trans_9 | Life's a Drag, Pun Intended [Open]

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Life's a Drag, Pun Intended [Open]

Finally having moved all the scrap he allotted for the day from the borders of the explored city to the little abandoned building he's calling The Warehouse, Howard nearly collapses onto the couch he's 'borrowed' from a neighboring, uninhabited house. After laying completely still for a few minutes, soaking in Stacy's downright weird artificial sun - though he guesses it's not much weirder than the FAYZ's - he sits back up and looks over today's haul.

A bedframe. About sixty pounds of various pieces of scrap metal, mostly aluminum this time, from the looks of it. Some PVC piping. A cardboard box full of jewelry, some of it looking expensive. Some weird alien cube that keeps making humming noises when it's not chirping. A dead iPod-ish computer thing. Corked bottles full of smokey, glowing substances. Walkie-Talkies with no batteries. Folding chairs. A box of gel pens. Flashlights. What looks like an alien ukulele. Something that may or may not be a magical wand. T-shirts with four arm-holes. An empty refrigerator that doesn't appear to work, but may be useful with a lock installed. Not that he'd have been able to get it here without the trolley he also kiped. And another plastic box full of various odds and ends. There's another mountain of stuff, slightly better organized, just behind The Warehouse's door.

Howard chews on the end of one of the gel pens and sings to himself as he starts sorting. It's probably nearing time for him to actually let other people come look through the stuff too. He cracks his neck and rubs one shoulder ruefully - skinny teenage bodies aren't made for dragging refrigerators.

"Spacey Stacy, give me your answer, do
You're totally crazy and more full of snot than the flu
Your food is a sloppish nightmare, but it's better than starving, I swear
It's not your fault, but could you use some salt? Because some spice is much overdue..."

(( OOC: Feel free to have your character find stuff in Howard's pile of junk, as long as it makes sense to have found in The City. ))

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This reference Zouichi does get, or he thinks he does.

"Thanks, Howard. Do you think you could have picked a creepier song for the occasion?" He looks around. "So, this is what you've been up to in your spare time. Quite a pile."

He hauled this here himself? Or did he ask for help?

"Not my fault 'Stacy' rhymes with 'Daisy'. Well, kind of." He shrugs, still slowly gnawing on the end of the pen. He looks almost suspiciously at Zouichi - the training session has been weighing heavily on his mind. Even more heavily than the stuff Orc should have been around to carry has been weighing on his arms. Ha, ha. It's funny except that it really isn't.

"Yeah. Been working on this every day. My back and shoulders have been murderin the morning. You can take a look through the stuff - it's free, but I get veto power. One of those flashlights is mine."

He finally stops chewing on the pen and wipes it off. "And I guess I've claimed this pen too."

"You'll get no argument from me." Zouichi isn't really interested in the pile of stuff, but he does give it a cursory look. "You know, if you need help doing any heavy lifting, I'm around. No point in injuring yourself, even if you are a medic." That refrigerator, for instance, he could have carried around one-handed. Yeesh, Howard, are you trying to kill yourself?

Howard's voice is more or less normal, but he's got this look on his face that makes it pretty clear he's remembering what happened. Which is fine; Zouichi remembers, too. But it makes things awkward, so he tries some humor.

"I'm sorry for making you cry the other day."

Okay, slightly sarcastic humor.

"When Orc gets here, he'll help out. I'm doing fine on my own now. See, I even made some trolleys and carts." He gestures dramatically over to the makeshift little creations he's made out of cardboard, twine, pipes and jars - they actually work fairly well, for something slapped together out of scrap. "Course, then I found a shopping cart and made them totally obsolete. Thought you'd be proud of me, since I'm not, what was it you said? 'Standing by and letting other people do my dirty work'?"

There's still a bit of soreness there, obviously, even as he shrugs it off. He presses the edge of the pen against the side of his face, twists his mouth a bit. "I'd say I'm sorry for punching you but you kind of asked for it," he jokes.

Ah. Not if, but when. What will you do if Orc never gets here, Howard?

Zouichi recognizes a dig when he hears one, but it doesn't particularly bother him. More proof that, under that congenial outward face, Howard is sometimes seething, circling, trying to find a tender spot in which to thrust a spur. Of course, it might be defense just as much as it was aggression: hurt the other party, hurt him hard and fast until he cannot get back up again and hurt you.

Zouichi rather thinks that dislike of physical violence aside, Howard has just the right mindset for lessons of survival.

"I was only trying to get you to put your heart into it," he says, which is only partly true. Part of him did mean what he said. And, as Howard had accused, a troubling part of him had gotten off of it. "I don't want you to be hurt because you were unprepared."

Deny the gaping emotional void, duh, Zou.

"Yeah, well, mission accomplished. Now I know exactly how to punch someone who's giving me a rundown of my flaws," he says peppily. "So how've you been today, Zou? Reduced any more teenagers to weeping messes?"

Despite the fact that he is still keenly aware of that tension, and still burned over it, that doesn't mean he can't still treat it like a big joke. In fact, it's a lot easier to compartmentalize it like that, something to tease Zouichi about rather than something that still hits home. Howard can always play on Zouichi's defensive reaction to getting called in his love for violence if he wants to try and get under Zouichi's skin.

After a beat, he says, "I forgive you, by the way. Probably."

"Yes, I took care of three this morning," Zouichi says, completely deadpan. "In fact, after this, I plan to ruin prom." Space prom!

Go ahead and laugh, Howard. ~~Just remember, Zouichi can crush your head.~~

Zouichi nods. "Thanks. Probably." That took him a bit by surprise, though it may not show on his face; people aren't really in the habit of bestowing forgiveness on him so directly. "So, have you been practicing?"

"Good for you. Teenagers are so annoying," he says with a giggle, fully aware of how hypocritical that sounds. It's not as if he can't be self-deprecating. And as much as the FAYZ forced kids out of their childhood, he can't deny how young he still is.

He nods. "Installed a punching bag somewhere in here. Haven't broken my thumb yet, so either I'm not hitting it hard enough or something you said resonated. I still don't have any plans to actually end up in a fight with anyone, though."

An odd thought for Zouichi: it's good to see Howard smile. Though he doesn't approve of Howard's behavior in the FAYZ, he also understands that Howard is young, and moreover, he's been living under strain for quite some time. He doesn't know how long Howard was there, exactly, but suspects at least part of his height (or lack of it) is due to the lack of resources.

And the lack of food, fuel, and authority, crowded amongst only your fellow teenagers, a good portion of whom probably stabbed each other in the back as soon as they could be reasonably sure to get away with it? Would have only exacerbated the situation.

He nods. "I'm glad. Hopefully, you'll never need to get in a fight, but it certainly can't hurt to prepare for the worst. Where'd you find a punching bag?"

"Same place I found everything else, just in a run-down building, think it might've been a karate dojo once. Heavy as hell, though. They fill these things with sand, I think. Wanna go check it out? Not, I mean, 'cuz you're Asian, I mean because you're way too into punching stuff." He makes a proper fist motion with his hand as he talks, finally discarding the chewed-up gel pen on the couch.

As much as Zouichi's complete competence intimidates and outright scares Howard, it's also intriguing to him. And he does learn from watching. Despite the awkward tension he still enjoys doing things with Zouichi.

"Yes, actually, I would like to see this karate dojo. And I believe they're usually filled with sand or water. At any rate, it should be interesting to see you work."

Also, if there's anything that a teenage boy has no business dragging around on a makeshift cart, he can help. He looks disapprovingly at the savaged gel pen. "You really shouldn't chew on those; one day you'll end up with sparkly pink ink all over your face."

Zouichi isn't really used to concealing his expertise; though he's been designed to appear human to make people around him feel more at ease, passing for one has never really been part of his job. Back home, people recognize him for what he is on sight, either because they've learned how to pick out Synthetic Humans (like Kozlov), or because they're sick of having their research facilities explode.

"Likewise. I already stripped most of the rooms, but some of that stuff just isn't worth dragging around. Haven't checked out their heating systems yet, though, might be some fuel or wiring in there. Engineering expressed interest." He hops up off the couch. "Anyway, you up for teaching me how to break holds and stuff anyway? I'll try to refrain from bursting into tears this time."

If Zouichi gets anywhere near the personal commentary, Howard might just leave right then. In spite of the joking, Zouchi's made Howard gunshy, and Howard's still poking around, trying to figure out how perceptive Zouichi really is. The non-human good guy archetype has been broken down to reveal someone much more nuanced and difficult to predict, and Howard's still trying to get a read on that.

And oh no, they're taking the rescued shopping cart this time. Howard expects that that thing will become his best friend for the time being. Not that he won't jump at the excuse to let Zouichi push it around instead of him.

"But I'll be so stylish," he says, rolling his eyes and pressing the tip of his tongue between his teeth. He never had an oral fixation before the FAYZ.

He nodded; if nothing else, Howard seemed eager to learn. "Anytime you're ready. Is Engineering short on supplies? There's such a large stockpile of weapons on the ship; I assumed there must also be adequate supplies for mechanical tinkering as well."

Howard's initial attempt to pin down Zouichi as a non-human good guy might have been more or less spot on at the beginning, but Zouichi was changing -- adapting -- long before he even arrived on the ship. The constant presence of people to interact with and being forced to improvise his way through novel situations has only increased the rate at which he's learning. And part of these changes include the idea that maybe he wants to hold some of his cards a little closer to his vest. Where Howard is concerned, anyway.

Also, Zouichi has never pushed a shopping cart in his life.

"The belle of the ball," he agrees. Thank you, Media Library. "But I haven't seen much paper around to actually write with, anyway."

"There seem to be, but I've heard about specialty stuff that can be hard to find. Alien tech and all. Karis was looking for stuff too. Besides, sometimes heating systems have propane in them, and you never realize how important fuel is until it's gone." He takes a box out of the shopping cart and starts pushing it out the door. "I've got about forty pounds of paper in the back. And jeez, spend much time in the Media Library, Zou? You coming?"

Zouichi walks toward Howard, holding the door open so Howard can pass through more easily. "Anwei suggested it. Is it all right to leave all your things here?"

Not that anyone would necessarily take it, but...

Howard has found a set of locks that he's jury-rigged to the door. He keeps most of the keys in his pocket, except one he keeps around his neck. He locks all four of them before they leave. "None of the valuable stuff is where people can find it." He doesn't tell Zouichi yet that he chose this building because he found out about all the secret compartments - including an entire cellar only accessible through one of the cabinets.

The dojo's only a few hundred yards away, and it's clear which rooms Howard's already stripped. Most anything metal, besides what's used to keep up the punching bags in one room, has been removed, as has any and all artwork. Somehow, he's managed to get up to the ceiling to get strips of tape and lightbulbs. The back half of the dojo is untouched, though. It's mostly wide space with sliding doors and some pads on the walls, very clean and elegant. It looks as if it were once beautiful, back when someone bothered with upkeep.

There's a strange, flute-like, minor-key melody coming from the ceiling. Howard glances up. "Okay, that's new."

Of course. Leave it to Howard to squirrel away 'the valuable stuff', whatever that is. ~~Hopefully not more drugs~~ He watches as Howard fastens all four locks, curious. "Why four? Two would probably be more than enough."

Because if someone was really determined on this ship, ten probably wouldn't do it; they could just rip out the door.

Once they reach the dojo, Zouichi looks around, curious. It's obviously been here for a while (as he suspects most of the buildings in the city have). And without people inside, practicing, it seems unusually empty. Almost eerie. He looks around for the source of the sound, but whatever it is, it's not immediately obvious.

"Because there's only two on the door to the valuables, but if someone sees both they'll be assuming door number one's got all the good stuff behind it. Besides, got robbed enough times in the FAYZ. Mostly TP and flashlights and stuff. Soap, anything that looked edible, that sort of thing."

He steps backwards, closer to the door, ready to bolt if the need arises but still curious. "It sounds almost like music. If this room's like the back one, there should be a staircase to the attic." He gestures up to the slanted ceiling, where there's a handle Howard can't possibly hope to reach. "You wanna do the honors or run away screaming?"

"I'll take your word for it; I'm sure you've had far more experience with thieves than I."

Zouichi reaches the handle easily, pulling the door down. There's a ladder attached to the back of the door, which folds out. When fully extended, it touches the floor, neat as you please. Sorry, Howard, no screaming and running today.

"I wonder. Feel like going first?" Zouichi doesn't even make a short joke.

Howard shoots a suspicious glance at Zouichi - is Zouichi implying that Howard's a thief? - but doesn't say anything to that.

"Uh, no. I mean, if you're scared." Howard is. He thinks this area is covered by Stacy's protections, but weird melancholy flute noises from the ceiling where there previously were no melancholy flute noises is a little upsetting. He wonders if he'd be as uneasy if it were playing something peppier. He steps up onto the ladder and climbs up, pushes the attic top up, and then goes up. "It's louder up here, but I need to find a light. Come on up."

Zouichi catches that look, and looks quizzically at Howard for a moment. He'd forgotten that Howard himself was a thief, once they'd gotten back in the rhythm of talking. After all, hadn't Howard just told him how often he'd been robbed in the FAYZ?

He follows Howard up the ladder, pulling himself easily up to the attic. "I thought you had a flashlight."

Never mind, because Zouichi does. He reaches behind him, sliding a slender black metal Maglite-type deal out from a loop in his belt, twisting it to shine a light around the various boxes and old knickknacks.

"Left it in the warehouse. Don't tend to carry it on me during the day." He follows the light with his eyes, squinting - he wonders if Zouichi's eyes adjust like his do, or if Zouichi's just That Cool that they switch to night vision instantaneously.

"Holy shit!" He stumbles backwards and narrowly avoids falling back down the hatch. "Shine the light back over there. There's a face in there!"

Zouichi does as Howard asks, swinging the light back around until it falls on the area Howard's pointed out. And it's not just a face, it's several faces protruding from the wall, grey and indistinct in their features, but still obviously humanoid.

The music has stopped now; in its place, he can now clearly hear the sound of children's voices. Crying? Moaning? Something in between? And some other background sound that he can't quite place.

"What the hell is that?" Howard's mood has gone from apprehensive and jumpy to outright panicky. Not to mention that he's heard way too many upset children's voices in his life. More than anything, it reminds him of that night with the fire evacuation, on Sherman Avenue.

He scooches behind Zouichi, nearly trembling, and fumbles for his pocket knife

"A ghost?" Because that's the only explanation Zouichi can come up with right now. Or an alien, maybe. Or a ghost alien.

It's getting louder, that crying, more insistent. Somehow, it feels like it's resonating within Zouichi's bones, echoing inside his head. It sounds like human children. He shakes his head, trying to clear it.

"Perhaps we should get out of here." Just a thought.

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*snort* That last line.

Re: *snort* That last line.

TIME TO FIND MOLD.

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sob I wish I could reach handles

Re: sob I wish I could reach handles

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snort That last line.

Re: snort That last line.