revivalproject | It's a Party in the Not-USA

WHO: York Stark, YOU
WHERE: Agrii Ship
WHAT: Holiday Time
WHEN: New Tick
WARNINGS: York’s broken filter

#FF00F8

This being his third year for this, York knows what to expect for New Tick. Pink snow, too much fucking glitter, and gifts buried in wrapping paper that also probably had too much glitter. The android also knows better than to touch anyone else’s wrapped up presents because unlike the organics around him, that zap goes all the way from his fingertips to his toes. It does not feel any emulation of good.

So he keeps going until he finds his own stack. Three this year? How generous, though seeing one in wrapped up in orange feels suspicious. Did it have to do with the various colors the aliens were wearing? And the orange gift is big, too. Almost as big as York himself. What the hell could that be?

For now, it’s ignored. The pink gift gets opened first, revealing a pretty metallic frame holding…

Holy shit.

York stares at it, then looks up and around for the other two - no, three - in the photo. Then looks back to it again, with Mini, Reeve, Richie, and himself captured in the likeness of a family photo. A family photo. Their family. The only one he considered like that back in Detroit was Duncan, who obviously wasn’t here. After last year’s gift of the matching suits, it was clear that the Agrii recognized them as a family unit. They were a family unit.

The frame is set onto the table with some reverence, because York doesn’t want to break it, even by accident. The purple gift gets opened next and oh. A sewing kit! That’d be useful since Miss Lark went home. She had to have gone home, since he hasn’t seen her in a long time and Little Bear was hanging around one of the Hawkins people. The little kit gets put into his hoodie pocket and he goes for the last one.

The orange gift. It’s nearly flat, thin, and a decent weight. The paper falls to the floor when ripped open and York staggers back. A riot shield from home, with the words ‘RIOT UNIT’ printed on it. The same riot shields that the police used to protect themselves when raiding Jericho. He kicks it away from him, then steps backwards quickly as it clatters loudly to the floor.

#0093FF

The pavilion is nice.

York isn’t really a water kind of android anymore. Not since what happened back home right before being brought to Temba. The terror of the raid, then the shock of cold water that threatened to ice his hardware - water wasn’t what York would consider a good memory.

Standing on the pavilion with the riot shield laying on the floor of it before him felt like a good step towards not being traumatized by it. It wasn’t like he had to get into it after all.

It’s tempting to push the shield into the water and forget about it entirely. It feelsl ike a ‘fuck you’ kind of gift to him, knowing how the police felt about androids where he was from. Or maybe this was supposed to be a gift about taking something from your oppressor to defend yourself with’ kind of thing. Irony, maybe.

 Either way, he glares at it for a long moment, then looks back to the serene water stretched out before him.

#FFC300

Fireworks aren’t really York’s thing back home, and he’s okay with that. But seeing the glee in the younger aliens as they run around, piques York’s interest. It’s not like he could hurt himself the way organics could. He’d just have to repair himself.

Hm, maybe that’s what the sewing kit was for? For himself and his beloved hoodie.

The android goes over to the table to light up his own sparkler, using the burning end to help one of the small aliens light their own before they’re running off. The joy he sees on the alien’s face is enough to have him smile himself. York may be a machine, but he’s not entirely cold-hearted. He starts following at his walking pace, keeping the lit end away from him so the sparks don’t land on the skin mesh. The other hand is tucked into the hoodie pouch as he files after the running children, grinning at their antics.   This wasn’t his idea of ‘fun’, but it’s entertaining at the very least.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Hm. York puts just a slightly bit more distance between them as they walk at the mention of a taser. "Yeah, that is pretty deadly to someone like me. You manage to get the darts under my shell, you could seriously fuck up my entire system."

Which might upset a couple of people in the city. But also if York got tased, he was probably mouthing off and offending people again, so maybe deserved?

Once they get to the arts and crafts section, York finds a clear table and hauls his riot shield onto it. "Okay. My icon is pretty simple. I want red, but if there's none of that, I'll settle for something else."

Like she would have cause to use it on him.

"Well, I don't believe in hurting people who don't ask for it. Usually."

Except in self defense. So he's fine.

"WE might have to go with a really intense pink."

He holds up a finger to point for a moment. "It's the 'usually' that keeps my guard up." Even with all this time out of Detroit and it's politics, York still had reservations.

Right no red. There's a scanning look over the table and there is a hot pink but no red. There was no way to make an actual red since pink was just red mixed with white. He looks over the table again and then gathers the pink. It would do. At least it didn't have glitter in it.

What he paints onto the shield is a simple image that almost looks like a pound sign. York's hand is steady, software focused on recreating the symbol of the resistance from back home. A true deface of police property to the android. "What do you think?"

"It looks like a fortress, or the potential for one."

And that was actually a nice and fitting thing. She considers it further.

"May I write something on the bottom?"

"Yeah, we used it as a sign only androids could pick up at home. Humans couldn't really see it because they didn't know to look for it. It became a sign of our resistance and for other deviant androids."

York waves his hand in a fan-like fashion to dry the paint quicker. A brow raises up at her request. He studies her for a moment, then pushes the shield a little towards her. "You put any offensive shit on there and I'll throw paint on you."

"Offensive isn't my style. Most days. Just a traditional thing that equates to 'fuck the power' from back home. Most people wouldn't get it as I don't imagine most people here can read Kanji."

Though the communications people could of course.

Now that gets York's interest. Even gets a smirk from him at the idea of having it on the shield.

So he offers the paintbrush over to her. "You could pick a different color and put it over my symbol. A sort of union of similar ideas I think."

"Alright then. How about some...."

She looks at the offerings and sighs. Agrii really did pick a limited pallet.

"Orange might stand out best."

It's a Party in the Not-USA

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