trans_9 | Getting out of the 'house'. [Open]

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Getting out of the 'house'. [Open]

Now that the crisis concerning the clock and the children were over, she couldn't be more thankful. The gurgling roar that filled her mind had died down to a more manageable but similarly annoying simmer that continued to give her plenty of reason to be eternally displeased. Still, if she planned to be anything more than a lethargic shut-in, it would require her to brave the 'babbleroar'.

Mulling over her choices for some time, she eventually decided on Hydroponics and made her way there. With the minimal amount of time she'd actually spent on Earth after joining with the Superhomeys, most of her encounters with the natural world were only conjured up from the depths of her memories.

She began walking through the wide expanse of shrubs, trees and other vegetation, intent on both relaxing and rebuilding her mental imaging of how forests and jungles were actually supposed to appear.

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"Oh, I was never a leader except by example." It was the only way anyone ever listened...

He very deliberately thought about not thinking. And failed, mostly, as thoughts for potential toasts floated through his head. To lovely dates with pretty girls -- to good times -- next year in Silvermoon (where did that one come from?) -- she's going to hear all these anyway, why don't --

"To unspoken words, and a lady more wonderfully expressive in silence than any ten lesser girls in full conversational flow," he said with a smile.

"Hm...that's a pretty clever one so I'll have to make sure to give you your props," she thought, returning the smile. I'm not the best at this type of thing, I'm afraid. I'll just say 'to second (or third, fourth, fifth) chances at life, the comfort of unquestioning acceptance and an interesting (if fairly traumatizing) view on life that makes us all the more appreciative."

"Like I'm better? I liked it."

He drank, watching her over the rim of the cup. It wasn't fancy wine from fine crystal glasses, sure, but it didn't need to be.

She drank from her cup as well, delighted at the feel of the lukewarm liquid.

"What a full complement of taste buds you have! I might just need to have you sample all my favorite dishes (you'll just have to work off the extra calories). I do like this tea, though-- did you procure it from somewhere on the ship (this being the most obvious of places)?"

He thought the obvious when she said 'work off the extra calories', but he didn't say it.

"The tea's from Azeroth. I don't have a lot, but this seemed like a good reason to use some!"

He sliced off a piece of meat for himself, lifted it on his fork, and paused. "You better get ready, then, because I like my own cooking a lot."

And he took his first bite.

If she'd seen the little step into the gutter his mind took, she didn't seem bothered by it.

"I suppose I should consider myself lucky then!"

She sliced a bit of meat as well and bit down, already in his cognisphere and prepared for what she could only assume would be a delicious meal.

And she was proven wrong because it was much better than what she had expected.

"(Yum!<3, yum!<3, yum!<3)" Yes, that bit of mental excitement was accompanied by the actual words with hearts dotting the exclamation marks.

How the -- How had he even managed to comprehend that message?

Not like he was complaining, mind, just really wondering! Her powers were more interesting with every new thing he discovered.

I told you, he thought, really quite delighted that he could finally live the dream of conversing while chewing and not being rude.

"Oh yes, that you did. But excuse me if my experience has always allowed for just a tad of skepticism (though you thoroughly proved me wrong!)"

Ah, a good meal with good company. It had really been too long.

Anytime, Mindfuck -- even if they might have to go to the sensorium for future meals, if they wanted them to be good.

For now, he was content to simply eat for a minute or two, reveling in the taste of good food and the company. His thoughts were just stream-of-consciousness that never really stopped, just rambling on to himself in his head about what might make the food even better or when was the best time to ask her on another date or if he could find someone to help repair his sword after practice.

"There's a blacksmith on board by the name of Daja," she said, grabbing one of his thoughts and going with it. "I haven't ever met her (like many people on this ship) but she does use the comm often enough for me to learn that about her."

She paused for a moment, chewing thoughtfully. "I would say...tabasco sauce, as spicy foods are pretty great (in my humble opinion)! And I suppose I'll save you the trouble, though because of the locale I'd say it would be less of a date and more of enjoying the benefits of each other's company in a semi-studious environment."

"Which is to say, would you mind hanging out at the Media Library together? I've yet the chance to go there (I know, shame on me)."

Why. Why. Why. Did anyone. COULD anyone. Think her powers were anything less than awesome? Except if they didn't trust her to not read if they asked her not to, and not push her way in when she wasn't invited. Mar could, he suppose, understand that thinking in general, but... it was hard to imagine someone more trustworthy with these powers than Mindfuck.

He filed away the comments on a blacksmith and whatever the heck tabasco sauce was to deal with the most important thing. "Sure thing! I've been there once or twice, but I'm still struggling with all the -- well, stuff in their. Titan artifacts were a lot more accessible than all of those display things they've got up there."

"Oh, well that shouldn't be much of a problem for me, excluding any mega-advanced alien tech they might have (that I still may or may not be able to figure out). I'm fairly positive that I can teach you how to use it, though it's (yet to be determined) if those lessons will be of the 'hands on' persuasion," she joked, with a wry smile.

"I sort of know how to use it," he said, wobbling a hand in the air in the universal 'kinda sorta' gesture. "It's a little like Titan artifacts, and I've had a lot of work with them." Mental picture: driving a massive tank around while fleeing an even LARGER vehicle that seemed bent on destroying him. "But I don't know the language. I never get stuff because I don't know how to LOOK for it, you know?"

Her lips raised in amusement as she viewed the mental image. She slightly shook her head--really, it was a wonder at all the things he managed to get himself into.

"You'll have to tell me (in detail!) about these 'Titan artifacts', one day. As for the language used, I can probably help you, there! Assuming the place is some sort of actual library that's completely run by a computer (or multiple programs): I've gotten very good at plenty of technology-based languages. If not, well I suppose we'll have to spend an inordinate amount of time looking through everything and anything in that place."

"Sure, I can try," Mar said (mental image: a giant animated statue attempting to punch him with a fist larger than his entire body, which he somehow managed to parry with a sword that looked like a really large steampunk turkey carver). "It's all sort of incidental, but I had a LOT of incidents, so there's a lot to tell, really.

"And if we ended up just spending a lot of time in there looking, would that really be so bad?"

She suppressed a laugh by biting on her bottom lip. "Why does that remind me so much of Captain Rivet and Cyndabloc? And your weapons...cutting edge technology at its finest?"

Mindfuck took a long drink from her cup of tea and placed it gently on the ground before answering his question. "No, no it wouldn't be at all. It's (very) nice being around others, even if its only two or three at a time. Besides that, you're a (pretty) funny guy so of course I like being around you."

"Captain Rivet and Cyndabloc?" he repeated. "That sounds like something worth hearing to me!"

Funny.... funny was good, right? He'll assume so.

"Oh yes. Captain Rivet was the leader of the Superhomeys. The best I can describe him as is a (rather verbal) automaton. Of course, no one knew if he really was simply a suit of walking, talking armor, but he certainly was hollow inside."

Mindfuck took a moment to conjure up on of the many 'normal' images of Captain Rivet (http://media.comicvine.com/uploads/4/47555/911639-capitan1_large.jpg) that she could, sans being beaten in a fight. Right beside him she conjured up her other colleague in all his concrete wonder. (http://img801.imageshack.us/img801/217/syndablokk.png)

"Now he, despite having ah...cinderblocks for a head and hands still managed to be quite functional. Somehow he was able to still use his (quote, unquote) hands to do even the simplest tasks."

"You know," Mar said, folding his arms as he carefully pondered the images she's granted him. "Maybe this is insane of me, and I just don't know these guys, and maybe I'm just being appearance-ist because they don't look like good, sensible biological people, but they do not inspire the utmost confidence in me."

She laughed and shook her head slightly. "Maybe not Syndablokk, but Captain Rivet for sure! Regardless, they're both probably the nicest (understatement) people on the team. Though, as far as appearance goes...well, many suprahumans aren't well (biologically speaking) humans anymore."

Mindfuck placed her utensils on the now-empty plate, a pleased smile on her lips. "In fact, some of the suprahumans on and off the team look very non-human due to the atypical (and somewhat startling) way that they received their powers."

"But you were born with yours, which is why you're that... what was it, vision of something perfection?" Aryan was the word he'd forgotten. "Unless you're secretly hiding something, in which case I'll make it my goal to find out..."

Eyebrows waggled.

"Actually that--being the 'Aryan ideal of shoulder candy' as Spookums used to say (didn't mean to use that pet name) had exactly zero to do with my powers and everything to do with," she lifted a few locks of hair. "My blonde tresses, fair skin and (dearly departed) blue eyes."

Her eyebrows furrowed, a derisive look playing on her features. "And of course, 'shoulder candy' meaning being the oh-so-helpless ('please save me from the baddies!') role of the damsel in distress."

There were also things like looking 'fuck me-riffic' and being completely 'racktastic' to add to the list of what the 'perfect' damsel to be saved should look like. Those were...probably things she didn't really need to mention, Superhomey slang aside.

The mocking look was swept off her face and replaced with one of a dubious nature. "Wouldn't you (certainly) like to know? I will admit that just because I can't lie doesn't mean I have to tell what I know, so that should be indicative enough for you."

She paused a moment then leaned forward, pressing a finger against one of his lengthy, waggling eyebrows. "You keep that up and they're going to fly off your face, you know."

"Oh yeah, I meant, you look hot as hell instead of having, like, swords for arms because you were born with it, instead of getting them later like they did?"

Those adjectives were pretty obviously applicable, if just a tiny bit sexist, but he hadn't really thought of her in such terms.

"If my eyebrows were so weak as to fall off from a little exercise, they'd have burned off the last time I got a faceful of dragon breath. I think you'll find them quite resilient!"

There was a tiny pause as if she were completely thrown off guard by what he said. She felt the warmth of color seep into her cheeks though she seemed to try her very hardest to ignore that it was.

It wasn't that she'd never heard such--with the way most of the more vocal male members of the Superhomeys spoke; or rather, thought. Rarely, though, was it an exclamation of honesty that had no intention behind it. Honesty for honesty's sake.

"I can't say I'm not flattered (despite the usual backlash involved with such a blunt statement...). But I'll agree wholeheartedly! My 'defects' came later in life due to my abilities. And for the record? Captain Katana has swords for both his arms and legs."

"Arms... and... legs?"

Mar buried his face in his hands, trying to grapple with the mental images that inflicted on him. "I was deliberately being over-the-top with that! You have a really weird group of comrades, Mindfuck, you really do."

Very, very carefully he kept himself from imagining any more possibilities. Except the mental idea of a guy with a shark tail for a head. That slipped out before he could suppress the rest of his potential ideas with vigorous pressure on his temples.

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