Summary:Just another talk in a friendly diner. Log Info:Storyteller: None |
Related LogsTheme SongNone |
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The white-haired and green-eyed RESCUE chief of security walks into the restaurant looking at once the most and least human she's been in a long time. The sound of actual sneakers and /civilian clothes/ accent the eyepatch almost covering the scar across her left eye, making the aged vet look threadbare but normal in the pleasantly warm March weather…
Until someone looks down at the slot machine worth of lights twinkling across half of her body. Wearing a normal enough looking pair of pants, the veteran's cuffs are folded and sewn up high enough to expose the bare mechanized workings of her prosthetic ankles and shines, while her open, frayed, and one-armed coat exposes the entirety of her replacement left arm. Of course, the shirt she's wearing is simple enough - a black background and four simple words in white:
Build
Fly
CRASH
Rebuild
Moving with a noticeable sluggishness and care with her 'new' limbs, the cyborg's accessories lack any of their predecessor's smoothness in movement or appearance, with all of their moving parts and circuits exposed to view, and a more than healthy number of indicator lights blinking, strobing, and shining in time with her various movements. To top it all off - literally - Ava's wearing a rather thick looking helmet that hugs close to her skull and sports a noticeable battery pack at its rear. Her salty hair is today absent from view as she seeks out her table, ten minutes early.
*
As it turns out ten minutes before Posse shows up the table had already been secured. There's a couple of drinks set out including one completely empty shotglass. There's a familiar looking white gal fully decked out in black jeans and turtleneck, a lighter ensemble than usual for Domino, sitting there slowly rubbing her forehead. There's also a fair bit of privacy to be had from the out of the way table. Knowing her luck she probably never had to request it.
The cyborg's an easy one to pick out in a crowd even if the pecular helmet does give Dom a moment's hesitation. Still, for as many people as she's ticked off she doesn't (yet) have any vengeful cyborgs on her tail and not many people would be running around covered in glowy lights.
Upon seeing the chief of security the albino's head lifts away from a menu, taking her second or two to properly identify the other woman before smiling in greeting. "Well look who's all ready for the rave. Welcome back to the land of the mobile, Anodyne."
Some of the smile soon gets replaced by a thin frown. "Hey..that shirt doesn't happen to be referring to that thing we brought home, does it?"
*
"Only if ya mean me," Posse answers, brightening a little in recognition of the albino - as hard to find in a crowd as ever. There's a subtle weariness to her expression as the cyclops maneuvers around to the opposite side of the table and eases into her side of the booth. Now under closer inspection, it's evident her one-armed coat wasn't a custom design. The jagged edge has been only slightly tidied up, and a wrongly placed sewing line suggests the right sleeve might itself have been a replacement.
Posse begins their pleasantries by taking her own drink and polishing off the top third.
*
"When I saw 'fly' the Bearcat's what came to mind" Domino remarks. "Didn't take you for a flyer unless someone threw you hard enough. Though Hank might be up for that."
Already at the table are two glasses of water, two beers, and one shot of whiskey in reserve hovering at Ava's side of the table. Its presence might seem questionable. Surely Dom knows what happens when mixing strong drinks and strong meds…
"Glad to see that you're comfortable getting out of the house. We've still got a little catching up to do, thought it might be nice to go over matters somewhere a bit less ..clinical" she suggests with a slight cringe.
*
"I've survived one or two, and it was this or the milk jug shirt," Ava replies as she switches from beer to water and sips a little to rinse her drink down. "You're not a fan of hospitals are ya?" she asks, tactful and astute as ever.
*
"Test pilot, huh" she quietly teases. "Noted."
Following this Domino's attention comes to focus at her beer-filled glass while flatly replying "Can't say that I am. But I'm glad that the RESCUE crew's doing right by you."
When the albino looks back to Ava there's a thin smile returning to her sharply contrasting features but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. "I hear this joint's known for its pulled pork. What say we get this party started?"
*
The cyborg's lone eye softens back and she response with a dry grin to smooth the moment over. "I've done that as long as you've been a stripper," she responds as her metal arm comes to rest on the edge of the table. "Hold up. Are we talkin 'good pulled pork' or 'good pulled pork for here'?"
*
A dark brow curls upward but Domino can't help but chuckle. "Well I'm sure glad that your pals were able to appreciate my -other- skills when applying or I would have felt slightly out of place in that freezing bunker."
Following this is a softly spoken "Hmm?" before she suggests "Good pulled pork for the Big Apple. As a word of mouth deal, granted. Not quite fame on a global scale. Our mileage may vary, but I'm liking our odds."
Craning her head slightly the pale lady just happens to catch a server's glance right when she needs it. In a matter of seconds they'll have a chance to order.
*
"Except mission-critical tech-wiz from Io everyone on that flight was combat-capable," Ava states definitively. "You don't get in by speaking Russian and looking pretty." The cyborg leans back in her chair with a look of amusement as she catches a glimpse of the exchange. "Are you always this lucky?"
*
"Also noted" Domino mentally ticks off another box before chuckling softly. "You're right. I also have natural camouflage."
Always this lucky? "Not always, though usually when I really need it. Although there are a number of associated benefits."
Her order is kept on the light side today, pork and barbecue sauce on a bun. It's like she didn't bother to look at anything else on the menu, food is being treated more like an afterthought for her.
"How's your recovery going? I can tell you're still working through some things, or is that because you're out of your shell?"
*
Ava's order is more diverse: pulled pork with beans and greens, a full plate. "You're lookin at last year's model," she asides, turning her head extra far to the left in order to look towards her prosthetic and very bare arm. Tiny orange and green lights flicker as as she drums her fingers on the counter. "It's basic but it's enough for me to walk again. Roni's real miracle is up here," the cyborg notes while patting the frame of her bare shoulder.
"The rest is still getting rebuilt. Give it a week, maybe a month, maybe a few months and a wake-up," Ava adds vaguely.
*
"A few -months?-" Dom sounds surprised. "Jeezus. I mean, don't get me wrong, this is all bleeding edge cybertech custom built for an army of one but I didn't think something like an EMP would take you out of the fight for so long. If you're in the market for moral support or..hell, a distraction, you've got my number. We'll take out some watermelons with a fifty or something."
Another light frown remains in place as she looks down to Ava's arm while she's drumming her fingers. The albino's head quickly inclines once as she holds a hand out. "Let's see this."
*
"I might have to take you on that. I'm worth to PCB right now," Ava admits with a forlorn glance back to her arm. Domino's shift of attention pulls her from her thoughts and the cyborg slowly reaches out the metal limb towards her. "Careful," she cautions. "No covers on this one; it's a pinch hazard."
*
"I'll take my chances" Domino replies in a soft but flat tone while taking Ava's hand in first one then both of her own. Her touch is delicate, supporting the cybernetic hand with one while the other has fingertips trailing along all of the exposed workings.
It isn't long before there's a touch of guilt showing in her eyes. Fingers slowly curl around Ava's hand and hold it, less firm than she probably would have otherwise held it.
"I just want you to know" she starts in while looking back to Ava's one good eye, "you're still dead sexy."
*
There's not so much as a twitch this time. The cyborg watches with an idle detachment at how the albino supports her prosthesis. Once she's sure Domino has a comfortable handle on it, the hand goes completely still. A pliant, textured palm almost mimics skin, but along the back and up the arm is bare circuitry and artificial muscles that break the illusion entirely. Little lights beat to their own rhythms, except a little white LED that brightens seemingly in response to Domino's touch.
While she's waiting, Ava grabs her water again and takes another small sip. She smiles back in surprise and a chuckle almost escapes. "What are you trying to cheer me up? You've got a robot fetish, I know I've got your vote."
The amputee's mirth subsides just as quickly as the weight of Domino's statement sets in. Her lone green eye softens. "Yeah, yeah," she relents. "Don't make a mountain out of a set-back."
*
Domino has to roll her eyes, though there's still some amusement to be found with her. "Oh, whatever. You're not a robot, you're a lady with some shiny bits. Now take a fucking compliment. I know what it's like to see something different from what you're expecting in the mirror."
Before anything else is said from Dom's end their orders are brought to the table. The food looks messy but smells fantastic, as any proper order of pulled pork should be. Dom lets go of Ava's hand and merely nods to their server before reaching for her beer.
"Nothing else serious from me until we're at least seven hundred calories in."
*
Ava dutifully moves her arm out of the way of the plates and takes her silverware in hand as she draws in a deep breath then nods. "So you're ordering two?"
*