phantasmalrift | making this cold harbor now home

making this cold harbor now home

Who: Sawbones Jetshard and open!
What: Several around-the-station open prompts, first week of March.
Warnings: Third prompt involves blood and routine medical testing.

A - March 2, Common room, ~1 A.M.

[It's still a little surprising to Jetshard how quiet it is in the middle of the night around here; it's not unheard of for others to be up and around at this hour, of course, but in a troll community the aftermidnight hours would be the busiest part of the day.

Anyway, it feels vaguely antisocial to spend too much time shut up in her quarters, even if her sleeping schedule doesn't seem to coincide with most others', so she's currently camped out in the common room, sitting crosslegged on one of the couches with a large, dense book open in her lap and her tablet computer balanced on one knee. Ever so often, she taps something into the tablet.]

B - March 5, East Residential Hallway, ~7 P.M.

Aw, shit, no...

[The exclamation - more disappointed than alarmed, almost resigned - is accompanied by a faint clatter from inside the open door of Apartment #1. A smallish disk-shaped robot with a largish knife taped to the top trundles out of the room and down the hall toward the kitchen - maybe a bit faster than might be expected of a troll roomba. A moment later, Jetshard follows, stocking-foot and damp haired. She looks both ways at the door before spotting the device and giving chase. Hopefully it hasn't found any ankles yet...?]

C - March 7, Medbay, ~9 P.M.

[Jetshard sits on the edge of a cot in the medical bay, a combination of her own kit and some supplies she's scrounged up in here spread out next to her. She's turned away from the door; although she hasn't bothered to pull the curtains and hide herself from view, she's also kind of sheilding what she's doing with her body as she draws a vial of jade-green blood from her arm.

There's no real reason why she needs to be in here for this, except that there's something comforting about keeping medical things to the medical bay. It feels... safer somehow. Less vulnerable.]

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[By now, Jetshard has probably become aware that the sleeping habits of humans (well, okay, chiefly one human) are not nearly as potentially sleep-violent as trolls.

Which is to say, guess who was napping on the couch across the common room, long legs peaked over an armrest and a blanket over his shoulder?

Yep.]

Mmmmnnn...

[The blanket shifts, Izunia shoving it back with one arm as he starts to sit up. A series of sleepy blinks follows, and then he gives Jetshard a sleepy little wave.]

'Morning.

Why the hell is this thing targeting me!

[Misfortune was an everyday occurrence for Touma. This typically ranged from tripping over random objects to vending machines malfunctioning and eating his money. Today was no exception. The spiky-haired teen was currently marooned on one of the armchairs in the common room thanks to a certain malicious roomba. He had sought higher ground in order to escape its deadly knife and ended up getting trapped. Touma watched in despair as the murderous cleaning robot circled around his chair like a hungry predator stalking its prey.]

[Aaaand that'd be a shriek of pain.]

OW OH NINE HELLS WHAT IS THAT GOLEM WE'RE UNDER ATTACK!!!

[... Yup, it got her ankle. Pretty good, based on the blood on her boot, though she's not limping on one leg. ~~Was Jetshard aware of Pidonus' minor regeneration yet? This'd be an odd way to find out.~~

Regardless, Pidonus has launched herself onto the ceiling, holding onto a rafter for dear life.]

IT CAN'T FLY CAN IT?!!?!? SOMEONE HELP!!!!

[She looks up from her reading, glances at the clock readout on her tablet screen, and chuckles.] Still a few hours off from that, by most people's estimation, I think?

Diurnal cultural greeting, my dear, don't be so literal.

[Properly sitting up, now, and... pulling a steaming cup of coffee out of his Armiger. Success!]

[Luckily, Jetshard's not terribly far behind, although when she sees that the weaponized cleaning drone has Touma effectively trapped, she pauses briefly and sighs, burying her face in one hand. She only spends a short moment questioning her life and everything that brought her to this moment, though, and proceeds to walk over and plant one foot firmly on top of the robot, just behind the handle of the knife.

It is, after all, pretty much just a roomba; a little pressure is sufficient to pin it to the ground and immobilize it.]

Sorry about that. Fumbled my sylladex trying to pull something else out.

[Follow the sound of screaming to find Martinet Wishgore the Motorized Scourcontraption. It's almost like being back at the rebel base, in exactly the ways that Jetshard is just as glad not to be back at the rebel base.

Unfortunately, with the robot's victim on the ceiling and therefore no longer a target, the little vacuum is now circling erratically in the middle of the room and occasionally making sad beeping noises. Jetshard's pretty sure that's not normal troll roomba behavior, but then, she's suspected for a while that Ammond and Chanry did something to the programming of this one before they attached the knife to it.]

Thankfully, flight's one trick the girls who weaponized it didn't think to give it. Give me a moment, I'll corner it.

That Construct-type terror is yours?!

[STAY ON THE CEILING OH GODS WHY]

What is even...?!

Ah.

[She turns a page, although her attention's not entirely on her reading now; the play of light as he pulls the coffee out of apparently nowhere catches her eye.] I was starting to wonder if everyone else here was limited to what they could carry in their physical pockets.

H-hey, don't look at me like that! That little bastard snuck up on me and nearly sliced my ankle! I could have been seriously injured! Just because its small doesn't make any less deadly!

[Feeling flustered and stupid from how easily Jetshard defeated his robotic adversary, Touma tries to stammer out an excuse in a desperate attempt to salvage his dignity.]

Edited 2018-03-06 07:29 (UTC)

Hardly.

[He takes a nice long drink from the mug, sliding his knees off the armrest to sit something resembling properly on the couch.]

I know a few of the younger group have something similar - it just seems that most aren't as casual about it as I am about my Armiger.

I didn't mean to let it out! And I didn't make it, I took it away from the little assholes who let it loose on the last place I was living...

[Maybe if she can get behind it enough that she stays out of whatever passes for its field of vision?]

[She shrugs.] Sylladices are pretty ubiquitous where I come from, but people here keep being startled when I captchalogue or retrieve something from mine.

It's exclusive to my family and sworn retainers of such on Eos; I can't speak for anyone else, but my impression is that it is probably even less common there.

[He shrugs in return, a halfway grand gesture for the arm that isn't holding a coffee mug.]

Not common enough to have any particular terminology for it, certainly.

Oh, no, don't worry, I understand. It managed to wound at least four people before I trapped it and got it into my sylladex in the first place.

[She stoops and picks the roomba up, careful to keep her fingers clear of the knife but not, otherwise, taking a great deal of caution in how she handles it; the motor whines a bit as it revs in protest at being picked up.]

The damn thing would be less infuriating if it wasn't so ridiculous.

[Touma relaxes a little once Jetshard secures the roomba. With the threat of ankle stabbing gone, he repositions himself on the armchair to something more comfortable and stretches out his legs.]

Why did you seal it inside your sylladex like it was some kind of immortal Demon Lord instead of permanently disabling it? Can't you just remove its batteries? Or at the very least, get rid of the knife?

Every child on Alternia uses a sylladex, although not generally to very good effect. [The gimmick fetch modi. Mothers help her, the gimmick fetch modi.] Yours seems to function a little differently, though. Most fetch modi display at least a portion of the inventory while the user interacts with it.

I was going to, and then something else came up, and I had enough empty cards in the sylladex that I didn't immediately need to free this one up.

[The roomba beeps. She sighs.]

Also, they named it, and now for some reason I feel bad about taking it apart.

Mmm, no, the Armiger doesn't display any contents except under an extremely small handful of highly specific circumstances. I can figure out what's in there with some concentration, at least, otherwise I might have had some serious difficulties upon arriving here.

[Armiger modus is just a very sparkly Array, tbh.]

Look, I don't understand the significance behind it being named or what that means to you, but that shouldn't have prevented you from making sure it couldn't harm anyone. The fact it managed to escape its prison due to a mistake means it's possible for this incident to repeat. Four people have already been injured according to you and it would have claimed more victims if it wasn't so focused on stabbing me. It's not like you had to smash it to bits. All you needed to do was remove the knife. You've had more than enough time to disarm it since arriving here. Leaving it intact inside your inventory was kind of a careless thing to do.

[He glances at the little robot with an irritated look.]

So, were the ones who armed this cleaning robot close to you or are you just a really sentimental person?

Someone used the Craft Construct feat for that?!?!

You have some really evil people back home!

[Astolfo idly wanders into the Medbay. He hadn't needed to go there since arriving- nor does he expect he will- but general restlessness and curiosity has him checking it out at this hour anyway. Lucky for him, there's someone there too!

He leans in over the Troll's shoulder and gives a friendly wave.]

Hey-! What're you doing here?

[Aya feels exactly the same way about the whole antisocial business. It's unbecoming of a reporter to not do the legwork yourself, after all.

It's just that, well, with so few people around it's something of a slow news cycle.]

Hard at work, are we?

[Medics belong in the medbay, it's true. Which is why Strange is here as usual, leaning over their desk with a scalpel and some kind of something when Jetshard arrives.

After a few minutes, though, there's the sound of footsteps and an android approaching.]

Need a hand?

Someone used eighteen inches of duct tape, some epoxy, a knife, and a perfectly good cleaning drone for this.

[The roomba comes after her but doens't get the angle quite right; the blade glances off her boot, scratching the leather but not penetrating to her foot. Before it can turn and make another run at her, she hooks her toe under the protruding knife and flips the whole thing over onto its back.

There's something vaguely baleful about the way it spins its little brushes in the air.]

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making this cold harbor now home

March 2

March 5

March 5th

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March 7

oh boy, 1 AM (march 2)

Mar 7

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