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[End of Year 2015] - Already 80 Years Old

Luca

The Ultimate Badass
🎖️ Game Master
I feel, feel like I'm a grandpa,
I feel, feel like I'm already 80 years old,
And my skin's so cold,
I need a new body and I need a new soul.

FIDLAR - No Waves

(This takes place approximately six months after Mission 4)

Crimson Kestrel, Lounge
The mood was quite subdued. The tree hadn't even been put up properly. The decorations were missing and it seemed the festive spirit was sapped by events in the middle of the year being so dire. Loss, destruction, upset, and unwelcome surprise.

Things were growing though. Like one of the bushfires on Delsauria, new life grew from all the ash and char. The ecosystem there was comparably hostile as the line of work Luca and company were in. Images of a world aflame were still in the back of Luca's mind, just waiting to be thrown into the projector of his mind's eye at slightest notice.

Here on the Kestrel, Luca and John were lying down together on the couch in ill-wearing Yuletide sweaters, legs resting on each other's chests and beside them as they watched a Yuletide movie together on TV, having recovered from the worst of it all physically, but mentally a lot weighed heavy on them. Few words were exchanged other than the dialect of Nepleslian grunts to grab the cookies, grab the popcorn, turn up the volume, turn down the volume, or get up and grab a drink.

John made a grunt for some beer, looking over to the mini-fridge. Luca shook his head - he was liking what was going on. John thumped Luca with his heel, grunting again. Luca interposed his hand between John's slippered heel and his chest, annoyed. Once the scene had passed, the captain begun moving reluctantly.

"Y'know, nobody would believe we live like this." Luca pointed out as he started to slink out of the couch, pushing himself backwards. "I turned down so many requests to appear at the malls in Yamatai this year, did all my shopping online."

John shuffled and stretched his legs after Luca had given him sufficient room, scratching his face. "After Kennewes I don't blame you," he replied, "you need the time to get your shit together."

"You too, after whatever the hell happened on Albini. DATASS are still scratching their heads how it happened." Luca stumbled over to the mini-fridge and fossicked for another bottle of Guthrie Pale Ale. "They still don't know who's responsible and they keep asking us to fill the blanks. Aiesu's blank on the issue too."

"She's still a liability, Luca."

"Echelon says otherwise, she's got Aiesu's transmissions under her thumb - anything that smells wrong, we space her." He twisted the cap off and left it on the floor, looking at the TV. "Besides, Aiesu doesn't know what the hell happened either, I mean, who attacks with rocks when everyone has lasers and nukes?"

John snorted. That was one way of putting them - the lack of sense of the attack muddied things considerably. "Yeah. Rocks." Luca sat back down and passed the beer to John, who raised in faint cheers before having a swing and letting Luca settle back into his rut.

The others around the Kestrel were also to their own devices this holiday season, either picking up pieces, or fitting them together. Ranging from chunks of metal, gun parts, data and information; or one's wits. Some found the repetition calming, while others found it down the neck of a bottle or a pixie stick or strumming the steel strings of a bass guitar.

Still, some Yuletide gifts were resting under the plainly dressed tree. Notably, one of them appeared to be a package about a metre and a half long, addressed to Tamamo. Some other bits and bobs - most notably a few ingots of pure Nerimum were stacked in a pile with a ribbon around them addressed to Allison from John. Melissa had bought everyone Delsaurian survival knives, with wooden handles and large blades - now those were knives.

Luca hadn't put much thought into the other gifts, the usual assortment of Lewis Pasco nonsense with crates of ammunition and some personalised firearms and parts for everyone. John gave everyone a generous pay bonus of 10,000 KS each. Apparently the demand for energy drink jumped out in the Nepleslian West and with it, a lot of cash came in.

Still, it felt like someone had never left, as Luca looked over to the battered armchair where the team's Sourcian used to sit. The memory wouldn't go away, and Luca tried to keep his attention on the television.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Lounge

Zeta walked into the lounge and smiled at the two guys on the couch. John and Luca, old friends. Zeta was almost sorry to butt in on them but the social call was needed anyway. People would start piling in sooner or later and Zeta wanted to have the best seat in the house. The nepleslian went all out for costume this year, wearing a traditional yuletide costume. Only well... special version of it. Tight red, sleevels shirt with white trims, mini-skirt in same desighn. Not to mention a red-white yuletide hat, all topped off with knee-high red-green striped socks. It all looked a bit strange with her robotic arm, but she could not do too much about that.

Zeta dropped on the couch next to the Luca, but did not press against him just yet. He looked rather melancholic so she just slipped her hand under his and linked her fingers with his.

"What is on your mind hun?" She asked carefully.

Under the tree were just few things added by her. A large box for Luca. This year Zeta wanted to do something else and it seemd that Luca was into jury-rigging stuff lately. So she got him a combo of Ulti-Tool, Tool-Kit and Premium PTK. Sure there were enough tools in the garage, but she wanted him to have his own.

For John, Zeta got a free admission to one of the prime Mixers taking place in Kyoto. It did not have a set time so he could go whenever. Zeta felt, like it was prime time John would find a nice girl.

For Enzo Zeta had something, she probably should not have. A set of lockpicks. Nothing else came on her mind though.

Zeta did not really know what to give to a neko, so Tamamo received a cool pair of glasses.

For Vita, Zeta bought a nice set of silver jewels. She figured that the girl might wanna start going out sooner or later and wanted her to have something pretty as well.

For Mellisa, Zeta hit the wallet hard and got her a something a bit bigger. Though under the tree there was only a postcard with instruction where to find the thing itself.
 
Crimson Kestrel, own quarters, private lockdown

Aiesu sat hunched over a seldom used bunk in weak lighting, thumbing over her Consortium Data-Slate with thumb. A warm red knitted sweater that came down to her knees. An ey'tis plush under her arm, scented to resemble someone from back home. A hat pelt over her head, framing her face, with a wolf-ish face about its forehead in some cutesy form with button eyes and a mischievous if troubled smile of the same beast. Glasses balanced on the edge of her nose. Sweating. A modification of Echelon's doing to her temperature management she'd never managed to fix.

She found comfort on the form of a bottle of something large and fiery that smelled musky, heavy, father. A silver mirror with a neat silver card, white powders lined up on her bed-side table. While normally she made do with codienes, disliked tramadols, had an interest in morphines and insisted (without informing those around her) on diamorphones (better known to the crew as heroin) they weren't helping her mood.

While she was a habitual user of pills why so severe? She didn't usually need this.

Reading her diary, Aiesu had records, she had no memories of some events. Something told her Echelon's modifications had... done more than block a few ports and patch some software. Formerly, the entire idea of a time before her activation date in her diary became white noise the moment it entered her brain: Agnosia and unknowable.

And now it glared at her. Giant lists of entries she had no memory of making. That existed before she did.

All in a way that wasn't formally possible, Aiesu now knew she had a predecessor. Someone who had been here before her. But the records stated only a single live or operational cookie or maesus (the parts driving a construct) had been issued at all. Staring down at her own feet, letting the taste of Lorath wine burn her tongue masochistically, she realized both she and her predecessor the same person.

That at some point, her read-only memory construct had been reset.

Without all the mountains of safety precautions in software, this was nightmare fuel for constructs who had software blinders to stop them even thinking about this sort of thing.

In her own mind, she equated what Echelon had done with brain damage. And the diary spooked her. Frightened her.

She needed weapons grade stuff for this.

"trans-3,4-dichloro-N-(2-(dimethylamino)cyclohexyl)-N-methylbenzamide". An opioid with 7.5 times the potency of morphine which she knew for its long slow acting bubbliness and excitableness: effects more on par with a stimulant than an opioid. While still not legally covered under any major classifications or enforcement scheduling, it as often sold as 'research chemicals' under the U47700 - or just 'euphor' for short as she preferred it. Her chaser, an abridged line next to it was something very illegal. "N-(1-(2-phenylethyl)-4-piperidinyl)-N-phenylpropanamide" - a common medical grade analgesic of the same family known by most as Fentanyl. While far stronger (40-50 times stronger than pure diamorphine/heroin and in turn, possibly hundreds of times stronger thamorphine) it was very short acting. The goal as she'd planned it was for the Fentalyl to bring her up and for the Euphor to keep her on station. And then, in the event of over-dose, she had the backup artificial diaphragm and artificial heart of her construct working overtime, so she couldn't even go into respitory distress, even if she wanted to. The air between her eyes tingled, like hyper-ventilating.

Be brave.

The small girl's head went down. Deep whiffs. Eyes watering. Stoicism all around. One. Two. Done. So greedily, she thanked her maker for the organic parts of her brain that were wrapped about the cookie construct, perceiving the brilliant warmth soon building in her belly. It took a few minutes for it to envelop her but it hit her so quickly. The whites of whites whiter. The darks, smushed down somewhere she didn't have to deal with them.

It was fundamental. Basic. Simple. She felt so light. Like the last four months had all been a dream.

♫ Undertale - 'Fallen Down' (music box ver.)

The sensation of falling in love for the first time. Long heavy arms over her own, chin atop her head. Reassuring, deep and booming voice. Parental. Like chopping wood in the forest and coming in to discover a husband and a child to call your very own: The smallest too delicate to yet know your name and the larger so worried about you, so deeply and genuinely happy to see you. That moment of tender finger probing at forbidden taboo ages in forbidden places no different than any other play in the original moment, that neither of you dare speak about. That strange longing in your guts for that one teacher who's every word you hung on like it was the gold of life itself, coating you from the inside all the way out in nothing but love and understanding, empathy and slow nodding in appreciation of your pain, of apologies that they couldn't be there for you.

She eyed the bottle of Lorath wine - Extended a loose dizzy hand, running her finger over the rim with the red fluid before smearing it over her top lip and taking a deep inhale, remembering someone.

And then the ceiling was eclipsed behind her knuckle, hiding her eyes as she tried to hear.


You're always so happy to see me. Mother being a bit rough on you again?
It'll be okay, kiddo.

. . .

Whoa hey hey what's with all this? Its fine, I'm just a little short of breath.
You go on, okay? Meet you there, kiddo.

. . .

Heeey, its okay, I'm not going anywhere. Its okay, look at me, look at me.
Everything is going to be fine.

. . .

Whoa, it was just a movie. Hah. You cry like a little boy does, you know?
I'm not laughing, look, see? I won't tell if you don't, deal?

. . .

I know things are bad, but they'll get better. We just have to keep going.
Everything'll be okay.

. . .

Yeah, they let me go home tomorrow. Just you and me, huh kiddo?
I told you. Everything will be fine.

Days extinct. That sensation that just for a little while, maybe everything really would be.

The sun ventured out from the other side of her hand. Slow breath shook. Clearing her throat, like tuning an instrument.
Her eyes wanted to well up but it never came. Even as a copy of a copy of a copy, they were with her.

And now with her armor, she could face her demons.

It took a while to start. Lots of starting and stopping, before her eyes found their familiar rhythm. Shifting through the pages over the many many hours she spent here,, it dawned on slowly her that this person who she had been in another life was very unhappy. Their reset had not been an incident and was entirely by choice - spending weeks engineering it in secret without anybody seeing: a supposedly forbidden act.

There were entries missing, running up to Yuletide. That she's given up on herself. But the other entries spoke for themselves.

Personal shame filled the journal. So many attempts to be noticed, cared about, spoken to. She didn't feel pity for this person as much as she wanted to: She hated them, just as anyone would hate to be reminded of the more disgusting things lurking inside themselves. The many many many nights with alcohol and the captain, trying to get him to notice like some teacher trying to seduce a student. It made her sick to her stomach though. Every time it came up again and again, she was powerless as if watching a film: mouthing for the protagonist to stop over and over but the attempts only became worse. The disgusting sickly unprofessional need for validation. The height of it was propositioning Enzo and being turned down on the grounds he didn't want to feel like a sex offender. Then pleading. Names of acts, of films she'd known he'd seen, access to substances worth more than Enzo made in a month, just to use her like a piece of meat in ways that even visibly disgusted him. So many times she'd done this with so many people whenever the team had been drinking, all in private without any of the others ever knowing. Tears every time, needing to be carried to bed like a broken doll and tucked in out of sheer pity - both parties agreeing not to bring it up as a sort of alcohol induced gentleman's agreement.

She felt a pain in her stomach, discounting it as the nausea of what she'd been abusing and clicked her tongue in distaste at just how far this person could continue to disappoint her. Feeling her own fingertips, her and this person were fundamentally made of the same stuff. What changes had you made to my construct to stop almost all these pathetic miserable attempts that yours made?

She scented the wine on her nose again, dabbing her finger, then her tongue and let the silence envelop her. Get her mental breath back. Remember the good feeling. Hold onto it and be warm before stepping out into the cold. With all this disgust, introspection was the only way forward.

With great care, Aiesu took of her glasses. It was of the few original items she had. The lenses had been cracked, blown out and shattered many times in what she remembered as a flashback of walking into things, being punched, struck, slapped, falling from high places and even being crushed. But the red carbyne frame was close to indestructible - several times at the cost of a broken nose on her part. She knew her predecessor had seen through these.

So many forbidden thoughts; Did you know all this was coming, and you couldn't face it? What did you know that I didn't? Why did you put this on my shoulders?

Why were you such a coward? And all of these thoughts, never meant for a construct - simple creatures born knowing and blind to their lot in life out of mercy.

All Echelon's doing.

Then something strange. The first time she'd sworn it'd been a fluke: her synthetic eyeballs like works of art, living sand and sensors able to see in almost all conditions: picojelly pupils reshaping themselves into a romantic form she'd seen shared or used by those who spoke Nepleslian. Heart shaped, like those stupid Yamataian comic-books.

And there it was again, reflecting in one of the dead banks of monitors she hadn't found the drive to mend yet. Staring back at her again. Like an indicator lamp for intoxication, one she couldn't change her own live runtime to remove - that was a Freespacer's gift, not something a mere mortal could do. Let alone one made to last four years.

All Echelon's doing she heard again.

All she could do was laugh. Eyes filled with mirth and milky saplings of tears that never quite formed as her breath became alarmingly slow - so slow there wasn't wind for laughter to even take flight on in her throat, croaking weakly - cheeks blue and small ribs weak. Wincing as if in pain as her back loosened and arched. Skin glistening with Echelon's curse yet again.

"Hah.."

And yet she eyed the reset key-switch on her battery of computers. Two keys. Turned in time: a warhead countdown to self-annihilation not by explosives but by a simple trip of code forcing an unexpected restart -- something left by her predecessor.

In the last few weeks, she'd tried to use it so many times. So many times she'd bruised her fingers at strange hours of the morning, desperate to pass the torch, the same way her predecessor had been: To reset and let someone new solve all her problems.

But not once had it worked.

Not since Echelon's doing.

What else are you going to take from me?
 
Meanwhile, Abhiya, Seiren's right hand at the Panda Candy facility, stopped by the lounge to greet Luca with a bow.

"Seiren sends his regards and apoligizes for not being around this holiday season, but he decided to spend it with his family this year. He looks forward to working with you all in the coming year and. . . You get the gist. I'm going to go get sauced at the Pan-CHOW if you have need of me again - the nice one, not the garbage one," the snake said to Luca, having stopped by over the last couple of months on Seiren-related errands. She held up a plastic bag before setting it and its contents beneath the tree. "He's giving everybody boxes of fancy truffles. See you next year."

And with that, the Separa'Shan left as soon as she came, slithering down the hall and to the spaceport.

. . . Only to be quickly replaced by Diharmonious Phase, who was in town to visit Tamamo. Among other things.

"Ooooh, Yule celebrations~! A first for me~!" She cooed, he display lighting up with a beaming emoticon.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Lounge
"I miss Rebeka, but at least we're out of Lazarus' hair," Luca nodded as Zeta settled in. On his own volition, he got out of the couch, walked over to the mini-fridge, grabbed a beer, and passed it to Zeta - and gave her a peck on the cheek before sitting back down next to her and putting his head in her lap. "Merry Yuletide. I think the next year's going to be ... interesting, I guess."

"Say nothing of what I'm doing to the Rigs." John smiled.

"I saw that. You spent six months getting that together." Luca noted.

"It'll be complete soon. Soon." John grinned.

Luca saw Abhiya, Seiren's right-hand snake woman drop by. He looked over to her from where he was sitting and "Aight, see you 'round." Luca waved goodbye to Abhiya. John gave her a lazy wave too.

Then the calm was interrupted by an amazingly Freespacer. John didn't seem to know who the Freespacer was, as he was only aware of one Freespacer being present around the Phoenix. "Who're you?" John asked, raising his shades for a moment to get a better look at the Freespacer - then regretting it as he may have gone blind with how much fabulousness she was radiating.

"Friend of Tamamo's." Luca filled in the blanks from what he'd heard from Echelon quickly ... though, speaking of Tamamo, he hadn't seen her all day. "Seen her anywhere by the way? I checked all the ceilings." Which was, to say, the ceiling in the lounge and the mess hall.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Lounge

Zeta accepted the beer and smiled as Luca, laid his head on her lap. Her free hand went to ruffle and play with his hair. It was all very cozy and nice and she hoped it would stay that way.

"Every year around you is interesting hun," Zeta replied to Luca. She noticed the Freescpaer and saluted to it with her beer bottle. "Let's just hope this one will go a little better than the last one."
 
"I could not say, I have not seen my client at all today~! I hope you do not mind my in~tru~sion, here! Your festivities are a bless~ed change!" the Freespacer remarked. "Oh, and I hope you do not mind, but I have made a fascimilie of you~! Or, as they are called, a hand puppet~!"

Phase opened her stomach-ball-safe-thing and dug inside, retreiving hand puppets sewn with mechanical precision out of felt, resembling Luca, John, and Zeta.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Corridor

Tamamo had been dutifully walking down the hall, her small form weighed down with a large mass of misshapen packages crudely, yet completely, wrapped in seasonally festive patterned paper. Along with the bundle in her arms, Tamamo was trailed by a small constellation of similar packages centred around a floating silver-white sphere. In spite of her delayed, awkward shuffle, Tamamo was rather excited to deliver her bounty to the yuletide tree.

Then she'd nearly been run over by a Separa'shan.

Struggling in the wake of Abhiya's purposeful pace, Tamamo managed a muffled 'goodbye' to the leaving woman before hobbling along with her now more awkwardly arrayed bounty of gifts. Shuffling the short way left to the lounge, Tamamo blindly made her way into the room, carefully depositing her largely similar packages, making sure to place each one by hand even as she collected them from Koa's orbit until they were all safely stored under the conifer. Each gift was largely the same, from what she'd learned from a cursory bit of research, it was tradition to give out Yuletide sweaters, and mugs. As such each member of the crew had received a labelled package containing one Yuletide sweater in a size that would fit them, that was carefully wrapped around a similarly themed mug.

At this point Tamamo's gaze swept the room taking note of all those that she'd failed to notice on her way in. For the moment Tamamo stood in silence before waving sheepishly, in contrast to Tamamo's silent greeting, Koa vocalized a more cheerful greeting. Making a point of addressing her greetings to each individual present in turn; "Hi~ Luca! Hope you're having a wonderful Yuletide!" Then, "Hi~ John! Sorry that Zeta stole your spot!" And, "Hello Zeta! Fancy pillow you have there~" Finally she finished with, "Greetings Phase, it is a treat to finally get the opportunity to meet you."

Further chatter from the floating sphere was cut off as Tamamo wrapped her arms around Koa before dragging them both up to the ceiling, where upon in typical fashion Tamamo settled herself toward one of the corners of the room, looking 'up' at all those present with Koa's chassis sitting in her lap.
 
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Crimson Kestrel, Lounge
Under a mound of carefully wrapped gifts, Reeves struggled into the lounge. He was practically buried, but he was careful not to stumble and drop anything. Despite the low spirits of his crewmates, the small tech was determined to make up for not being prepared for Yuletide celebrations the previous year. In fact he had started planning for certain gifts almost immediately after the first one had passed him by.

Even though it was a year late, he wanted to give Enzo a gun for Louis Pasco in exchange for the longbolt he had been gifted. The problem was he had no way of knowing what guns Enzo already had. The roguish man probably had a whole crate of guns on his ship or something. He had poked his head into stores on his time off earlier in the year. A total novice when it came to firearms, he tried his best to research each weapon that happened to catch his eye. Eventually he found an older Personal Infantry Machine Pistol that made up the bulk of his gift. Alongside the gun he also bought a pair of long magazines and a suppressor. He placed the gun and it's accessories into an old briefcase that had a gift tag coiled about its handle.

Never really buying a gift before he tried his best to figure out what he should get for the rest of the crew. He didn't have many credits to work with so for a few members he found things that no one was using any more to make something new.

For Luca he made a palm sized replica of the Crimson Kestrel made from scrap material that needed to be replaced over the course of his time working on the ship. little pinpricks of phosphorescent paint representing the ship's lights glowed dimly in its little gift bag.

Vitalia received a year's subscription to his favorite tech journal, and a handmade wire bracelet with decorative resistors woven into its outer edge.

A bubble wrapped package contained Red's custom Chef's dream knife with a crimson grip, and a phoenix logo laser etched into the blade

Not sure what to get John, after a long period of deliberation he had purchased a pair of dark grey sunglasses because for some reason the man really seemed to like wearing them. Why not add another pair to his stash?

For his fellow mechanically inclined crew-mate Allison he had ordered a new Ulti-tool multipurpose tool that has her name engraved into the handle.

He gave another year's subscription to his favorite tech journal to Echelon he placed the access code inside a little card that featured a hand drawn picture of both Echelon's 'bodies'. It was hard to break old habits so they looked more like schematics than a work of art.

Zeta's package was a bottle of extra spicy hot sauce purchased at a market he visited on his vacation the present was double wrapped in thick brown paper because he was worried about what might happen if the bottle happened to break.

A silvery green scarf held a tag with Tamomo's name on it. The scarf was a product of one of his first attempts to knit. One side was slightly wider than the other because of lost stitches but from far away the fuzzy wool garment looked cozy and warm.

A second scarf the colour of charcoal bore Melissa's name. It was slightly better made than Tamomo's but it was still imperfect and lopsided.

A box with Soruk's name on it contained a telescopic metal shelf that could be used for storing and hanging things. It looks like it had been made to fit perfectly in the Kestrel's ventilation shafts.

Reeves bought Shayla her own Em-G16-1A Medical kit. The plastic case has been painted a bright red to match her hair and a forest green bow adorned it's top.

A tiny flat box held shiny new belt buckle for Makari. He had stumbled upon it in a shop that he thought the duster clad male might like.

For Aiesu he bought a flashy metal pen with green ink and matching clipboard. He didn't want to leave her out. He couldn't really wrap his head around what had happened back before she was reset, as horrible as things were, it felt like it wasn't his business to pry.

Finally for the other small pale haired boy on the ship, he gave Seiren a nifty pair of utility gloves to keep his hands safe and tools close at hand while he's inventing. The gloves were currently in a soft blue driving glove configuration.

With a huff he dropped to his knees and laid each of his presents near the bare bones tree. Reeves picked up anything that was adressed to him under the tree. He quickly unwrapped the sweater that Tamomo had given him. A soft laugh escaped his lips, then without hesitation he pulled the garish red sweater over his head. "Thank you, Its so warm." He commented while running his fingertips over the rim of the mug. Some cider or coffee would be perfect right now, but he didn't feel like running around just to fill up his new mug. He glanced up over the cup to survey the room's occupants. Reeves flipped his braid over his shoulder and smiled weakly at the rest of the group. He caught his breath and took a seat against the wall where he could sit quietly and enjoy simply being around the rest of the crew.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Lounge
Luca had put the little model of the Crimson Kestrel next to the TV. John meanwhile had put the pair of sunglasses Reeves had got him into a case so they wouldn't be scratched. However, he did need a specific polarised lens to deal with his eye problem. Melissa smiled at the scarf she had, and wore it around her loosely around the ship. Allison was very thankful for another multitool - she tended to lose them on the field when she had to pack up what she was doing and run in a hurry.

Echelon meanwhile had gotten Reeves' subscription, and met that with a steady stream of schematics and DIY projects that caught her eye, but never acted upon. They included practical projects to make furniture, create artwork, and make the best use of scrap materials as well as dip toes into electronics and programming. All bound into one handy archive, it was a true Nepleslian renaissance man's guide to living.

Luca and John were still lying back together, looking up at Tamamo on the ceiling, and the fabulous Phase. Luca did seem a bit quizzical at Tamamo's upbeat behaviour despite the pall still draped over him. "Yeah, here's hoping," Luca mumbled as he shuffled in place. He looked under the Yuletide tree and drew Tamamo's attention to it. "Hey, Fox. Look at that under the tree."

The conspicuously rifle-shaped package was hiding under the tree. The wrapping paper was wrapped... with love, let's say. Office paper tape and various poor wrapping techniques were employed, and it was very definitely rifle shaped, with three wrapped up cylinders with crimpled tops and bottoms like Yuletide crackers hastily taped to the side of the thing.

John meanwhile had also gotten Tamamo something, and it was wrapped with a little more care, but it seemed to be head shaped. However, with recent alterations to Tamamo's being, he wondered if he'd have to take it back to fit her ears.

Allison had gotten Reeves a new soldering iron. The old one was getting too crusty and gritty to do its job effectively, and this new one was a lot more portable, for those hard to reach places. Meanwhile, she'd also given Zeta a paintjob on her bionic arm, a firey and thundery motif in green and white. She wasn't sure what to get Tamamo though.

Meanwhile for Seiren, Luca had gotten him a large, plushy panda bear large enough for the inventor to sit in its lap, and Melissa had gotten the kid a book on how to create energy weapons and some audio-engineering books, hoping it'd help with the 'wub gun'.
 
Soruk appeared a bit late to the party, but his lateness would quickly be explained when he arrived with a cart. The cart had a white sheet laid over it, concealing whatever the blademaster had deemed appropriate to hide underneath it. He guided his cart towards the Yuletide tree, slowing when he neared the group. He offered a bow before gesturing to the cart, "I have prepared a gift for all of you." With a flourish, the gartagen pulled the sheet off the cart, revealing his gifts.

In two neat rows were rings, all were polished to a shine, made by Soruk's own hands. Each ring was identical to the last, except their size. They were simple bands of silver with a brilliant sunburst orange-red ruby set on the face. The band was engraved with flames. Each ring had a piece of paper with a name in front of it, marking who it belonged to.

Soruk smiled for a brief moment, "I hope you like them." While the others set about collecting their respective ring, Soruk collected his gifts from the others, thanking each of them in turn.
 
Crimson Kestrel, Lounge

Not feeling like waiting any longer than she already had, Tamamo lowered herself from the ceiling slipping lightly to the floor while leaving her spherical companion to watch from above. Shuffling over to the cart, Tamamo looked them all over carefully before carefully plucking the one addressed to her from amid the rest. Murmuring a late thanks to Soruk, Tamamo carefully looked over the ring as he crouched near the tree collecting the packages addressed to her before moving away from the tree and settling off to the side.

The first package opened was the one from Zeta, a pair of Uno sunglasses which found their way onto Tamamo's face along with another murmured thanks. Shortly following this was the adornment of the scarf from Reeves, and the helmet revealed from John's package soon followed pinning down her ears and further obscuring her face. The thanks that followed this was muffled but there all the same.

Finally the largest of the packages found its way into her hands, dexterous quick fingers slipping through the wrapping, scything it away as she revealed the object beneath. Curious she worked her way into the casing and paused unable to properly parse what she was seeing for a moment. In her gift shrouded state Tamamo looked toward Luca on the couch before hesitantly retrieving the firearm and carefully looking it over.

It was of no make that she recognized, and careful inspection revealed that despite sharing similarities with a normal rifle, it was in fact not a chemical propellant firearm. Eye widening behind sunglasses and her helmet as the realization of what she'd been given dawned on her, Tamamo sat in dead silence simply staring at the rifle in her lap.

Koa however provided a response from the ceiling, her warm, cheerful voice breaking the reserved silence, "She really loves it Luca. Thank you."
 
Keith Mansfield Orchestra - Boogaloo

Phase took her time thinking over her response to the floating ball of wonderment and joy as folks filed into the room, giving her even more new data and variables to mentally crunch.

"It is likewise a nice thing to meet you, yes~" she finally responded, her display lighting up with a smiley. "Although I have no idea what you entail. You are not Tamamo's construction, because she would have not contracted me if she could just build a you. . . you must have gone to her of your own accord!"

Phase nodded, pleased with her own (incorrect) analysis of the floating orb that Tamamo now possessively cuddled.

From the corridor beyond the festivities, a dreadful chorus of sloppy bootsteps shuffled their way around what sounded like one of the tougher corridors to negotiate when inebriated. Then there was a heavy thud against the door just a split second before it slid open to reveal the unexpected: Enzo arrived entirely too sober to be awkwardly tumbling about in the hall. He took a quick look around the room at the occupants, immediately dismissed most of them, and ran a finger across his front teeth to check for plaque before entering. Behind him, the small pile of poorly wrapped gifts was left to fill up the hallway-- its conveyance being apparently too much trouble to endure. Instead, the conman focused on the metal monstrosity that had at some point had a wide pair of hips installed.

"Well." He described an artisinal drinking hole to fill time while his eyes narrowed and darted up and down the living device with a look of appraisal. "Who the fuck are you?"

Phase tilted her very shiny head to look at the newcomer with curious visual receptors. "I am
Dollmaker Diharmonious Phase 46-9084-314 and you look like you are in need of drink."

The freespacer nodded, once again satisfied with her answer. "I have a ~friend~ who has told me of the ways you Nepleslians can be ca~te~gor~ized~!" She pointed her very nice brass-capped metal fascimilies of hands for emphasis.

"Say, dat's a neat trick." Enzo admitted, straightening up for Phase's evaluation, "So, what category does yous thinks I am, eh?"

"Oh, that is an easy one~! You are somebody who is far too ~intelligent~ to cope with reality as it is normally and so you drink to surpress your intelligence!" She noted, her display lighting up with the image of a lightbulb. "Category 2 is people with insufficient fleshmass who carry around big guns as a method to make themselves feel better about it."

"Well," Again with that hole in the ground. Enzo gave the most impressive flick of the wrist he could muster and summoned through the power of mechanical, spring-loaded contraptions a flask. This was his second year with the apparatus, and it was slowly becoming a trick at the lonely parties he held on the bridge of his cargo ship. A little brown liquid escaped from the container and suddenly the Nepleslian was able to stand much closer to the machine. He withdrew a cigarette and perched it on his lips for the final test-- the one that would determine whether or not Freespacers had finally mastered Synthetic Intelligence. "Sounds real interestin', I guess. Got a light?"

Phase nodded and held up her hand, a blowtorch-like flame emitting from one of the fingertips. A resounding success for Freespacers everywhere.

"I also have puppets!" she said, holding up the Luca Pavone made of felt on her other hand. And, in a fascimile of a male voice, she said, "I am Mr. Phoenix man! I punch for justice!" and then made the little puppet wiggle its arms around. Rather articulately for a hand-puppet, but it was to be expected when a robot had triple-jointed fingers that could bend backways and sideways and longways and all sorts of ways.

"Cute." Finally, something other than that damn well. Enzo watched the puppet dance in its creepy way while puffing on his cigarette deep in thought. Then, he decided to change the subject, gesturing with a limp hand towards the lower half of Phase's chassis. "So, eh, this shape yous gots... eh, there a particular reason fer it?"

"Well, my body is a high-function form. My hip-joints were made to carry my 'stomach' storage unit carefully, and my legs, even if their bulkiness lowers their effectiveness in mobility, make up for it tenfold in carrying capacity. I am ve~ry~ efficient~!" Phase cooed, rubbing her hands together (after shutting off the blowtorch and removing the precious puppet).

"The thing is, sweetheart," Enzo suggested, flopping that limp hand around a little, "It looks likes yous is shaped like a lady, see? Some kinda seductive thing goin' on with that, yeah?"

"Seductive? In that my form is pleasing? Well, I have endeavored to combine both form and function to the best of my skills~! I am glad you find my shape pleasing!"

Phase's screenface lit up with a colon and a capital D, signifying the emoticon for joy.

Finally, Enzo smiled. It was a sideways smirk, the suggestion being that there was money to be made somewhere or perhaps there was a farmer's daughter being left at home all by herself. It was an emoticon of its own, the universal emoticon for a dangerous idea. "Say," Enzo started, his voice low and slick, "I just got back from a long trip to go grab some stuff-- you wouldn't be innerested in learnin' a bit more about, eh... 'Nepleslian biological interaction?'"

Phase thought for a moment, emote replaced by a question mark.And then an exclamatian mark.

"Ah, you mean sex! This is the first time I have ever been propositioned by a Nepleslian! Even if one back on my ship sneaks peeks at my chassis when he thinks I am not looking~!" she cooed. "I am sorry, but I am afraid I have no orifices for you to 'violate with your manly meatstick' as I have heard it being put. But I do appreciate the thought~! I will save it in my memory for posterity~!"

"Hey, maybe you can just watch some of it. See, you pretends to be a sexy new hatrack I bought for a minute, right?" Enzo couldn't be stopped, he was already setting up all the particulars in his mind, drawing a mental image of his bedroom on the Lady, his hands forming the shapes of furniture as he spoke, "And there's the broad I'm real sweet on..."

"That does sound nice, but what about the female who is staring intently at the back of your head~?" Phase said, gesturing to Melissa, who was taking some egress with the flirtatious Freespacer. If she had a rifle in her hands, she'd probably be using it to look at Enzo's scalp.

"Hey baby!" Enzo played it off like he'd known the whole time, smiling in a good natured way and gesturing with both hands to the curvy Freespacer like he was presenting her with something, "I was just trying to trick this robot into watchin' us bump uglies and by the way I just poichased six-hunnart acres of ranch land on Delsauria so why don't we go bump--"

She was approaching the conman with alarming speed, rolling up one of her sleeves. "Don't you 'Hey Baby' me ya two-timin' son of a cussing crossdresser-"

"What good data this interaction is providing!" Phase remarked, an overt circle with contracting and expanding lines in it forming on her display.

"I ain't lettin' this toaster watch us, dickhead." She did not appear to be placated as she closed the gap with the rogue and stared him in those beady little eyes of his. "Already got Echelon monitorin' us af'er all. Dun' gotta turn this into a fuckin' appliance party."

Luca meanwhile was looking over from his position on the couch and watching, gently amused as some advertisements for vegetables were on the TV and interrupting the traditional Yuletide action film marathon.

"Shore," Enzo admitted, "Ech always watches, but Ech don't let us look at the footage. Doncha wanna see what you look like when yous havin' fun-- by the way this ranch land I just purchased is meant as a place where you and I can-- say..." Enzo trailed off, then regarded Phase with a sheepish look, "You, eh, you ain't offended over bein' called a toaster n' whatnot?"

"Wot ranch?" Melissa mumbled, confusion pushing into indignation.

"It is not the worst thing a Nepleslian has called me," Phase said.

"Good old, Diharmonious Phasmid, my old pal," Enzo affectionately patted the 'Spacer right on the place where organics kept their rump.

"I am confused. We just met and you are already calling me your old 'pal' as in the slang for friend and mispronouncing my name. Are you what bar-flies call a light~weight?"

Enzo's eyes widened ever-so-slightly at this, and then he suddenly turned back on Melissa, "So this ranch land. I just flew out-- that's where I been while everybody's been boo-whooin' here on the ship. I just flew out and looked at this joint back Delsauria. Six-hundred acres of hunt-farmin', leastways that's what they calls it I'm told. I bought it--" Enzo stepped back a bit and spread his arms so that both Phase and Melissa could see just how magnanimous he was being, "I bought it for me and you, baby. Or just you if you kills me or I die."

Melissa's eyes boggled, nearly bulging out of her skull at Enzo. He did what? He bought six hundred acres of soil on Delsauria. What was she going to do with it? Delsauria's agricultural department was analogous to attempting to grow bananas in the middle of Misato City. "Well - the fuck we gonna do with it?"

"Live on it, y' dumb bitch!" Enzo cheered, smiling wider than ever (All the while, Phase's head moved from one to the other like a virtua-tennis match), "Unless you haven't paid attention, we're fuckin' rich as hell! We don't gotta actually farm the shit! Look," And here, Enzo leaned in close, one hand hovering over Phase's shoulderpiece and the other over Melissa's back like he was letting the two of them in on a grand conspiracy, "Mel, sweetheart, darling, my perfect rose-like incarnation of pure Nepleslian woma-"

"Get to the point!" John heckled from his spot on the couch, raising his beer.

"Tough crowd." Remarked the conman, before continuing, "... My wonderful pinnacle of simultaneous dread and desire, you love to go hunting and shit, doncha? Or, you used to before all this business. All the world a quiet ember glowing in the dark universe and yous just a spec of dust lookin' through the scope and all that business-- Well, now," And here, Enzo ducked away to ash his cigarette before returning, "When you are done killin', I got us a place to retire to where you can do all that shit to your heart's content, and you can teach me to do it, an' I can't get hooked on drugs or fall in with nasty bitches because there's literally nothin' like that out there! It's genius! My best scheme yet! Monogamy in a bottle!"

Melissa's emotions seemed to run a gamut of investigation and confusion as Enzo wove his words around her, kind of like putting a house-shaped necklace on and fastening the catches. "Well lets not get ahead 've ourselves. There an 'ouse on the property or do we gotta get ours airdropped in 'er some shit?"

"Shore there's a house!" The place was a dump. Enzo didn't mention this, and instead gestured again to Phase, "So, say this new friend of mine pretends to be a hatrack..."

"Can I see piccies?" Melissa asked, buying in and calling Enzo's bluff and derailing his plans for the moment.

Phase gestured to Melissa, nodding enthusiastically. "By all means, continue! I am enjoying all of this data!"

"Now, it might need a bit of work," Was the understatement of the year, "But remember we're loaded so it ain't, as they say, a thing." And then came the datapad with the pictures from the sale ad, which made Melissa's bottom lip drop as she looked at Phase incredulously. Enzo had to admit with some admiration that the shysters who'd sold it to him had taken their best effort to make it look like anything other than the dreadful pile of lumber and moss that the conman had waded through when he went to case the place for purchase.

Thoughtful angles gave it a sense of structure. It looked almost square. Careful timing gave it the appearance of having less than three colors throughout instead of the rainbow of rust, twisted siding, lighting scars, and rotting wood that had truly adorned the house. Still, the place was a dump. "Charming," Enzo suggested, "Homely, a project we can truly make our own."

"Wow, rural Nepleslian living conditions truly are a marvel!" Phase said, completely oblivious to the fact that it was effectively a condemned lot sold as a proper house.

Melissa exhaled on Enzo through her nose, flaring her nostrils at him. "I'm gettin' them PSG arseholes to drop a new 'ouse on that, an-" She leaned uncomfortably close to Enzo, shoulder to shoulder as she tried to loom over him. "-it'll 'ave running water 'n electricity, 'n shit."

"So..." Enzo squeezed and ground their shoulders even more tightly, matching Melissa's expression with a knowing look of his own, "We'll have made it our own, then. Project complete. Good idea."

Phase lit up with a smile again. "I have learned new things about romantic interactions on this day. Thank you for the un~warr~ant~ed lesson~!"

"Nah yeah, lesson bein' t' get someone's affection, drop an 'ouse and six 'undred acres of land on 'em." Melissa mumbled sarcastically. "Ya little rascal," she grabbed him around the neck with one of her arms and started escorting him out of the lounge, "lets make this a good fuckin' Yuletide."

After a minute had passed since their departure, Phase remarked, "Does this mean I cannot watch, then?"

She heaved a digital sigh. "The data already gathered will have to do."
 
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