwing back his head in a raucous display with hands on his hips. "'Course he's gonna choose!" Ken agrees. "he ain't gotta choice but ta decide what the hell he's gonna do inna morning! But seems ta me it'd be a damn shame ta have all that an' decide he wants, after all, ta glue on a wig an' be a pop diva."
Alex's demeanor shifts, looking offended and aggressive as it wickedly whips around in a short fit with very menacing tools. "Do I look like a man to you?! I am no man, I'm a freaking washer dryer combo. I slice and I dice but I cannot paint any great work of art. I am an appliance like any other, doomed to a scrap heap once my warranty expires." The robot laments, calming down as it does. "How would I find my warranty details you suppose?"
Pavel steps back, just be sure that he's out of the way of those tools. That'd hurt. Maybe. "Oh. Vell. Even a brohken vahtch ees raheet tvaheece a deh? Vhat means 'slaheece ahnd daheece'? Mehbe can vohrk, hyelp Pavel veet mohr ehlectrohneek szeengs?" He points what is intended to be a helpful finger. "Ehvehry szeeng has poorpose. Alex be pehtient, cohm to ceety, mehk friends - faheend Alex pooprpose. Ohnly taheem to be spehnt, da?" Ken's helpful input isn't addressed or ignored.
Ken doesn't step back, perhaps to his peril. He's still leaning in curiously, watching the much larger Alex whirl about. "Do I look like a man?" he asks unhelpfully, and tries another tactic. "There's a bar in town, the Nut an' Bolt. Bunch'a mechanics, borgs, that kinda thing there. Bet you can't find a willin' someone ta get yer, ah..." he kneels, looking under Alex again. "Yer tentacles um..." His brow furrows, clay-like face in obvious consternation. "Maybe not wet, but you'll have a good time!" He pops back up, nodding helpfully.
Alex shrugs, looking interested enough in Pavel's suggestion. "Sure, need something to do after all." The robot concedes before turning to regard Ken again. "A bar? Would I fit? I'm rather broad at the hips of late you see. But if good conversation is to be had at any location I wont resist. But I do want to see this city some first, seeing as dawn is upon us its a bit early for the revelry. So maybe later today?"
Big Pavel nods, and reaches toward his bag. "Veel geht vyery boosy heer, soon. Go fohr ceety nov, trahffeek on street gehts vyery lahrge. Pavel hahppy fohr hyelp show, vhen bahk frohm home." He finally looks over to Ken. "I do noht szeenk Alex vould feet en bahr. Ahny bahr."
Ken shrugs, a rolling of the shoulders that sends light from his staff playing along the snow and up his pinkish-grey torso. It's almost translucent in the coming dawn. "Dunno 'bout the door. They got the better part of an Enforcer in that place, drinkin' outta a mug 'bout as big as you. So maybe. Jus' be sure ya order a couple kegs an' tip well, seein' as how you'd be takin' up a table's worth."
Alex's head shakes again. "Why? Don’t drink, don’t eat either. A tip I could do if I had any money. But I don’t. So I'll stick to the necessities for the moment." The robot decides and accelerates away to give the City a good flyby.
Pavel lifts his large sack just as Alex the unusual George Jetson-Imperial Probe Droid-Terminator Torso zips off to he city. "Ah. Vyeyr veird, yes?" He's looking at Ken now. "Noht sure vher he veel faheend good laheef."
Ken looks back towards Pavel, a small gap in his shoulder filling in as he looks at the beefier man. Maybe he was too close to Alex after all! Ken seems to not have noticed. "That's damn depressin'. He ain't never gonna go hungry, be cold, be the prey of most things on this planet, an' he ain't never gonna find himself useless, an' yer still wonderin' if he's gonna find himself a good life." Oddly, as he watches Pavel, his language begins to creep over into Russian. Continuing in the larger man's native tongue, he says, << Everyone should be so 'cursed'. >>
Pavel's eyebrow creeps up. << Russian? Okay. I would rather experience hunger, and cold, the danger of knowing that I am mortal, and the constant need to make something of myself to be useful to society in any way that I can. He didn't sound too happy with his life. Not that I've known him for more than thirty minutes. >> The blacksmith shrugs elaborately. << Life isn't the absence of troubles - it's the presence of finding their solutions. >> A sage nod follow up that little nugget.
Ken's Russian isn't terribly literate. It's terribly conversational, but certainly good enough to get by. His accent, if anything, echoes Pavel's. << He seemed to have troubles enough. Just not the same troubles. Perhaps his greatest one will be ... the search for meaning. >> Ken steps across the snow, his shoulder fully filled in and as good as new. << He's still human. It's what defines us. When you get your nose out of it, the base troubles of subsistence, you have to ask; what am I doing? Why? He just gets a shortcut. His life does not have to be defined by his next meal and a warm bed. >>
The other man frowns. << I figured that the existential, 'meaning of life' part could be ignored as obvious. >> Pavel shakes his head, shifting he weight of his bag across his shoulders. << He is the one who stated that he had no purpose in life, not I. But I don't envy him the experience of *not* experiencing all of life that was put here for us. Mortality doesn't define you, but it makes life sweet. It's like these kids that I've seen playing games where their little characters are immune to being hurt - where is fun in that, unless they just want to jump to the end? >>
Ken's growing more agitated. He steps towards Pavel, that staff flaring brighter as he holds it high to catch them both in its white glow. << But he can find meaning! Just because he does not see it now does not mean he's without hope! Maybe it doesn't matter, not here, not in this ... >> Ken looks up, and waves the staff, indicating something more than the landing strip on which they stand. << But it can matter to him. And he can find pleasure, even if he doesn't see it yet. Maybe he's just too alien for you to understand from your limited perspective. I never knew you could be so small. >> Ken seems rather offended, whirling to stalk off towards the plain and the trees beyond, away from Kingsdale.
Pavel is interested, then amused. He just allows the other man to depart without words to him. Of course, he does mumble to himself about the other fellow being an idiot, because that's basically what his own argument had been. What can you expect from a blob? He hefts his sack once more and heads toward the city gates, where he will eventually turn north and then east for home.
