Slums Aren't So Scary (Ria)

Milton wasn't too familiar with the slums on the first floor of Junction. From the day he arrived around the Middle floor, Dr. Meli had kept a close eye on his whereabouts. Despite his combat capabilities, Meli had insisted that Milton stay out of the lower floors without a purpose. Even so, the biting curiosity of the foreign slums beckoned him to come, and the friendship he had bonded with a few of the citizens who lived there convinced him that the slums weren't as bad as Meli insisted. So, on this lovely quiet day, the young bot donning the appearance of a teenage human wandered down the chipped sidewalks of the slums, hoping to come across the friends he met earlier.
"Hmm... I don't see them anywhere. Seems I'll need a guide in this turn of events. Who would know the area fairly well?"

Milton's eyes locked on a... figure out of his left optical field. He couldn't place it, but something about her caught his attention. Looking at her, she didn't seem human, her face instead being a slated metal mask of sorts with glowing blue eyes. Deciding to investigate further, Milton approached the caped figure and spoke as clearly as he could.

Were Milton any more human than machine, he would more than likely return the glare he was given. Who was this person, telling him what was of worth to him or his safety? Sure, Dr. Klein was in the habit of checking up on him and making sure he stayed within his allowed parameters, but at least she knew to leave Milton to weigh his own options. Nevertheless, he remained with the same neutrally cheerful expression on his face as a message flickered into his vision, visible only for a moment to the unit opposite him as a white box popping over his iris before it immediately disappeared. Milton spoke as a gentleman should, clearly and with confidence, as he followed her down the road, glancing and memorizing the locations he visited thus far.

"There's no need to speak of me as though I am not welcome. I have acquaintances who take up shelter in this area. As for the worth of the items at said shops, I believe it is up to me to determine their worth. I consider very few things of little value, but seeing how you have no interest in speaking unnecessarily with me, I'll be straightforward. Would you like to guide me to points of interest in the area? I am more than capable of defending myself, but I do wish to learn more about you. Perhaps you'll allow me to pick your brain, Ms...?"

Milton couldn't see it from the eyes of a machine, but his brain could tell something wasn't right. Did he say something wrong again? Was he getting on this being's nerves already? True, the slums were dangerous, but he was far from helpless. Unlike Rianara's likely impression of him, Milton wasn't constructed to resemble a humanoid being at the start; he was simply a collection of upgrades and replacement parts that were initially meant to appear and function like his original limbs. It was an arm and leg to start, then another arm, another leg, his head, his chest... like replacing one plank on a ship at a time, it only resembled his flesh form because they were meant to be additions to his human body.

Before Rianara could turn to leave him alone, he found himself speaking aloud, reaching for her arm to stop her.
"I do not know what you have been through,
but I do not believe anyone should be alone... well, the commander is an iffy decision, but never mind him. You do not need to worry for my safety; I am very much capable of defending myself.

Please, at least give me a name. After that, I can leave you alone if you really don't want me around..." Milton pleaded,an earnest need to help gleaming behind his eyes.

"Just pray you don't have to go through what I did."
There it was. Another person who had gone through their own version of hell and thought that telling others that they would never wish to go through what they suffered. Milton didn't seem the sort to have suffered quite a lot, merely resembling a teenage male human, but the fact that he was more machine than organic was the testament to the life he had left behind on Orbis. He was far from naïve to the harsh nature of the universe, but the only way he would ever get through it was to live life with his head held high and his feet marching forward. But, of course, this Rianara may not have known his condition yet.

"Yes, quite. I imagine you have many interesting and heartbreaking tales to tell, but I won't prod where you are not comfortable. Takes time to get to learn a troubled soul, that's what I was taught by the doctor.

Of course I would show compassion towards you. I dislike the notion that people do not wish to learn more about them. Everyone, whether machine or flesh or any medium in between, has a story to tell through their lives and what resides in their minds. Not everyone asks when you wish they would, so I like to pick people's brains from time to time to see just the kind of variety of mental processes they have.

When Rianara mentioned having to keep up with her, Milton's body was prepared to enhance his speed by giving his skin a more sleek form as the two walked down the way. Milton's eyes darted from sign to sign and face to face as the map of the Slums started forming in his mind, noting unknown buildings and capturing the faces of unknown people, keeping Rianara's file open to add more details to it. Milton kept a close pace behind Rianara, adjusting his scarf to keep the 'label' near his neck covered.

"My name? Oh, you may call me Milton. May I ask what you occupy your time with down here, Rianara?"

As Milton had figured, the Slums were ripe with dangerous encounters and dark stories of the tragedies befalling those that call it their home. Any one person was just as likely to lie to you as the other, but the way Ria spoke and went about his request gave Milton the impression that she was one of the seemingly rare exceptions that made up a good number of Milton's friends. He still had his human wits and intuition about him, so he could tell blatantly sketchy folks from the usual law-abiding crowds. Even so, anyone attempting to trick him or cause him harm would have his blade, gun, and Phobetor to deal with. He knew the general process to an unfamiliar and sketchy place; go about your business and pay others no mind. Of course, whether he would follow it or not was up to who caught his eye...

"Very well. I understand what you mean to say. Though I do have acquaintances down in the slums that may be able to point out the familiar connections between them, I do know how to exercise caution around suspected individuals. My profession does give me a tendency to ask questions, but only if I am familiar with them on a level of trust that would allow me to say them."

"Oh? A core that can be powered unaided for 600 years at an estimation? That's a fascinating development. The labs near my house have some pretty advanced technology, so I imagine if you are willing, they would love to measure your physical capabilities. Aside form my job on the Middle Ward, I would think that, should you be physically able in combat, the planet below holds quite a variety of mysteries to investigate. I imagine you could get some good resources from the Avatars down there. What sounds interesting to you?"

Why was Milton trusting yet another stranger when, as Ria mentioned, she had not given him great reason to trust her? Milton was not one to suspect strangers of harboring ill intent towards him; after all, his track record of identifying potential friends and notable acquaintances among strangers he talked to was a resounding streak of successes. When it came to strangers, Ria didn't give him a serious reason to distrust her. She wasn't like Mr. Blackwood in the fact that they obviously didn't trust him, only that Ria didn't understand why he was so trusting. Might as well tell it to her as he considered it.

"Well, firstly, I was the one who had to approach you with discussion, and all you have done thus far is agree to follow my request. If you were to draw a weapon, I assure you it would be broken or out of your grasp before you could injure me. Secondly, who is to say I don't have a method of detecting strangers from acquaintances that have yet to be? I am an apprentice to a professional psychologist, so it is entirely possible I've been picking your brain to determine if you could prove dangerous to associate with. Either way, you currently have my trust in the sense that there is currently little reason to assume you are untrustworthy.

So, you run on a radioactive substance called aether? Well, that is rather interesting to here. On my home world, many of the advances we have made in science relies on a natural energy source known as Stream. I have found it comparable to the terms of mana found in many stories of human lore. Perhaps you're energy source would be compatible with our Stream and combining them will somehow enhance the energy source. So, are you familiar with the Mekor Gen labs on the middle ward?"

(Sorry! I could've sworn I had posted for this. Guess my post got lost in the mail)
Milton listened carefully to Ria's description of her energy source's potency and protection, picking up on her negative reaction to Milton's more confident statement on his ability to defend himself. While Milton hadn't intended it, he did at least learn that being so cocky didn't sit well with Ria. He'd have to watch his tone to make sure he didn't push her further. In an attempt to reconcile his mistake in tone and change the subject, Milton took over in the conversation.

"Oh no no, I had no doubt you were capable of defending yourself. If anything, I just wanted to reassure you that I was not defenseless. But you are correct in saying that few share such a wavelength of thought. That's why I choose to talk with people in different places in life; the more I can learn about the people in different locations, ages, and walks of life, the better I can attempt to do my assigned job. I'm no Dr. Klein, so I can't guarantee I know how far to push my questioning, but I'm good enough to get repeat visitors and pay.

As for why I bring up the labs, it's where I was... raised. It's been converted into a repair shop since it was detached from the rest of the plant. We're continuing to push our technological understanding using alien technology, so if you ever need repairs to your body or wish to contribute to research, I know the researchers there would love to learn more about your operations... and maybe then we can get Anni her wings back.

Anyways, thank you for the tour. I will head back up to the lab once we go our separate ways out of respect for your advice. But before I go, I'd like to ask a question of you to get your view on something. Say that a wooden ship, let's call it The Blume, was replaced plank by plank with new pieces of wood whenever the wood started to become too rotten until the ship is made of entirely new planks altogether. If someone were to take all of the old pieces of the ship and build a ship in the exact likeness of the original...

Which ship is The Blume?"

While Ria would have described her home world as a robotics wonderland that Milton would find absolutely breathtaking, he seemed hesitant to reply. A world where robotics was revered as a form of art, a motto of technology being the advancement to advance their craft... it was like Vel Mekor. Replace art with the motifs of a brave military, and Vel Mekor comes to mind. Milton's body was about as artistically recognized as a powerful bomb; to those who are using it to win at any cost, the destruction they would cause would be beautiful to witness. He left that world behind as Ria had for her own reasons, and he didn't plan on going back to either world.

"Yeah, our chances of returning to our home worlds are quite slim. Though in our cases, it's probably for the best. Anyways, assuming you don't take significant damages, she may very well pass on by then. The people of our planet do have a bit longer of a lifespan due to the Stream in our bodies, but without natural sources besides the generators, it won't last that long. "

When Ria seemed to perk up in curiosity as he mentioned Anni, his eyes seemed to spark with energy as he talked about her.

"Yeah, Anni! She's a childhood friend from home who's... in the same situation as me. Where I come from, Stream is actually used to infuse certain people with aspects of animals, sort of splicing their genetics with the stronger genetic benefits from the animals. Anni's mom was half avian, so she's got more hollow arms and legs than normal. Unfortunately, due to circumstances, her replacement arms weren't prepared for her condition, so we're working on fixing them so that she can glide again."

However, as Milton heard her response to his question, he unintentionally groaned under his breath. No matter who he asked, nobody would give him a straight answer. Even worse, she said it was irrelevant to her. But if it were up to the crew, maybe it meant it was up to him to decide what he was. With that, Milton waved her off and made his way back to the Middle Ward.

"It's irrelevant to her...? Guess that's expected of other people. If anyone's going to care about my condition, it might be all too late. At least I impacted her in some way. 'til next time, Ria."

[EXIT]