What could POSSIBLY go wrong? [HABIT/Dale]

Dale was having a good day.
The chameleon man several alleys away was having a decidedly more miserable one after having had his retrievals from the ration bar stockpile he found taken again, but in a place like the slums, it was his fault for not being aware of the android preparing to knock him out for the second time.
Really, you'd think they'd learn at least a little after the first time.

Currently, he sat on what appeared to be a gigantic, overturned teacup, enjoying some of the spoils that only muggings and general larceny had thus far been able to provide. Unlike his usual energetic self, Chip merely lounged nearby, lights out as he appeared to sleep.
It was a bad idea to stay where he was for too long, but for now...he had food to eat now, a place to eat it, and more for later.
It was far more than he could normally ever ask for.

Dale's peaceful meal would soon be intruded upon by a particularly handsome guest. The man would continue on his path past Dale seemingly oblivious to the machine that undoubtedly watched him with a confused and suspicious eye. Assumeing Dale hid, did nothing, or at the very least did not attempt to gain the attention of the masked man as he passed by, he would simply continue on his way until he was juuuust about out of earshot. At which point he would stop and turn towards where ever Dale was hiding, sitting, standing, or what have you. Frankly he could be tap dancing for all HABIT cared. All that mattered was that the two glassy red eyes on HABIT's mask pointed directly at Dale.

HEY... HOWS IT GOIN? YOU SPEND A LOT OF TIME SITTING IN FILTH OR ARE 4 DAYS SPECIAL? I MEAN IF SITTING IN SHIT IS YOUR THING MORE POWER TO YA, IT'S JUST A TAD BIT WEIRD TO ME. HABIT would wait for a response patiently... but not to patiently.

As he heard the man, Dale stopped eating and shifted so he was laid flat, hidden by height and the ridge at the bottom of the teacup. Slowly, his head peeked over, watching the new arrival to the area, wondering just what was on his head.
It was not a good feeling when they turned to easily to stare at him.
As much as he wanted to hide, there wasn't exactly much point. They knew he was here. At the very least, they were only talking for now...that meant anything that was going to happen wasn't happening yet.
Dale nudges Chip with his foot to get him alert as his paranoid sensitivity to the world around him is converted to a constant gauging of the area. The entire time as he looks about, he doesn't rise to stand above the lip, and keeps a distinct section of his focus on the junc-son. "I...don't understand what you mean."

SKITTISH FELLA AINT YA? THAT'S GATTA GET REALLY DULL REALLY FAST HUH? HABIT cracked his neck once and kept his eyes on Dale's location as he walked towards the overturned tea cup. His walk was slow and deliberate, each footfall deliberate and careful as if he were approaching a scared cat or some sort of small puppy with a broken leg. He found a particularly dusty hunk of rusted broken down space ship to plant himself on with an uncomfortable sigh. You can always count on the slums to have what you might need at the moment you need it. Be it a hunk of cutting edge tech that just so happened to be the proper size to serve as a stool, or a skittish Seeker that could prove to be a fun little chat. More often then not it's the later then the former but neither are rare.

I MEAN, WHY ARE YOU SITTING IN THE GARBAGE DOWN HERE? I MEAN BESIDES THE HUMONGOUS WAGE GAP IN JUNCTION, AND THE FACT THAT DESPITE THE "ONE MONTH FREE LODGING" THAT THEY HAND OUT IN MIDDLE WARD OVER HALF THE NEWCOMER POPULATION END UP BACK DOWN HERE ANYWAY... HUH... I GUESS IT WAS A STUPID QUESTION AFTER ALL. HABIT sat for a moment in silence and contemplated the truly cynical tower he lived in...

...still, Dale didn't understand what this person was on about. Oh, sure, he could pick up that, for example, 'skittish' described some aspect of his behaviour. What exactly it was he didn't know, but he could find that out later. Maybe guess if he had a little more to narrow it down.

The rest though, he wasn't sure of. Like...what was a wage gap? Actually, no, bad first question - what was a wage? Kind of hard to figure out what a wage gap was when you didn't know what a wage was.
"...not sure what a wage is for there to be a big gap in it, but...I just live here? Not this bit specifically, but this place in general. Not the best, but better than before. Yeah." As he finishes, a memory that was filed away rises to the surface. An old conversation, one he had to refer to for something he said. "...a month? They said...'upwards of one standard year'. Is a 'standard year' only a month, not a year? That's...that's weird. Kind of dumb."

WHOA WHAT? IT'S GONE UP TO A FULL YEAR? DANG, MAYBE THINGS AREN'T AS BAD AS I LAST CHECKED. HUH... IT HAS BEEN A LONG TIME. HABIT shook his head and sighed, how long had he been down there? Last time he was up topside the stipend was only a month... Though to be fair the last time he had been topside the commercial district was just starting construction. So much had changed. Heck maybe there wasn't even that much of a wage gap anymore, and there was no way of knowing. Not like HABIT made it a point to talk to folks about current events, it was normally just a quick spooky word here or there and he was off...huh.

YOU'RE A FIRST FLOORER HUH? I GET THAT, LOT SIMPLER DOWN HERE THEN UP IN THE HIGHER WORDS... SO HOW'D YOU END UP DOWN HERE PAL?

"Oh. It changed." That made more sense to him than the junc-sons calling months years. A lot better for him, too. If he had had to re-learn what time was for this place just to understand things...that would have been a problem, to say the least.
Thing was, if it changed...when did that happen? They said a long time, but "How long ago was that?"

First Floor? He definitely meant this place, though he hadn't heard it called that before. And...he couldn't help but agree with him. Even if this place was different, it made a lot more sense then the places higher up. There was all sorts there that he just didn't get. So much to watch for and worry about.
This was easier.
"I was just...here. Always here, ever since I got to Junction. Things are different, but not as different as higher up. Mostly better than before, at least."

SHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO UH... HMM... LIKE HALF A MEGAANUS AGO? PROBABLY? FRANKLY IT'S REALLY... REALLY HARD TO TELL WHEN THINGS GET THAT OLD. IT'S LIKE TRYING TO KEEP TRACK OF SECONDS USING A TWENTY YEAR CALENDAR. HABIT tried his best to remember the last time he was top side, before all this weird seeker bull crap started, but frankly the harder he thought about it the more his head hurt. Junction changed so quickly in a superficial sense that it was hard to keep track of who's who or where things are from a day to day basis much less an epoch at a time, but at it's core it was still the giant fucken enigma it had always been. Unlike every other time in his life, however, that may be close to changing.

OH, YOU'RE ONE OF THOSE 'DON'T REMEMBER ANYTHING BEFORE THE CITY' TYPES HUH... YEAH YOU LOT TEND TO END UP JUST WONDERING THE SLUMS UNTIL YOU ETHER FIND PURPOSE AND YOUR PAST, SPOILER ALERT THAT HAPPENS IN LIKE ONE OUT OF EVERY TWO HUNDRED, OR YOU END UP GETTING TRAPPED OR CRUSHED BY A JUMP PLOPPING IN A SKYSCRAPER IN YOUR LIVING ROOM. THOUGH, YOUR BEFORE MUST HAVE BEEN PRETTY SHITTY IF THIS IS AN IMPROVEMENT.

A...megaanus? He...hadn't heard that one before. He didn't know how long that was, but from the sounds of it...really, really long. He didn't exactly know what a calendar was, but-


...well that explained how he kept track of time so easily back then. Or...how he knew what time it was so easily in general.
It was weird...now he knew about it, it was like he could just think and see the numbers ticking...yes, ticking by in his head. Days, hours, minutes, seconds, numbers that just got bigger and bigger as time passed and he focused on that happening.
Checking the calendar, just focusing on that...no, the junc-son was right, you couldn't really keep track of seconds with just this. It covered times so much bigger than what you were looking at.
...how much bigger was a megaanus if you couldn't track days, or months, or years? How many ways to look at time bigger than that were there, and how many of them did he have a hard time remembering how many had gone by?
...how..."How long is that...? What kind of Junc-son are you to live that long?"

As Chip found a spot to peer over the lip with Dale, the android shook his head. "No...I remember. Before. Wouldn't know this was better if I didn't know what it was better than." Shitty...that sounded like a way of saying something was bad. Which...put a lot of the things he'd heard before in perspective. Still, he'd remember that. "I just got here when I left where I was from. I...don't know how. How it worked, why I got here. But I got out, and ended up somewhere here. Only me, as far as I know..." He pauses. "I hope it's only me."

HUH? UH... PRETTY DAMN LONG? SOMETHING TELLS ME YOUR NOT THE BEST WITH NUMBERS PAL AND I DON'T WANT TO FRY YOUR PEA BRAIN WITH ANYTHING BIGGER THEN TWO DIGITS. HABIT chuckled to himself  at the dirty hobo's reaction to all this. These newbies sure were interesting. A bunch of concepts with no real flushing out. Caricatures and Flanderization of concepts that were never really all that solid to begin with. Sad, but to be expected. THOUGH TO QUOTE A GREAT MAN... I'M ONE OF A KIND!

HABIT would sit and listen to Dale's tale of sorta vague woe, though would tilt his head at the last bit.REALLY? WHAT YOU PREFER TO BE ALONE OR SOMETHING? OR IS IT JUST EVERYONE FROM YOUR WORLD IS AN ASS HAT?

So far, Dale had yet to be seriously offended by anything, but HABIT was creeping close to that line. He knew that was an insult to how smart he was, and while he didn't exactly know too much, Dale was by no means stupid.
Someone stupid wouldn't have been alive now.
Still, he made no objection, nor did he make any particular reaction to the comment. Words were not something to do things over, regardless of how nice they were.
...it was interesting though. Only one of what he was? Why was that...?
And really...what was he? He still hadn't said.
He got the feeling asking more wouldn't get him more, though.

Dale thought back to the place from which he had come. To the people from before, and the people here.
"...I don't know what an 'ass hat' is, but...if someone from there is here...looking for me, or just like everyone outside...I'll hurt them. I'll hurt them and cut them and hit them and rip them until they never move again."

ASSHAT, NOUN, AN INDIVIDUAL THAT EXIBITS TRAITS OF BEING AN ALL ROUND TERRIBLE PERSON TO INTERACT WITH DUE TO ANY NUMBER OF POOR CHARACTER TRAITS. TO USE IT IN A SENTENCE, "MAN, LARRY JUST WILL NOT STOP PUTTING CHILDREN IN WOOD CHIPPERS, HE SURE IS AN ASSHAT". HABIT nodded to and pat himself on the back for that amazing definition. Perhaps in another life he wrote the dictionary or... ran a whole bunch of spelling bees. Ether way it looked like this hobo had a lot of issues. A lot of stabby stabby issues. Not exactly what he was expecting from this Tommy Wiseau looking Mo Fo but hey, take what you get.

WOW PAL, YOU SURE HAVE A LOT OF PENT UP ANGER. YOU SEEM LIKE THE KIND OF GUY WHO NEEDS PROTECTION. SOMEONE TO WATCH YOUR BACK AND WHAT NOT. YOU HAVE ANYONE LIKE THAT? ASIDE FROM YOUR LITTLE ROBO POOCH THAT IS.

...more words he hadn't heard before, but at the very least, he thought he understood what he was told.
He was going to have to find out what a wood chipper was later though, and why you wouldn't put children in it.
Dale remembered finding out about children. Those weren't fond memories. They were smaller and weaker, but that meant nothing if they got the right weapon. Then they were tiny little nightmares that could get just about everywhere in order to hurt you as bad as their weapon of choice would let them.
You could not sleep when there was a kid with a weapon in the area.
It was never, ever safe.

Dale shook his head. "Not angry...no, only angry at one of them. Rest...rest just have to stop living, or it won't be safe. Can't trust them. So I don't."
Dale couldn't help but find HABIT's statement odd. He could see Chip now, so he at least had anyway of knowing about him, but most people didn't pay much attention to him until the roaring and Enkidu stuff started. He seemed to recognise why Chip was there.
The risk from the Junc-son went up a notch in his mind.
"...just one. He's always there."
Things were so much better with Enkidu.

YOU MEAN YOUR PERSONA?... RIGHT? HABIT's red glossy eyes seemed to glaze over and shine slightly in the dim light of the slums. The stagnant air shifted slightly as he stood from his seat and stretched slightly, cracking his back. IF YOU DO THEN KNOW THAT DOESN'T COUNT, I MEAN IT'S TECHNICALLY YOU, YOU CAN'T WATCH YOUR OWN BACK YA KNOW. AND IF YOU MEAN YOUR PUPPY THEN SORRY, BUT HE'S NOT GOING TO BE DOING MUCH IN A FIGHT. SO TRY AGAIN ON THAT ONE... YOU GOT ANYONE TO WATCH YOUR BACK?

He went up a few more notches. He knew about Enkidu.
How he knew that, he didn't know, but he very much wanted to.
"...no..." If you ruled out Enkidu and Chip, then no, there wasn't anyone. But he had to wonder just what they were thinking that they did do that. "Why not them, though? You can't normally...'watch your own back', no. But there isn't two of you normally, is there?" His eyes to flick to Chip, and their gazes meet briefly. "Chip can't fight either, but he can see. Let me know where things are. Let us know where things are."
There was something he'd heard in the past from an AI. Words he didn't quite grasp the intended meaning of, but ones he still held to in his own way. "Knowing stuff is half the fight. The other half is violence."