Organic Status Report

Log Info

• Title: Organic Status Report
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, MAC-B1G, Zeke
• Place: Lower Markets
• Time: December 14th, 2021
• Summary: On a chilly morning outside a teahouse, Aryia is conversing with two dawn elves over a pot of tea. MAC-B1G arrives, seeking out the organic to gather a status report after a fault IFF malfunction. Aryia asserts she's fine, even showing off the massive bruise on her abs that the machine left. MAC suggests getting it buffed out just as Zeke arrives. The makari gives Aryia a gift, a scented candle, for her efforts and gratitude. She accept it was a teary smile. MAC observes that Zeke had brought the buffing solution, and Zeke corrals MAC off so Aryia could resume conversation with the two dawn elves.

Lower Markets, Morning.

It's a fair weather day. Opens skies, icy roads, a chill in the air. Winter settling into its full swing. Commerce is slowly getting started, emboldened further by the recent Tribune.

Outside a small teahouse is a patio with a small fire, heating up a few tables that surround it. At one table is a scarred mul'neissa woman, bundled up in a green jacket and a black shawl with a cup of warm tea in her hands. Sitting with her is two dawn elves, a man and a woman. There's quiet conversation, the duo talking, the mute gesturing, the woman looking to the man for a translation before the cycle resumes. The shadow elf rubs the side of her head occasionally, which causes the conversation to slow to a standstill every now and then.

Commerce. Some shop. Some eat. Some walk. Still others hold little or nor association with the former options and simply walk. Heavy strides reverberate across the stones, some of the ice crushed or pressure-melted from them as several hundred kilos of adamantine and laminated hardwoods tromp amidst the consumers.

The drab gray faceplate rotates as MAC moves, cyan receptors scanning its surroundings and placing a heavy surge upon its biological-recognition routines. Whatever it searches for, it may well be noticed by sought before it locates its quarry. Stealth was not a design parameter.

"So... Z- ah, Aryia. Do you still enjoy artisanal bread?" the woman asks, folding her hands atop the table.

The mute's face scrunches up some, her looking up and off to the side. "I... don't... remember," she signs slowly. Gestures that she's been repeating a number of times this conversation. Both the dawn elves sigh. <Handspeech>

"That is all well. Now, what is this with your name in the paper-" the man starts to inquire, but stops short.

Three sets of long ears twitch, and heads turn.

"... what in Ta-..." "... who's is..."

The mute blinks, catching the two elves growing tense. She knocks her knuckles against the table and makes a calming gesture, palm down before raising a hand in greeting from across the way to the metal machine.

The dawn elves look at Aryia like she's crazy.

The rotating faceplate pauses upon the collection of mul'niessa. A moment passes as biometric points are analyzed. The construct's course alters to plod towards the trio until it comes to an abrupt halt before the table. "Unit designate Aryia," it vocalizes," status update. Do you require repair?" The faceplate pitches down as it scans her chassis in more detail.

The two llyranesi across from Aryia tense up as the massive war golem looms over them. The hand of the woman twitches to her side.

Aryia's head slowly tips back as MAC settles in. She blinks twice, brows pinching together for a moment before a faint 'ah' sound comes from her. She rises, pulling up her jacket to show her scarred stomach. A circular bruise the size of a MAC fist was firmly in place, painted across her abs.

She drops the jacket back into place, and shakes her head. She picks up the journal from the table, scribbles something down, then holds it up to the machine.

"I'll be fine. Thank you for asking. You hit like a bag of bricks."

The two dawn elves just stare silently at the exchange in disbelief.

The subtle shift in weather makes shopping easier for Zeke, and he has been searching the market district for something in particular. A thing which he has had some success in finding since it seems he has a bag laid over one claw. The bag itself is somewhat small and and seems to have no identifying features on it, so whatever is inside is a mystery. He is just now, quite by cooincidence headed toward one of the teahouses. Tea after all is a favorite of Zeke's when a small commotion draws his attention toward Aryia and Mac.

He blinks at the unfamiliar construct, particularly when Aryia partially disrobes to show what looks to be a nasty bruise to the others at her table. This is notable to him because most soft-skins are quite particular about their clothing. Also the bruise. Curiosity, concern, and one other thing draw him toward the table in time to see the message written and held out toward the construct. "Peasssce..." His words stall slightly but he picks up again quickly. "On your nessstsss."

MAC-B1G does not possess detailed files on anatomy, humanoid nor otherwise. It accepts the explanation and attributes the marking to merely that. "Surface discoloration can be removed with appropriate abrasive compound and buffing material," it advises Aryia before scanning the document. "Close combat included in priority design. Update: IFF system restored, corruptive data infiltration removed."

It's faceplate subsquently rotates around towards Zeke after hearing his words. It scans him briefly before one primary manipulator suddenly lifts out horizontally. The fore portion then articulates vertically at the joint and begins oscillating regularly at the joint. "Greeting protocols initiated."

The two dawn elves sitting across from Aryia, man and woman, blink owlishly at Zeke's arrival, as well as the exchange between man and machine. "Peace on your nest," they both say at the same time, somewhat hesitantly. Perhaps unnerved from the lumbering war machine nearby.

Aryia looks down from MAC to Zeke, her giving the bluescale a down-nod in greeting, followed by familiar gestures of "Peace on your nest." She eyes the bag the makari is carrying and tilts her head to the side. "Busy day?" <Handspeech>

The pugilist raises a brow at MAC, her slowly writing something else on the page. Only to pause and stifle a snicker by biting her lip before resuming. The page is shown once more.

"IFF? I don't know what that is. Regardless, if that happens again, do you know the best way to, uh, turn your arms off or something?"

The other elves sip their tea quietly.

Aryia is not the only one trying to parse through the constructs meaning. Some of what he is saying makes as little sense to Zeke as it does to anyone else standing nearby. Still, he recognizes that the other wants to exchange the customary soft-skin greeting and is offering its subsquent digets for shaking. Thus after a brief moment of hesitation Zeke offers his own limb and shakes 'hands' with the other.

Taking the claw back, Zeke seems to relax somewhat, and the offers from everyone else of peace upon his nest seems to enhance this. Thus he is well aware of Aryia's note of his bag, and assumes - correctly - that her gestures are questioning of it. "Thisss one hass been ssshoping, trying to find sssome-thing that would expresss thisss oness gratitude for your aid, and for your honoring of thisss onesss kin." He prooffers the bag to Aryia then. Shifting his tail in the manner of sith-makar pleasure. He is hopeful obviously, that she will like what he has found for her. "Thisss one wasss lucky enough to find sssome-thing, and to find you. Thisss one hopess that you will accept it, and... thisss one offersss healing ass well, ssshould you dessire it."

"Core system module, Identification: Friend or Foe. Purpose: Detect, identify, and prioritize threats. Alternate nomenclature: DIPS, TEDS; Threat Evaluation and Detection Sytem." It clarifies. A simple explanation and logical naming convention. For... someone? Possibly?

It lowers its manipulator and further explains, "Altered parameters prevented detection of altered paramters. Task force units detected as threats, this unit responded. Corruption only detected after, this unit halted."

It then shifts its attention between Zeke and Aryia. They are not the only individuals with difficult parsing; only the topics vary. Material offering. Gratitude. It parses more before. "Unit designate Aryia requires buffing compound. You deliver buffing compound."

Aryia blinks at Zeke's words, her head tilting further to the side as he speaks. The bag is taken in hand without thinking, a look of surprise and praise on her visage. Her expression softens to a light smile, her nodding slowly and reaching in.

She pulls out a glass container, filled with a minty smelling wax, with an unburnt wick in the center. A candle. Her eyes widen ever so slightly, the light they give off dimming some. Her lips mouth a name in silence. She holds it to her chest, a soft sigh leaving her before setting the gift aside to step forward towards Zeke.

She gives him a brief, yet firm, hug. "... th-nks..." he could just barely pick up from her hisses before she pulls away, wiping at the her eyes with the back of a hand. Gift accepted.

Journal back in her hands, she scribbles more down, and shows it to the makari.

"I'm working on one for you and the others. It's just going to take a bit."

She watches MAC, listening to his explanation before nodding slowly. Yet, she blinks, then silently laughs. She writes some in her journal, pauses for a moment, then resumes writing. Much, much slower before showing it to both of theme.

"Zeke doesn't need to heal me. Rest will take care of it. Thank you for your concern though."

Then, under that, in an almost blueprint-like script: "Buffing compound for the heart meets adequate parameters." <Kulthian>

Zeke is duly surpised by the reaction that his present recieves, but it seems that he has done well in his search. His return of the hug in question is awkward, her thanks is noted and taken to heart and he bows his head to her as she returns to her table. "Thisss one isss pleasssed that you are recovering then." His eyes flicker toward the pair who have been silent this whole time, and then to the construct who is insistant on 'buffing' Aryia's injuries away. Swishing his tail in amusement, he shakes his head. "Perhapsss we ssshould leave Aryia in peassce to return to her conversssation? Thisss one would be happy to explain sssoft-sskin healing and repair to you, ssso that you might underssstand it better? If you will sssit with thiss one while thisss one hasss sssome tea?"

The two dawn elves idly comment to the other quietly, a bit detached from the conversation between scaled, softskin, and machine.

"Is she okay? What's the candle for?"

"Wait... did that thing... hit her? How does she still stand?"

"What's that she wrote? Did... we teach her that?"

-End Scene-