RP: 188604 [AdVenture Capital] 1: Nath Tower

Werner smiled back as Aashi took his hand and led him towards the others. He was quiet as he was led over to the others. As they walked up he nodded to Akemi. "Long time no see..." He said softly as he simply said hello to the others...

He followed Aashi and the others over to the lounge and waited for the others to take a seat. As Aashi squeezed his hand, he gave her a soft smile. He moved over to one of the lounge's loveseats and owaited for Aashi to take a seat before he sat down himself.

Holding onto her braids, it took a prolonged period before Lycosidae actually said anything, examining the two new faces more closely. They really were too nice, and the short cyborg still did not quite trust pleasantries that went unpaid for. She did not need a warning. Akemi was always paid back for his efforts, she made sure of that one.

"Sorry cat boy, but even with the lighter wheels and tracks, it's still 500kg. Furniture and me don't agree. What did you think the rollbar was for?" Chose an ottoman to lean forwards and over instead, resting their hands on their chin whilst continuing to absorb the character of this new neppy capitalist and the Iromakaunhe lady. It was way more difficult to gauge people who do not carry cyborgisations for their job. "I don't believe we have met... Ulysses Werner, was it?..."

"My name is Lycosidae. I'm the one who designed the new, bigger metal spiders." Said plainly. Her voice was rather shallow and raspy, but quietly firm. "Did I hear right about you having a big purple ship, or something?"

Since everything launched forward four pages while I was gone:

With all the general commotion, it wasn't exactly easy to note that Arccos had made good on her promise to leave. Things had to be done, and someone had to do them. No time. Never enough time. The only sign that Arccos and her little posse left in their passing as a few missing baggies of drugs, and an empty champagne flute that Aashi had proffered to the Sheriff of Osman City.

A little note underneath it read:

"Sorry, we're busy."

Werner looked over to the Freespacer and nodded softly. "It is nice to meet you Lycosidae. No, my ship isn't purple. My ship is a retrofitted C2 escort carrier called the Necromancer." He replied from his spot next to Aashi. He finished the rest of his whiskey and signaled the bartender for another one before he added. "Impressive work on the new spiders. They have come in handy as I have been told. You should be proud. He said pushing his glasses up and taking a new glass of whiskey from the waitress, mouthing a thank you.

"Hey Truffleclub, come over to Lycosidae and I."

After waiting a bit for the giant metal dude to come over Akemi decided to get things going. "Well I guess since my friend is a bit shy I'll just start stuff off by saying she is looking to make stuff like a transportation system like subways or trains. I figure I'm gonna start mining with her so we'll have the resources to build whatever we want. Truffleclub wants to work with plants. We could all work together."

Uso would wave at the bartender, securing a tall glass of the neon green liquid for Gut-Stripe... along with a few paper towels.

"Lets see how a double-tall hits you!" Uso said, excitedly sliding the glass over, "... I've never seen your kind drunk, I bet you're adorable!"

"Sorry, that must have been in a TV show I saw..." Lyco shirked backwards with a little embarrassment, moving from hands-on-chin to having them folded together. Watching Werner down that brown capitalistic drink just made her wonder if they had any Sith brew-style drinks. Akemi explained herself better than she could anyway. "...Yes... Still getting used to what exactly this planet needs, but... A civillian conversion of the deathcrawler would certainly be much cheaper to produce and maintain than a yammie hovercar. At least around these parts..."

"Cloudee likes the plants. But Cloudee's job is doctor and engineer." Cumbersome tones, from right over the pale nekovalkyrja's shoulder. Truffleclub was on it's hands and knees, but still looming over them imposingly. Easy to forget it could levitate just as well as the cat boy, and thus move pretty silently. Polite enough to remove their top hat when speaking indoors, at least. "I am working with those that are making deals, is. This building... Good pattern for large greenhouse, is... Query, is them making new friends, are?"

Corgan finished off his cup of brandy. He was starting to feel a slight buzz. Long ago, he had learned that he didn't get drunk as easily as most people. The amount of alcohol someone with ID-SOL heritage could consume would kill a normal Nepleslian. Maybe he would feel more after his second glass. He signaled the bartender for more. "That sounds more interesting than an architect. My job involves nothing but destruction, so maybe we're opposites. I'm a founding member of Ragnarok, the PMC that Uso hired to secure this planet." He replied, looking down at her to see her reaction. He hoped she wouldn't be repulsed by him now.

"I have to admit, your appearance is what brought me over here. You look exotic and mysterious with your veil, and I think that's extremely attractive. If you did anything other than civil engineering I would probably be trying to get into your pants right now." Corgan said honestly. Damn, this Iroma shit is no joke, he thought. "But, uh.. I might need your expertise so I will keep it professional. I'm starting a new division of Ragnarok focused on armored vehicles, and we're in need of an engineer to build a modern bunker on 188604." He hoped that being completely honest about his initial reason for approaching her hadn't been a mistake.

"So, you are intending to intoxicate me," Gut-Stripe said, letting out another snorting chuckle of amusement as a second, taller glass was placed in front of her. "Uso, you are malicious. Just remember that I place myself in your care." With that, the Thi-Thi commander took the second glass gingerly in her powerful jaws and tossed her head back, allowing the neon-coloured fluid to flow down into her mouth. She placed the glass back down when she was finished, still sitting atop the counter quietly as she examined the growing effect of the alcohol on her body.

"I suppose that remains to be seen," Queenie said in response to Corgan's first suggestion. She knew of combat engineers and the vast knowledge that went into weapons and targeting systems for precision attacks and bombardment. On the other hand, there was... improvising.

She remained impassive as Corgan surged on, fixing him with a stare. It was hard to read. She relaxed somewhat, and nodded as he changed the subject. "That's simple enough. I don't have any workers or materials, though, and what makes a good design depends on its implementation as much as its goals. If one must build a fortress from straw, it must be planned differently, perhaps to the point of considering if it wouldn't be better to keep one's forces at all times mobile, particularly if they can eat straw.

"Still, I should ask what the goal of this bunker is, too. Are you concerned about attacks from saboteurs and primitive artillery, or more modern threats, as well?"

Uso would flag down the bartender, getting Gut-Stripe a glass of water.

"I mean, you could say no... But you seem just as eager to find out what will happen as me... So are you heros to your people now? Do the I'ee get famous?" Uso asked, slowly sliding the cup of water towards Gut-Stripe.

"I could say no," Gut-Stripe agreed, hovering her antennae over the glass of water and tilting her head. She didn't protest, drinking the water much like she had the other drinks and turning her head to look up at Uso. "The JTE and I have only done what any other I'ee would do in our places," she said to Uso. "It is you and your associates that the I'ee have to thank for our continued survival, Uso."

"So then why do you do all of this?" Uso asked, "... I mean, yeah, survival and all that... but there's got to be a good reason you wanted to go into the I'ee stab things with a pointy metal sword core rather than being a scientist or a hugbug like Sammy?

For that matter what is next for the I'ee? What do your people plan to do next?"

The Thi-Thi warrior gazed up at Uso for a moment with her head tilted, as if confused. "You do not understand us, Uso," Gut-Stripe said. "Our families are each specialised in a certain profession. Ee'ith chose to be ambassadors. My family, Thi-Thi, and the protector's of the I'ee; our military, you could say." The I'ee turned, lifting her forelimbs up and reaching out to Uso with them, asking for a hug. "As for what we shall do next... My family will return home and with your aid, will upgrade our fleets. I am sure Ee'ith will continue to seek friendship with aliens like yourself. For the most part, though, I believe we are content to keep to ourselves."

"I really don't. You just... do one thing, all the time. It is weird. I am weirded out by it."

Uso raised up her hand, and ordered another water,

"... Do your people have spies? Or is that something your people can't do?... I mean... it'd be adorable if your people couldn't lie...

You know what? That isn't the point.

The point is getting your hooks in someone is pretty straight forward. Vice, Duty, Adventure... it is always one of those three things that'll get someone to follow along. It is just really weird for me to see an entire people that are so" Uso moved her hands around like she was gathering up sand... or clay, or something, "Duty focused? I keep wanting to ask you what you're really after on a personal level but when I do I get the same answer. You're doing I'ee stuff."

Gut-Stripe tilted her head to one side, watching Uso motion with her hands. Since the Empress didn't respond to her silent request for a hug, the I'ee lowered her forelimbs back down. "Spies... I think Oo'tut once made use of spies of some sort," she said. "My family does not, however." The I'ee listened to Uso, watching her gesticulations with curiousity, before letting out a soft, huffing laugh. "I find it amusing that you expect anything more out of me, Uso. Without my duty to my family, and my species as a whole, what would I do?"

"You'd do... you know, whatever." Uso said, waving one of her hands about as if she were trying to cast a magical spell of understanding,

"Its just... weird. Dealing with someone so singular is makes me feel like there is something I am missing about you. Like I am going to find out that you have some dark secret. I mean... not like dark secret... more like a hidden variable, some secret knowledge, some big of you that I am not going to take into account later when I need to.

How am I supposed to manipulate you if I don't know what you like to do on the side? When your family doesn't need you do you go home and practice stabbing things? What happens when they no longer need you? Do you retire? Go do some other job?"

"There is nothing relevant to our relationship that I have not told you," Gut-stripe spoke matter-of-factly. "For you to manipulate myself and my family any more than you already do would be none of your business." The I'ee listened quietly as Uso spoke, visibly stiffening at the words 'no longer need you'. "I... When I am no longer needed, I will die," the I'ee answered, her voice shaking, though it quickly firmed again. "Do not suggest that I am of no use, Uso. I am perfectly capable of demonstrating my worth." Gut-Stripe was hissing softly; like a soda being opened extremely slowly.

Corgan shrugged. "Workers and materials should be no problem. I may be able to borrow some of Arccos's junkers, and if not maybe I can work out a deal with the tank girl. The planet itself should have plenty of raw materials. I could buy some if necessary." He replied, picking up the refilled glass and taking a big drink. The brandy was definitely starting to have an effect. His cheeks were flushed, and he was starting to feel relaxed.

"Anyway, saboteurs and primitive firearms are the immediate threat, but I'm looking to the future. Modern threats might be here anytime now that we aren't really a secret anymore. There are a few interesting places I have in mind for the bunker. Rock formations that would be ideal for a large installation. Most of the facility would be below ground level. Access would be through tunnels into the side of the rock. It'll need a hangar built into the side higher up, big enough for a medium-sized freighter. One of those iris doors would be cool, but one that big might be too vulnerable..."

He paused, realizing he had been talking nonstop. "Does any of this sound like a bad idea? I know nothing about engineering. I just always loved those awesome lairs that movie villains always have, you know? Except I don't want to make stupid mistakes like they do, or to be a bad guy. The Reavers will fight for law and order. We might fight dirty, but who cares if it's for a good cause?" By now, he was starting to ramble. Corgan looked down at her. "You're pretty. And so shiny. Are you a princess?"

"Bunkers benefit from materials that are a bit less raw, but with what you have, reinforced concrete should be... not too difficult." Queenie had been about to say 'no problem', but she wasn't certain about the quality of local laborers, or even Lycosidae's junkers. She'd been a bit spoiled in that regard, having the bulk of her tools and equipment designed to her specifications by a Type V engineering savant.

"'Hangar bay' and 'bunker' aren't easy design goals to combine, that would be a bigger project than Uso's new pyramid, from an engineering perspective. Just a bunker should do you well to start off with, though. Your starship can defend itself from those immediate threats you've mentioned, I'm sure.

"I've been called worse things than that," was her final comment before downing most of her remaining imaginary drink. It wasn't possible to see that Queenie was flushed, what with the highly-reflective microbial colony that lived in synthesis with her skin. Flustered, she wasn't, though. "I don't know much about the logistics of armoured companies, so I can't tell you if you'd be better off staying above ground and mobile."