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Post by Veliky on Sept 10, 2022 9:09:03 GMT -5
"'Loyalty aplenty' isn't exactly the-" Veliky scowls as the negotiable conscript tries rooting around in her illusory skull. "...phrasing I would use if I were trying to market myself. We'll see what the background check says on the matter."
Vexed though she was, Mariana's antics did make Veliky somewhat curious. She presses a hand to her own chest. It does make contact, and doesn't go through... perhaps it's better not to think about how these things work.
"Anyways, as for the matter of payment, I'm willing to part with twenty solars per month. That's in addition to room and board."
It's a shockingly generous offer! Most mercenary companies offer just over half that amount per month, and the usual minimum would be only a fifth. Any other businessperson would think such an offer - especially a first offer - to be madness. But she isn't disreputable - she was able to buy a ship of this size, after all. It's high enough to be suspicious in normal circumstances, but these aren't normal circumstances.
"You should also know some of the eccentricities of the ship. You've obviously noticed that the crew isn't normal. They're called Blixtbots™. If the actual Veliky decides to let you work for her, make sure you speak as directly as possible when giving them orders; they have a way of taking things literally. Don't bother learning their names, they don't really have any. Also..."
She points to a wall, where there is an odd, brass bowl, like the bell of a trumpet, affixed. The funnel ends in a pipe that leads into the wall.
"See that? The gnome called it a 'speaker.' They're scattered around at tactical locations, and are used to communicate throughout the ship. Speak into one, and your voice will be heard at the other end. Most are connected to the lower command deck, but some are connected to other rooms for crew chatter... oh, something else. I recognize that this is a deal breaker for some people: we don't keep rum or grog on the ship. The crew don't drink it. They just drink Blixt™."
The clone looks over to the Veliky outside the bars, who looks back with an expression of... well, not much. In any case, they've finished reading their notes; it seems the background check is finished. The clone looks back to Mariana.
"Any questions?"
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Post by Mariana Eadburg on Sept 14, 2022 9:38:44 GMT -5
Mariana's eyes lit up at the offer of 20 solars per month. It was by far the best contract she'd been offered in her life... Most mercenary companies she was hired by had paid a pittance compared to this. The offer of room and board was even sweeter, though she sincerely hoped the furniture would be more inviting in the crew quarters. Gnomish toilet design was now among her most hated and dreaded things.
"20 solars..." The words slipped out as a quiet sigh as Mariana imagined the lifestyle that could afford.
She only caught the next bit of information about halfway, hearing only-
"speak as directly as possible when giving them orders; they have a way of taking things literally. Don't bother learning their names, they don't really have any. Also..."
Got it, when speaking to Veliky clones be direct and literal. Apparently they weren't all as intelligent as the one's she'd been speaking to. Or did she mean the bot things? Oh well, trial and error could solve that later.
She followed Veliky's pointing to the brass bowl affixed to the wall. The way this ship is designed was so odd that if Veliky had told her it was another toilet for convenience she would've believed her. The idea of a speaker was entirely foreign but the usefulness of it wasn't lost on her. Nor, in fact, were the various ways it could be used for treachery and pranks...
No rum being kept aboard did not really matter to Mariana as much as it would most. She drank a lot, but had never had trouble going without. She would definitely have to give the Blixt stuff a try though.
"I do have a few, actually..."
She pointed to the furniture in her room.
"Are the crew quarters better equipped? Specifically is every one of these poop chairs going to sprits me?"
She then looked to Veliky herself with an inquisitive stare.
"Second...how do I know which of you is the real one? Finally, is this Blixt stuff drinkable or will it kill me if I try it?"
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Post by Veliky on Sept 14, 2022 19:49:00 GMT -5
The Veliky is facing away with her eyes closed, but otherwise stands with the confidence of a politician. With one hand behind her back, she raises the other and lifts one finger.
"Firstly, each of the mortal suites - not my choice of name, the gnome can be weird sometimes - is a small room with a bed, mostly identical to the one in this room, along with a small table and a chair. Nothing forbids bringing your own items or furniture, but space is limited. Also, the 'toilets,'" she gestures at the 'poop chair,' "are collected in a single room, called the 'restroom.' There are two restrooms, one on port and one on starboard on the crew deck. I... will not be answering the question about... 'spritsing.'"
Her face contorts in disgust. She needs to shake her head to banish the thought. She raises a second finger.
"Secondly, you don't know which one of us is the real one. This spell isn't just for convenience; it's also for safety. Revealing its exact functionality to anyone would compromise that safety."
She raises a third finger.
"Finally, Blixt™ is made to be drank. In fact, I encourage you to use it recreationally. It's excellent for boosting energy and productivity. My only warning is that, as with rum, you should drink it in moderation."
She opens one eye. It seems the questions are over. She doesn't bother hiding a sigh of relief before she walks back through the bars and talks unenthusiastically to the expressionless Veliky.
"Sef?" It's a Halfling word. She says it with an odd accent that isn't present in her Common speech. The blank-faced Veliky looks back at her.
"Viv. Ka trava, mie nka, mav enaka. Shan nopt veliky en's maadath."
The clone looks at her with shock and... excitement? She looks at Mariana, thinking about something... then walks out of the room, directly through a wall. This leaves only the original, who speaks idly.
"It'll be some time before a decision is verified. Since it's already past midnight, I'd recommend going back to sleep. However, I will say that your record - what little we do have of it - is excellent. I understand you have a passion for animals; the Nin Hloth, as luck would have it, is equipped with a mobile stables. You will need to take care of anything you bring aboard, but storage will not be an issue. However..." She points straight at Lag Switch, the jackal. "Should you choose to want a mount or other animal, consider asking one of the Vilikies for a Blixtbot™ replicant. Less needy. More obedient."
With the same hand that she pointed with, she covers her mouth as she yawns meekly. Looking at her carefully, there does seem to be some wear in her demeanour. Maybe she just isn't bothering to hide it anymore.
"Will there be anything else?"
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Post by Mariana Eadburg on Dec 1, 2022 10:29:40 GMT -5
A quick giggle left Mariana's lips as Veliky reacted in disgust to the spritzing question. She would have to remember the little captains weakness to crude humor and questioning for later fun. The fact that she'd never know whether the Veliky she was speaking was in fact real seemed like posturing, it was easy enough to plop her head through this one and find out. One day she'd make a game of finding the true Veliky, but that would wait until her position was more... secure...
As the little one spoke in some odd tongue, gnomish?, no no that was halfling, maybe... She had never paid much attention to her language instructor as almost everyone spoke the common in Charon. Perhaps she should've paid more attention in many subjects, now that she thought about it more. Either way, they must have come to some positive agreement as excitement crossed one of the Veliky's faces, a new expression of them.
A sappy smile crosses her face as the little captain grows more endearing with her odd personality so full of shifts and contradictions. She'd likely be tossed overboard for it but has a strong urge to squeeze the little captain. Cuteness aggression was usually reserved for her pets, but in this case it seemed to apply. The feeling was only strengthened by the little yawn that came after her final bit of speaking.
The whole deal sounded sweet enough; clean rooms, no competition aboard for pay or promotion, and a stable for her use.
"When can I get out of this cell? it's cozy enough but the more time I spend behind bars the less exciting it seems..."
She started to pace about the room with a rhythm to her step, humming a tune as she did.
"Oh! One more thing... Do you need a hug? You seem like you do." She said it with a look of honest concern, with care and compassion in her voice, yet it was meant solely to tease the poor little captain.
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Post by Veliky on Dec 3, 2022 3:32:07 GMT -5
She freezes. Motionless and expressionless, she has all the seeming of a dreaming statue. She'd been about to answer Mariana's first question when the second blew through her like a frigid gale. Her hand purposelessly hovers beside her. What processment clicks and whirrs behind her eyes?
It was, needless to say, a strange question. But yet stranger is Veliky honest, calculative consideration of it. Her first thought is something similar to, 'How exactly do I look like I need one?' Is there some flaw in her demeanour? Is she doing this wrong? Were her emotions not smothered by her own magic, this would be of some concern to her. For now, it is a thought for later times, whereas the present thought is that of pragmatism. Indeed, she could very well reap a benefit from a hug. If she lets Mariana so close and the mercenary doesn't make an attempt on her life, she establishes a trust (at minimum, that Mariana is not an assassin). And, if the mercenary does try to kill her... well, that would only be a feasible threat if this were the real Veliky.
She calculates a moment longer, triple-checking facts and thrice-considering logic. Needless to say, an emotional Veliky would have been vastly more hesitant. But; in this state of cool, tranquil judgement; she finds that this is the optimal course of action.
She breaks her stillness, mincing forward until she stands in front of the brig's cell door. Then, stopping only briefly, she slips through the bars - not as the illusory clone had before, but by merely squeezing between them. This, of course, would be an impossible feat for a creature even slightly larger than her. But no, here she stands, in the cell, looking up at such a high angle that it must be painful on her neck. Her eyes, face and countenance do not change; only her place does. Her frigid aura now reaches to every corner of the cage.
"As I said, it will be some time before a decision is verified. I wouldn't expect to be released until morning."
She stares in silence. The outline of the cell's brass key can be made out in her coat's pocket.
"...If you try anything, there will be consequences."
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Post by Mariana Eadburg on Dec 6, 2022 7:03:06 GMT -5
The pause in Veliky set about expectation, like a feeling of nervousness compounded slightly by fear. Mariana had a love for many types of animals, some were more affectionate than others. Veliky reminded her of a crocodile, in a tiny package of course. She was cold, dangerous, and unaffectionate. For that reason she waited for sore disappointment at the end of this excruciating pause, possibly even some sort of penalty.
After another few moments that felt like minutes passing the little captain finally broke free from her thoughts and moved towards the cell.
"Here it comes, she'll either try and pass the thought off or be upset by the disrespectful nature of... well, of me." Her internal dialogue was an excited mess of various scenarios of how this could play out.
Then, with a little shimmy the captain was in the cell. With that shimmy Mariana's internal dialogue shifted to one of supreme joy, she'd somehow broken through the steely shell and had even earned a hug by some miracle. This brought on more questions... Why did the little captain need a hug? Was she truly so lonely and in need of care? Did she have a secret love of hugs? Was she going to stab Mariana in the knee? All of this and more flooded her mind in a second. Wait, she was getting ahead of herself, she was probably just going to get stabbed or something after all, this hug business was wishful thinking.
As Veliky craned her neck to look up at Mariana she was too frozen in thought to kneel down to make the process easier. She barely paid attention as the first question was answered, she wouldn't have come in here just to say that. Then, there it was, this WAS an invitation for a hug...
Mariana's demeanor of care and compassion faded in an instant to one of joy and affection, a wide smile and shocked eyes adorning her face.
Most people in a first hug situation go for the gentle, careful, approach. This seemed to be the case as Mariana slowly knelt and reach her arms around Veliky. It was but a ruse though. One of Mariana's arms grabbed Veliky around the back, the other at the hips as she hoisted the little captain into a fierce squeeze. She snuggled against her for a moment, losing all sense of who she was holding, and breathing in deeply. Whatever reason the captain had for wanting a hug, she had gotten one.
"There you go..." She said as she placed her back onto the ground before using her hand to fix Veliky's now very messed up hair.
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Post by Veliky on Dec 11, 2022 19:33:23 GMT -5
Bleak, grey fabric ruffles under Mariana's firm embrace. Veliky's face remains impassive, even as she's lifted into Mariana's arms; even as her hat falls to the floor; even as her cheek squishes against Mariana's tunic and even as her hair is thoroughly frazzled by Mariana's chin. As if to match her demeanour, the cold-blooded businesswoman feels cold to the touch - but she is undeniably soft.
She sets, daintily, onto the wooden floor - toes first, then heels. And her face retains its expressionlessness even as Mariana rubs about her hair in an effort to fix it, especially a particular lock that stubbornly maintains an upward angle, bouncing back into place whenever disturbed. Any pretence of business is so thoroughly lost that it'll be likely to appear in an obituary; undefinable though this atmosphere may be, it's certainly lighter than before, even if the change is lost on this Veliky.
She continues to stare up at the muscular warrior, blinking, calculating, processing. Like the bots that'd practically dragged Mariana into this cell, one can almost hear the whirring of thought inside the halfling's mind until, finally, her faintly weary voice breaks the silence.
"That'll be all. Thank you for your time and understanding."
And it is all; almost, at least. She picks up her hat, squeezes through the bars, minces to the door, but stops to look back, one last time.
"If you have any questions or requests, direct them to Unit Stalker. Good night."
Stalker? Oh! It'd been nigh-impossible to see in the shadows, but; standing motionlessly on one of the walls, outside of the cell; is a fairly massive golem in the shape of a spider (massive, that is, by arachnid standards; it's no larger than a cat). This one, like the others, possesses glasslike eyes - eight of them - but they are all grey and lifeless. In fact, looking back at the canine Lag Switch, its eyes have also gone grey, and it now lies motionlessly on the floor. Perhaps this is their version of sleep.
By the time these things have been noted, the Veliky is gone. How she even reached the doorknob is a curiosity, but by no means the strangest one of tonight. The room seems much quieter now, as if the vessel itself is dormant. The only sounds are the waves and the wind, and the only movement is the gentle rocking of the ship on the waves...
Brig though it may be, it's cozier than most innboards.
"You let her *what?!*"
In the hallway outside the door to her own room, Veliky - the real Veliky - is in uproar. Her face is redder than a bloodstained tomato and one can almost see steam rising from her head. And the subject of her fury? The Veliky replicant that just left Mariana's room and who stares indifferently, at the original. "She asked if I wanted a hug. I decided that indulging her would be the best way to ascertain if she had violent intentions."
Realiky swipes a hand through the air, as if physically deflecting the clone's explanation. "There are other ways to do that! Ways that don't sacrifice... well- dignity! She's going to think that I'm some kind of freak!"
"Actually," the Veliklone rebuts, "she seemed to enjoy it."
The words send a jolt of electricity through Realiky's body, cracking her composure. "Wha- That's even worse! If she's going to be an employee, I need her respect, not her... whatever that is." She rubs her temple; this isn't helping her headache and the heat in her own cheeks is almost making her dizzy.
The clone acknowledges her anger with a slight tilt of its head. "Your concerns can easily be addressed by explaining my motivations to her. Establish that it was an isolated event and you can maintain an employer-employee relationship."
Pain stabs through Realiky's brain, as if the clone's recommendation were some sharpened knife. "Fine! Fine. That's what I'll do." She takes a deep breath in a vain effort to dissuade her fears. She can feel that pressure in her chest, that tightening feeling; it's the sort of anxiety that keeps her awake at night, and this is unlikely to be an exception. She can only prepare herself for that inevitability.
...She looks up, again, to see the clone. It should've left by now; it knows where it has to be. But it's still standing there, head tilted, with that peculiar expression of expressionlessness. "Do you want to hear what it felt like?"
Utter bafflement plays over Veliky's face. Why does this clone's every verbalization send a separate wave of estranged emotion through her? Why would it ask such a question? Why would it *answer* such a question? Why would it think, even for a second, that Veliky would say 'yes?'"
Veliky's gaze turns downcast. Posture becoming more introversive, she scratches her face.
"...Yes."
To the clone's credit, it wasn't wrong.
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Post by Mariana Eadburg on Feb 5, 2023 22:52:40 GMT -5
Mariana strolled to the bed of the chambers and plopped onto it with a satisfied sigh. She felt like a champion who'd fought and been crowned only moments earlier. The battle had been talking her way out of possible jail time and into probable employment, her crown had been hugging the cute little captain. If this was the type of boss she'd worked for up until now she'd have lost far fewer jobs. Giving a hug to any of her former captains would have been not only unpleasant, seeing as most were grizzled old warriors, but dangerous, seeing as they were grizzled old warriors. The strangest bit remained the captain's demeanor of coldheartedness, not even the hug had seemed enough to break the visage and induce some noticeable effect of joy or emotion...
Oh well, she would still play back the moment in her head for the foreseeable future. It served to prove that it's often those that are the hardest to win over that seem the most worthwhile... Or it could be that had some sort of underlying issue that caused her to seek approval from those most unlikely to give it... Ahh, that was probably just the alcohol talking.
The bed itself she found more comfortable than it appeared. It's only failing was in its shortness, she had to curl up to keep her feet from hanging loosely over its edge. The position proved comfy and, aided by the gentle rocking of the ship, she found herself drifting away to sleep. An odd sense of security arose from being under the watchful eye of a metal spider and a captain who seemed mechanically efficient.
Her dreams that night consisted of robot animals of all varieties, hoards of squishy captain clones, and a nightmare in which all toilets were now gnomish in design...
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