[Log] The Mechanic And The Princess: Truth And Consequences
Who: Graham Spector and Tepet Tilis Tirana
When: Last Tuesday night
Where: Graham's dockside warehouse SECRET BASE
What: It's Graham's turn to learn the terrible secret of Triple as well as discover an opportunity for adventure!
Watch For: Tirana's adventure into 1930's fashion, Graham's reaction.
Mundane Sector - New York City
New York City is a powerful symbol, a microcosm of everything about the modern Mundane world, in a way that spans through most of the planes throughout the sector. That isn't entirely a good thing, unfortunately. Different planar incarnations of New York City vary in their general environment, but two themes run through the area. One is a deep variety and sense of opportunity, with massive business highrises and people from all over the world roaming the streets, in something like a great melting pot. Another is the ultimate consequences of placing so many people in such small quarters: New York City is far from the safest city in the sector, and especially in the crowded subways and other areas, you'd best keep your eyes on your valuables. Still, with the bustling information explosion of Times Square, and the Statue of Liberty still looming on the horizon in the absence of the Twin Towers, the city's certainly a sight to see.
Obvious exits:
Line leads to Mundane Sector.
There were worlds to travel to, things to do, people to see! Shane and Ravi seemed to be doing quite well in their new role and there was no new news about Zack. So with not much else to do back home, and with a farewell blessing from the family, Tirana returned to the multiverse. She still had a list to complete, after all.
One of the last stops was a rather unwelcome part of the Big Apple. A warehouse in a seedier part of the dockside, certainly not the sort of place one would find a wandering princess. The last time she might have been lucky, this time she decided to be a little more discrete. Donning a grey flannel suit and skirt and a hat that seemed far too ornate for normal every day wear, she was the very model of an intrepid female teenage reporter. One with long bushy blonde hair and at least a couple squirrels following her trail. At least she wouldn't have anyone telling her the 'Wizard of Oz set is thataway'.
Adjusting her jacket one last time, as flannel wasn't the most comfortable of cloth, she approached the warehouse door with a solid thunk of heel on concrete. Rather loud, she thought. A gloved hand is raised and knocks the door solidly, as her voice sing-songs outside, "Oh, Graham? Anyone? It's Princess Triple!"
The sound that greets Tirana is a low rumble- the sound of something heavy being wheeled along within before being brought to a squeaky stop. Wheels were definitely in need of oil. The voices within are notably absent of the usual loudness that identified the ringleader of the gang, and after some brief deliberation, footsteps draw closer to the warehouse door before it is pulled open.
"Ah, hey, it is her," the man notes with a glance back towards the rest of his companions. He looks back at Triple before stepping back with a shrug to let her in, since Graham never seems to have a problem with the dame. "Boss ain't in at the moment- but he should be back soon."
No compliment for her new choice of activewear? Good help really is hard to find these days. Then again, they didn't seem to be the most observant or active of lackeys, either. Tirana fights off her urge to indulge her curiousity and peek over the man's shoulder, instead demurlely bowing to him. "You can call me Triple, everyone else does! Would it be alright if I stayed here to wait for him? I have, um, a personal matter to discuss with him, as well as an opportunity."
When you're around a boss like Graham, you tend to get worn out pretty fast, it seems. It's always a welcome if not tentative break everytime the mechanic is out doing his own thing because you don't have to stand and wonder when that wrench of his might be swung in your direction. Of course, that only leaves the tension of wondering when he'll be back.
"Oh, right. Well, guess that's okay. The boss don't seem to have any problems with you." The man looks somewhat curious about what the girl could mean by an opportunity, but he knows Graham to be one that jumps at opportunities... He turns to go back to where the other men have been moving some things around. The chassis that had been there in the past month is now gone, replaced by another automobile that seems relatively decent in condition, but who knows how long that'll last around here.
One of these days she'll have to tell the family back home that one of her closer friends is a car thief. Maybe after she explains what exactly a car is. "Oh, thank you!" she beams cheerfully, stepping inside only to find herself gawking at the sights yet again. "These buildings are certainly far different than the architecture back home. Its huge, but so, um, sparse inside!"
The change of interiors isn't lost on her either, and her curiousity wins out in the end as she steps towards the new acquisition. "This is different than the one you had in here earlier," she notes to the door answerer, "Was Graham able to get that shiny engine in that other one?"
Oh no, she's trying to converse with them. One of the other guys lifts his head and looks at her, brow arched in one of those 'is she for real?' looks. "Err... yeah... it's... a warehouse," he finishes lamely, but not really knowing what the girl was expecting, really. He scowls at the others that have decided to pretend to be busy, leaving him to talk. "Boss got tired of that'n so we got rid of it. Engine's still there..." He thumbs back towards a corner where a tarp covered a rather squarish piece of equipment.
And speaking of the boss...
"WHO LEFT THE DOOR OPEN~!" rings that familiar voice, the one that manages to catch everyone's attention. Graham steps inside, wrench bouncing over his shoulder. "Tsk, it's already drafty here in the winter and OH HELLO, I see a Princess Triple!" He swings up his wrench in a wide arc high over his head in greeting, Shaft who had been entering just after him, narrowly missing it as he stumbled to the side, inches from range.
If they had the time, she really was rather interested in talking with Graham's followers. Meeting new and exciting people was what she was all about, even if they were rather low-paid lackeys. It would have given her a chance to explain to them about where she was from, why 'warehouses' and 'cars' are still strange sights, and what they really thought of working for such an energetic man and his imposing wrench.
Alas, they don't have the time, it seems. "Oh, hello Graham!" the girl enthusiastically waves to the mechanic with a sparkly smile. "I just came to see you," she explains with an added curtsey. Nevermind that the oddity of a woman dressed for the Baccano! period curtseying. "You know, I thought it was a bit drafty, I should have closed the door behind me! How have you been?"
"Not to worry, not to worry!" Graham assures, waving his hand, even as he jerks the other back to draw the door closed with his wrench. He ignores Shaft who crawls out of the way, instead stepping further in and towards his guest. "I almost didn't recognize you! You got new clothes! Not that I think it really suits you- things can be very dull and boring here but no amount of boredom can dull your radiance!" He smiles. "But I've been as wonderful as wonderful can be. And what brings you to our humble warehouse abode?"
"You don't think they do?" Tirana twirls about on a heel, sending both her hair and the skirt's hemline floating majestically into the air. "I must admit it is rather stiff and, um, scratchy, but I have been working on blending in better with the worlds I visit! The next time, though, I shall put on something more regal, just for you~"
Then again, her whole reason for arriving may put a damper on that plan. She glances aside at the congregation of devoted wrench-ducking followers, and she steps towards the tall man to tell him quietly, "I am here on a rather personal matter, actually, plus I have an opportunity that would really suit you! Is it possible that we could move to someplace a little more private?"
Graham tilts his head at the princess, then glances at the others who have disinterestedly tuned out. Or at least, they appear to. "Oh, really? Hmmmm...." He nods, moving to slip his arm around Tirana's shoulders to lead her along. "A moment, boys!" he announces, walking back towards the door to step on out.
3x Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "So I'm about to tell a wrench-wielding maniac that I'm not entirely a princess. Is this a wise decision? y/n/walrus"
Kizuna Iyanagi says, "walrus"
Mmmm, frosting. Venetia Martens says, "coo coo cachoo"
Karen White says, "I am in favour of walrus."
Turtle? Gwen Meynolt says, "Walrus."
Turtle? Gwen Meynolt says, "I also vote you phrase it that way and let him draw his own conclusions."
The arm slips around her, and for a moment, Tirana feels tingly. There's a flush to her cheeks, and her smile is even sweeter for the briefest moment. It takes some willpower for her to ignore the urge to lean in to the mechanic, it wouldn't be seemly and he is a bit older, after all. There's also the matter of what she knows that he doesn't, as well as that ever-present wrench. He'll take this news just fine, she reassures herself as they step outside. Juuuuuuuuust fine.
Once their past the doors and out of everyone else's earshot, the Terrestrial turns her eyes up towards her compatriot. There's an almost embarassed downturn to them now, and that flush is a little more prominent now. "Graham, it seems that there was a misunderstanding or, well, I'm not entirely sure what it was actually." Her hands clasp at her bosom, or namely the lack thereof. "However, it seems that I was told a lie since I was born. It seems that I was not suffering a horrible curse, after all. I am, um, well, physically, um, a boy."
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "And there's your welcome back. ;)"
Graham Spector XD
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "Its also been suggested to me to ask you this question:"
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "So I'm about to tell a wrench-wielding maniac that I'm not entirely a princess. Is this a wise decision? y/n/walrus"
Graham Spector says, "WALRUS"
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "That was the overwhelming winner. :D"
And out they go. It would have been an oddly romantic setting, except for the fact that this was not the most wonderful of areas to be, seaside or not. Graham lets his arm fall away from her once they are outside, and he turns to face her now that they've gotten Tirana's requested privacy. He stands there, wrench once again resting over a shoulder, his other hand set at his hip. He arches a brow as she begins.
"Misunderstanding?" He looks at her confusedly, and how much he'd like to tell her to be out with it already. His hand tightens on the wrench anxiously, but he relaxes his grip once Tirana finally gets what she wants to say, out.
...too loose. It takes two seconds for what the princess is trying to say to sink in, and the casual smile that's on Graham's face remains, perhaps due to the loss of how he should properly react to such a thing, and the wrench clangs noisily at his feet as gravity grabs hold. It's a sound that quickly has the men within the warehouse poking their heads out of the doorway in alarmed concern- or perhaps wondering if their boss has finally had it with entertaining the dame. It's a false alarm that still brings some thoughts for caution, especially once Shaft notes the bowed head and the shaking shoulders of his boss- uh oh, silent chuckling never amounts to anything good.
"-PRIVACY," Graham speaks suddenly, his face shadowed by the curtain of blonde locks, "....was requested, gentlemen..." His foot kicks up the wrench abruptly, a gloved hand snatching it out of midair before swinging it to point accusingly at them. All at once they vanish back within the wearhouse confines, and that leaves the mechanic to turn his attention back towards Tirana.
"....a curse," he intones, letting the wrench fall lazily into his other hand, and he bounces it in palm as he begins to slowly circle the girl. "....a curse not a curse, or perhaps more accurately.... a lie. Lies..... lies aren't pleasant, but then some live their lives based on lies! A lie can be a horrible thing or most beneficial! Oh, terrible, terrible things can happen when lies are the basis of truth!" His footsteps cease to circle and he is once again facing Tirana, that blue eye that remains uncurtained by his bangs gleaming dully in the faint light. He points the wrench at her. "BUT! YOU! Our meeting was a lie! The joys and concerns all spawned from it...." The metal is a blur as it's swung down at the cement below their feet. "A." *Crunch!* "LIE." *CRACK*
He leaves the wrench buried in place, deep in the ground as he moves to clasp his hands firmly on Tirana's shoulders. He's laughing again. "
"I'm.... SO RELIEVED....!!"
What?
He's raised his head with this announcement, giving a slight shake to the girl...person... trap. "Thank goodness! I wasn't sure how to break it to you, that things would never work out between us!! You made for interesting and magical as well as entertaining company, but it would have never flown quite well- I prefer older woman, you see.... And being that you are neither one nor the other, PERFECT!" He releases her/his/it's shoulders abruptly to hop back, grasping his wrench once again as he does so. "Haha!! YES! Thank you, Tirana! Thank you for the honesty of your lies!!!!"
He dropped the wrench. His trusted, nay, beloved wrench, the wrench he nearly bashed her brains in with when she tried to sing it out of his hands. And he dropped it.
This, needless to say, was a bad sign.
Tirana doesn't turn to face the growing crowd. Indeed, she is silently relieved when Graham takes care of that matter himself, even if she instinctively shies away from its swinging arc. He wasn't going to hit her, but that was still a little too close for comfort!
Speaking of too close to comfort, the circling isn't doing her nerves any favors either. "Um, well," she tries to start explaining once he's finished, but the shouting kills that with a frightened squeak. The first swing sends her flying back a foot not from the force of the blow, but from sheer panic, the second doesn't send her back any father, but by now her hands are at her mouth and her eyes are wider than hubcaps. They're still that size when he grabs her shoulders. Ohdragonsohdragonsohdragons
... What?
"Um, older, um, women?" She's stumbling over trying to find the words after having swallowed her heart, lungs, and at least one kidney. Thus the faint disappointment isn't heard in her stammering. "Um, well, I didn't know they were lies when I told you! I was lied to as well," she says as her emotions finally regain their spot in her head and now there's a crestfall of disappointment. "If I had known the truth then, I would have never lied to you!"
She bites her lip, then finally cracks a small smile of her own. "There are romantic tales of Dynasts who have run off with, um, opportunists, but if it truly is older women you prefer, then I shall defer to your wishes," she offers with a curtsey. "We can still be friends?"
Graham straightens, smiling horribly as he listens. It was like a great weight he hadn't even been aware he'd been shouldering was lifted from him. He would have certainly liked to leave Tirana to Kadaj for the two had seemed to make for wonderful companions! Nevermind the fact that the Remnant had tried to kill her. The mechanic laughs heartily and feeling quite into the moment of things, returns the curtsy with a bow of his own.
"I should not mind that at all, I think," he replies as he lifts his head. "...does this mean you're going to wear pants now?"
Tirana suddenly has the expression of a kid handed a plate of brussel sprouts. "Pants? Ick," she waves that notion off with a hand, "I may have some issues that need to be, um, dealt with in time, but it is a very large multiverse. There could even be magic in my own world that would, well, make me a /true/ princess." Yeah, those words should make sense. "Its who I am, after all," she smiles with a touch of her heart, "In here."
The mechanic nods, and he might have been joking or just honestly curious. "Oh, well then. It's all a matter of preference anyway!" Graham waves his hand dismissively. He supposes he doesn't care what the girl- boy... whatever- decides to wear since they've got the relationship thing settled. Nodding vigorously, Graham strokes his chin. "Couldn't have said so better myself! Follow your heart, set forth and seek your dreams! In the end it doesn't even matter-! -wait. No, it DOES matter! For you! Not them!"
"Precisely!" Tirana nods vigorously, her hands at her hips in an almost defiant pose. "My dreams have always been my own, and I'll follow them whereever they may go!" If they happen to go to a certain silver-haired maniac, then, well, we'll just have to see then, won't we? They won't be going to a scruffy-haired blonde mechanic, but that's alright. Having opportunists as friends is far easier than having them as something closer.
This reminds her of her other reason she sought out Graham. "Oh! Before I forget, I also had a, um, opportunity for you." This she doesn't personally care if the other guys listen in to, they'll probably be in on this as well if their boss accepts. "You see, I was given information that there's this place somewhere in my own world that, um, well, we can skip the boring parts." Environmentalism doesn't seem to be Graham's forte. "What I wanted to let you know is that there is this rather fantastic machine that we would like to see, um, dismantled." There's a puckish puck to her lips. "I hope I came to the right mechanic."
"Indeed so! Good g-" He catches himself. "Good! Very good!" The grin returns easily, and interest glows on his face as Tirana brings up the second point she wanted to discuss. The mechanic nods, and then slowly that grin broadens and his eyes practically light up at the words she speaks. Or namely three important words.
Fantastic. Machine. Dismantled. Magic words.
"OHO-Reeeeeeeeeeally............!!" he says eagerly, suddenly pushing the personal space issue again. "Ahahaha- you have my interest! You certainly do! What sort of machine? How fast do you need it dismantled- oh, does it matter? I'm excited! Yes! I'll do it!"
Can she pick 'em or what? Tirana's own smile broadens, she doesn't even cringe at the mechanic coming that close to her. "It will be tricky, its guarded by Alchemicals." Oh, right. "Machine people. I am searching for others who can come along with us to fight them off while we access the interior." Its impolite to point, so she simply gestures to Graham, "That's where you come in. Dismantle it quickly, and you can keep whatever you can carry back with you." Harmony might complain, but she's certain she can assauge him. This was an opportunity, after all. Graham needed his payoff!
"MACHINE people?!!" If he gets any more ecstatic about this, he might very well explode! Now the question is, is he more eager about the prospect of dismantling the aforementioned Fantastic Machine, or the Machine People? Graham backs off to allow breathing space, nodding as he strokes his chin thoughtfully again. "Heheheh.... quickly... not a problem, not a problem at all, I should say!" He positively beams back at Tirana. "YOU, have got yourself a mechanic," he says, holding his hand out to Tirana.
That's a very handsome hand you have there, Mr. Spector. Tirana stares at it for a couple moments before she remembers her crash course in non-Realm manners of reaching an agreement. She takes the hand in both of hers and shakes it gently yet firmly, beaming sparkles all over the dock again. "Oh, thank you! I knew I could count on you!"
Graham Spector XD
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "how you shake hand"
Graham's grip is strong, as one can expect from someone who so casually wields a two foot wrench like a cardboard tube. He shakes Tirana's hand, grinning from ear to ear. "No, no- thank -YOU- for this wonderful prospective opportunity!" he counters, laughing.
"In that case, you're most welcome!" And Father tried telling her this dealmaking business would be tough. Pfft, you just need to know the right people! Tirana lets go, eventually, and thinks over the last details. "I'll let you know when we will be ready to go, I need to talk to some others and assemble the team. It won't be long at all, the sooner we can deal with this, the better." Harmony, possible, perhaps Gale once he's back from doing crazy Realm stuff. Kadaj would be tempting, but him and Graham? Hahahaha, no.
Oh, right. The Remnant had been stalking her, wasn't he? What if he was watching her now? Nah, if he was he would've come dashing in at the destroyer of his motorcycle by now. "Now that business is settled, perhaps we should do dinner before I leave your world? I have not had 'Italian' in quite some time!"
The mechanic nods again. "Right! You know where to find me, then!" He set his wrench across his shoulders behind his head, holding it in place with his wrists draped over either end.
"I think I could go for dinner, yes! That sounds like an excellent idea! Shaft can drive us! There are quite a few good places- if mafia owned- but good nonetheless!" Graham turns to the warehouse. "SHAFT! We're going to dinner! Warm up the car!" he calls.
When: Last Tuesday night
Where: Graham's dockside warehouse SECRET BASE
What: It's Graham's turn to learn the terrible secret of Triple as well as discover an opportunity for adventure!
Watch For: Tirana's adventure into 1930's fashion, Graham's reaction.
Mundane Sector - New York City
New York City is a powerful symbol, a microcosm of everything about the modern Mundane world, in a way that spans through most of the planes throughout the sector. That isn't entirely a good thing, unfortunately. Different planar incarnations of New York City vary in their general environment, but two themes run through the area. One is a deep variety and sense of opportunity, with massive business highrises and people from all over the world roaming the streets, in something like a great melting pot. Another is the ultimate consequences of placing so many people in such small quarters: New York City is far from the safest city in the sector, and especially in the crowded subways and other areas, you'd best keep your eyes on your valuables. Still, with the bustling information explosion of Times Square, and the Statue of Liberty still looming on the horizon in the absence of the Twin Towers, the city's certainly a sight to see.
Obvious exits:
Line leads to Mundane Sector.
There were worlds to travel to, things to do, people to see! Shane and Ravi seemed to be doing quite well in their new role and there was no new news about Zack. So with not much else to do back home, and with a farewell blessing from the family, Tirana returned to the multiverse. She still had a list to complete, after all.
One of the last stops was a rather unwelcome part of the Big Apple. A warehouse in a seedier part of the dockside, certainly not the sort of place one would find a wandering princess. The last time she might have been lucky, this time she decided to be a little more discrete. Donning a grey flannel suit and skirt and a hat that seemed far too ornate for normal every day wear, she was the very model of an intrepid female teenage reporter. One with long bushy blonde hair and at least a couple squirrels following her trail. At least she wouldn't have anyone telling her the 'Wizard of Oz set is thataway'.
Adjusting her jacket one last time, as flannel wasn't the most comfortable of cloth, she approached the warehouse door with a solid thunk of heel on concrete. Rather loud, she thought. A gloved hand is raised and knocks the door solidly, as her voice sing-songs outside, "Oh, Graham? Anyone? It's Princess Triple!"
The sound that greets Tirana is a low rumble- the sound of something heavy being wheeled along within before being brought to a squeaky stop. Wheels were definitely in need of oil. The voices within are notably absent of the usual loudness that identified the ringleader of the gang, and after some brief deliberation, footsteps draw closer to the warehouse door before it is pulled open.
"Ah, hey, it is her," the man notes with a glance back towards the rest of his companions. He looks back at Triple before stepping back with a shrug to let her in, since Graham never seems to have a problem with the dame. "Boss ain't in at the moment- but he should be back soon."
No compliment for her new choice of activewear? Good help really is hard to find these days. Then again, they didn't seem to be the most observant or active of lackeys, either. Tirana fights off her urge to indulge her curiousity and peek over the man's shoulder, instead demurlely bowing to him. "You can call me Triple, everyone else does! Would it be alright if I stayed here to wait for him? I have, um, a personal matter to discuss with him, as well as an opportunity."
When you're around a boss like Graham, you tend to get worn out pretty fast, it seems. It's always a welcome if not tentative break everytime the mechanic is out doing his own thing because you don't have to stand and wonder when that wrench of his might be swung in your direction. Of course, that only leaves the tension of wondering when he'll be back.
"Oh, right. Well, guess that's okay. The boss don't seem to have any problems with you." The man looks somewhat curious about what the girl could mean by an opportunity, but he knows Graham to be one that jumps at opportunities... He turns to go back to where the other men have been moving some things around. The chassis that had been there in the past month is now gone, replaced by another automobile that seems relatively decent in condition, but who knows how long that'll last around here.
One of these days she'll have to tell the family back home that one of her closer friends is a car thief. Maybe after she explains what exactly a car is. "Oh, thank you!" she beams cheerfully, stepping inside only to find herself gawking at the sights yet again. "These buildings are certainly far different than the architecture back home. Its huge, but so, um, sparse inside!"
The change of interiors isn't lost on her either, and her curiousity wins out in the end as she steps towards the new acquisition. "This is different than the one you had in here earlier," she notes to the door answerer, "Was Graham able to get that shiny engine in that other one?"
Oh no, she's trying to converse with them. One of the other guys lifts his head and looks at her, brow arched in one of those 'is she for real?' looks. "Err... yeah... it's... a warehouse," he finishes lamely, but not really knowing what the girl was expecting, really. He scowls at the others that have decided to pretend to be busy, leaving him to talk. "Boss got tired of that'n so we got rid of it. Engine's still there..." He thumbs back towards a corner where a tarp covered a rather squarish piece of equipment.
And speaking of the boss...
"WHO LEFT THE DOOR OPEN~!" rings that familiar voice, the one that manages to catch everyone's attention. Graham steps inside, wrench bouncing over his shoulder. "Tsk, it's already drafty here in the winter and OH HELLO, I see a Princess Triple!" He swings up his wrench in a wide arc high over his head in greeting, Shaft who had been entering just after him, narrowly missing it as he stumbled to the side, inches from range.
If they had the time, she really was rather interested in talking with Graham's followers. Meeting new and exciting people was what she was all about, even if they were rather low-paid lackeys. It would have given her a chance to explain to them about where she was from, why 'warehouses' and 'cars' are still strange sights, and what they really thought of working for such an energetic man and his imposing wrench.
Alas, they don't have the time, it seems. "Oh, hello Graham!" the girl enthusiastically waves to the mechanic with a sparkly smile. "I just came to see you," she explains with an added curtsey. Nevermind that the oddity of a woman dressed for the Baccano! period curtseying. "You know, I thought it was a bit drafty, I should have closed the door behind me! How have you been?"
"Not to worry, not to worry!" Graham assures, waving his hand, even as he jerks the other back to draw the door closed with his wrench. He ignores Shaft who crawls out of the way, instead stepping further in and towards his guest. "I almost didn't recognize you! You got new clothes! Not that I think it really suits you- things can be very dull and boring here but no amount of boredom can dull your radiance!" He smiles. "But I've been as wonderful as wonderful can be. And what brings you to our humble warehouse abode?"
"You don't think they do?" Tirana twirls about on a heel, sending both her hair and the skirt's hemline floating majestically into the air. "I must admit it is rather stiff and, um, scratchy, but I have been working on blending in better with the worlds I visit! The next time, though, I shall put on something more regal, just for you~"
Then again, her whole reason for arriving may put a damper on that plan. She glances aside at the congregation of devoted wrench-ducking followers, and she steps towards the tall man to tell him quietly, "I am here on a rather personal matter, actually, plus I have an opportunity that would really suit you! Is it possible that we could move to someplace a little more private?"
Graham tilts his head at the princess, then glances at the others who have disinterestedly tuned out. Or at least, they appear to. "Oh, really? Hmmmm...." He nods, moving to slip his arm around Tirana's shoulders to lead her along. "A moment, boys!" he announces, walking back towards the door to step on out.
3x Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "So I'm about to tell a wrench-wielding maniac that I'm not entirely a princess. Is this a wise decision? y/n/walrus"
Kizuna Iyanagi says, "walrus"
Mmmm, frosting. Venetia Martens says, "coo coo cachoo"
Karen White says, "I am in favour of walrus."
Turtle? Gwen Meynolt says, "Walrus."
Turtle? Gwen Meynolt says, "I also vote you phrase it that way and let him draw his own conclusions."
The arm slips around her, and for a moment, Tirana feels tingly. There's a flush to her cheeks, and her smile is even sweeter for the briefest moment. It takes some willpower for her to ignore the urge to lean in to the mechanic, it wouldn't be seemly and he is a bit older, after all. There's also the matter of what she knows that he doesn't, as well as that ever-present wrench. He'll take this news just fine, she reassures herself as they step outside. Juuuuuuuuust fine.
Once their past the doors and out of everyone else's earshot, the Terrestrial turns her eyes up towards her compatriot. There's an almost embarassed downturn to them now, and that flush is a little more prominent now. "Graham, it seems that there was a misunderstanding or, well, I'm not entirely sure what it was actually." Her hands clasp at her bosom, or namely the lack thereof. "However, it seems that I was told a lie since I was born. It seems that I was not suffering a horrible curse, after all. I am, um, well, physically, um, a boy."
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "And there's your welcome back. ;)"
Graham Spector XD
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "Its also been suggested to me to ask you this question:"
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "So I'm about to tell a wrench-wielding maniac that I'm not entirely a princess. Is this a wise decision? y/n/walrus"
Graham Spector says, "WALRUS"
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "That was the overwhelming winner. :D"
And out they go. It would have been an oddly romantic setting, except for the fact that this was not the most wonderful of areas to be, seaside or not. Graham lets his arm fall away from her once they are outside, and he turns to face her now that they've gotten Tirana's requested privacy. He stands there, wrench once again resting over a shoulder, his other hand set at his hip. He arches a brow as she begins.
"Misunderstanding?" He looks at her confusedly, and how much he'd like to tell her to be out with it already. His hand tightens on the wrench anxiously, but he relaxes his grip once Tirana finally gets what she wants to say, out.
...too loose. It takes two seconds for what the princess is trying to say to sink in, and the casual smile that's on Graham's face remains, perhaps due to the loss of how he should properly react to such a thing, and the wrench clangs noisily at his feet as gravity grabs hold. It's a sound that quickly has the men within the warehouse poking their heads out of the doorway in alarmed concern- or perhaps wondering if their boss has finally had it with entertaining the dame. It's a false alarm that still brings some thoughts for caution, especially once Shaft notes the bowed head and the shaking shoulders of his boss- uh oh, silent chuckling never amounts to anything good.
"-PRIVACY," Graham speaks suddenly, his face shadowed by the curtain of blonde locks, "....was requested, gentlemen..." His foot kicks up the wrench abruptly, a gloved hand snatching it out of midair before swinging it to point accusingly at them. All at once they vanish back within the wearhouse confines, and that leaves the mechanic to turn his attention back towards Tirana.
"....a curse," he intones, letting the wrench fall lazily into his other hand, and he bounces it in palm as he begins to slowly circle the girl. "....a curse not a curse, or perhaps more accurately.... a lie. Lies..... lies aren't pleasant, but then some live their lives based on lies! A lie can be a horrible thing or most beneficial! Oh, terrible, terrible things can happen when lies are the basis of truth!" His footsteps cease to circle and he is once again facing Tirana, that blue eye that remains uncurtained by his bangs gleaming dully in the faint light. He points the wrench at her. "BUT! YOU! Our meeting was a lie! The joys and concerns all spawned from it...." The metal is a blur as it's swung down at the cement below their feet. "A." *Crunch!* "LIE." *CRACK*
He leaves the wrench buried in place, deep in the ground as he moves to clasp his hands firmly on Tirana's shoulders. He's laughing again. "
"I'm.... SO RELIEVED....!!"
What?
He's raised his head with this announcement, giving a slight shake to the girl...person... trap. "Thank goodness! I wasn't sure how to break it to you, that things would never work out between us!! You made for interesting and magical as well as entertaining company, but it would have never flown quite well- I prefer older woman, you see.... And being that you are neither one nor the other, PERFECT!" He releases her/his/it's shoulders abruptly to hop back, grasping his wrench once again as he does so. "Haha!! YES! Thank you, Tirana! Thank you for the honesty of your lies!!!!"
He dropped the wrench. His trusted, nay, beloved wrench, the wrench he nearly bashed her brains in with when she tried to sing it out of his hands. And he dropped it.
This, needless to say, was a bad sign.
Tirana doesn't turn to face the growing crowd. Indeed, she is silently relieved when Graham takes care of that matter himself, even if she instinctively shies away from its swinging arc. He wasn't going to hit her, but that was still a little too close for comfort!
Speaking of too close to comfort, the circling isn't doing her nerves any favors either. "Um, well," she tries to start explaining once he's finished, but the shouting kills that with a frightened squeak. The first swing sends her flying back a foot not from the force of the blow, but from sheer panic, the second doesn't send her back any father, but by now her hands are at her mouth and her eyes are wider than hubcaps. They're still that size when he grabs her shoulders. Ohdragonsohdragonsohdragons
... What?
"Um, older, um, women?" She's stumbling over trying to find the words after having swallowed her heart, lungs, and at least one kidney. Thus the faint disappointment isn't heard in her stammering. "Um, well, I didn't know they were lies when I told you! I was lied to as well," she says as her emotions finally regain their spot in her head and now there's a crestfall of disappointment. "If I had known the truth then, I would have never lied to you!"
She bites her lip, then finally cracks a small smile of her own. "There are romantic tales of Dynasts who have run off with, um, opportunists, but if it truly is older women you prefer, then I shall defer to your wishes," she offers with a curtsey. "We can still be friends?"
Graham straightens, smiling horribly as he listens. It was like a great weight he hadn't even been aware he'd been shouldering was lifted from him. He would have certainly liked to leave Tirana to Kadaj for the two had seemed to make for wonderful companions! Nevermind the fact that the Remnant had tried to kill her. The mechanic laughs heartily and feeling quite into the moment of things, returns the curtsy with a bow of his own.
"I should not mind that at all, I think," he replies as he lifts his head. "...does this mean you're going to wear pants now?"
Tirana suddenly has the expression of a kid handed a plate of brussel sprouts. "Pants? Ick," she waves that notion off with a hand, "I may have some issues that need to be, um, dealt with in time, but it is a very large multiverse. There could even be magic in my own world that would, well, make me a /true/ princess." Yeah, those words should make sense. "Its who I am, after all," she smiles with a touch of her heart, "In here."
The mechanic nods, and he might have been joking or just honestly curious. "Oh, well then. It's all a matter of preference anyway!" Graham waves his hand dismissively. He supposes he doesn't care what the girl- boy... whatever- decides to wear since they've got the relationship thing settled. Nodding vigorously, Graham strokes his chin. "Couldn't have said so better myself! Follow your heart, set forth and seek your dreams! In the end it doesn't even matter-! -wait. No, it DOES matter! For you! Not them!"
"Precisely!" Tirana nods vigorously, her hands at her hips in an almost defiant pose. "My dreams have always been my own, and I'll follow them whereever they may go!" If they happen to go to a certain silver-haired maniac, then, well, we'll just have to see then, won't we? They won't be going to a scruffy-haired blonde mechanic, but that's alright. Having opportunists as friends is far easier than having them as something closer.
This reminds her of her other reason she sought out Graham. "Oh! Before I forget, I also had a, um, opportunity for you." This she doesn't personally care if the other guys listen in to, they'll probably be in on this as well if their boss accepts. "You see, I was given information that there's this place somewhere in my own world that, um, well, we can skip the boring parts." Environmentalism doesn't seem to be Graham's forte. "What I wanted to let you know is that there is this rather fantastic machine that we would like to see, um, dismantled." There's a puckish puck to her lips. "I hope I came to the right mechanic."
"Indeed so! Good g-" He catches himself. "Good! Very good!" The grin returns easily, and interest glows on his face as Tirana brings up the second point she wanted to discuss. The mechanic nods, and then slowly that grin broadens and his eyes practically light up at the words she speaks. Or namely three important words.
Fantastic. Machine. Dismantled. Magic words.
"OHO-Reeeeeeeeeeally............!!" he says eagerly, suddenly pushing the personal space issue again. "Ahahaha- you have my interest! You certainly do! What sort of machine? How fast do you need it dismantled- oh, does it matter? I'm excited! Yes! I'll do it!"
Can she pick 'em or what? Tirana's own smile broadens, she doesn't even cringe at the mechanic coming that close to her. "It will be tricky, its guarded by Alchemicals." Oh, right. "Machine people. I am searching for others who can come along with us to fight them off while we access the interior." Its impolite to point, so she simply gestures to Graham, "That's where you come in. Dismantle it quickly, and you can keep whatever you can carry back with you." Harmony might complain, but she's certain she can assauge him. This was an opportunity, after all. Graham needed his payoff!
"MACHINE people?!!" If he gets any more ecstatic about this, he might very well explode! Now the question is, is he more eager about the prospect of dismantling the aforementioned Fantastic Machine, or the Machine People? Graham backs off to allow breathing space, nodding as he strokes his chin thoughtfully again. "Heheheh.... quickly... not a problem, not a problem at all, I should say!" He positively beams back at Tirana. "YOU, have got yourself a mechanic," he says, holding his hand out to Tirana.
That's a very handsome hand you have there, Mr. Spector. Tirana stares at it for a couple moments before she remembers her crash course in non-Realm manners of reaching an agreement. She takes the hand in both of hers and shakes it gently yet firmly, beaming sparkles all over the dock again. "Oh, thank you! I knew I could count on you!"
Graham Spector XD
Tepet Tilis Tirana says, "how you shake hand"
Graham's grip is strong, as one can expect from someone who so casually wields a two foot wrench like a cardboard tube. He shakes Tirana's hand, grinning from ear to ear. "No, no- thank -YOU- for this wonderful prospective opportunity!" he counters, laughing.
"In that case, you're most welcome!" And Father tried telling her this dealmaking business would be tough. Pfft, you just need to know the right people! Tirana lets go, eventually, and thinks over the last details. "I'll let you know when we will be ready to go, I need to talk to some others and assemble the team. It won't be long at all, the sooner we can deal with this, the better." Harmony, possible, perhaps Gale once he's back from doing crazy Realm stuff. Kadaj would be tempting, but him and Graham? Hahahaha, no.
Oh, right. The Remnant had been stalking her, wasn't he? What if he was watching her now? Nah, if he was he would've come dashing in at the destroyer of his motorcycle by now. "Now that business is settled, perhaps we should do dinner before I leave your world? I have not had 'Italian' in quite some time!"
The mechanic nods again. "Right! You know where to find me, then!" He set his wrench across his shoulders behind his head, holding it in place with his wrists draped over either end.
"I think I could go for dinner, yes! That sounds like an excellent idea! Shaft can drive us! There are quite a few good places- if mafia owned- but good nonetheless!" Graham turns to the warehouse. "SHAFT! We're going to dinner! Warm up the car!" he calls.