#packagcdcal

Agnes wants to comfort Chum, to give him some sort of matronly advice on the situation, but that pool was pitifully shallow at the best of times and ran the risk of being condescending. None of her prior experiences have even come close to being akin to what Chum is, rather ironic considering the fact that Agnes deals with the supernatural and eldritch on an alarming basis.

The best she can do for the moment is to offer him a sympathetic smile, risking a comforting pat to his shoulder as she thinks it shouldn't affect him. "I can't say I know exactly what you're going through, but I believe I can at least somewhat relate." How much of her was ever human? Could one consider her to be a human if her only purpose in life was to not be one? "It's not easy. Few things in life ever are, which... I suppose makes us human." She's used to her fellow Avatars shedding their own humanity at a moment's notice simply because they are allowed the chance to be something greater, and in a way it is refreshing to be around someone who is just as concerned with their own humanity as she is.

@packagcdcal comming in! -> Axon: “If you give it to me, I might forget I found you.“ [ a new hope ]

"Mmhm," Cal hums doubtfully, not taking his eyes off of the modified guitar held in the other man's hands. "Yeah, sure." He can't tell exactly what modifications it has, but the guitar's obviously a weapon. Perhaps under different circumstances he'd be enthusing over the ingenuity of the design, but as it stands he knows now is not the time.

Right now, the two of them are standing in a secluded corner of a bustling marketplace, just out of sight and earshot of the other shoppers. In one hand, Cal is holding a core, a strange metal cube faintly pulsating with energy. He isn't sure what exactly it does or where it came from, having just picked it up out of curiosity, but it's clearly something important for the stranger to be demanding he hand it over.

"Look, I know how these things work," Cal says. "You get the glowy cube you want back, and I get a bullet or five in the face from your guitar for the trouble." He smiles, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Despite his hesitation and the fact that he's absolutely pushing his luck, he isn't really frightened, confident in his ability to defend himself if it comes to that, perhaps overly so. But mostly, he just doesn't want to potentially hand something dangerous to the wrong person.

His eyes flick downward to the guitar for a moment, more intrigued than nervous, then back up to the man's mask.

@packagcdcal said: Axon: just be gentle with it. (the guitar) “I’M KIND BECAUSE I CHOOSE TO BE” PROMPTS

When Ava had asked to see his guitar, she hadn't expected Axon to actually allow her to hold it. She opens her mouth, about to try and backtrack, tell him that she's perfectly content to just look at it, but swallows that hesitation back down. He's offering now, and it would be stupid of her to just say no and miss her chance. "I- Shit, hold on. I didn't expect you to actually let me hold it."

@packagcdcal comming in! -> Chum: “What are you talking about? What the hell’s going on here?“ (no braincell havin ass) 「 the last man 」

Oh, this is definitely heavier than an E-11, but not as unwieldy, I wonder if I could make it a bit lighter without compromising the barrel, reminds me of this guy I knew who was a mean karking shot with an E-5 but always said he hated using them because the grips are banthashit, but this is so much better, I bet-

Cal pauses and blinks up at Chum, his rapid-fire rambling crashing to a stop as he realizes his companion has been listening in and, seemingly, doesn't understand a word of it. Chum doesn't seem angry at him, or even really frustrated, just plain confused.

"Oh," he says intelligently, face flushing a little. "Sorry about that. I... talk to myself when I work, sometimes, but it's not anything important." Normally, he'd be bouncing his commentary off of BD-1, but his droid isn't with him right now.

For the past five minutes or so, he's been practically elbow-deep in the mechanics of the rifle in his hands, feeling it out as he figures out how to repair it. Like many well-used machines, echoes permeate every piece of it, showing him intimately how each part works in tandem with its wielders.

As such, Cal had realized right away that the rifle is nothing like any of the blasters he's used before, or any of the slug-throwers he's seen, much to his surprise and delight. It looks the same on the outside, but the actual mechanisms are completely new to him.

Hence, the rambling. As he's been examining the weapon and carefully taking it apart, he's been excitedly listing off all the little differences he notices, leading into whatever tangent comes to mind.

Any sensible person would not be doing this.

Gabe, however, is bipolar, drunk, and currently carrying a takeout bag with a breadbowl and a cup of soup to later pour in it from Panera Bread. As such, he is not sensible and instead nearly to critical mass. So here, now, fresh from the hellish line at the piece of shit chain restaurant with no intention of EATING that bread (he has a physique to maintain) and no desire to EAT that soup, he's staring out at the placid, bacteria-riddled waters of the Washington DC national mall's reflecting pool, lips curled into a sneer.

Axon promised they wouldn't be seen. Some kind of cloaking technology from his home Shard. Gabe doesn't know what the actual fuck any of that means, nor does he care, but he's got a bag full of food, a gigantic hunting knife, and a full bladder.

What could go wrong?

The answer to Chum's question was fairly obvious, although they're starting to think that he might not be nearly as observant as they had hoped him to be. With as much information as he had volunteered already, Six had thought he was trying to inform them of how this area worked, but clearly they were wrong. "I would like you to elaborate further, if you don't mind." A hand moves to rest on their temple, elbow resting on their other arm, an attempt to subtly begin recording and transmitting more information back to their ship.

That...is an absurdly specific number. Stu considers it for a moment, blinking owlishly.

"H-how do you get that many? Do you, ehm, do you hatch them, like butterflies? Or do you...buy them? From one of them garden centers, or-or Costco?" Costco seems like the kind of place you could buy wasps. From his trips in, he's learned you can get nearly anything there, so why not insects?

Prompts, prompts!

❖

❝And you ain't dying on this fucking hill today or tomorrow or any time soon.❞

Fury turned her gaze sharply to Axon, staring him down with what her namesake is; furious. More so, she didn't want anyone's death on her watch. At least, not ones she didn't do. And, in this case, she isn't responsible for this one and didn't want to go through the process of burying someone else she grew familiar with.

Lips lifted slightly in a snarl. The tip of her heel nudged Axon, pushing him to be on his feet. Rather, nudge him to do exactly that.