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]

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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.

It's fine, Cayde's not much up for giving one anyway.

"Wow, that's kind of extreme. For us Exos it's more or less expected that we know how to use weapons, but I doubt anyone's got a real option to complain when you need all hands on deck if fighting starts." He shakes his head. Earth as York knows it sure doesn't sound very appealing.

"Got a good friend back home, also an Exo, who makes weapons. Best damn gunsmith in the Tower."

"Yeah, well that's humans for you. We're nothing more than replaceable appliances to them. And they don't want their appliances to be able to fight back. I don't think we're at the same kind of level of fighting that you're at in your world."

The android thinks for a long moment, studying the weapons supply. "Think there's a way you could teach me how to use some of this stuff? Or is that a no-no by the aliens that hold us here? Or whoever makes the laws here?" Because if he could learn to defend himself at least, that would be better. Especially if he was going to continue to live in this stupid city surrounded by humans and other organics.

Appliances. Cayde makes a face. "Yeah, I don't think I'd be able to play nice in your world if that's the outlook."

He snorts then, setting the mattress down to conceal the weapons cache again. "I believe the Agrii frown upon use of weapons but aren't against it so long as it's not against each other. We've had plenty of instances where we've needed to defend ourselves, and they've even provided weapons for it at one point- of course you need download the dumb instructions just to know how to fire a gun." Cayde waves a hand. "Anyway, yeah, I can teach you some stuff, no problem. You wouldn't be the first who's asked."

"If it helps, there's a lot of us that don't play nice in my world. If I had it my way, the revolution would be violent. But Markus is insisting that we do it peacefully and it... seems to be working. Just the results are slow. Too slow for my liking when there's so many of us dying in wait."

"The Agrii are weird. We can't harm each other with weapons, but apparently we could push each other into the mines? Or the pit? Or whatever the fuck it's supposed to be?" A soft frown that's quickly gone. "Yeah? Well I guess I should reach out whenever we get back to Temba then. Work on getting instructed with how to use the shit you're hiding in here."

"Peace is usually slow, unfortunately. But it's worth it if it can be accomplished. I can understand getting anxious about it, 'specially if it's a slow burn."

Cayde shakes his head then. "Yeah, I don't know that they thought everything through. Then again, given they think everyone that gets pulled in has some criteria of being a 'hero' then it probably doesn't come to mind that we might be capable of going at each other's necks." It's been a learning experience for them, that's for sure.

"You do that. Heh, this isn't even half of it, kid," the Exo grins.

"That's why you need a catalyst to speed it up." If finger guns were his thing, York would use them. But he's not, so the hands stay still. He doesn't want the peace to be slow, he wants it now so others like him stop dying. Or getting reprogrammed, or assaulted, or anything else that's illegal to do to a human.

A scoff. "I'm definitely not a hero. Or maybe I am, to someone, but they're wrong. A better assessment is me probably being someone's villain."

He rolls his eyes, but has a bit of a lopsided grin on his face. "Yeah, I guess I know who to come to for contraband."

It's fine, Cayde'll finger-gun enough for the both of them.

"Hey, even anti-heroes aren't necessarily villains. You be your own hero. Or...something."

Shaking his head, the Exo steps out into the hall with a brief cackle. "Oh you know it! I'm gonna go see if we're headed anywhere fun. We'll catch up later."

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Bishop to E14

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