#intelite 01

[cabaretconnoisseur]

@intelite liked for a starter //

He likes fast cars and curry. Well, to be more accurate he enjoys classic cars. And this thing was on the far end of the opposite side of the spectrum. But he could still appreciate it. In the absence of one, there was the presence of the other, and he had to hand it to whoever drove this aerodynamic thing- it was pretty sick.

He'd spotted the vehicle now and again whenever he checked his mailbox, which was always empty. That made sense. Who was writing him in some city full of strangers? But never had he run into the neighbor. It wasn't always parked in the same spot, so surely someone drove that great hunk of metal. Whoever it is, they probably someone who pulls massive babes. Lucky bastard.

Or maybe an unlucky bastard? While he was busy shuffling through his nonexistent stack of mail, he spotted an air valves lying on the asphalt, no doubt slowly leaking air out of the tire. Since he was such a good samaritan, he may as well screw it back on. It was simple enough, though he felt a little bit bad about touching something that wasn't his. But all in the name of good intention, right?

"Ah. The only problem is, how do I tell whoever drives you to check the tire pressure?"

[daxned]

@intelite​

She’s heard of NO-EC through this device in which people called...cellphone. According to some of the people, it was short for a cellular device. Strange. Regardless, that’s how she ends up at the building. It’s overwhelming, just like the rest of Isola. She isn’t exactly sure what she’s looking for, but maybe learning more about this place will be a start. 

She slowly comes to a stop. She nearly just walks right by this giant robotic being thinking that it was a strange statue. When the robot moves, she looks up at them. 

The Sapling seems relatively curious about this giant....WHAT is it?

[sxnburst]

@intelite​

He’s seen a lot of vehicles. Even ones that looked super fancy, but this? Sun hasn’t seen ANYTHING like this before. He’s never sensed anything strange from any of those moving cars before either. Sun is curious, but he’s hesitant as he approaches with caution. A hand is placed on the sleek blueish vehicle. 

“!!” Eyes widens and his tail curls around as the Monkey man scurries back, knuckles back onto concrete as golden eyes are locked on the unmoving vehicle. 

“What....are you?” 

[tremorstep]

@intelite​

Well, this was an absolute mistake.  Toph had been curious to check out whatever noisy festival event had apparently been going on in the ward she was living in, only to find it was...just about what she expected.  Noisy, and with LOTS of people in it too.  She couldn’t pick anyone specific out of the crowd from this distance, largely because the giant boxes in the corners blasted out music that sent vibrations through the ground strong enough to muddle everything up for her.

“It’s too loud!  How is anyone supposed to see in here?!” Toph mused aloud through gritted teeth, hands placed firmly over her sensitive ears.  She just decided to wade her way through the place to see what may be on the other side, only to grip her elbow in pain as she bumped into someone else.  “Sorry, I-...”  She stopped.  From the feeling and the clanging noise...that wasn’t a person at all.  “Am talking to a hunk of metal...”  A large, relatively person-shaped, complex hunk of metal, from what she could tell from the impact, but still just the same to her.  It wasn’t anything to be concerned about, she thought as she started to walk away.

[sterrenlied]

🎶 | @INTELITE // STARTER CALL

✧*:･ﾟ| A dance, long legs elegant, not touching the surface of the surface of the rink and yet, he creates a string of lights which trail behind like a comet's tail. And with the darkness that contrasted with the rink's lights, it comes across as little surprise that he's so engaged in the colours themselves. A BRILLIANCE that overwhelms the starlight in his own pale eyes. He skates -- one, two, three loops around, eloquent in his mannerisms as much as his speech. And then comes to a halt in front of a machine - or man? certainly looks more CAPABLE than a simple robot. He bows lightly, bouncing back with a smile upon his lips and a wave of the hand. ❝Do you want to try?❞

[eternalrecurrxnce]

“-- I suppose I was staring. I apologize. Though, if you don’t mind my saying..”

“This island has opened my eyes to things I’ve not once ever been able to imagine, yet I’ve still never seen anything like you before.” And though his life was still incredibly short-lived compared to other half-elves, Richter had seen quite a few unusual things while on Aselia-- especially in the last two years. Demons, Summon Spirits, Centurions-- beings he once spoke of only in theory with Aster at the academy, pouring over books in the middle of the night that told of their legends and histories. And while his world bore technology that seemed advanced compared to some of the things here, what stood before him truly was unlike anything he ever thought possible; towering over him as he strained his neck upwards to meet his eyes. 

“Were you made for a specific purpose..? Or do other beings exist such as yourself?”

                                                                         –   ☼☽;   ( @intelite​​​ )    

[splicermisraaks]

@intelite​

The long stare is likely obvious to anyone, even with his face covered, although he cannot help it. Eliksni have been around machinery for all their lives. Misraaks finds himself fascinated by the current target of focus. Where did it come from? Can it speak? If so, what languages does it know? The Kell moves closer to inspect the being better. “You are a unique kind, one I have never seen before. That must mean you come from another world, yes?” His head tilts, carefully considering how to continue. “There is no reason to assume you are incapable of understanding. Many machines I’ve met are of high intelligence, I believe you are also. I am Misraaks.” One hand raises in greeting to avoid offending. “Perhaps an alliance would be suitable, should you wish for it.”

[wovensentinel]

Oh, he talks fast. What a... charming quirk.

"He hasn't said anything specifically," she tells him. "Just that there would be someone new staying here. I wasn't even aware you were, ah–" Where is Rung from? Has he even ever told her? She doesn't think he has... "–a mechanical lifeform, like Rung, until now.

"I... wasn't aware the Stars did that," she admits, "but I wouldn't put it past them. They've given me my fair share of... inconveniences during my time here so far." Inconveniences being the lightest way to put it.

He moves towards her, silently asking to leave, but Hornet doesn't budge. "I was assigned a house here, yes. But I find it unnecessary. I spend most of my time outdoors. I don't live here. I visit, occasionally. Rung doesn't mind, and I make no mark on the house itself. I expect you'll be here indefinitely, though?"

She sighs. These questions are getting tiring. "I've been here quite long enough," she says. "I don't see why it matters to you, though. You're quite entitled for a guest. Did you and Rung know each other previously, or are you like this with every new stranger you meet?"

wovensentinel​:

Rung had warned Hornet there’d be a new person in the house, which she’d taken well externally, but was actually quite annoyed about. She knows she isn’t exactly a resident of the building herself, but she’s spent enough time dodging Rung’s roommates. Even if he insists they won’t mind her company, she knows she’s still technically an intruder. This isn’t her space. She’d rather be a silent, unseen effect on the house. She puts things back where they are after she’s used them– or better yet, tries to avoid using them at all. She always places her needle in the same corner where she knows it won’t disrupt anything. She even makes sure the couch cushions and pillows are left the way she’s found them when she leaves at night. She makes it a point to be perfectly undetectable.

Which is decidedly not what this new roommate feels like doing. She catches him in Rung’s room, expecting to find the same face she’s used to there, and instead meeting this new mechanical being that’s touching her friend’s things.

“…Hello,” she says back to him, watching him put down the model. “You must be the new person Rung’s told me about.” Rung’s evidently told him about her, too. She doesn’t like something about Blurr, though she can’t quite put her finger on it. The way he’d put down the model ship… It’s clear he knows he was caught, but he didn’t act embarrassed about being caught with something so silly like anyone else would. And if model ships are something he’s used to messing with, there’d be no use in reacting that way when being caught in the first place. Something doesn’t settle right with her… but she’s not about to go interrogating him two seconds after meeting him, either. Rung’s invited him to stay with him, and she trusts Rung’s judgement.

But she also knows he can be naive.

“So are you new to Spirale? Forgive me for my curiosity, but Rung hadn’t told me exactly why you’ll be staying here. The Stars do provide everyone with a house, you know…”

“He’stoldyouaboutmewhatdidhesay?”

Oh, the name’s “Rung.” Blurr had been close. Rung had described Hornet as a close friend; that means she’ll be a good source of information. It’s just a matter of making sure that information flows his way instead of back to Rung.

Blurr isn’t a manipulator. He’s not like Shockwave, not like Decepticon intelligence officers– he doesn’t plan to trick this little creature or turn her against her friend. He just wants to know whether he has reason to be suspicious, and as her accounts are likely to be marginally more trustworthy than anything Rung says himself, he hopes she’ll be willing to talk.

“Yes,” he says because there’s no reason to pretend otherwise. “And for your information, they do not! I was told I would be staying outside upon arrival, so unless ‘Outside’ is the name of a housing unit, I have been provided with nothing!”

He steps forward, silently motioning for her to step back and let him into the wider expanse of the livingroom. If he can’t investigate Rung’s room in peace, he doesn’t want to remain in the cramped quarters any longer. …the rest of the floor isn’t much better, but at least he’ll have a little room to walk. …or run, if this creature turns out to be stronger and more volatile than she looks.

“Icouldaskyouthesamethingactuallyassumingyouhaveahouseofyourown which I do assume since you were unaware that it is possible not to have one in the city. Why do you spend so much time here Imean‘Rung’nevermentionedbeinggonesomedays to go visit you at your residence which one would otherwise expect, he only told me you’dbecominghere.” 

Blurr pauses, perhaps to give her time to respond, and perhaps just to lean down to get a closer look at her face. There’s something almost familiar about it. Is it a mask like that of his one-time pottery partner?

“How long have you been in Spirale? Ifyoudon’tmindansweringyourownquestion.”

[homunculusrune]

➳ I Hope Nobody Thinks I Just Killed This Dude

@intelite​

His first impression of this place is it’s kind of huge. The Island was vast, certainly, but when self-sealing gates aspire to make the labyrinthine far more straightforwards- all of those branches ended up taking him to the same final destination.

All things said, it’s really starting to stress him out- this colorful crowd of people, none of them infected- he’s flinchy every time a new shape moves in the corner of his eye. It’s driven him further and further from occupied streets, into shady, run-down parts of town that probably tell him he should really turn back- but at the same time, this is at least something he knows how to handle.

He pauses, backtracks, looks at something that is... definitely a body. Not merely passed out, but decisively dead, and fairly fresh. Scanning for any sort of assailant proves futile, and this motivates him to cautious approach, before shifting his attention to the body in question.

Middle-aged. Little bit of stubble. Whatever’d gotten him- ranged weapon, Prisoner was guessing- it’d done its work fast. Touching the body, his skin is cold.

...Guess not everybody can be lucky, even in a place like this, huh?

As it happens, though, it doesn’t look like whoever killed him went through his pockets. No purse or wallet, discernibly- had he heard something about ‘digital’ currency?- but a small keyring, that was interesting- a rough-scribbled note...

Just as he was unfolding it to read its contents, a shadow fell across the alley.

A shadow belonging to some kind of metallic being nearly the size of the Hand of the King.

Prisoner scrambled to his feet, a hand going to a useless piece of wood that wasn’t going to do any good.

Walls on three sides-

Only way to go was up.

Straight up the wall, that was.

[errantkatana]

@intelite

This is a frustrating situation. Something, some sort of metal robot thing, keeps speeding past him. Roller skates were one thing (he’s not even sure why he’s trying this.) and finding the right song on his walkman was another. (It needs to suit the setting, damnit!!) It took him longer than he wanted to get used to the rollerskates. Now he’s almost getting run over by what may just be an intentional obstacle on this road. 

Taking a moment to put away his earbuds, he scowls, waiting for it to pass again. Gaining momentum with merciless eyes, he eventually turns around with the speed taking him backwards. 

Steady and focused, when he sees it coming he draws his wooden sword and attempts to strike it as it passes again. 

[abyssalhowl]

Running with @intelite​

Sif had found something... interesting. Definitely not something she had encountered in the old world. When she had first approached it, she thought that maybe it was someone wearing a suit of armor, like one of the Silver Knights that guarded Anor Londo, but she couldn’t smell anything organic inside.

Her second guess was a statue. On two legs, it stood as tall as she did on four, so it was about the right height and shape to be one... But that wasn’t quite right either. While it did largely contain the scent of metals, she could smell other components as well, ones that were fairly new to her. In fact, it had a similar aroma to one of the metal creatures that traveled on the black roads of the city and harassed her with their loud cries.

Just when she moved closer still to give it a more thorough sniffing, it moved.

After giving a very undignified yelp, she leapt backwards. Keeping her distance, she let out a few alarmed barks at whatever it was, more shocked than anything else.

[aid-lombard]

@intelite

For the most part, Saint-Germain preferred not to get involved with “scenes.” Much of the time, they were simply petty interpersonal squabbles between two people who knew each other--at others, she knew her presence would only make things far, far worse. As much as she held justice strongly in her heart, she knew that for a very long time, she had played the role of a villain. Others could take her place, and she wouldn’t mind. She could atone for her sins in one way or another, surely.

However, it seemed as if more often than not, this city was full of suspicious and dangerous things happening without any sort of “official” response. She didn’t even know if there was a government, quite frankly, and while that was something to worry about later, there were more important things to worry about in the now. As she watched an older man beg for help and get no response, she sighed, and decided to take the step herself.

“Are you alright, sir?”

“My bag--some punk kids stole my bag! It has--”

“Please, just tell me what they look like, and I will assist you.”

One description of shady teenagers later, and Saint-Germain set off, looking for anyone who fit the profile. It didn’t take long to realize that there were, in fact, two teenagers darting down the streets, causing all sorts of ruckus, a bag that clearly didn’t belong to them flailing about in one hand. She sighed, flourished her hand, and lifting off the ground, burst forward after them.

[aurelsabre]

starter - @intelite​

As Narberal was just returned in this place for not bothering to count how many times, she was dwelling around until a living machine might have wanting her attention. Normally hostile to humans, she will let this one go since he is a talking machine.

From where she was, Archimedes at Savior’s Respite that is not too close at the guild den. Adventurer habits? Obviously.

“If you are asking me to join that one over there, you’re mistaken.” Her allegiance is always at Ainz Ooal Gown and nothing else.

[cabaretconnoisseur]

intelite​:

Blurr is curious at first when the organic breaks his routine of coming out to the street, checking his (perpetually empty) mailbox, and returning indoors. The mech is disciplined, experienced– he remains still even as the man approaches him directly, and even as his curiosity curdles into something closer to apprehension when he feels the dull sensation of a warm, fleshy hand graze his tire.

Blurr isn’t organophobic– no good field agent is– but he hasn’t been touched in alt like this since his embarrassing stint as an unwilling accomplice to one of Detroit’s many eccentric small time criminals. He could handle it under normal circumstances. Getting piloted around like a Primus-forsaken remote controlled toy had been unpleasant and frustrating, but it had hardly been the worst thing to have ever happened to him on a mission. But the brush of those fingers brings back too-sharp memories of being stuck as a prisoner in his own plating, and that brings back memories of being immobile and compact, and suddenly he’s feeling cornered and squeezed and trapped and–

Not a second after the man finishes speaking, the car’s engine revs as it shoots backwards and out of range. Blurr’s transforming before he can even skid to a halt, his plating rattling as he shakes out his tire where he can still feel the ghost of that touch.

“Do you normally make it a habit to stick your olfactory sensor into situations that don’t concern you?” he says, his voice sharp and accusatory.

He knows that’s not fair. This guy was just trying to help, and it’s not his fault that Blurr can’t keep it together.

The icy glare of his optics softens, and a rare expression of remorse flashes across his features. The agent doesn’t often make mistakes, but he’s not too proud to admit it when he does.

“…sorry. I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. Worsethanuncalledforactuallysinceyoudidn’tdoanythingexcepthelpme but don’t worry I’ll check the pressure I shouldn’t have let it get that way in the first place but now that I did let it get that way I have you to thank for stopping it from getting any worse and so really I ought to be repaying you not getting irritable you just s-surprised me which is pretty difficult to accomplish as a matter of fact or at least it used to be before I got so jittery!”

He’s frustrated with his own ridiculous response to what should have been a perfectly forgettable interaction. The best he can do now is calm down, remind himself he’s in full control of his frame, and patch things up with his neighbor.

“I apologize again. Thank you for your help. I– I mean that!”

Fuck, what the fuck. 

Eloquent, well versed, a loquacious string of words that really got a hold of his train of thought. Sure he was a little spooked when the engine revved, but he really thought he was going to die when the vehicle shot back and looked like it was imploding. Maybe that would have been better than having to stare slack jawed at the towering bipedal robot. 

While he was trying to keep his pulse from hammering so hard that his head felt like it was ringing, he caught bits and pieces of a level of nagging he hadn’t been on the receiving end of since he accidentally called one hostess by another’s name. A mess that was. 

At least one thing was constant; something about robots and talking down to him. This one had none of the diminutive size Aiba had, but it certainly had a tongue that whipped like steel. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he closed his eye, then peeked back up. 

It’s still there. 

“I’m hallucinating,” Date finally decided. Wait did that thing just look sorry? No that’s impossible. Well no, it was possible. AI-balls existed. So why wouldn’t shapeshifting robots? Closing his eye again, he tried to unscramble to flurry of words shooting out at at least 200 WPM, thanking the higher forces for the practice he’s had listening to Ryuki’s apologies to decipher words like worse, uncalled for, help, surprise and, wait did he just stutter. Do robots do that? 

“I really need Aiba back to medicate me again..” 

Tuning back in to listen, really listen to what the car, robot, neighbor- had to say, he shut his mouth. If a question mark had a sound, it was whatever noise that was escaping his throat right now, truly at a loss for words. 

Finally finding his voice again, he opened his mouth, shut it again then turned around. Lightly tapping his temple with his fist, he wished he could feel the mild electrocution Aiba dealt on occasion, if only to restart his brain. Looking over his shoulder, he sighed. 

It’s still there... 

“Uh, no problem. Sorry for. Upsetting you? And thanks for not killing me. I guess.” 

[wovensentinel]

Rung had warned Hornet there'd be a new person in the house, which she'd taken well externally, but was actually quite annoyed about. She knows she isn't exactly a resident of the building herself, but she's spent enough time dodging Rung's roommates. Even if he insists they won't mind her company, she knows she's still technically an intruder. This isn't her space. She'd rather be a silent, unseen effect on the house. She puts things back where they are after she's used them– or better yet, tries to avoid using them at all. She always places her needle in the same corner where she knows it won't disrupt anything. She even makes sure the couch cushions and pillows are left the way she's found them when she leaves at night. She makes it a point to be perfectly undetectable.

Which is decidedly not what this new roommate feels like doing. She catches him in Rung's room, expecting to find the same face she's used to there, and instead meeting this new mechanical being that's touching her friend's things.

"...Hello," she says back to him, watching him put down the model. "You must be the new person Rung's told me about." Rung's evidently told him about her, too. She doesn't like something about Blurr, though she can't quite put her finger on it. The way he'd put down the model ship... It's clear he knows he was caught, but he didn't act embarrassed about being caught with something so silly like anyone else would. And if model ships are something he's used to messing with, there'd be no use in reacting that way when being caught in the first place. Something doesn't settle right with her... but she's not about to go interrogating him two seconds after meeting him, either. Rung's invited him to stay with him, and she trusts Rung's judgement.

But she also knows he can be naive.

"So are you new to Spirale? Forgive me for my curiosity, but Rung hadn't told me exactly why you'll be staying here. The Stars do provide everyone with a house, you know..."

He still doesn’t quite believe that there’s another Autobot in this Primus-forsaken city. The little therapist is Cybertronian, there’s no doubt about that, but Blurr has yet to be convinced that he’s Autobot. The mech– Ring, he’s pretty sure– is oh so unassuming, so understanding, yet he wasn’t wearing his badge when they first met and he’s neglected to prove that he has one even now.

There’s his whole “multiple universes” speech, too. It’s not impossible, but it also seems like an easy excuse to be used on the off-chance that Ring needs to explain away the sort of informational slip-up an amateur spy might make when thrust unexpectedly under cover.

Blurr doesn’t trust him, and that’s half the reason he’s here.

…the other half is the fact that, cramped or no, sharing quarters with another Cybertronian is preferable to spending months in root-mode on the streets.

Blurr’s been left to his own devices to give him a chance to “make himself at home” while Ring– no, he remembers now, it’s Rang, isn’t it?– acquires double portions of fuel from some shop on the other side of the Ward.

Plenty of time for a quick, untraceable search through the therapist’s belongings, except he’s somehow managed to get caught. He really must be slowing down.

“…hello.” Blurr says to the little organic standing just outside Rang’s doorway.

“You’re Hornet, right?” His host had mentioned she might stop by from time to time. Blurr sets down the little model spaceship he had been scanning, feigning innocent, casual interest in the toy, and turns to face her fully.

“I’m Blurr. It seems we’ll be staying together for a while.”

@wovensentinel​ !