6. Bombay (open spam plus privates for Iris and Sylvanas)

[heisrisen]

[Open spam]

[He sits on the deck, legs crossed and feet bare, sketching endlessly. His hands will always be as deft as they were when he died, steady and inhumanly precise from years of minute neural surgery too revolutionary at the time for medical drones to have any programming for it. It's his mind that needs the toil, needs to entrain itself again by focusing on all the details his memory can supply. So he draws, cityscapes of thriving worlds, the landmarks of odd and extravagant cultures, nuanced portraits of steadfast servants and political challengers alike.

Sometimes, when he looks up, he gets a little lost in the deep blackness beyond the barge, eyes fading to the distance until the striped marmalade cat gamboling near him headbutts his elbow and yowls for attention. He stutters when it happens, then smiles and scratches Mel's ears, forcing himself to concentrate again in spite of the terrible pressure of darkness held above and around him by whatever invisible dam.]


[Spam for anyone who might be in the laboratory.]

[He investigates the various samples from Megamind's world with obvious fascination, alternating between gross morphological examination, pouring over gene sequences, and plugging the occasional piece of data onto a rough planetary ecology simulation program he hashed out on one of the terminals. He lapses into something like an academic fugue after a little while, lost to the world beyond the information he's processing, unaware of time passing.]


[Private to Iris]

We have some information prepared for you. Let us know where and when you'd like to meet.


[Spam for Sylvanas]

[He knocks on her door the day after the return from port.]

Special delivery for Lady Sylvanas.

Comments

[labspam]

[megamind]

[ Megamind is happy in his labwork; there's skip in his step and still jaunty from a merry weekend turning into a merry week. He's rehydrated one of the small rodents, and the thing is quite docile, even after having some blood drawn. ]

[ It is placed in a glass-sided case to run about and chew on bit of bark sample while he gets the blood in the centrifuge to spin down and separate.]

So, are you enjoying things so far?

[ May as well be friendly. The Emperor's a helper! MEgamind likes helpers. ]

[labspam]

[heisrisen]

[He doesn't stumble exactly, because he's not standing up. But he sort of jerks and startles out of his reverie.]

- oh. Yes, we suppose.

[He rubs his forehead.]

Though what we wouldn't give for proper synesthesia right about now...

[labspam]

[megamind]

Synesthsia? Like-- seeing red but tasting sound?

[ He's not sure that's what the Emperor needs, but-- you know. Asking. ]

[labspam]

[heisrisen]

[He chuckles a little, surprised.]

Right. It did used to mean that, didn't it? No, though it's related.

Neural implants, fairly standard for the last sixty years. They override the secondary sensory portions of the brain and devote them temporarily to processing incoming data, so you can interface with two or three datastreams at once.

It's marvelously useful, but ours is offline at the moment, and we aren't sure we could get this equipment to transmit to it properly anyway.

[labspam]

[megamind]

Interesting. You and Tosh-- [ Well, okay maybe that's not the best comparison. ] She has some, uh, implant that allowed her a more direct interface with a computer.

I don't think it was quite like what you're suggesting though.

[routemistress]

Tomorrow night do you? Pub, spa, my place, yours or d'you need the lab for this?

[heisrisen]

Just fine. Let's make it yours. We'd like privacy and our room is a bit cramped for meetings.

[permutates]

Cute cat.

[ She'd wanted to have a pet, with Charles. But it somehow never quite came together. She had the feeling that Charles didn't really want that - she could be wrong. Maybe he was just busy.

She is blue-skinned right now, though it might be obvious in her posture that she's... afraid. Not quite afraid, maybe; tense, certainly. Waiting for someone to have a negative reaction.

She crouches. ] May I?

[ Making friends. She needs to make friends. Friends are good. ]

[heisrisen]

Of course. Mel loves meeting new people.

[And sure enough, he's already starting to rub his head hopefully under her fingers. The Emperor flips to a clean page.]

Our apologies if this is too forward, but may we draw you?

[permutates]

[Friendly! Cats can bite, and scratch, which is why Raven usually tries to ask first. Owners generally have a better idea of their pet's behavior than a stranger.

She glances up, a little sharply, at the question.]

Draw me?

[heisrisen]

[He reclines a little just to look at her, content in it. She reminds him of some Utopian baroness, a century and a half ago, when palette swaps were in vogue on Sita, but the dappled texture of her is more organic, less expansively extravagant.]

Yes. You're very lovely.

[permutates]

[Her glance is suspicious.]

Not just weird?

[But the cat gets none of her suspicion; it melts her, and she smiles a little as it flops at the touch of her fingers.]

Spam. we should thread surgery but idk where to start :/a

[darknessb4me]

[At first it looks like Arthas is going to ignore the Emperor and walk straight past him, but he comes to a halt at the railing and calls over his shoulder:]

Thanks.

[heisrisen]

You are welcome.

[He says each word specifically; it transforms the phrase from a reflexive courtesy into one with literal meaning.]

We took certain oaths, as a doctor. We have not kept them well. But we are glad we could assist.

[OOC: yeah O_O someone would have had to contact him about doing IC and he'd be there, but I am not sure who would do it, since other than having the necessarily skills he was not really in the loop. And I have been swamped with work and didn't pursue it, OTL]

get me on aim or plurk when you have time, we can talk about how it went down :Ta

[darknessb4me]

I'm sleeping again. I can fall asleep, and dream. I haven't been able to outside of a breach in a long time.

o7 will do

[heisrisen]

Are you pleased with your dreams?

[It's interesting. The Emperor sleeps, a little, but he does not dream. He wonders, about both Arthas and himself, if they could possibly be pleasant dreams after all he has done, or if something about them is so vital that it simply does not matter.]

[darknessb4me]

[Arthas looks over his shoulder for a moment, then turns back to the stars over the rail.]

No. But it's still progress.

[spam]

[forsaken_queen]

[Of all the men who'd knocked on her door since she'd been brought to the ship, only he could lay claim to the dubious honor of saying she didn't make him jump through hoops or threaten violence in any fashion to get her to open it to him.

Of course, he's not getting invited in. At least not, at the moment. She comes out.]

I was beginning to wonder.

[spam]

[heisrisen]

[Getting her a bow and arrows in LA is kind of a hoop. Her standards are therefore intact. He unslings a large gym bag from his shoulder and offers it to her.]

One bow, quiver, and a compliment of arrows. Probably somewhat more metallic than you're used to, but we got the least mechanical one we could find.

[spam]

[forsaken_queen]

[Maybe next time he could try his luck without getting her a bribe. Who knows?

The bag she takes and unzips it. And when she sees the actual bow, there's a strange look that crosses her face so fast, it would be easy to miss; a softening to her features. She takes the recurve bow from the bag, and examines it, careful and thorough. She almost forgets he's still standing there with her, but after a moment she replaces the bow in the bag, with a visible reverence. It's not the Sunstrider Bow, but it was an excellent piece of weaponry.]

You chose well. You have my gratitude.

[spam]

[heisrisen]

[He's smiling when she looks up, a different slant than the cheery playfulness when he arrived, warm and satisfied - at watching her reaction, before the compliment.]

We'd love to watch you wield it.

[This isn't flattery, just the truth - he appreciates skill, and he can tell from the way she handles the weapon that even practicing would be something to see.]

[beingdifferent]

[The deck is framed so closely by that curve of stars and space that it unnerves Esther. She has stepped on several times -- for privacy, she tells herself -- but it's really to face her fear, to acclimate herself to the void outside and stare unblinking at it. It hadn't happened yet, but it would.

Maybe today. Today she gets a lucky distraction: a young man, handsome, proud in his bearing even while absorbed in his art. Esther steps forward eagerly as if intent on stroking the marmalade cat's fur, smile bright.]

Good evening! Is this your cat?

[heisrisen]

[He glances up, smiles.]

Yes. His name is Melchior.

[He nods slightly at her half-movement toward the cat, warm permission.]

Go on. He likes the attention.

[beingdifferent]

That's the name of a Magi.

[She sinks down to her knees, reaching out to stroke the cat's ears. When he doesn't seem to mind she scratches behind them, searching out a purr.]

He's very handsome. Does he know it?

[heisrisen]

He knows he's handsome. All cats do.

[He grins. Mel is a bit lanky, not really a kitten any longer but not quite full grown, either.]

If you mean his name - we think he knows a good deal less about the magi than you do, but he answers to it on occasion, when it suits him. Often enough that we believe he recognizes it.