Hubble rubs her arm nervously upon hearing Frank's question. "Oh no..."

"I never was very good at travelling through space. Whenever I go somewhere at lightspeed, I have occasionally been known to cause... strange things to happen at the places I go to. I'm terribly sorry. Boy, this whole "interacting with other beings" thing was a bad idea..."

Edited by DrNoPuma on Oct 4th 2018 at 10:14:41 AM

Still hoping for Klonoa to get a new game... or a movie like this

Enzo approaches the Ursa with putting out a hand and putting on a grin. Lorenzo Garrotte, nice to meet you. If you want knowledge, I can tell you the complete history of my family's mob, or my ant farm if that’s more interesting, us mercenaries are always able to help, ya know?

His voice is gentle, despite his gruff pipes. Enzo has entered his schmoozing mode.

Huzzah

Frank was about to let loose and yell at Hubble about the transit plans that she ruined...

...but Emmylou voicing her concerns to both him and Becka has briefly turned "empathy" mode back on, and Hubble apologizing for it before he even started didn't help. So he decides to instead (after holding up his pointer finger to Emmy, to say "give me just a moment, please") say something a bit more understated.

...tell ya what, you keep chatting up the other crew members and if they accept you into their fold, then you and I will have a mature, clear-headed discussion about... Frank pauses, trying to find the words that don't make him sound like an asshole, before settling on... that thing I overreacted about later on. Deal?

The possum is a potential perpetrator; he did place possum poo in the plum pot.

Meanwhile, Tilt and Bumper had gone back out to the cargo hold, with the two peering through the windows of the docking door. The ground was still a couple thousand miles off, and the Celestial was descending, but the android was getting impatient.

“It looked closer the last time we were looking,” he said. After a beat, he continued. “Think I could make that jump?”

Bumper turned to him with an 0__o on his display, and replied, “If you’re looking to disintegrate into a pile of ash, well, sure.”

“Guess we’ll chalk that up as a ‘no,’ then, he said with a sigh. There was always the possibility that he’d have something in his collection of stuff to break the fall, but Bumper’s lack of confidence in the idea was enough to dissuade him.

Tilt’s processes wandered a bit before he spoke again. “I’ve got a question, Bump.”

“Hopefully I’ve got an answer.”

“Why’d you stay on the Celestial? Like, sticking with the crew, and all that.”

“Well...” Bumper started, with both heading away from the doors and back into the ship proper. “I guess the biggest thing was that it still felt like I needed to be here. I knew you’d be fine out there, kickin’ ass and taking names or whatever, but how much is a dinky little floater like me gonna do?”

“So you weren’t... mad?”

“Why would I be? It wasn’t like you meant for things to go the way they did,” said Bumper, with a cheerful smile to go with it. “You’re gonna have to do a lot worse to grind these gears, Fult.”

Tilt gave a weak laugh and said “Thanks, Bump,” as the two approached the entrance to the barracks, where a towering creature with nebulae in place of fur had manifested before Becka and the rest of the crew.

The android gave Bumper an odd look after catching a glimpse of the Ursa. “When did Becka hire a space bear?”

“I don’t recall her having ever done that, Tilt.”

Edited by Tre on Oct 5th 2018 at 4:42:50 AM

oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘

Kristoph, thinking that he should pull his weight as ze science mann, proceeded with his grilling of Hubble.

"Hmm, if you indeed have millennia of experiences as you so claim, iz zere any event of particular personal interest you recall? Somezing before zat concerto of 1131 galactic years ago, which shattered that one Betelguese planet? Now, maybe you'd have memorized ze event you'd like to speak about on ze internets, but we'll never know until we try, hmmmmm?"

With that, he produced a tablet, setting half the screen to a notepad app and the other to an internet browser to cross-check Hubble's statements.

Timers to measure time, thermometers to measure thermomets, mometers to measure mom, and measuring containers to measure measurements.

Well, that's kind of her only option at this point. She nods to Frank. "Deal." She extends her hand-claw-ear for another shake to solidify the agreement.

Thousands of leagues across the A.G., a noblewoman held a fizzing drink in her throne room while listening to a stammering servant’s report. The timid operative’s demeanor was starting to grate.

“The V-Varrq forces were wiped out by the time we arrived on Phobos... there was no sign of him there...”

“Cut the bullshit and tell me, right this moment,” she said to him, “where is the experiment?”

“H-he’s back on the v-vessel, with the s-Spotters,” her subordinate said. “They’re on F-F-Faunatoid.”

She grunted with a sense of annoyance, and sipped from her glass. “Send the Enforcers. Tell them that we’d prefer the thing alive, but the others are fair game. And if they must kill him... make it a slow one.”

---

“Now approaching the West Faunatoid Central Spaceport,” Frank’s ship computer said over the loudspeakers of the Grand Celestial. “Estimated time of arrival: ten minutes.”

“That sounds like our cue,” Tilt said, pumping his fists a bit as he dashed back toward the cargo hold. “Vamonos, Bumper!”

“But... the bear...” the boxbot said, before putting a palm onto his display and wordlessly following Tilt.

A gust of cold air blew into the Celestial’s loading dock as Tilt activated the side entry door, hitting a switch on the alarm keypad to close it behind him. Bumper grumbled a bit as he joined.

“Why so glum?”

“You’re really makin’ me do this? We’re gonna go splat, or fall into some lava pit or something!”

“Not if you’re manning the matrix, Bump!”

An incredulous smile showed up on Bumper’s screen. “Really? Just like old times?”

“You know it, bud. Hop in!”

With a w00t, Bumper’s physical form faded into a wireframe and deconstructed itself from view, and the boxbot found himself in the expansive confines of Tilt’s backpack, its walls glowing a familiar shade of teal. “Damn, it’s dusty in here,” he said, pulling up a virtual Tilt’s-eye-view display from atop a throne of wires and long-obsolete computer parts.

“Can’t say there was much incentive to tidy up the plaaaaaaaaaaaaaace!” The android launched himself from the plane as they chatted, flailing through the air above the spaceport for a bit before stabilizing himself with a backward swing of the arms.

Edited by Tre on Oct 15th 2018 at 1:41:28 PM

oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘

Frank was briefly confused by Emmy's response, since he was asking Hubble the question—

BUT THERE'S NO TIME TO THINK JUST YET! The computer has just sounded off, announcing their proximity to West Faunatoid Central.

So he shakes Emmy's hand and stands up.

I gotta go deal with that.

He leaves.

...

Once on the bridge again, he receives a call from Space Traffic Control.

"SWB-9871 in Dock 19, you aware that your cargo door's open and something just fell out?"

No, I wasn't, but I'm not surprised.

"It's on path to hit a shuttle bus stop."

...okay? Is it big?

"...it looks human sized... ...and shaped... ...is that a backpack?"

Yeah, that's probably our android. Don't worry, he's trained. He'll leave the bystanders unharmed.

The possum is a potential perpetrator; he did place possum poo in the plum pot.

...it takes Emmylou a moment to realize Frank's demand wasn't for her. She giggles to her silly self; it's an old stupid habit of hers, and old habits die hard, they say. She turns to Hubble.

"...uhh, what he said. Deal?" Again, she extends her hand, this time to the Ursa.

Tilt’s lenses were locked forward as he dived, studying every corner he could spy of the approaching ground for the best landing spot. He caught a glimpse of an open field near the port’s ship runways that could’ve worked, but a whine to the right of him turned his focus elsewhere.

“That’s not...”

Bumper frantically yelled before he could finish, “It is!” and, without a second thought, threw an orb from the pile under him into the holographic walls around him. The bubble opened itself up around Tilt, and not a second later, the blast of a rocket sent the android off of his intended path.

Having a shield to take the brunt of the blow had kept the two from becoming bits of scrap in the moment, but they had a new problem on their hands now. “Chute! Chute!” Tilt yelled, and from within the pack Bumper futzed around with the controls of the pack before finding the right option. A panel on the rectangular satchel slid open and slowed Tilt’s fall, and the two let out sighs of relief as the android aligned himself to land atop a bus suspended in the air above a street of merchants and businesses.

Tilt hopped from the roof of the bus to the platform next to it, reading the “East Line” banner of the vehicle and fielding odd looks from the departing passengers. Bumper sent a message to Tilt’s HUD to ask if he could do the talking as they got on, and the idea of it was just as weird to him the as it was when they did it on their old excursions, but Tilt agreed, turning control of his emotion engine over to the boxbot.

“Any way I could get some information on how to reach the North Line?” the two said to the bus driver, with Bumper’s voice and an unusually cheery grin coming from Tilt’s face.

“We’ll be at the transit center in five stops. Now siddown and shaddap,” the elephantine driver grunted, checking his watch with two of his eyes and glaring at the duo with the other six.

“Thanks!” Bumper said as Tilt walked to the bench in the center, darting his eyes away from the other passengers as he took a seat.

“What the hell was that about?” Tilt, whose real voice was transmitting from his wrist comp, asked.

“I was just being cordial,” Bumper said, taken aback.

“Not that, Bump, the missile,” Tilt said. “I haven’t been on this rock in half a decade, I have no idea who would want to put me on ice here.”

“Oh yeah, that. Maybe you’re more popular than you thought?”

The two looked out at the windows on the other side as the bus gained speed. “Seems like that’s something to be afraid of.”

Edited by Tre on Oct 16th 2018 at 1:16:15 PM

oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘

Five stops and some awkward seating rearrangements with a family of legume-like Faunatoiders later, Tilt, Bumper and 47-ish other passengers were funneled directly from the bus into a tunnel-like beam of light at the last stop, and it wasn't long before they were dropped right into the middle of the bustle and/or hustle of the Spaceport Central Transit Center.

"Alright, Bump, wayfarer extraordinaire," Tilt said. "What's the quickest line between here and our Foundry?"

From the confines of the storage matrix, Bumper gave it some thought before an egg timer sound played. "Take the Hyde Forest Direct. Next one leaves in 4 minutes, go, go, go!"

Ass-hauling mode engaged, Tilt ducked and weaved his way through the crowds, giving the signage above a sweeping glance along the way to reacquaint himself with the station's layout. Right as he started toward the stairwell to the north departures, darting through businessfolk with coffee cups and oddly anachronistic holograms of newspapers, he felt like they just might've been able to make the Hyde line before the doors shut.

He jumped into the air above the stairs' railings and snapped, switching his beat up Chucks out for a pair of Oxfords that were once tap shoes but found a second life as his "Definitely Not a Homage To A Cartoon Shrew" kicks. Sparks flew as Tilt skidded down the banister, with Bumper using the backpack's speaker to emit an oddly melodic siren along the way.

They were going fast, the pedestrians near them were shooting nasty looks, and the Pod still had a minute and a half before departure time. Life was good.

And then, right as he was readying his dismount at the foot of the staircase, Tilt felt a hand grab his right ankle with what felt like the strength of a hydraulic press. He couldn't even catch a glimpse before his face had hit the pavement, the yellow "Mind the Gap" printed across the ground in front of him.

"Tha-dde-us Ful-ton." It was a bitcrushed and choppy voice, with a modulator that sounded straight out of the 23rd century. "Her Grace re-qui-res your pre-sence."

Her Grace? Bumper asked over the android's internal chat.

Tilt sent a shrug emote. No idea, dude.

He felt a barrel poke at his back from the attacker, a spindly robot shrouded underneath a trenchcoat and trilby that were both way too big. "Ea-sy or hard way, Ful-ton," the figure said. "Your choice."

The "doors closing" chime rang above them, and the pair deliberated separately before making a split-second choice together. Tilt turned around as Bumper pointed a finger from a hatch in the top of the pack, and without giving their foe a second to react, Bumper fired from over his bud's shoulder, knocking the trilby clean off with some other bits. Tilt caught the weapon and sprung backward into a walk, bumping into one of the doors of the Pod as it sealed itself shut.

He looked at the passengers near him — a cat-like being and his canine companion smooching, a pair of water elementals playing chess from behind their diver helmets, and a metallic man talking to a wrist computer with little foghorn noises — and poofed the rifle into his matrix with none appearing to be the wiser.

Edited by Tre on Nov 1st 2018 at 1:39:24 PM

oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘

Meanwhile, back on the Celestial, Grantor has awoken to find that he went into a biscuit-induced coma, in a cupboard. Again. Exiting, he looks around, trying to figure out where everyone's got to.

"Er...hello? Erik? Becka? Not again..."

(Carry then enters the room with a broom and dustpan. She had been keeping herself very occupied and out of everybody's way by keeping all of the areas on the ship clean and heavily sleeping for fourteen hours every night.)
"Hello, Grantor. How have you been? Sorry that I haven't been around much."

Edited by EeveeGirlChey on Nov 4th 2018 at 9:14:03 AM

"My light shall be the moon, and my path the ocean, my guide the morning star as I sail home to you...."

"I'm okay. You don't know where everyone else is, do you?"

"No, I'm afraid not. I've been busy cleaning."

"My light shall be the moon, and my path the ocean, my guide the morning star as I sail home to you...."

Up on the bridge, Frank is looking out the windshield, watching the surface of Faunatoid get closer as the elevator descends, taking the Celestial with it.

Of course, the traffic controller is still pestering him about Tilt leaping out of the cargo hold. "SWB-9871 in Dock 19, your cargo door's still open! You android has landed on a bus line!"

Frank of course, is rather apathetic about all this, since Tilt has almost certainly left everyone in the area unharmed. The traffic controller treating him like an object instead of a person doesn't help much. So he ignores him.

Eventually, the ship touches down on Faunatoid's surface. Frank takes this opportunity to let the crew know:

Attention crew, this is Vliet speaking. We are now on the surface of West Faunatoud Central Spaceport. As always, you're free to mingle with the locals, but try to avoud another Hotel Incident.

The possum is a potential perpetrator; he did place possum poo in the plum pot.

"Faunatoid? What happened to Phobos? I need to stop eating so much sugar. My system can't handle it."

"Ehh, I guess I better go shower and make myself look decent. See ya, Grant."

(Carry then exits the room and goes to find the showers.)

"My light shall be the moon, and my path the ocean, my guide the morning star as I sail home to you...."

"I'll see you, Carry."

Grantor proceeds to stumble around the ship, eventually find himself near the bridge.

> Transport pod from nearby vessel docks, a Servant of the Omnissiah walks through the doors

Machine-God's Cogs, they've really let this place go. Those air filters are gunkier than a broken car engine. And the Machine Spirit is howling for aid on the bridge.

> Shakes his head and tries to make his way to the Engineering Deck to see if he can do something.

I hold the secrets of the machine.

Frank sees Grantor outside the bridge, and flashes him a peace sign.

Then he takes this moment to reflect on just how hectic a day it's been. Negligence on the job before last lead to the crew choosing to drop off a stowaway with cops star systems out of their jurisdiction. A rig on the planet they were refueling at was raided and an old (ex-)friend was caught in the crossfire. Said old (ex-)friend promptly rejoined the crew. We travel star systems by a freak accident, and the accident's inciting agent wants to join the crew too. And on top of all that, a prisoner from the raid was brought on board before she asked for a ride back home.

...christ, now I'm thirsty. Again. he mutters aloud to himself. He looks at the crate of whiskey in the supply closet on the bridge, sorely tempted to grab another shot.

The possum is a potential perpetrator; he did place possum poo in the plum pot.

Jane re-enters from stage left, grabbing the whiskey and tossing it to Vilet before grabbing a box of wine and slamming it on the table, pouring half of the damn box into a massive portable coffee cup.

"Miss Jane, that is highly unhealthy."

"Ah, tis gonna be okay, Jotaro! I have an iron stomach!"

"While you are immune to intoxication, you're not immune to the other ill effects of alcohol, and you're a horrid driver even while sober."

"DIO is the ultimate being! The being of the future! Dare you not to rival me!"

Tilt couldn't help but be on edge as the Pod started making its way to Hyde Forest. Something — or someone — had tried to kill him within moments of them landing on Faunatoid, and while it wasn't as big a deal to him that he was being targeted, his best friend was right there with him for the first time in forever, riding shotgun. It made things tenser than they probably would've been otherwise, and it wasn't Bumper's fault, but suddenly it felt a bit tougher to keep in good spirits.

The windows began to buzz with light, with holographic advertisements shifting into view toward the ceiling and a feed of Faunatoid News Nine on the primary pane toward the back of the Pod. The broadcast was hosted by a lavender blob-like being with a terrible bowl cut wig, and a fellow in a tweed suit that bore a striking resemblance to Brendan Fraser.

"Socialites across the Argonaut Galaxy are buzzing today as Lane of Hudfax and her beau Gottlieb sealed the deal," the amorphous newscaster said with a giggle.

Her co-anchor continued, "The wedding has spent 5 years in the planning stages and was reported to cost 3 million Hudfranx. Guess you can drop that kind of cash when you're royalty, amirite?"

Tilt squinted at the holographic screen as it showed the wedding footage over the outward sights of the Spaceport's shopping districts. He couldn't place exactly why, but seeing the Duchess decked out in the finest Hudfaxan regalia made him feel like his wiring was starting to tangle itself inside him.

Then again, it could've just been his battery going on the fritz. He thumbed through his backpack's interface from his wrist and pulled out a portable charger, which he slid into a pocket on his jacket's left arm. The pack clawed itself through the cloth and connected itself to the tiny ports below with a pinch, and Tilt winced a bit before the initial shock wore off. Relying on the Spiderpaks wasn't an ideal solution, but it was reliable enough, and would keep him going for a while without having to use the expensive travel charge seats.

"Royals are so pretentious," Bumper said from the hot seat of the matrix. "The things I could do with 3 million Hudfranx..."

"What would you need all that money for?"

"Paying off all those debts the Celestial's got, and then maybe starting up a sandwich shop on Vauxhall-9. Maybe we'll name it Bumpie..."

A beat. "Nah, I'll come up with something better, I know it."

"You can't even eat sandwiches, Bump," Tilt laughed.

"Maybe not, but who's to say perfecting the art of making them for others is out of my reach?" Bump asked. "I'm not a sandwich-making robot, but I'll learn just to stick it to whoever tells me I can't."

"Fair enough. Any idea where we're going after we reach our stop?"

"Thirteen blocks east. You'll know it when you see it."

Bumper's directions took Tilt to a grayed-out warehouse, with peeling paint and Gouldian vulgarities written in glowing spray paint on the exterior walls. He was a bit dumbfounded to find out that they were apparently in the right place.

"I thought you said that this one worked," Tilt said, only to be rebutted with Bumper's annoyed tutting as his companion surfaced from the storage matrix.

"Tsk, tsk, Tilt, you know I wouldn't bring you all the way out here for something nonfunctional," Bumper said. "This one got taken off of the network after Wardex got bought out by DV, but it doesn't take much to get the systems up and running again if you know them well enough."

"So one of your new tricks is reviving dead factories?"

"Maybe so."

"I'll believe it when I see it," Tilt said as the two entered the facility through the empty loading dock.

"Ye of little faith," Bumper said, showing a :P and flashing a peace sign as he floated up to an office tucked in among the scaffolding above them.

Tilt looked on as the lights above them hummed to life, with the automated doors to the rest of the facility opening alongside them. His buddy hovered back out and opened his arms with a jolt, turning his motor off and falling back to earth. Tilt sprung into motion as Bumper got closer to the ground, catching his friend with a leap and a tight grasp.

His monitor was still glowing blue, but didn't display a face. Tilt, audibly shaken, said, "Bump! What happened?!"

"Trust fall," Bumper replied, quietly but with a smirk as the image returned to his screen. Tilt scoffed, dropped him and started to look for signage pointing to the printing bay. "Oh, come on, you big baby! One more time for old times' sake couldn't hurt!"

"You scared the shit outta me, dude," Tilt said. "I thought something went wrong up there."

"I did it all the time before... well, before everything went down. I figured you'd get a kick out of it." Bump crossed his arms as he followed Tilt through a hallway and up a stairwell.

"Time and a place, Bumper. I don't think this situation qualifies for either."

"There isn't even anyone here, Fult! We can have some fun!" Bumper said. " Did being alone turn you into a hardass?"

"I don't know, but being on the Celestial seems to have turned you into a smartass."

"This whole ordeal is nobody's fault but yours, Thaddeus," the boxbot muttered. The android turned around and looked at him with an expression that wasn't so much a death glare as it was a disappointed grimace.

Bumper blinked, realized that he may have gone a bit too far with that one, and immediately backpedaled. "I'm sorry, Tilt."

"Are you sure?" Tilt asked, stopping at the door immediately in front of the stairwell's topmost exit to the printing bay. "Because the Bumper I knew wasn't the type of robot that didn't say or do something unless he damn well meant it."

"It's not true, T, I know it isn't. I just... you know, I had to get better at fending for myself when you left. I'd have been scrapped forever ago without that," Bumper said. As he apologized, Tilt's attention was diverted to a small repeating note that he'd placed among the echo of their voices, and he looked to the door.

"Is there anything I can do to try to make things better?"

"Yeah," he said, turning to Bumper with a bleak expression as the spaces between each beep grew ever smaller. "Hit the deck."

The irises of Bump's digital eyes shrunk, and he poofed himself into the storage matrix as Tilt bounded away from the door, which flew from the hinges as a blue explosion popped out from the other side.

Edited by Tre on Dec 21st 2018 at 12:39:38 PM

oh, that's why I need this binary mind // ⌘

“WE ARE THE EMPRAH’S FUREH- Wait, is this a bad time?”

“Now! Let us engage in the art of deduction!”

Meanwhile, back on the Celestial.

Frank pits the whiskey down without even opening the bottle. Tempting, but I've got other work to do. Thanks anyway, Jane!

He exits the bridge and heads to the engine room... bumping into a Servant of Omnissiah on the way. Frank is momentarily startled by the new visitor, before he recognizes their drapery.

Huh. Didn't know that they have Omnissians this close to the core. He notes, before asking the Servant something more relevant. Here to look at the engine, I take it?

The possum is a potential perpetrator; he did place possum poo in the plum pot.