Inventory

[8wings.livejournal.com]

When she volunteered to help with doing inventory in Engineering, Anwei has optimistically expected that all items not already identified would be in their own section. No such luck. Instead there were metal and ceramic and resinous and other mysterious oddments strewn throughout the storage areas. And she couldn't move all the unidentifiables into one section, because there was no clear place to put them. But as she went from shelf to wall to shelf to table to floor, she did find enough things that she could hang a description, a function, or even just a guess on that it seemed worthwhile to keep going.

So she's keeping to the less trafficked sections, working her way through the inventory, and updating on her omnicomm as she goes.

Comments

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

Karis digs through an assortment of metals, muttering to herself. "...no. No. Don't they have anything useful...? Well, steel, I guess. Can use that..."

The zombie pops up with a armful of base metals - well as much as she can carry without overloading herself. She's apparently been digging around a lot. She catches sight of Anwei and yells over at her.

"Hey! You know where they keep chemicals and crap? Need to see if they have anything useful. Like explosives."

[8wings.livejournal.com]

Anwei flinched for a moment at the sight of the other woman's face. She was - no, she wasn't a member of her species. The wide mouth had fooled her, but no adult would have teeth pointed like that.

"Don't think there's anything off-the-shelf in the way of explosives here," she replied. "Anything like that probably went into the Armory. And any chemicals you do find may be too old to be useable. Be prepared to test 'em."

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

It's the miracle of a file, a suppressed pain sense and too much time on your hands. Really, though, there was also the faint stench of rot that seemed to follow Karis around. She groused, eying the storage area.

"...shit, really? How the Hell am I supposed to build grenades without explosives...?"

[8wings.livejournal.com]

Now if Karis had looked like a nine-year-old, Anwei would have fled at once. Children of her species were toothy, carnivorous, and not picky about what they ate.

"Grenades for general use or specialized? You could build the casings now, plan if you want frag or stun or something else. Maybe trade for the chemicals later, or cook them up yourself. I haven't seen any launchers - they're probably down in the Armory too."

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

"General use, really. Might some frost grenades if I get a chance, though..." Karis rubbed her chin thoughtfully. There were always goblin sapper charges. Or repairbots. Yeah, repairbots might be nice.

[8wings.livejournal.com]

Frost grenades. That was an interesting thought. Maybe use them for meat you'd be taking back for your locker.

Almost without thinking, Anwei started to subtly tweak her speech to mimic the other woman's. It was an old habit. "You'll want to check where you can store 'em, too. Had a terrible time once with a recruit who brought in a whole bag of fluffy pink grenades, because on his planet fluffy pink things were dangerous, right? Locked 'em up, then another recruit picked the lock looking for food, handed the grenades around and - boom!" She mimed an explosion, and then the debris raining down.

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

"Store 'em? Hell! I'll be wearing the damn things. Not like I'm letting anyone else get near these things..." Karis scoffed, laughing. "Shit, serves that guy right for digging through someone else's locker, huh? Nah... I'll figure something out. Thanks, though."

She hefted the armful of scrap metal. Ah, the joys of never feeling tired. "Who the hell eats something that's fink and fluffy anyway? Probably poisonous or some crap..."

[8wings.livejournal.com]

"Watch where you dump the chemical residue, though. Don't want Stacy to decide that you're trying to poison her." Anwei doubted that any normal volume of poisonous chemicals would affect the ship. Well, maybe certain nerve poisons, if you had enough of it. Not that she would try calculating how much would be enough.

"Recruits? They'll eat anything. Thought they were candy, or coconut clusters, or something. Prob'ly eat their shoes if they weren't synthetics. Anyway, hey, good luck with the grenades."

[teethofneedles.livejournal.com]

"The ship can bite my dead, rotting ass. Like Hell I'm listening to it or this stupid council. It's got no hold on me, see?"

And here she was appropriating things from engineering. Woops.

"What the hell kind of recruits you have? Ogres?"

[8wings.livejournal.com]

Dead and rotting? She really needed to go try and figure out the linguistic baseline for Stacy's translator engine. "She can get a hold on you, though. One swift tentacle toss and out the airlock!" She waved her hand to indicate the walls and ceiling, all packed dense with black-green coils that occasionally twitched.

"Sorry, I didn't introduce myself, did I? Anwei Ayles, with the Vizsnunishne Mercenaries. They were - are - one of the largest transdimensional merc outfits, and we took in recruits from any race, just sorted them into ships where the atmosphere, gravity and biospectrums matched. And they'd be trainin' harder than they ever had in their lives, usually. So they'd get hungry, and they'd start seeing what was edible: decorative plants, organiform chairs, leather garments, and anything else that wasn't latched down. It got to be a contest eventually: who could eat what."