trans_9 | [unsick party @ my carrier ship]

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[unsick party @ my carrier ship]

With the little house she’d been fixing in the City quarantined, Sheryl had made it her business to become intimately acquainted with the Quarter, and had happily discovered that it had a serviceable mess kitchen and crew bunks in the dustier parts of its bowels. A few hours in Hydroponics later, she’d assembled the materials for a serviceable break from ship-goo dinners, and now a respectable soup was finishing up on the oversized burners.

She let her hair down and sent off a brief omnicomm message and started pushing the worst of the dust off the little lounge’s tables before anyone from off Frontier could arrive.

[[ Dated to after podpop and during contagion plot, open to all. ]]

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Hangar? That caught Jr.'s interest, and now he wondered just what kind of fighter craft this Stacy held on her. Especially since he'd probably have to find something to take up arms in if the need for space-only combat, since his Asher was left in his own universe, deep within the Isolated Research Facility on Michtam.

Or so he thought.

Finding his way to the hanger after checking maps and asking for directions, he stared around in awe at all of the other machines. Gundams and mobile suits that seemed so close to his own A.M.W.S. and E.S., slightly smaller Knightmare frames that more resembled his old A.G.W.S., things that looked like those fighter jets from those awesome old movies Jr. loved so much to watch.

And then his breath caught in his throat when he saw it. The towering indigo E.S. that's been a constant part of his life-- from saving him from his set fate during the war, to being readjusted and modified to become his own years later.

"No way...!"

As the Quarter's cameras picked up motion outside the ship, she took the soup off the heat, slipped on her shoes, and made her way up to the flight deck. There was someone she didn't recognize down there -- new or just unfamiliar? She didn't have a way to tell -- gawking like a fish out of water. "Are you just going to stare?" she shouted down.

Jr. was about to sprint toward the Asher, but the voice calling down to him temporarily stopped him from doing so. Turning his head, he spotted Sheryl on the deck.

"--What?"

"I said -- are you just going to stare?"

"Oh ... that's the 'Quarter' then?" he asked, glancing between it and the newly-discovered Asher.

"None other."

"Well, uh." Yep, Jr. made up his mind fairly quickly.

"I'll be right up! I didn't know this was here," he spoke the second line more to himself as he ran over to the Asher, grabbing hold of the wire and moving up to the cockpit.

"You're really serious about having a party now, aren't you."

Duo had noted this little gathering coming together from where he was situated in Deathscythe Hell's cockpit down the hangar- towering over much of the area, he watched with curiosity as a rather delicious scent wafted towards him.

Peeking out of the cockpit, he spotted the lights on down the hangar, so to speak, and decided to get himself acquainted with his new neighbors. After all, he'd been told real food was rare on this ship; why not take advantage of it while he could?

After taking a lift down from Deathscythe's cockpit, he strolled towards the Quarter, peeking around the ship curiously. A large carrier, and not a design he could note seeing before; but at the same, not something totally foreign, either- not all that different from a mobile suit carrier, really. He wondered to himself what exactly the runways were for.

"Anyone home?" He called, polite enough to at least not invite himself in.

Not too long after Sheryl's initial omnicomm post and her setting up did Jr. finally show up, staring around the Quarter with a curious enthusiasm. He also seemed particularly elated about something, holding a foreign-looking device in one of his hands. Mixing and mingling was thankfully something he was good at, so he didn't skip a beat when he came across anybody new.

"Oh. Hey there."

"Some purple thing...?"

"It's not a party, it's a relief effort. Got it?"

"Yoohoo," she called, waving from around a corner. "Come in!"

"What's the difference?"

Michael arched an eyebrow at the young-looking boy - though the kid seemed to have an appreciation for good ships, anyway. "Hey. You new?"

"Some-- some purple thing?" He gave her such a look when she said that. "It's my craft!"

And then he'd disappear into the cockpit for a few minutes, hustling about inside to check its systems and see if it was working okay. A quick flash of the v-shaped scanners on its headpiece, and he emerged from it.

Since the Asher was all checked out, he hopped back down and made his way over to the Quarter, into where the rest of the crowd was. Carrying a strange little device with him, he looked around and waved a Sheryl when he spotted her.

"Yeah," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. He had a feeling he'd be hearing that one for the first few days at least. "Just woke up."

He pocketed his newfound craft's transfer device, giving another look around the room to emphasize his question. "What kind of ship is this?"

Purely out of curiosity, a boundless quality of his, Aibghalien had decided to investigate this message on the peculiar communications device, and had consequently gone looking for the Hangar.

Quite a mistake.

Now, teeth gritted, the wizard floated slowly through the depths of the machine-filled space. In each hand a wand tracked individual vehicles as he passed them. Every fiber seemed braced for an attack.

Someone was having a rough adjustment to ship life, in this one respect.

"Whatever it is, you're going to trip over something if you keep running around with food like that," Alto commented from the doorway.

Well that wasn't what he was expecting. With an (internal) low whistle he gave a friendly wave and stepped into the ship- not sparing it a good look-over as he did so.

"Heya! Guess you could say I'm a new neighbor? Ship's a beaut! Whatcha call her?" He called, striking up conversation immediately. Nice ship, nice girls.. he could get used to this whole 'bizarre meatship' thing.

"Finally."

"The Quarter," she said serenely.

"Hardly!" she cried, brandishing a spoon at him. "After years performing, do you really think I can't handle a little bit of food!"

She looked over her shoulder and caught a glimpse of the newcomer. "What's with the sour face?"

"Quarter, huh... nice name." Glancing around the ship some more, he finally turned his attention to Sheryl entirely.

"And how about yours?" He grinned. If she'd known Duo better already, she probably could have seen the lame come on forming a mile away.

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