(Untitled)

[xenacomplex]

Irene found some green nailpolish, and since acetone is an unpleasant smell in any circumstance, she's taken it up to the roof to paint her nails. It's good strength training, which Irene defines as anything that involves having to have a light touch as opposed to one that moves mountains with a flick of a finger

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[ratwithwheels]

Rattrap has been interested in the greenhouse on the roof ever since he'd heard about it.

It's not that he's a green thumb really. It's more that since before he came here he had been stuck for about a year on lush, green prehistoric earth, he actually came to enjoy being around greenery.

Not that you'll ever hear him admit that. He doesn't want to sound as loony as Tigatron.

So there's a cybernetic rat walking around on the roof near the greenhouse. He knows the humans around here seem to freak out alot at his beast mode, but he actually finds that part amusing.

[xenacomplex]

. . . wtf it's a rat.

Irene has seen rats before, but not ones that, yanno, gleam.

She pauses, mid-nail, and resists the urge to click at the rat.

[ratwithwheels]

It's also the size of a dog.

Rattrap turns and sees Irene there. He stands on his hind legs, and waves with one of his front paws.

"Hi there."

Oh, yeah. He talks, too.

[xenacomplex]

Irene, still staring, waves back.

Nail polish sloshes onto the ground.

"Hiiiiohshit."

[ratwithwheels]

That's what she gets for waving while doing her nails.

Rattrap smirks. A very rat-like smirk.

"Sorry."

[xenacomplex]

No sense crying over spilled nailpolish. Even though it was Irene's FAVORITE COLOR.

"Eh. It's just nail polish. Unless you wanted to use it too, in which case, I don't think there was enough to begin with, much less now . . ."

[ratwithwheels]

Rattrap grins as he starts walking over.

"Hey, I'm pretty enough witout makeup. I don't need dat slag."

[xenacomplex]

"It's not slag, it's Limelights!"

Irene holds out her left hand, which is four fifths of the way painted, and wiggles her fingers.

"Slag is less glittery."

[ratwithwheels]

"Psh. So? I'm shiny witout da glitter."

[xenacomplex]

Blink.

"You have a point."

Pause.

"Why are you shiny?"

[ratwithwheels]

"'Cause I'm a robot."

Dur.

[xenacomplex]

Asking a robot why it's a robot is a dumb question, so Irene says, "'Kay."

"I'm Irene."

[ratwithwheels]

Rattrap decides that it'd be fun to continue this conversation in robot mode. So he does.

Now there's a five and a half foot tall robot standing in front of Irene.

"Rattrap. Pleasure ta meetcha."

He holds out a hand to shake.

[xenacomplex]

Irene's hands go behind her back.

"Pleasure to meetchoo too, but I'm not one for handshakes."

Granted, if anyone could take Irene's handshake with only a few dents, Rattrap might be among them, but why risk it?

[ratwithwheels]

"Oh? There a reason for dat, or do ya just have a thing against robots?" he asks with a smirk.

[xenacomplex]

"That depends. If I make a robophobe joke, will I get punched for it?"