[ first thread - location: sanctuary - holo ]
For a brief moment, home had finally felt like home again. She and Briar had argued, loudly and with the reasoning of children, but in that small instant of irritation Sandry had seen their old sibling bond. She had stormed around Daja’s house, taking measurements and debating the best fabrics and colors for her foster brother and sisters. That
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"An' no mean to burst your bubble, cityrat, you're in a place where nobility flies about as high as a Drac at a wavehead bar." A large, heavy sigh.
"Just pick up the tablet thing my voice an' face is comin' by, door will open. Boom, you're in a city you've been kidnapped and placed inn. And what does cat dirt haveta do with it?"
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Well, plain as Briar might have when he'd first arrived at Discipline.
"I can see I've been kidnapped," she replies, a little more curtly than she would have under normal circumstances. Her cheeks redden at his mention of her pathetic swearing, but she ignores the question and focuses instead on pulling herself back, loosening up. She's still on edge, and isn't sure what to make of the device or the man's picture on it, but there is a significant lack of authority in her voice when she speaks again.
"A city where?"
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He mutters something about being the welcome wagon, and lets out a huge sigh before continuing.
"You've been kidnapped and brought here by weird creatures that only show up when they want to. Us? We're your allies. Pulled from different worlds. A lot of us seem to be from Earth, or varying states of Earth. Buuuut you never know."
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She eyes his bracelet carefully, then looks back to her own. It appears to be made of the same material, and looks just as foreign and uncomfortable on him as it feels on her. "Taxon...is a prison, then? For what purpose?"
There's a pause as she debates just how to approach the subject without appearing as though she has gone completely mad. Then, tentatively, she adds, "Is Australia a prison as well? I've never heard of one named such." She can only guess it's part of that Earth country.
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"You're pickin' up what I'm puttin' down, though. Nice, motorbaby. Alright, here's the scoop: pick up the tablet thing, the one with my face on it? The door'll open. you'll be lead into the city. Don't bother with anyone that doesn't have a bracelet, they're fucking robots. And more importantly, remember:" Sure, his tone is ominous, but he's a dramatic guy. "Even if they do? Watch your back."
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For as much as she thought she had been following him, some of what he says is completely lost on her. She isn't sure whether or not she should be offended at being called 'motorbaby', but there isn't much time to ponder before he's giving her instructions on how to get out.
Good.
Gingerly, Sandry picks up the tablet. It's lighter than she expected, but the sound of the door opening in the wall distracts her for the moment. An apologetic look crosses her face and she bites her lip. "Robots? I'm terribly sorry, I've just never heard many of the terms you're using. This is all distressingly new to me..."
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"Anyway, tumbleweed. You don't worry about the lingo thing. There's another guy here that's just as confounded as you by all this tech, which is weird for a guy like me, but." Another shrug. "Let's go outside, huh? If you want I can be there in," he checks his watch. "10 minutes to show you the ropes of this place."
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Other things first, then she would track him down. Maybe. If he wanted her to.
"I would hate to ask it," she starts, but the fact that the room is confusing enough, followed by the idea of stepping out into a city that is just as strange and filled with 'tech' stops her. Having someone to show her around, even someone as odd as this young man, is better than floundering about in an unknown place. "But if you don't mind it, I would be very grateful if you could."
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I offered, sunshine. So, Lady Shangri-lee fa-two...whatsitcalled, welcome to this fucked up place. Name's Party Poison.
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"Sandrilene fa Toren," she corrects, "but please call me Sandry. The title doesn't come into play unless it can't be helped." With a last glance around the chamber, Sandry frowns down at her nightgown--meeting someone in her nightclothes, especially a young man, is not something she had been expecting to do--and steps out into the long hallway. Just to make sure she heard him correctly, she repeats, "Party Poison?"
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No mistaking the girl in her nightgown with a bracelet and a familiar lost expression.
"Look alive, sunshine!" He offers a half-wave, shivering against what's freezing for him. "Welcome to Taxon. Wish I wasn't the welcome wagon, but.." A shrug. "Gotta start somewhere." He extends a hand, half-smiling in that 'I can't quite remember how to laugh' way that's all too real for him and Kobra.
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"Alive as I can," she promises Party, wondering at how he can look as cold as she feels in so many layers. A moment of hesitation and she delicately takes his hand. "My brother has just informed me that he is also on his way. I apologize for the trouble you might have taken to come here, and will understand if you would rather leave than wait. It is much warmer inside..."
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So's Party, of course, acclimated to desert and radiation, but he doesn't like to show it and he instead is opening the trunk of the trans-am, pulling out a large blanket and offering it to her. "Here." And, because old habits die hard: "Free of charge, tumbleweed, you're in your damn nightgown."
He shuts the trunk, though, sitting on it, feet balanced precariously, and points, things clicking together.
"Your brother's totally Briar. You guys talk the same, all big words with no meanin'."
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She can feel the fibers of the blanket reaching out for her, offering warmth and comfort, before she even touches it. This material doesn't know her like the cloth at home does, and it takes several scoldings before the threads settle and behave.
It's no surprise that he's put her and Briar together, really, not with the way they all seem to speak here. Funny, how it doesn't even require an explanation in a foreign place when people at home constantly questioned them. "He's my foster brother, yes," Sandry confirms, tucking her chin into the blanket and wondering whether she should be offended by the second piece of that statement or not. Not, she decides. Blanket says not.
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"I'll be there. Or Kobra Kid. He's my brother: same eyes as me, blonde hair, pinched jaw, never really talks that much? Look for these," he turns around, showing his Party Poison logo, and then points out Kobra's symbol on the car, "on the walls of Taxon's buildings."
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