trans_9 | Talk About Timing...

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Talk About Timing...

While chaos was going on in the city, a level below the Living Areas, the rest of the ship was functioning normally. Stacy, apparently oblivious to goings on in the city, likely do to her malfunctioning sensors there, carried on with ship business.

||Pod Release Protocols Initating,|| Stacy's familiar voice sounded out to the upper levels, though no one was there to hear her. They were all downstairs, fighting for their lives against giant cockroaches.

In the Pod Caverns, there were the sounds of: Pop. Pop pop pop. Poppuhpoppoppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiiiissssss.

The usual condensation and mist sprayed out from cracks in the pods, they ripped open and the people inside slid out onto the floors, covered in slime. One of them, due to his mechanical nature, slid out covered in a sort of oil mixture, in a smaller body than he'd once had.

Pop. Poppop. KASCHUNKhiiiiiissss.

There was no one already freed from the ship to greet them, only Stacy herself, and the empty silence of a ship caught in the middle of a crisis.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"I don't think I'm a good guy--I am one." He adds. "And what can I say? A sparkling personality like your own brings out the very best in me."

"Piece of advice sweet mint cheeks? Leave the snarkasm to those who're actually good at it. Go calculate a septadic equation or some junk, okay?"

"Did you just make that word up? To sound smart? Right in front of me?"

"Umm, it's called playing with words. Look it up." She flicked his forehead lightly.

He makes an indignant squeaking sound when she flicks him. (Not to mention, a Kryptonian flick is kinda hard.

"It's called 'I am Brainiac Five and I know every word,' so if you make any up, I'll be able to tell."

He looks for a way out. The lights lead thataway.

"Right. Because you know every word ever used." Kara shakes her head. "Language changes, not-really-twelvewit. So does slang." She lets him lead, following right behind him. "This place is weird."

"Slang isn't language--it's the gibbering of idiots, and mercifully, it gets wiped out of existence with the progression of time."

He walks out into what looks like a tube. Immediately the floor starts moving under their feet, carrying them up through the tube.

"Hmm. Anti-grav lift. If they managed to construct a biological system capable of creating this, that's incredible."

"You mean like spork? A spork is an eating utensil, by the way. Half spoon, half fork. Kind of like how you're half ignoramus and half idiot, but whole ignoramus and whole idiot instead." She listens to his technobabble. "Do you do anything else besides talk science and insult pretty girls?"

He rolls his eyes. "I said 'sprock' earlier. A spork is--"

He pauses.

"--actually it's brilliant in his simplicity. And I'll inform you of the latter the moment I meet any pretty girls that aren't shrill and nescient."

Yes, he did just inadvertently imply that she's pretty. Annoying and dumb, but pretty.

"Oh, that. Is. It." Kara glared striding up to him. "I'm going to make you eat slime, spanky."

He crosses his arms and glares right back at her as the platform shoots them up the transport tube.

"I don't see why you're angry--you're the one that started this...hostility."

His memory is a little selective in regards to his own sarcasm.

"I'm sorry? I'm the wo - oh hell no!" Clearly, Kara's been watching a lot of Queen Latifah and Beyonce. "You're the fool that started it! Jeez! I mean, you're like...just..." Kara shook. "So. Infuriating. I don't know if I wanna punch you or ki - aaah - kick you!"

Wait, what had she been about to say? N-never mind. Kick. She'd meant kick.

"There are more pressing matters as hand, so for now, I propose we put our hostilities aside. As there undoubtedly will be a computer system in need of hacking or need for one of us to be capable of operating this ship and its technology, you need my brain; and as there are possibly hostiles on board that may be responsible for our captivity, I need your body."

He starts in surprise and corrects himself a nanosecond later. "Brawn. I need your brawn."

Then looks away, flushing. He never misspeaks. This girl is doing something odd to alter his behavior. What's happening to him?

They're shot into the Hub, a huge cavern with holes all over, seemingly suspended in the air, and shot into another transport tube.

A multitude of answers shot from Kara's brain to her tongue.

Instead, perhaps wisely, she held her tongue this time.

A small smile rises to her lips, though. My body, huh? Dork.

It's likely a little clearer to her why he's been so snarky. Classic 'pull on the pretty girl's pigtails' playground behavior, just all verbal. He, on the other hand, despite his massive intellect, has no idea why he's feeling slightly ill around her. Increased sweat gland production, shortness of breath, inability to concentrate...

Is there some sort of airborne contagion on the ship? That's an alarming possibility...

In between twiddling his fingers--for lack of an omnicom to keep his hands busy--he notices her smile.

"What's so amusing?"

"What?" Kara asks, turning her head to look at him. "Nothing. Just...you're such a guy. I mean, a total pansy in some ways. But...such a guy."

"A pansy? I can't believe you'd cling to such 20th century Earth notions that intellectualism and intelligence are an indication of a lack of intrepidity or masculinity--not that I should even be subject to human gender roles given I'm an entirely different species."

He crosses his arms again. "As for the rest, I have no idea what you're talking about. Yes, I am a male, and I hope you don't want applause for stating the obvious."

"You know, sweetie," Kara artificially cooed. "For such a smart guy...you've got all the common sense of a flat Diet Soder."

"That analogy was hardly cogent."

They were now fwooshed into a room that had tons and tones of racks of stuff. A warehouse that went miles and miles.

"What is this, Stacy? A repository for the belongings of everyone you have trapped in stasis?"

||The Weapons and Possessions Lockers.||

He immediately starts looking for his stuff. "If you see a small computer about this tall by this wide--" he holds his hands to show the size and shape of something about the size of a calculator. "--or a ring with the letter 'L' on it, point them out to me."

"Do we get our uniforms back too?" Kara asked. The...thing...she was wearing was ridiculously uncomfortable. And weird.

She looked through some of the stacks and picked up whatever she found that belonged to her.

"Umm, is your computer a specific color?"

||Negative.||

They're stuck with the clothes. But accessories like belts are there--she might find a certain yellow belt and belt-loops do form in the bodysuits when necessary. No boots or shoes though.

"Aha!" Brainy lifts his belt off of a shelf, with much of his standard equipment and tools attached to it like they always are. And over there is his omnicom. There's even a trans-suit, transparent and durable that goes over whatever he's wearing to make him space capable. He tugs it on over the plant suit, where it seals and appears to disappear, then puts on his belt, picks up his omnicom, and uses it to scan for--

There it is.

Brain tucks his omnicom into its holder on his belt for a moment, picking up his flight ring and putting it on, immediately floating several feet in the air to make sure nothing has made it go inert.

"Much better," he says, taking his omnicom out again.

Kara grumbled and searched the room until her eyes fell on...

"Oh thank you."

She picked up her yellow belt - with an S-shield buckle - and slid it through the newly formed loops of her outfit-thing. Next came her cape, which she also threw onto her back. It fit with her bodysuit perfectly.

"Can I at least change the colour of this thing? Maybe throw on the crest of the family of El?"

Yes, she's a girl. She likes to match.

"How are you related to Superman?" Brainy asks, typing like crazy into his omnicom. "I had assumed from your last name, but much cultural information about Kryptonians, such as naming schemes, has been lost by my time. I can't use it to place the exact relation."

"I'm his cousin," Kara replies as-a-matter-of-factly. "On Krypton, when we're born, the girls take their father's name as their surname. My father..." There's a moment of silence where her face grows cold and impassive. Her eyes though...they come to life, and not with merriment or snark. They're haunted. Sad. "My father was Zor-El, brother to Jor-El. If I marry another Kryptonian - which won't, like, happen since there aren't any left - I would take his family's name as my last name. So, y'know, if Drif-Sel had actually ever liked me and we'd gotten married, my name would've been Kara-Sel." A pause. "Maybe that name wasn't the best example..."

It's entirely possible that he transcribed all she said--after all, Krypton had long since been dead, and much of the historical information about it forgotten. Information like that should be preserved, just as Trom's lore and history should be as well.

"How did you survive?"

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