revivalproject | Bishop to E14

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Bishop to E14

WHO: The Bishop Crew [Flamingle 🦩!]
WHERE: The Bishop ship IN SPACE!
WHAT: WHO’S DRIVING THIS THING? Oh shit that’s me–
WHEN: Event Start
WARNINGS: “...–This is your captain speaking. First I'd like to welcome everyone on Stark Technologies Flight 25Y. We are currently experiencing difficulties without a pilot so I’m substituting in for him–…”

I. Baggage Check

York’s been out here to the hangar before, but he actually hadn’t been on the actual ship. Once inside he made his claim on a top bunk and put his hoodie up there for now. He didn’t plan on really sleeping in it that much, but it was his and that’s what mattered. He starts exploring the other areas, finding rooms that don’t really pertain to him save the room with the lone treadmill.

He lingers in the cockpit though, looking over the intricate display of buttons, levers, and of course, a steering wheel. From the engineering data point some of it makes sense, but the android knows that if something happens to the physical structure of the ship, he could fix it. Maybe. Probably. It was almost like having the ship’s manual in his head. Just the manual was missing pages. And had a bite taken out of an important corner or two.

“So we’re here. What the fuck do we do now? Wait for whoever the fuck the pilot is?” York thinks he’s talking out loud to himself, leaning against the pilot’s chair to look over the various sections waiting.

II. Landing

Maybe he should’ve waited for whoever was the fucking pilot. York’s assigned himself as pilot since he’s the only one that’s smart enough to know how the ship runs at least. Piloting… just didn’t entirely fall in that category. But somehow, through jerky shifts and a ride that’s about as smooth as metal scrapyard, he’s made it to wherever they were being told to go.

“What the absolute fuck,” he mutters sourly in the pilot’s seat. “People do this shit as a career? Fuck that. Let me just build shit instead.”

He gets up from the chair to head back towards where the boxes have appeared, one labeled for each of them. Opening his, York pulls out an outfit designated for him. “Great. We’re playing dress up while going to a foreign planet. Fan-fucking-tastic.”

III. Baggage Claim

[Make like a flamingo and go flamingle with your shipmates! Feel free to make your own top levels to interact with the rest of the crew if you'd like! <3]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Well yeah, because I wasn't going to fuck scan you because that shit is creepy to do to others." He frowns at Cayde before getting down from his bunk to walk over. But he's understanding right there's a sort of... recognition? Or maybe awe on his face.

"...You're sort of like me then. I'm an android from 2038 earth. You seriously look like you're wearing armor from some futuristic sci-fi media." The skin of York's face melts away, leaving a white pristine casing in its wake as his teal eyes blinked out from the sockets. "I keep away from Tony too for the most part. Though he might be the only one that could make spare parts for me if anything happened."

"Well, it'd definitely be the most handsome looking armor you'd ever find." Cayde grins crookedly, pushing himself to sit up again as York comes down from the bunk.

"You're a pretty slick looking android. I'm not sure why Bray went with the all metal look for his desi- whoa! Warn a guy first, huh?" The Exo blinks at what's left beneath with the disappearance of York's skin. "Whoa. Now that is an interesting trick. Does it come back?"

He snorts a little, giving a nod. "Eh, can't blame you for keeping your distance. He gets a little too um...excited, about robo-people. But I can't deny he does good work if you do find yourself in need of repairs."

A smirk. "Nah. I go for shock value and I see it worked on you." The skin reappears to have him look human once more. It doesn't seem like it disappearing and reappearing is uncomfortable. There's no really any prominent lines or whatnot left in its wake either. "Pretty much all androids have this 'ability' in my world. Cyberlife ones, I think, can change some things, like the color of their hair."

He leans against the frame of the ship next to Cayde's bed, arms crossing. "Yeah, I've seen it here and there. The way he looks at the pieces I've risked putting on display. I made a call out on the network, don't know if you noticed or anything. Where I opened my shell and asked if people could make parts. I think that's the fastest I've ever gotten a message from someone."

"You must be a hit at parties," Cayde smirks back. "Sounds pretty nifty though." It's pretty amazing to watch as everything knits back together too. Still a little creepy. Some kind of nanotechkery like Tony's magical metal armor skin?

His knowing smile returns as he can only nod in sympathy. "Unsettling, kinda weird, but I'm pretty sure he means well. ...okay maybe not all the time, sometimes he just wants to genuinely take you apart to see how you work. Or ask if he can have your babies."

"Of course I am. I'm the smartest of my brothers and the best looking fucker of the three of us," York gloats with that smirk still on his face.

"Yeah, see it's weird. The Tony here is...Anthony? I think? Anthony Stark. My 'dad' is Antonio Stark in my world, a human. It's like some sort of shitty parallel universe ordeal. So yeah, don't remark about him having babies or something because that is just hella fucking weird and gross to me."

That gets a grin from the Exo. He likes this robo-kid.

As York goes into the explanation of the existence of a Tony Stark- in his world, Cayde rests his chin in a palm, elbow propped over a knee. "Huh! Still hard to think about there being multiples of him. Sometimes it's hard dealing with just one, know what I mean?" he laughs. "You tell him that? Or figure it's on a 'need to know' kinda deal?"

If people are going to actually start liking him, York's going to fucking hate it here.

"No, he already knows. We can fucking thank Calibrations for that bullshit if I remember right. One of them is enough and yet there's at least two of them in the numerous universes. Fuck that noise. I'm dealing with the shithead Stark here as best I can, trying to work through separating what I... know of my Tony and this world's asshole. Err, Tony. Same thing probably."

Though honestly the Tony here hadn't been too fucking awful. Was interested in how his system worked - or at least the hardware - but was nice enough to keep his goddamn hands to himself. All of that information, however, wouldn't be so willingly admitted out-loud. No one needed to know that York Stark could be soft. Not in a city full of organics.

"Ah, right. Hard to keep secrets when people are barging into your head overnight," Cayde says with a sigh. "Well...guess that at least makes things easier- in that instance anyway." He knows there's mixed feelings on Calibrations and he's not too fond of something being able to open their minds up so simply. But at least in his experiences some of the people he's paid visits to have been pretty...welcoming? Open to sharing.

For all Cayde says about Tony, it's in fondness. The guy's become a good, if strange friend, but then Cayde has many strange friends. In any case, Tony usually goes about things in the same way when it comes to talking about the Exo, so he'd call it even.

York was not fond of Calibrations at all. He was almost the first to leave that hellscape - only some guy with silvery hair had ran off like a shot bullet.

He thinks about what he can remember from the dreamscapes he had been trapped in. Trapped in that workshop that had been too small, a body that was too small to reflect who he truly was. "The Tony here thinks mine is ugly. But I think he actually wants to help make parts for me. Not experiment on me. And I think there are people that wouldn't take well to someone else in this fucking stupid city being experimented on like that anyways."

"What, he said that? Well, he says things," Cayde does have to concede. He offers a smile though, nodding. "I'm sure he does. He's a strange one, but he's a good man. He'll help you if you need it. For what it's worth, you can trust him."

Of course Cayde won't hold York to take the word of a robot guy he's just met, but he's still sincere in what he says.

"Yeah, it was actually kind of hilarious. It's one of the few things my programming remembers from the dreamscapes." He thinks about what Cayde's saying, trying not to frown at being told he could trust this city's Tony.

"You know, you're not really the first to tell me that, and... my programming is stubborn. Learning, but stubborn. The shit I've dealt with from my Tony, Antonio. Gaslighting, experimenting, all that fun shit. Because androids don't have rights as sentient beings in my world."

Not yet anyways.

"Once burned, something something, right? There's a saying, anyway. But I think I get it," Cayde nods. "It's your choice though, whether you decide to take a step outside that box and try to give things a chance here. Things're different, people are different, and we don't know if we'll end up walking upside-down tomorrow or shipped off to a nice getaway planet.

"I know we didn't end up here by our own choice, but I've decided to make the most of it. Don't know if I'll get sent back or if something'll happen here, but I can enjoy people I'd otherwise never have had the chance to meet, hear about places and versions of Earth I'd never know. The Agrii may have asked us to help, but if I'm being honest, first and foremost, I'd be fighting to keep the people stuck in this mess with me safe if things happen."

York looked to Cayde, brows furrowed over bright eyes. The other made a lot of sense of course. Sound logic laced with emotion that York didn't have a handle on. He could think with logic and work off of emotions, but sometimes getting those to work together was a challenge. A silent nod.

"Sensible. I... started making some progress. I had Tony look at the inside of my arm without touching to get an idea of what... I need. I literally have no parts in the city so I'm fucked if something happens." How did you admit to someone that you were scared? York didn't, and wouldn't. Not to someone he just met anyways.

He frowns a little, looking away again. "I was programmed to be an architect. I guess I should start putting that shit to use whenever we get back to the city."

Cayde doesn't expect the android kid to accept things just like that, but he'd at least like to give him something to ponder on, especially if it'll help ease some of the weight York's obviously shouldering.

"Progress is good," the Hunter nods. York doesn't have to say some things out loud for him to get the idea. "You and me both. Hell, I don't even know how I work. Usually I can take care of any damages though, but given those storms and things that cut us off from any special extras we might have, I need to have a backup plan."

He lifts his arm, giving it a wiggle. "This arm got sliced off- not fun, but I figured I'd have Tony have a stab at reattaching it for me instead of my usual methods. Better having a trial run than going in fresh in an emergency, that was my thinking anyway."

Settling back again, Cayde arches a brow at York before nodding. "An architect? That'll come in handy. I mean, you've seen the state the city's in. I think Reeve's about the only other person who's had the experience."

How does one not even know how they work? While York couldn't repair himself, he had the understanding of how his own hardware and software worked for the most part. The android could relay to his brother what was broken and submit himself for repairs.

Eyes grow wide at the remark that Cayde's arm had been sliced off. Sliced off! Holy shit. York sobers up, listening and processing the rest of the conversation. "Honestly, I'm not special. I'm an android that can build. I don't have special powers or anything." A small shrug because that was true. Being made of software he had deviated from wasn't something you'd find in a book probably. Except for ones bringing to light what made someone human.

"Yeah, the city is shit, and that's coming from me, who was living in a fucking abandoned freighter." And he chose to live there, instead of a comfortable home with a family that he had.

Lost technology and who knew how many years before the Light had revived the first Exo back on Earth. Cayde didn't know how much time had passed between his first death and when his Ghost had found him, but he knows he wouldn't have gotten this far without her.

"Hey, we all got specialties. Doesn't have to be a super power, and anyway those are usually only good for certain things a small percentage of the time. I know what I'm good at but usually there aren't too many things that needa be shot around here. I can clear out rubble and scavenge furniture, maybe do a quick repair job but I'm just happy that none of the chairs at the bar fall apart under someone's weight."

York taps his chin in thought for a moment, thinking about the things Cayce listed. "I heard of the bar, I think. No need for me to go there though. I wonder though, the removed rubble. If it could be repurposed. Maybe used like stonework that was prominent of the architecture of medieval era England. Or maybe a way to melt it down to refashion it into something more usable to rebuild with."

He blinks, apparently coming out of his programming with a little shake. "Probably be able to repurpose furniture as well, though I've never done that. Can't be too far from building, right? Maybe?"

"You don't have to drink. I made that place as a general hang out. We got a karaoke machine and even a pool table now!"

Cayde fingers his chin, nodding. "Not quite sure what all the material is that they use for these places but yeah, I don't see why not. Furniture seems like it's not a far stretch - small scale repurposing, yeah? Sounds like something to try."

"I mean, I literally cannot drink. I have no digestive system, there's nothing in the back of my mouth that can handle consumables. All it would do is clog up my ventilation system and no one wants that. Wouldn't mind watching the humans do karaoke though. I bet that shit is hilarious. " York focuses again on the planning of rebuilding when they get back. If they get back.

"I'm sure it can be figured out. Building is my initial directive like I said, so it should be easy enough." He says that, not even bothering to hide the bit of a cocky tone to his words.

"I mean, it could be," Cayde grins. It's kind of magical how a little karaoke can prompt people to cut loose. He supposes the drinks can help with that too.

He arches a brow before chuckling then. "Oh yeah? I guess we'll just have to see then." A little bit of goading? Just a little friendly nudge.

"If it's anything like my world, then yeah. It's hilarious." He speaks while his mind is going over the internal map he's made so far of the city. It's not very big since he hasn't made his way to too many places, but... it's there. There are notes on some buildings where there's repairs needed to the structure and what not. York gets... lost in the thoughts for a moment, then comes back to the conversation.

"I'm already working on my own internal map of the city, with markings on what buildings need better structural support and what's needing to be fixed on some of them. Means I probably need to go out into the city a bit more..."

"Not a bad thing to do, really. Beats being stuck in one place. At least this one moves."

Cayde gives the floor a tap with the toe of his boot. "Speaking of which-! Have we gone anywhere yet? Or we still waiting for passengers?" He swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up, stretching out like he'd just had a nap.

"Wonder if I can still grab my gun. I know the Agrii said not to bring stuff..." He makes a brief face before grinning slyly over at York. "-but they didn't say anything about stuff that was already stowed on the ship."

He puts a finger to his non-existent lips as he turns to face the bed, pulling up the mattress to give York a peek at its underside. There's at least several knives sheathed and velcroed against the thing and a sidearm tucked in the corner of the bed's base, with a small pouch that likely holds cartridges. It may look like a meager selection but Cayde's not going to sleep on grenades. Those are elsewhere.

"Just in case. You find yourself ever needing a knife," he offers, giving a vague gesture towards them before he lowers the mattress.

"Yeah, but they don't seem to move often. Not that I have much room to talk with where I'm from. Once we moved into Detroit, we sort of settled into there. I miss Manhattan a lot though. Detroit just cannot fucking compare."

York's thinking about going to the cockpit when Cayde shows off his collection of knives and... a sidearm. "Is this is a ship or a munitions storage facility?" He huffs out an unneeded breath. "Never used a knife before. Only a fireman's hatchet, but that was during an emergency situation at home. But I guess I'll keep your storage in mind?"

It's strange, being willingly offered a weapon in this city. Back home it was illegal for any android to have a weapon.

"Always wondered how pre-Golden Age cities were," Cayde muses. "And then I almost got hit by a car in one and figured maybe I wasn't missing out on much."

He grins. "Hey, can't blame a guy for wanting to be prepared. Maybe I should bring more guns..." Shrugging, he wanders towards the door to peek out and see if the rest of their crew's about. "Knife's a lot easier than a hatchet but it doesn't give as much of a range. Good for getting things out of your face real quick though. And throwable, although that does take some practice."

Golden age? York has no idea what Cayde is talking about, but he's not up for a history lesson at the moment.

"Yeah, I don't. I've only used the hatchet because I didn't have anything else at my disposal for the raid the humans did on our home. Androids, deviant or not, aren't allowed a weapon at all by law and any android found with one gets... decommissioned. Pretty much as soon as they're arrested." Not that humans care, but it's probably not pretty for the android to find their way into that fate.

Bishop to E14

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