revivalproject | Arrival Log & A Network Transmission

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Arrival Log & A Network Transmission

WHO: The Iron Bull (

theirondragon) and you
WHERE: The Fountain
WHAT: Arrival
WHEN: Saturday - Afternoon
WARNINGS: Bull is Bull, will warn as necessary.

The disorientation wore off faster than he would have thought possible. Looking around the place, it was kind of a shit hole, truth be told, but a vaguely familiar one. He couldn't quite put his finger on it as he stood, casting an intimidating shadow of muscles and horns, but the place just felt like he'd seen it before. It was like a dream, though, fleeting and dodgy any time he tried to focus on it. Instead, he followed his gut, which was telling him to touch that shiny thing over there. It was a weird dichotomy, honestly. His gut said to touch it, and his instinct told him it was probably magic or some other technological weird crap and that it would probably do something to him.

He touched it. His instincts were right. Agrii sounded familiar, too, and in that weird, half-dream sense as much as what the orb shoved into his head. That wasn't weird. That had happened a lot, he was pretty sure of it, but the big guy still shook his head, a hand on his forehead.

"Shit."

It was a lot, alright?

\\NETWORK - later\\

[The video feed comes on to show a grey-skinned man with sharp features, dark stubble, a scarred face with a fetching leather eyepatch (well, it at fetching according to at least one person who mattered), and what looked to be some hefty horns coming off his head. It was hard to tell their size from the feed, but they were definitely there.

He grins at the feed before he speaks, but it's a casual, good-natured thing. His voice is deep, too, earthy and rough. He speaks slowly like he has all the time in the world.]

Hey, folks. I just showed up, but I get the idea that's happened to a lot of you guys. I'm The Iron Bull. Any tips for the new guy? I'm open to all of it. Why don't we start with where to get a drink?

((OOC: For those of you continuing his TDM threads, responses are below from the latest tag!))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Understatement."

The thing about Tommy Shepherd was that there was often two states of interaction with him. The first was there was no Tommy Shepherd around. The second was that there was absolutely a Tommy Shepherd around. The problem was that while this is also true of most people, for them it's not as extreme of a binary state. Most people take time to arrive. They don't just appear. Tommy? A switch. One second he isn't there, the next nanosecond, he was.

This was one of those times. One second nothing, the next a lean young man with snow white hair and a basket on his hip filled to almost overflowing with tubers nearly the size of his head, each with a pale brown skin and grayish stripes on them. Listen, he wasn't the most creative at naming plants, okay? But the weight of that many things of that size should absolutely be impossible for someone his size to carry, and he was basically holding it like it was nothing. And he was staring at the Iron Bull.

"Welcome to a Temba. As the X-Men say, hope you survive the experience."

Bull didn't respond immediately, partially because he wasn't sure what to say, partially because there wasn't near enough hat on top of that silver head to be the one person he'd ever known to just appear somewhere, and also because he was catching up with the surprise. If there was one thing Bull hated it was being taken by surprise, but the kid seemed to be kind enough, and he didn't detect any deception in the sentiment, either.

"Uh...thanks. It's going to take a lot to take down the Iron Bull." He let a beat pass before he added, "where did you come from?"

Man, don't name yourself in the third person. How weird was that? Man just say 'me'. Tommy considered the question and his free hand pointed back to the obvious, tall, glass sided and roofed building.

"Greenhouse. Heading to the diner," he said, swinging his arm in the exact opposite direction. The two places were on either side of the central fountain.

It's a whole thing, Tommy. You'll get used to it. It makes him sound like a thing, not a person. It's the whole vibe.

"The diner, huh?" He followed the guy's motions, taking careful note of both places, before nodding. "I guess you don't need an extra set of hands. At least not one as slow as mine." Because he was catching up. The guy didn't just appear. Just like Cole, he just wasn't seen. Cole messed with your head. This guy was a lot more normal. He was just fast. Real fast.

Yeah, it was clearly going to be a thing and it was something Tommy would lean to deal with. For now, though, he supposed he should help get the new guy dealt with.

"I don't need them, but I'll use them. Here, carry this. We'll get you there and fed. And I'm used to being slow for all the people around me. Can't even imagine how many calories it takes to be as awesome as me."

"Can't really say I know what calories are, big guy, but I bet it takes a lot to keep you going."

He honestly wasn't sure what the kid was talking about but he took the basket, because learning more about this place was imperative to surviving in it and the kid seemed to be willing to provide information.

"I'm not turning down a meal, though."

"They're like, the amount of energy in food," Tommy said, frowning because he knows the damn definition is way off, but he's not sure how to make it better.

He let the heavier than it looked basket be taken away, shoved his hands in his pocket, and started walking.

"Good. I'm making baked tigertubers with fixings so hopefully you're down for some patience."

"Right." That sounded like something he didn't need to worry about. He ate when he was hungry until he wasn't hungry anymore. When he did more strenuous things for longer, he got hungry faster. Who the hell needed to measure it?

"Tigertuber?"

"Yeah, those," he said, pointing to the heavy basket the guy was now carrying. "You bake them, they taste savory already, and you put really good toppings on it."

He glanced down to the basket's contents for a moment.

"So...weird potatoes?"

Exactly. Tommy nods and smiles as he does so, keeping them crossing to the diner.

"More or less. It's like potatoes with extra MSG or something. Just all tasty and savory. Make a great soup thing if we don't always have meat. Which isn't always a thing because a lot of people are squeamish."

"We don't have a butcher, you mean." He chuckled. "Well, tell you what. I can handle some hunting, and the cuts might not be pretty, but they'll taste good."

"We don't have a butcher anymore," Tommy countered. "We've got fishers, we've got people who will hunt, but we lost the guy that was ACTUALLY willign to slaughter and butcher up the glownies."

And Tommy could use a steak. Still, if Bull will help...

"You do that, you get extra cuts."

He chuckled at that, but nodded.

"I'm not promising perfection, but I can take down some beasts for food if I need to. Count me in."

"SCore," Tommy grinned, and then he darted forward, gone in a silver-white blur until he was at the door of the diner and waving to Bull. With a tigertuber in each hand. When did he steal those from the basket?

"Gonna start baking these! Catch up!"

Catch up, the kid said. He blinked, shaking his head and trying to piece together the last place he saw the guy before he took off like that. Cole had a similar habit of just appearing and disappearing, but that was something you got used to. Hell, maybe he'd get used to this one, too.

The Diner took a little longer to find than the Bull'd anticipated, but he'd lost his guide. It gave him the time to take in the place, though he was pretty sure those weird potatoes would already be baked by the time he stepped inside.

"Hey, Hasty. You still around?"

Yeah, he'd get used to Tommy. There really wasn't a choice in that matter. Tommy was just too around to not get there. The good thing about it was that it wasn't like the diner was too far away. And sure enough there was heat in the building, and the building savory scent of something being cooked.

"Of course I'm still around. Gotta clean and put those tubers away. Maybe get some roasted as a light lunch for people today," he called from the back.

There weren't actually many things the Bull couldn't get used to, speedsters included. Evidently, once upon a time, he'd gotten used to being a space ship captain, so that was a thing. Granted, someone very important to him had been here at the same time. That...helped. Now? Now he just had memories to support him. It would be more work.

"Yeah, okay. You need a hand roasting the weird potatoes?"

"I mean, yeah," Tommy grinned and gestured for the guy to approach with the basket. He pointed toward the sink they had set up. "Scrub those just a little, get the soil off of them."

Then he could teach Bull how to wrap them in the fragrant leaves in here to give a better taste."

It was a task the Bull took to easily and he followed Tommy's direction, moving to the sink and getting to work.

"Sounds good." It was interesting simply because all the buildings here were, well, him-sized. It made moving around and getting the work done much easier. "So, what do you do around here when you're not harvesting food?"

"Not much. When we first got to this planet, the food needed managed. Because of what I am, and what I can do, I require a lot more food than other people," Tommy said, and he was starting a fire in the oven before moving to collect the leaves he needed and some forks. "Figured it would be unfair for me to eat all that food and not, you know, make sure other people are fed too. Though I'm also trying to learn how to do electrical work."

"And you, what, started a farm? I've heard of worse ideas." The kid moved around so fast it sent the Bull's head reeling trying to keep up with him, so instead he decided to look around the place, get an idea of where the other exits were, and a feel for how often people came and went for the place. It was something solid to focus on.

"We, huh? How long have you been here?"

"Didn't start a farm," Tommy answered as he considered and then took out a few other things to season the tubers with. "The greenhouse was already there. I just tend it. People who work there aren't always the ones that stick around the longest. So I'm like, the only one that's been there from the start, 'cept Lance. Though I transplant other things."

Because people needed as much difference in their diets. And Tommy was coming to learn how to handle some of that shit.

"Uh, years I guess. I was with the first crew the Agrii brought in."

"So, this place came with a greenhouse, huh?" It was starting to sound more and more like something that was planned, or maybe this place had been a frontier settlement for the Agrii before they'd come along. He still didn't have enough information to go on, but he was collecting it, committing it to memory. You never knew when things would be important and when they wouldn't after all.

"Years, huh?" That was slightly disconcerting, but he could roll with it. He couldn't shake the feeling this was all more familiar than it should have been, but that could be the blame of the shiny ball he touched when he showed up here. Weird magic/technology crap. "Food's a good place to start, though. It keeps people centered, so good on you." He watched the spices and seasonings Tommy was gathering, too. It definitely wouldn't hurt to know what things tasted like. "So, your first memory's of this place, right? The Agrii brought you here, not...somewhere else?" It was an awkward question, definitely, but one that was necessary. He couldn't shake the feeling he'd been in a situation like this before, but not like this and he needed to determine if he was the only one.

“Damn right it did. I expect that the Agrii used it to have fresh food out of season.”

Maybe it was more environmentally friendly than big agro-farms. Tommy really didn’t know. Farming back home wasn’t something he knew much about. Still, he put his full attention on Bull for a moment to consider the question.

“Yeah, definitely here. Agrii only ever brought people here. Though I’m told the ships we use, those used to belong to the Fleet. The Agrii brought us because they saw those ships, and the people originally on them, on some evil reality TV show run by some evil aliens called the Atroma. There are still a few of those fleet people around here. Not many, but they are around.”

Arrivalish

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