We're Riding Solo

[digthefuzz]

Who: The crew of the Huntress and any visitors!
Broadcast: Nope!
Action: The Huntress!
When: From now-ish until later-ish?! Go nuts!

[Time to get away from the icy ravages of the planet? Or see what happens when the Huntress tries to make the Kessel Run in 12 parsecs? All your threading needs are here!]

Comments

[avaricious]

Well, well. Looks like someone's been hunting. Is that for the whole crew?

[He might be the deeper voiced Homunculus just now, but he's still burdened with Ling's voracious appetite. Somehow he just knew to come when there was meat on the menu.]

[notkittenaround]

Naturally. No matter my appetite, I could not devour this much.

[ Her ears flick back to listen, but she does not turn her head; Instead, she tosses some sauce bottles onto the counter, frowning as a little raw meat blood drips down. ]

Bring me a towel. I will need something greater than what is already here.

[avaricious]

[For a moment he glares daggers because he doesn't take lightly to being ordered around. He is after all recently liberated from his Father's commands.

... but she did just ask him to get a towel. So he somehow manages to compose himself into acting like the two hundred year old adult he sort of is and fetches a towel. He holds it out for her, but shows no willingness to assist outside that.]

That's some bag you're carrying there. You brought all of this with just that?

[notkittenaround]

[ She reaches to take the towel, and throws it to the floor so she can mop it with her feet. ]

Thank you.

[ Before resuming her careful organization. She doesn't question that he would obey her; a mix of respect on her own world for her deeds, and her youth in her matriarchal kind, makes it as natural as breathing.

And now her concern turns to the cooking. ]

Indeed, for carrying it in my arms would have been a burden, and attract more beasts. Do you know how to use this machine?

[avaricious]

[Greed has the benefit of coming from a world with some rudimentary technology, but that's far away from anything with microwaves. He peers at the box for a few moments, then at the various buttons numbered on the side. Well, that seemed straightforward enough.]

You tried pressing these yet?

[notkittenaround]

In truth, whenever I have seen a machine with such numbers, it mostly turned out to be a bomb.

[ She almost misses the days when her time was filled with the simplicity of dodging explosions. ]

[avaricious]

Is that right? [He takes a step back and gestures.] Ladies first.

[notkittenaround]

If you choose to hide behind me, so be it. But know that you would be better served kneeling behind the table. My body is not a great shield.

[ She begins to prod in some numbers with an unshaking finger. ]

[avaricious]

And miss the show? Not a chance.

[... besides, he's a quick healer.]

[notkittenaround]

[ ... Ding! ]

I understand now. The numbers count down the length of warmth, not the length of time before an explosion. Do you know how to use a butcher's knife?

[avaricious]

[Well, that was disappointing. His expression fades when nothing particularly interesting happens.]

... you have me mistaken for someone else. I'm not the ship cook. I'm tactical support.

[... whatever the hell that means.]

[notkittenaround]

Nor am I, and I do not intend to make great culinary delights.

[ She's finding a knife herself, testing the edge lightly. ]

But it is merely cutting helpless meat into chunks and placing it in this machine, and it would take great clumsiness to remove your own fingers.

[avaricious]

Is that so? Well, I'd hate to see you go without fingers. [With one hand he picks up the biggest knife he can find in the room. The other hand begins to turn black as his fingertips turn into claws. Now that he's converted them to an indestructible carbon, there's no reason to worry about cutting any fingers.]

I expect I'll get a fair portion for my labor.

[notkittenaround]

[ Marhi glances over his hand, taking it in with academic interest. It's not her chosen weapon of battle, but she has been hunting and skinning beasts since her very youth - slicing the meat takes little thought. ]

I would not have it any less, for fair work should receive fair rewards. What spell is that you have cast?

[avaricious]

Magic? [He gives his hand a passing glance before chuckling.] Spare me the bottom shelf fantasy nonsense. I don't do magic. It's just simple transmutation, that's all.

[Give it time. He's not used to people with worlds where alchemy isn't just a normal and acknowledged concept.]

[notkittenaround]

Bottom of the shelf-

[ She draws in a breath best referred to as a cat's hiss... But only from a distance, and at best muttered under your breath. Marhi's tail bristles a little, and her knife cuts deep into the meat. ]

It is not fantasy nonsense.

[avaricious]

[Ooh. Looks like he struck a nerve!]

I'm not saying it's impossible. Few things are. But real or not, it belongs in kid's stories.

[notkittenaround]

That would be spoken as someone who has never seen its power in war; It has beaten back more than one invasion, and saved more lives than I could count.

[ She has seen much of battle with it, and her passion is unguarded about it. ]

[avaricious]

If it's anything like alchemy, I'm sure it's killed it's fair share as well.

[He shrugs and starts chopping the meat. Without having to worry about his fingers, he's able to do it as fast as he likes.]

[notkittenaround]

[ She raises a hand to brush back her hair, settling the slight puff, then resumes her cutting with careful determination. Even if he's acting the fool, she has no time to waste on pointless duels. ]

Of course. Such is the way of war, when anything might become a weapon.

[avaricious]

Some things never change. [He almost seems pleased by that. He's already decided she must be some kind of alien of some kind, which means the notion that other worlds are just bungled up as his own is refreshing.] By the way, the name is Greed.

[notkittenaround]

[ She doesn't find the name strange at all. One of her own might be considered stranger by another, and she's familiar with the oddities of the unknown. ]

Marhi Ohsi, or Metallic Gold Magpie. I answer to either.

[avaricious]

[Deadpan:] ... Metallic Gold Magpie, huh? I hope you didn't choose that for yourself.

[notkittenaround]

[ She slams the blade through the meat, with a dull thunk when it slices into the counter beneath. ]

It was given to me by those I consider family.

[avaricious]

[He has a good chuckle as he cuts up the next chunk of meat.]

I hope you plan on making them pay for that someday. Assuming you haven't already.