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Karis honestly hadn't had much to do and after her whole time lapse thing, she'd spent a lot of time lurking around the ship and avoiding people. That really hadn't helped her much, though. She needed to keep busy. She needed something to do. So, she'd gotten in touch with Ter and the two of them had scraped together what parts they could and then gone down to the hangar deck, where they'd carefully cannibalized a few craft that nobody had touch or used and were really just gather dust - and started working.

For now, she'd cleared a section of the hangar near the X-Wings (which she hadn't touched, mainly because she didn't want to get yelled at) and she was carefully assembling a rather rickety and ramshackle looking gyrocopter. With jet engines strapped to it.She was elbow deep in the engine, spattered in grease, oil and other mechanical fluids. She wiped her hands on a rag and then plucked a wrench from her small supply of tools and leaned in, going back to work

Keep the hands busy. keep the mind busy. She'd been doing that for the past decade. Maybe she could keep it up a while longer.

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Soren had never even seen airplanes before, let alone X-Wings, though by now he'd managed to at least learn the basics of what one was and what it could do. He'd woken up from his unfortunate foray into the local tavern with a splitting headache (it seemed, oddly, worse than the last time he'd drunk a little too much), but decided to spend the day on his feet rather than in bed.

By now he was getting along more or less all right, and he was more interested in seeing the Hangar than in sampling more of that revolting slop. He almost walked right by Karis, paused, then frowned at the gyrocopter.

"What is that?"

Karis dug herself out of the engine she was assembling and turned to eye the interloper. Looked like a kid. Well, young man. But to Karis everyone who was under thirty qualified for the moniker of "kid". And seeing how he'd react to the prospect of a zombie building a gyrocopter would be fun. She shrugged and jerked her head at it, voice a dry rasp.

"Gyrocopter. Had one back home, figured I'd building something similar here. Might make it a two-seater."

Well, that was... interesting. He took a brief step back, but it wasn't like this was his first encounter with the dead given life again. It was just the first time he wasn't expected to set them on fire. It helped that Karis was talking to him instead of trying to shove an axe through his skull.

"We are in space, though, are we not? Will there be opportunities to use this... gyrocopter?"

He assumed gyrocopters were something like helicopters, but Karis's project didn't look quite like the contraptions Soren had seen in the reference books.

Karis just grinned at his (muted) reaction. A grin that showed off very sharp teeth. She liked freaking out people.

"Ships huge. Figure I can use it in here or when we go planetside. 'Sides... we'll get it sorted. One way or another."

Soren, for his part, didn't like surprises. But apparently they came every other day with this crew. If not more.

"Ah. And do we go planetside often? I understand some of the crew are on a rather delicate mission at the moment."

Karis shrugged, "Hell if I know. I'm just a grunt. I go where I'm told and kill who I'm supposed to kill. Been down at least twice since I got here. Maybe more...."

She picked up another tool and made a little adjustment to one part. Finishing this would probably take a while. But she'd get it done, eventually. "You're one of the fresh meat, huh? What's your name, kiddo?"

"I see. Do all grunts build gyrocopters in their spare time?" Seriously, did they?

"My name is Soren." He wasn't going to correct her about his age; people often mistook him for someone younger due to his build. And the peculiarities of his aging process.

"And you are?"

"No. Just me. Any other smart questions?" Karis shot over her shoulder. She didn't answer his other question for a moment, choosing instead to hook up a coolant pipe to it's proper place. Only after it was safely ratcheted into place did she pop back up. Yes, she was intentionally making him wait. Yes, she was trying to irritate him.

"Karis Needleteeth. Welcome to the meatship, Soren," she drawled, wiping her hands clean again. Well, as clean as they could get, considering the rag she was using was already covered in grease and oil.

"How descriptive. And thank you." Soren was a little annoyed that Karis wasn't bothering to talk to him face to face... but on the other hand, it gave him a chance to freely examine her state of decay. Her condition did not appear to cause her any pain -- how bizarre.

"You have a rather descriptive name. A coincidence?"

"Holy shit, I never noticed that!" Karis' reply came back from somewhere within the guts of the engine, dripping sarcasm. "No, it's not a coincidence. I gave myself that name. Anything else you wanna know about my life story? Like my favorite color?"

Now this was the kind of conversation Soren could sink his teeth into (ha. ha).

"In that case, I should congratulate you for your prodigious creativity. Yes, please tell me all about yourself. What sort of weather do you like best? What's your favorite book? Do you prefer to run or walk? What is your favorite thing to do in your free time?"

"Wasn't looking for the approval of some snot-nosed brat who I hadn't even met yet when I came up with it, kiddo."

She finally deigned to pull herself out of the engine , still covered in grease. "In my free-time I beat the shit out of people who ask too many irritating questions. Read me, Sorry?"

Hey, she asked. "Oh, perfectly well. And I'm so pleased to see the decay has left your rapier wit untouched."

He gave her a sarcastic clap.

Karis reached out to grab at a fitful of his meat-suit and tried to drag him closer, "Any other comments on my state of decay, buddy?"

"It really brings out the rosy flush in your cheeks."

Soren didn't have much of a brain-mouth barrier.

"I really hate breathers," Karis muttered. And then she swung her clenched fist at Soren's gut.

Well, she started it.

Soren was actually fairly used to bearing the brunt of physical attacks (also, rocks), though you never really get used to a sudden blow to the abdomen. So even as he was recovering from the blow, he set a hand on her shoulder, gathering power for a counterattack.

A brief, concentrated burst of flame blossomed into being under his hand, with enough concussive power to knock a man backwards.

Karis had her fist cocked back for another blow when she found herself blown backward by the force of the blast. Not to mention the feeling of heat and the dull ache and burn on her shoulder. She didn't feel pain as sharply or as acutely as she once had, but it still hurt. Fucking spellcasters.

She picked herself up, hand closing around a wrench and hurled herself forward, shoulder dropped for a bodycheck.

Soren was just starting his cast of Arcflame when the ship's restraining tentacles shot out to immobilize him. Oh. So this was the safety system.

Though he was a rather potent spellcaster, he wasn't anywhere near strong enough to struggle his way out of these. And... well. He'd heard some fairly nasty things about those Violations.

So he made no real attempt to break free. "Meddling vessel," he spat.

Karis came to a halt with a low growl as tentacles snatched at her and pulled her away. After a moment of simply glaring, she tossed the wrench aside as the tentacles released her. "...go to Hell, asshole. And stay out of my workspace. Fucking vitalist scumbag."

She spit something slimy and indescribable onto the floor in front of him and turned back to her work.

"Fucking breathers, coming down here and bothering me..."

Soren brushed his bangs back from his forehead as he was released, eyeing Karis with no small amount of disdain. "Mouldering sack of wormbait."

He turned sharply on his heel and left. Apparently even when the undead could talk, they didn't have anything of substance to say.

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