|
A small white figure hovers about two and a half feet off of the floor, putting her just a hair above most humanoids walking about Comorro. Mineral floats in front of a sign, reading it again and again, as if looking for something that is just a smidge out of place.
Anya exits the Red Eclipse office and takes a small swig from a flask. The Ungstiri looks around lazily till she spots the woman in white and lifts a brow. "Hoop." She murmurs and takes another swig.
With a little squeal with delight, Mineral seems to find what she is looking for in the sign and does a little twirl on air. She begins to walk, still floating on air, even as her feet make the appropriate movements, moving along cheerfully.
"Hoop me." Anya slips the flask away and slips a joint from a sleeve and lights up. She slowly exhales the smoke and starts to trail after Mineral.
"Happy, happy happy," Mineral sings to herself as she half skips along. The people on Comorro let her pass without a word. Perhaps they are just used to her unusual antics.
Anya takes another hit and keeps following. Seems like a good way to kill an evening to the Ungstiri.
A slow pirouette in air as Mineral looks at Anya, blinking her big blue eyes. She looks solemn for a moment before she scampers down, as if skipping down steps for a lower position so she can dance around the Ungstiri woman. "Do you need something found? Is that why you are following me? I can find anything if you just give me the chance!"
"Da..." Anya takes a hit from her joint and slowly turns around and follows Mineral as she dances around. "Ummm.. parasol. Left in Comorro hub." She replies.
Mineral bobs her head up and down and squeals again happily. "I can find your thing," she promises and pops back up to her usual eye level and skips off toward the Comorro Hub.
Comorrite Hub - Comorro Station
Built within a blue-crimson trunk that bisects two cavernous respiration chambers within what amounts to the Yaralu's "chest," the Comorrite Hub is home to numerous bony nodes that serve as residential modules for the station's inhabitants. Many of them exhale carbon dioxide and other chemicals that the Yaralu can filter and recycle for its own respiratory system.
Anya steps into the Comorro hub and smiles faintly to herself as looks around. "Da.. its paper and bamboo." She explains and waves around the area. "Lost it when drink like tourist at Cafe Orion."
"We will find your pretty pretty parasol," Mineral promises, clapping her hands together. The sound rings loudly through the Hub and she beams her happiness. A pause. "What color is the pretty, pretty parasol?" she asks, looking to Anya. "Is it blue? Or purple? Or green? Or pink?" Strangely enough, as she speaks each color, her hair and dress change colors to match. The Riftwalker is literally floating on air, about two and a half feet off the ground, as she speaks with Anya in the Hub.
Anya slowly exhales some smoke and she grins broadly at the color changing. "Ummm... black? Have many parasol." She murmurs and offers the riftwalker the joint.
Jocaira heads out of the Levimodule, beelining for the Cafe' Orion with a sauntering gait that sets her belts, bangles, and earrings a-jingling rhythmically, and then stops short. She raises an eyebrow, and looks between Anya and the Riftwalker. "...are you seeing sat?" she asks, in heavily accented Terran Standard.
"Black..." Mineral says, her hair and dress changing to the solemn shade, even as her expression falls. "But it is a sad color. It is a lonely color. You don't want sad colors." Her coloring returns to its usual white and she bounces on air. "Cheerful colors!" As Jocaira speaks, she turns in a circle a few times to find the source and then runs across the open space to get right up in the French woman's face, her eyes wide with delight. "Pretty lady!" she declares, reaching one small hand out to touch her curls reverently.
Anya slowly shifts the arm holding the joint towards Joca and giggles softly and nods. "Da." She replies before glancing over at Mineral. "Black for make match dress." The Ungstiri explains.
Jocaira just freezes in place at the approaching fairy thing, only relaxing a little bit when Anya confirms that it is, indeed, not a hallucination; or if it is, at least they're sharing it. "It's touching me," she says, quietly as the Riftwalker touches her hair.
"Pretty, pretty pretty!" Mineral says in her singsong voice, continuing to pet the curls. Her hair color changes to match Jocaira's and she spins in a circle, trying to see herself, but to no avail. "Am I pretty like pretty lady?" she asks, getting up in Anya's face next, her eyes wide with hope.
"Da..." Anya blinks slowly as the riftwalker gets in her face. "Hrrrm.. Joca have more magic tittie." She says after a moment to think things over. The Ungstiri takes another hit from her joint.
Jocaira just grins, uttering a throaty giggle. "Yeah, I do," she purrs, and digs an unmarked paper packet of cigarillos out of her jacket. "Sere are a lot of fairies in se whale, ne?" Setting the cigarillo between her lips, she pauses to light it. "Wild."
Her coloring finally returns to normal and Mineral smiles brightly to both Anya and Jocaira. "We are finding sad lady's parasol," she tells Joca. She takes off, zooming across the Hub, her bare feet hitting against air with each step. It seems as though she is just having fun running around when she all of a sudden skids to a halt, legs splayed as she stares down the alley behind Cafe Orion. Her eyes are wide and she inches her way toward the darkened space.
Anya puff puff puffs that joint. "Joca.. is ya sad?" She asks idly as she watches Mineral with small smile.
Jocaira raises an eyebrow, watching Mineral with a puzzled expression. "Ehn? Why are you asking me, only you know if you are sad." She takes a deep drag on her own cigarillo and holds it, briefly, before exhaling a plume of smoke that doesn't entirely smell like tobacco. "Did you lose a parasol?"
Careful avoid letting her dress trail into the trash that exists behind the Cafe Orion, Mineral appears to be going through bags of trash without actually touching them. As her hand moves, each bag moves. Finally, she stops and in the corner, hidden behind a few days worth of grime is the missing parasol. With a gesture, the parasol follows her out of the back, it dancing along on air, just likes the Riftwalker. "I found your sad parasol, sad lady," she says to Anya. "Be happy, like pretty lady!"
"Nyet sad.. Long time since last hooping but eh...." Anya shrugs her shoulders and flicks the last of the joint away. A small vacant smile crosses her features as the parasol floats along. "Da.. think you.. Will try to be happy."
Jocaira just sniggers, sending wisps of smoke drifting from her nostrils. "Mon dieu," she finally says. "I love se 'ivairspace." With a sigh, she peers at Anya. "Woman are you even -trying-? Se only person I see you in towel in front of is -me-, and I do not 'oop wis girls. Is not like I am running around marrying all of se boys. You want me to call Monsieur Tirax?"
Mineral turns a bright bubblegum pink for Anya, dancing around the Ungstiri woman. "Happy happy happy," she sings. "We found what was lost." She tilts her head. "Did you lose something else? Did you lose your towel? Or your boy? I can find anything!"
"Help Joca find lost virginity." Anya pipes up with a giggle. The French woman gets a snort. "Nyet. And nyet really trying."
"I did not -sink- you were trying. So stop complaining sat you can't get... ffnnnk. Any. Tccchfft." Joca starts to scold, and then dissolves into hilarity. "Ey, I know where my virgeenity went, and non, I do not want it back."
"Virgeenity?" Mineral mimics Jocaira's accent, blinking as she ponders. "What is a virgeenity?" she asks. "Why would you not want to find what you lost?" She gets up into the woman's face again, looking at her solemn, sad eyes. "I could find it for you if you wanted it."
"Da da." Anya waves a dismissive hand over at Joca. "Try French Whorehouse." She offers in Mineral's direction.
"Non, petit faerie girl, I did not -lose- it, I gave it away of my own free will, sere is no worry," Joca replies to the... multicolored faerie-Riftwalker thing that is -right up in her grill-. She glances over her shoulder at Anya, who is standing nearby, smoking a joint, and looking amused. "Psht," she snorts, sending another plume of un-tobacco-smelling smoke from her nostrils. "Capitan's cabin, computair girl. I -nevair- 'ad to work in a cat'ouse."
Mineral moves back to stand roughly in the middle of the two women, blinking. "What is... whorehouse?" she asks curiously. "I don't know this word yet." Her colors smooth down to their original white palette, waiting for a splash of color once again. "Pretty lady knows lots," she says cheerfully.
"Da? Had to and did are two differnt things." Anya replies with a small smirk.
Comorro Station never sleeps - particularly here, where the Yaralu's denizens live and work and play. At every hour glimemrs of light dance and sounds reverberate from the ribcage's rounded shape, warped and distorted by ridges of calcified bone and dessicated flesh. Refracted green light from a luminescent node bathes Sunfire in an otherworldly aura, and by extension her reflection as it winks back at her from the mirror-edged array of blades in the knife shop's window. Big bulky Bluewisp lurks immediately at her side, munching on a take-out box of womp noodles, patiently indulging his charge's windowshopping.
"Still did no-oo," Joca sing-songs in reply to Anya, and shakes her head at Mineral. "Oh non, Mademoiselle Anya knows far many more sings sen I do," she gestures towards the petite Ungstiri, bangles a-jangling with the motion. "And se sings I know are not for teaching to usser girls. Or young ones. Or... faeries." She chortles quietly and takes another drag on the cigarillo. The huge movement of Blue in the generally less-huge crowd catches her eye, briefly, but after an initial, sharply appraising once-over, she goes back to looking dim.
Mineral bounces on air happily, "I like learning new things, pretty lady," she says. She follows Jocaira's eyes to Bluewisp and then down to Sunfire and she blinks, skipping over to the Demarians with the same energy and excitement as shown Joca and Anya. "Pretty kitties!" she exclaims in delight.
"Da.. Ya is going to lay down. Head hurts watching this." Anya comments and turns to leave without further ado.
"Oh Altheor's teeth," grunts a Bluewisp who's apparently done this dance a hundred times since arriving in Hiverspace, his weariness with the whole matter of "rifter this" and "other-dimension that" only marginally concealed by the half-hearted smile he dons for Mineral. "Hi. Hello. Yes. We look like kitties, or so I'm told."
Sunny's ear twists and she starts to turn thataway, her posture straightening, but she only hits forty-five degrees before coming face-first with Blue's half-eaten noodles. She swats him with the back of her paw, chastizing him roundly in the native tongue of the Alhirans, as nattering as any housewife.
"I said I was saving it for /later!"/ a defensive Blue protests, flat-eared and flinching back from the scolding. "It's /later!"/
Reode waddles into the hub, immediately drawn to the scent of noodles. Then the shiny lovely thing that is Mineral. Then Jocaira's bangles. But she moves for the noodles first, wings unfurling as she comes to perch right at Bluewisp's feet. Jocaira watches Sunfire scold Mineral with the bemused expression of the perpetual 'other female', fragrant smoke hissing between her teeth as she chuckles faintly. "'allo, talking bat," she says as Reode arrives.
"Pretty color," Mineral says as she stares at Sunny. She floats on air high enough to be nose to nose with the Demarian female. "Pretty pretty pretty color," she beams. Her white hair and white dress shift and change to match the same shade as Sunfire's fur.
Bluewisp reacts to the sudden appearance of a Tupai with about as much grace as a man being assaulted by angry bees, which is to say his big furry paw is weaponized to swing like a big clumsy club throughout the entirety of Reode's descent. "Sand Mother's sanctified ass, why does everything here have to /fly?"/
Sunny observes him from somewhere between unsympathetic and smug until she finds her own comfort zone being invaded by a nosy alien. Up close and personal with Mineral, her eyes cross and her fur fritzes, back pressing flush against the glass of Eylohta's display window. The touch-responsive glass responds, announcing in a cheerfully synthesized voice, "That item is perfectly suited for goring! Please contact one of our friendly sales associates!"
Reode effin' gets BEANED by a giant Demarian paw. She screams as he sends her sailing several yards away, then thuds on the ground and rolls about, wailing in supposed agony. This lasts all of seven seconds before she rights herself and becomes thoroughly distracted by the suddenly vibrant red-orange Mineral. "NEAT!" she chirps, bringing her shortened cybernetic fingers to her cheeks. "Woooow... I have a /name/, Miss Bangles!"
Jocaira just watches -everything- occur with a mildly baked, definitely entertained expression, leaning against the 'wall' just outside Cafe' Orion and puffing away on a cigarillo. Mineral is showing an incredible lack of 'personal space' awareness in Sunny's direction, and Bluewisp is protecting his noodles from Reode. Joca watches the flailing bat with mild surprise and alarm, at least before the Tupai switches gears. "Hokay, what -is- it, sen? And what's mine, if you are so good wis names?"
Ruin the glowing, the oblivious, the engineer with the PDA that's absorbing most of his attention, steps out of the levimodule. Murmuring softly into his commlink as he goes, the tone suggests working while walking.
"Pretty kitty!" Mineral chirps again before she backs up to a more appropriate distance, spinning in circles on air. "I find things," she declares happily. "Would you like me to find things for you? It makes people happy, and I always find what was lost." She bounces on her bare toes, her layer of air as solid as the ground to her.
Sunfire is the picture of feline bewilderment, her hourglass eyes dilating to measure the light and double-check her brain's suspicion that Comorro's strange ambience is not playing tricks on her. She does not answer. Instead, she dares to lift a forepaw - and with one short, swift motion of her wrist, aims fingers at Mineral's chest with the intent of shoving her backward a step.
Blue seems more bemused by his victim's airspeed velocity than sorry for the severity of the smack. "Damn thing's like a clawball with feet," he observes, before civility catches up with him and the deadly paw cups around his muzzle to bellow an utterly insincere apology. Returning his attention to the priestess he's supposed to be protecting, exhaustion rolls over him all over again and he's forced to try and bodily separate them. "Okay, come on, this isn't a /date."/
Reode just turns up her nose in Bluewisp's direction. "Your name is Ho-caira!" she answers proudly. "I am Reode. But who is the fluttery thing," she asks, scooting away from the strange scuffle.
Jocaira accepts the Tupai's proclamation with a shrug, and then adds another one on top of that as she looks over the scuffle herself. "I 'ave se no idea, it is some kind of faerie who finds sings," she says, watching the engineer with nose-in-PDA walk by with a few, flickering moments of sharp-eyed interest. The beads and cassock get a particular piece of scrutiny, followed by a mild crinkling of the nose and yet another shrug. "I... am going to bed," she finally says, unholstering her own PDA and thumbing at it. "Au revoir, Mademoiselle Re-ode."
Lights, color, okay, it interferes with reading the screen. He looks over, studies the scene....if anything, looks tired. And turns to go.
As Sunfire pushes her back, Mineral floats back but there is a dejected look in her eyes as her little shoulders slump and her coloring seems to dull as it reverts from the red back to white. She drops down about a foot to blend in with the crowds and drifts away.
"Oh holy fire did you /kill/ it?" asks a suddenly terrified Bluewisp, eyes glued to the spot where the color-changing rifter once floated. Sunfire clutches him, shaking her head mutely, failing to comprehend; her equally dumbfounded Duneshadow likewise locks his arms around her. With enough clearance to sneak a bite of noodles over her head.
"Good night!" Reode waves an enthusiastic wing after Jocaira. Then the bright thing is suddenly gone, and Reode just sits there for a moment, wall-eyed as she tries to think of what she was doing several minutes prior. She starts to waddle off as well.