Welcome to Gaia! ::

The corrupted was laying on bunk, back flat with legs in the air in and a pillow being foot juggled in a motion like riding a bicycle. When name came at decibel, Haüyne halted like a startled deer. The pillow landed on the soles of the boots, then melted off with the full of gravity and poufed onto the floor beside.

I know this voice? That's me. Yes, I know this voice. Pyrophanite, the one from before. Dudechicks. Lips split into a toothsome grin and the super senshi popped up to standing like a puppet pulled to life by invisible strings, sudden and complete. Then trotted, striding wide to the door to the common barracks. "Haaaaaaaay. What's up, Murderbus? You got some good news for me? Found some time?"

The senshi of execution grinned wide, bouncing up on toes from heels. "You should tell me all about what you've been up to. Mine is mostly training and briefing. Or tests on rosters. I'll take us up."

Whether Pyro could or could not make it to Negaspace on his own was a matter Haüyne hadn't sifted out clearly yet in the list of duties of each of the given ranks. Expectations felt stifling, as did the idea of giving orders or taking them from any general on the street. Execution seemed like something, or memory slowly sifting out to make sense lent to believe, for private courtyards or controlled, mass displays of authority. I'm meant to execute the enemies of the Queen... the Queen....we follow queen Metallia.

A quick clasp of the Lieutenant's hand and they stood on a drive through Fifth-Third roof, a few blocks from one of the shopping districts full of box stores, extended stay hotels, and fast food. Haüyne threw arms wide in an exaggerated inhale, "AIR!"

"Into the wimminzfolk, eh? That all sounds like a crazy weird time. Definitely not boring. " Haüyne said it while executing a series of three front walkovers along the ledge of the roof. But another blackstar, huh? I haven't ...no I haven't met any of them. There's supposed to be at least a handful knockin around in these walls though, right? Castellaz. That's cool sounding callsign.

"Don't you know it! " Came emphatic agreement as soon as the corrupted was properly vertical again. "I used to bank here a lot, so it's one of the few places that's stuck in mind...but balls if I remember a whole lot as far as a good place to bag and actual stick you could get a few swings in with on someone on the free. Let's get you a beating stick though, and then get right down to hunting, yeah? And you got the know of the roads? "

"An actual bat would be great, but really anyplace like a house improvement depot with those side yards where we could nab you a 2x4 or something would work. Or a table leg. or hey, you could be like the WWF and use a folding chair, even if they're really only good for one smack. It'd be funny, right? Just need to daze them long enough and then!"

" Pop goes their head." Haüyne made pantomime of picking a blooming dandelion, putting thumb underneath the blossom, and, at the word "head", gave the imaginary flower head a flip so that off it would launch. "Know where the closest place like that is to here? Let's book it."

And hopped down from rooftop to the city sidewalk below.

Memories remaining of Jack's life experience didn't point towards any internal, known league system by which someone, like a chocobo, should know if they were c, b, a, s, or ss class racing for or trying to breed to some other. Or how those systems meant one was or wasn't allowed to approach another based on it. How did Bus know they were out of his league? What was his league? Was it tattooed on his neck? Somewhere more private? Was it told him by Castellaz and 'Serp'? It seemed like something that would be a judgey, uncomfortable sort of conversation where he might start trying to pigeon hole everything into male or female and breeding availability. Or, given human propensities, if not specifically breeding, then sexual attractiveness and availability. Haüyne filed it away in case it was ever further important that Bus liked women, but wasn't about to pursue that further than it had reached.

The pipe was a vast improvement over a toy vehicle. Granted, a toy car could be used as much as anything else as long as the wielder tried hard and believed in themselves, but a pipe was faster. The corrupted quirked at the hand and statement, then laughed, "I'm the Executioner, right? For my Queen. Bodies are gross all strung out or smashed, but that's the business. I think...I think I remember reading? watching? Something... it's supposed to get easier after the first one. "

Then it was following, chasing back and forth a little on the way to a store that he knew. "The name's kinda familiar....sure, we'll find all kinds of stuff. Or people. Or people and stuff. We'll make it work. "

It was ridiculous how memory refused to coalesce more than a vague sense of familiarity. How anyone was ever to forget a personal experience with a looming blue and yellow monstrosity with letters the size of three people proclaiming: IKEA? The under-title, Home furnishings, hinted that it must have been dorm and college necessities that had drawn the previous life near and inside.

"It all looks enclosed, though...not like an outside yard in chain link... This parking lot is massive. Do they fit that many people in there? Huh...It can't be too hard to get- A ROLLEY CART. " The super senshi didn't slow down, but made straight for a cart return, whipped out the outermost device and was rolling rapidly towards the store balanced on the handles and whooping as soon as senshi-ly possible.

Yeah, I guess it would suck for them to just be doing their job and get Dead for it. Sure, they're cool. Just nap-time.

The decision tree for security operations at a Privately Owned Location was simple, demanding the guard hit their talkie to notify the other on-duty guard indoors that there was an incident occurring outside with what looked like rowdy teens, one possibly armed with what looked like a piece of something. Step two was to unhook their taser and keep their hand on it while approaching the two. Step three was calling out firmly a warning: "Hey! This is private property and store hours are 10:00 AM – 9:00 PM every day of the week. Please stop what you are doing, put your hands in the air, and exit the premises!"

The corrupted senshi laughed all the more, and the cart smacked into the facing brick wall with a crash. Physics threw the blue and red senshi forward, but free-running practice in the halls of the dark kingdom had honed skills far enough to lift boots in time to use the momentum to spring back off the wall in a flip. " ' Maniac is imminent. Request advice! ' "

Haüyne shouted it back, brazen, to the guard while looking grinningly at Bus, "With a firm tone of voice, demand maniac lie down with hands behind back!"

A laugh and the jangle and enough patience for trying three of the keys on the door, and Haüyne bounced lightly the whole while. The third key, thankfully, turned, and the double-auto doors could be manually slid open. The corrupted didn't bother to turn on the entry sensors, or even to close the doors behind them. They were greeted by a foyer with an elevator and stairs, so the 'store' was apparently on some second floor. The ledge/balcony of glass dividers with a handrail was visible above. Haüyne just jumped up, since chaos powered them to make the distance without breaking a sweat.

"There's little rooms! Like...fake living rooms. Man, you could overnight here pretty plush except none of the electro work, right? " Electronic stuff.....yeah...I remember that. I used...I used to have a laptop. Music. oh. A pang and Haüyne's usual ear-to-ear grin faded. There were flashes that came back of comfortable blanket hugs and pillows, headphones, making playlists, and belting out songs from stages with others ...where music was the one thing that wasn't awkward, didn't require pigeon holes into a category, and it wasn't alone. Not unless it was wanted to be alone. People would sing with Jack. I don't have any music anymore. I ...Shale that a*****e hasn't called in like ever, even other than having the worst bedside manner in the universe. I don't even have classes at the university. I just have ...this guy. Bus.

"Do you know if they sell music stuff?"

Haüyne lifted a hand to put overtop Pyro's that was already on shoulder, enjoying the moment of solidarity and support for a breath before heaving a deep, exaggerated sigh, "The got catalogs there with the bags, right? Yeah....we can look. "

A step or two brought the catalog in reach to peruse the departments. The corrupted spoke while paging, "I like ...I like all music I think. I mean, there's some better than others, and anything that I can sing and dance to is really high up on my list. I used to sing and dance. I remember being on stage. Not like the main attraction, or anything. I remember telling jokes, getting people to laugh, maybe a funny number here or there. MC. That was what it was called. Master of Ceremonies. It was always at night. I think it was vaudeville kinda stuff. "

Living room (Sofas & armchairs,TV & media furniture, TV brackets, Living room storage, Coffee & side tables, Living room lighting, Living room textiles & rugs), Bedroom (Beds & Mattresses, Wardrobes & Bedroom storage, Lighting, Bedding, textiles & rugs, Mirrors ), of which neither heading nor subheading spoke to the sort of electronics that involved music. The other larger categories didn't promise much either: Bathroom, Kitchen & Appliances, Textiles & Rugs. "It doesn't look like they have music stuff. But hey, if you could work on some playlists, I can work on getting something to play it. I mean, there's those stores that sell everything and have offbrand stuff. Like Sandisk or something that aren't hundreds of bucks. "

The catalog was tossed over onto one of the display couches, and Haüyne took Pyro's hand to start trotting along through the aisles, smile starting to return as speed increased, "C'Mon! Let's find stuff."

"Smacky things, right? Uhhh......kitchenwares?"