kismet_loop_logs | "Home" is a shelter from storms

Entry tags:

"Home" is a shelter from storms

Who: Hiro, Sam, eventually Dirge, ETA: Breakdown
What: Since Hiro has to have somewhere to stay, Sam's helping him get situated.
When: Following this thread
Where: The Hub.
Warnings: Dirge, and predictably, profanity.

From the hall, there was little to distinguish Sam’s apartment. Its door was one among many in the human-scale section of the Hub’s habitation wing, and could’ve easily been exchanged for any of the others found on the third floor. Still, it was Sam’s, and even outside that showed. It was in her ‘here we are’ attitude, and the way she set a shoulder against the doorframe in pausing. Some introduction seemed appropriate, so…

She shrugged, smiling.

“It’s not my house, but all the same? ‘Enter freely, go safely, and leave something of the happiness you bring.’”

That said, she opened the door.

The room it opened onto wasn’t unusual in its design (a kitchenette with a partial wall, the principle living space, one wide window with a decent view, closet, corridor) but it was unusual in its décor---burnished copper covered the floor, the walls, the ceiling, in solid sheets. It wasn’t entirely unbroken, as darkly-varnished branches had been laid across the walls like latticework, and a couple of shaggy rag rugs covered a portion of the floor. A third (green, rust-red, and ochre, like the others) had been thrown over the couch, which was wicker (matching most of the furniture) and more of a stubby settee.

“It was weird enough I fell in love when I found it.”

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That natural, nonchalant dismissal got a "Good," before the past tense could give the adept pause. It hit a second after she spoke---Sam was not inobservant---but by then she had already turned away, to start for what was once a spare room.

"Why is that an issue? It only has tree oil in it, and some of my other soap has tea tree oil in it. It is," she began, turning back, "supposed to be good for your skin. And I guess we can go now, if you don't want to bother eyeballing the space we need to find furnishings for. Kids these days... bad enough, but kids from the not-too-terribly-far future? Augh, so impatient."

Hiro lets out a breath he hadn't been conscious of holding -- he doesn't want to tiptoe around the facts, but at the same time, he can't stand any more sympathy. Not yet. Plus she's walking towards the rest of the mysterious apartment, perhaps towards where she grows the soap trees.

This next comment make him falter a little, this time in surprise. "Space? I thought, uh...I thought. Um. The couch is okay, really." NOW he gets manners, jeez.

"You thought what?" Sam turned, crossing her arms and cocking her head. "Even if you take the couch, we gotta at least get you bedding and sh---stuff, and while you could claim the couch for a few nights, I don't think you'd really want to. Lounging around is fine, but to lie on long...? Even an air mattress would be better. 'Air' or 'actual' and how much we'll be hauling I guess depends on how long you want to hole up here, but if it's 'the forseeable future...?'"

She straightened, both shoulders bobbing.

"Then the experience I've accumulated in my moves is going to come in hella handy."

Hiro is quiet for a moment, before smiling a little, sort of shyly. "Y'know, I've never actually had a room all to myself before," he says finally, shuffling from one foot to the other.

That's his way of saying "thank you".

"Yeah? One more reason I have to hope you'll like what you see. C'mon!" Sam flashed a smile (flashed was the word, since it was broad and bright and winning) and pivoted, one hand rising in a this way! wave.

The room offered had a sliding door, which opened in and over---a little like the way SUV side doors did, when opened from the inside. The room it revealed would've been unremarkable, if it wasn't weird. Maybe marginally larger than most dormitory singles, it had the same copper covering the rest of the apartment did, but without the bare-branch lattice. Two ventilation grills at cross-corners of floor and ceiling ensured an airflow, and though the room was entirely empty, it was at least well-lit.

"Not a lot to look at now, but I'll bet it'll be easily bettered."

Hiro is confident enough now that he does his usual lanky-teenage-legs-are-hard-to-handle!lope after Sam, skidding to a halt and looking around the coppery room. It's...different. It isn't like his room at home, and Hiro's starting to think that's for the best. But it's bright and empty and full of possibilities.

So he gives a smile of his own, lopsided and crooked and genuine. "It's awesome."

It wasn't the assessment so much as the simple sincerity of it which got Sam grinning, but the adjective 'awesome' still played a part.

"And all yours, for what I'm assuming will be at least a few months." Her grin shrank a little, since the topic of assumption was 'moderately' to 'more' serious, but stayed. "I know it doesn't do to assume, and even if the house rules are agreeable, you might decide to move out once you're used to how Haven is, but I've never had a roommate arrangement last less than four months, and never had one end due to a disagreement. I think this will work. I this will work well. I got a good feeling about it, since your teasing isn't too bad and you take the return fire with good grace. That said..."

That said, she had the perfect excuse---and opportunity, what with standing at the doorway---to reach over and muss Hiro's hair with one quick right-left ruffle.

"...we should probably finish the ten-cent tour and get going. My room's about the same, just has some stuff in it, and I'll show you if you want to see. Haven't got anything to put in the storage closet yet, but it's back by the door into the apartment and could probably be converted to a third bedroom. It'd be a tiny bedroom, but it's still a closet big enough to plausibly become one. The bathroom, you might as well see for yourself. Down this way." Unlike the other rooms, it was't copper---but for the fixtures, countertop, standing bowl sink, tub, and toilet, which was old-fashioned enough to have a pull-chain for flushing---but tiled, floor to ceiling and ceiling, too. The tile was, unsurprisingly, backed glass and a light coppery colour.

Hiro is actually sort of glad for the hair-ruffle, because things are starting to get very genuine and he's still very tired and emotional from the whole "new planet" thing, and it was only a matter of time before some Serious Protagonist Speech happened. That said, omg, Sam, how rude.

He'll still be smoothing his hair down (in vain, because that 'do will never be tamed) when he peeks into the bathroom. The color gets an arched eyebrow. "I'm...sensing a design theme here, dude."

Rude? No regrets.

Sam spread her arms (best she could, standing so near someone) as if to say it was what it was; she had no explanation, or excuse. "It was like that when I got here. Most of the apartment was. I took down the hammock whoever had it last had up, and brought some stuff in---mostly for my room---but yeah. Why? We may never know. I ever find the original occupant, I'm more curious as to why there are some scratch marks around the front door at the top of the frame, instead of the floor." She meant to ask after that... even if she risked regretting it. Whatever the answer, she'd regret a missed opportunity to ask more.

"You'll see them when we go out again. Given where where're going, you'll have to give me a minute." Motioning to Hiro to follow her, Sam started for the living room. Her communications drone was there on its threshhold, hovering in the nomansland junction of the entrance and kitchenette. She waved the little robot over, and began to type out a text. "You'll also have to give me your word on something serious, since I'd really rather have nothing horrible happen to you. The warehouse has all sorts of stuff, and sure, we're going to stock up there, but don't go alone, okay? Like, ever. Have me or Wing or someone with you."

Hiro's crouching down to examine the bathroom tiles a little closer, but he looks up and in the general direction of the front door, frowning thoughtfully. Scratch marks and hammocks and copper. There's only one logical explanation:

"Must have been a werewolf."

...well, it could have been! This place is full of robots, after all. That settled, Hiro scrambles up and after Sam, brightening a little at the little drone. His own is where he left it on the couch, staying put like a good little bot. The request gets a momentary frown.

"Why? Will they dissect me and sell my liver to Jupiter?" ...he's only partially kidding. Considering he doesn't even want to be in the other room by himself, he won't be wandering off anytime soon.

~~...it's only a matter of time, though. Let's be honest.~~

"I've seen some shit, so," This time, the word was out before Sam could censor herself, but softened somewhat by her half-joking. "specify an especially neat werewolf---I've only seen my own shed hairs here---and it's perfectly plausible. An American Werewolf In Haven? Maybe not quite, but maybe close."

She stopped texting to answer, unsmiling. Before, she'd been more or less serious for certain assertions, but now? She was entirely serious. "Because Dirge." The adept pulled her drone to the side and sighed, PTC floating obediently at her elbow.

"I'll give you the quick, condensed version. As far as I know, all of the giant robots we have hanging around run off of energon, except Dirge, who runs off of energon and literally anything he can cram down his throat. Chunks of metal, normal fuel stuff, normal food stuff, and abnormal food stuff. The last thing is the thing that matters, because Dirge does not understand why there's something inherently wrong with eating people." She paused, one hand rising to smooth over her hair. "I don't think he's eaten anybody here, and a lot pf people have made it clear that if he does, he's going to be made to regret it, but it's still something we don't trust him not to do and only part of the problem. The rest stems from Dirge being the greediest jerk you're ever gonna have the misfortune of meeting. He can be bartered with, but he doesn't give anything up easily, and he's kind of claimed the warehouse where basically all the non-grocery goods Haven has to offer are. This doesn't mean we can't take stuff---I've been, since he moved in---but it does mean we'll have to be careful about it, take some precautions."

Hiro looks mildly startled (because come on, he has the ULTIMATE boy scout for an older brother. Had. Either way, swearing isn't something he's used to), but he has to grin, because Sam's quick to follow it up with a joke. That's another thing he's noticing, and it's a relief to see the kidding around wasn't just an act. "Maybe it was some super-neat-freak guy who just happened to go all claws and fangs once a month. Everyone's got problems."

Still, he'll go over to scoop up his own drone, giving it a few nudges until it hovers beside him as well (he did throw it at a pig a few times, so he'll be gentle). The reasons behind their caution get a startled laugh, just because it's so weird. A giant robot who eats like a garbage disposal. It's a little unnerving, but at the same time sort of awesome. "For real? Can he even digest all that stuff? Do robots even have a digestive system? Also how come he hasn't eaten everything in the warehouse yet?"

Sam's inclination to kid wasn't an act at all---it was ingrained. Joking about something until it stopped being strange (and often, even after) had long been her habit, and in Haven, the strangeness was sustained. "Too bad for him, lucky for me, and luckily, I haven't heard howling." Hoping that wouldn't change, she took a step the the side and knocked on one of the little woodblocks her wall unit held.

"Yes, apparently, and this one does, along with the soul of an especially avaricious magpie." She stepped back, taking her drone in hand. "If he ate everything, he wouldn't be able to use any of it past that point---not for its intended purpose, not for trading, not for selling. A thing's worth is a big deal to Dirge, and however he assesses that, usefulness is a factor. Beyond that, it's hard to say what's up in his crazymaking head."

If Sam had been about to add anything else, her drone's chirping cut it off. She turned the little robot to better see its screen, and then released it, looking pleased.

"You and I won't have to worry about that too too much today, though. Finish your pop, get your shoes on, and we'll go. I said before I wasn't too proud to call for back-up? Seems we've got some coming."

Hiro is naturally a ~~snarky little shit~~ joker, so it's 100% due to Sam's kidding around that he isn't currently hiding in his new room and refusing all social contact. Rather, he's chugging down the rest of his soda, burping loudly (gross) and giving the woodblock a curious look.

Well. Time enough to ask later. Now they're going places and hopefully getting stuff. Hiro wants to ask a million questions -- are they going to ride on that weird skidoo thing? How are they going to carry everything? What are they going to barter with, considering the whole no-currency thing?

But he sticks to: "Back-up?"

Although she'd been pulling her boots on by Hiro's belch, Sam paused to hold up one fanned hand... and the first two fingers of the other. 7/10 isn't bad, but while the burp had both volume and pitch, its length was lacking. An immature assessment, maybe, but after living alone for a year and change, having a roommate once more would be sort of strange---if still a welcome change, and a strange she would have some fun with.

"You're going to meet him in a minute." That was it; the entire explanation before Sam started for the door. She stopped in the hallway, waiting for Hiro to shove his sneakers on and come along, but didn't say anything else (in spite of the kid's curiousity) until they made it to a door that opened on outside---then it was her happy "Breakdown, hey!

Breakdown was waiting. He stood in the street across from the place Sam had claimed as her own, big hands on wide hips and just...waiting. Sam's voice draws his attention and he gives her a bit of a lopsided smile, shifting to go to a knee. Hey, it puts him at a more conversational distance.

"This the 'guest'?" He eyed Hiro. Scrawny little thing, wasn't he?

Hiro takes a moment to scowl (because that burp was at least an 8.5, thank you very much) then clatters along after Sam. There might need to be a preventative apology to any neighbors, since Hiro, like most teenagers, sounds like a herd of elephants whenever he goes anywhere. Considering his relative tininess, that's actually sort of impressive.

The zillions of questions that Hiro still has (up to and including some petulant whining about who "he" is), disappear when he does, in fact, see for himself. His first reaction is to freeze in the doorway -- he's only been here for like a day, he's not used to giant robots being the norm -- but his second is, of course: snark.

"What if Dirge eats him? Then we're totally screwed."

"Yeah. Hiro, Breakdown, Breakdown, Hiro Hamada." Grateful that the second Hiro had spent still and (importantly!) silent had afforded her time enough for introductions, Sam turned on the teen, amused and---for a moment---mock-incredulous. "Oh, ye of little faith! While you're right in that we'd be just wholly hooped, it's not going to happen."

Breakdown smirks, one massive hand transforming into a massive mallet. "He'll find me rather hard to swallow." He smacks that hammer into his other palm, a confident, and almost eager, grin on his face.

...Breakdown is now the coolest one, sorry Sam, you're still awesome, but you can't turn your hand into a mallet.

Sam does get a wide-eyed, almost hopeful look. "Do you think he'll try?" Aka: is Hiro gonna get to see a huge robot fistfight?

"I didn't know you could do that!" There were no apologies necessary---Sam was as impressed as her guest, and it showed. She started towards the big bot in the same breath she'd spoken, obviously intending to inspect what had been his hand. "I don't even know if it's the just-you 'you' or the you-guys 'you' I should be using. Can all Cybertronians do that, or something similar? Do you have other rearrangements?"

She cast a glance over her shoulder to Hiro, unwilling to ignore his question in favour of her own. "Maybe? Good sense should stop him, but for all his greed, that's one thing Dirge seems to be short on. It probably depends on if we piss him off."

Ooooh, did he just show off? Well, maybe a little. He smirks and puts the hammer down on the ground for the two humans to inspect.

"Not all, but a number of us can change out our hands for something. My partner has a buzz-saw and a drill, me, just a couple of hammers." He'll let his other hand change, then change back.

And of course Hiro is right over there to poke and prod and examine this awesome hand-hammer up close. "Woahhhhhh dude! How do you do that?!" He's not totally expecting an explanation beyond "because it's awesome" but lbr he'll totally accept that.

Unabashed in her investigation--both palms pressed to the hammer as she stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Hiro, insofar as the youth stood still--Sam concluded "That is so cool."

She leaned forward a little, wondering at the seeming seamlessness of the metal beneath her hands, and sounded hopeful in asking, "Do it again, please? Can you do it slower, or is it a started-no-stopping-no-slowing sort of thing?"

Edited 2015-04-21 00:15 (UTC)

"I can slow it down a little bit." He'll pull his hammer back and change it back to his hand as slowly as possible. It's not too slow, but should be slow enough for them to catch some more details. "Better?"

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