Preambles and New Acquaintances (Lance/Helvetica)

Electronics seldom took the heat well, and Helvetica was no exception. She couldn’t sweat, of course, or feel strain in the way that humans could, but her own exhaustion took the form of the increasingly loud laboring of her cooling system, coolant pumping through her body like the blood of an organic creature at a frantic pace. The android stepped back and let out a long sigh, brushing her pastel green bangs out of her face. Despite being on leave, word had gotten around that her team was in town, and, owing to their reputation, had been requested to assist the people in preparing for the upcoming festivities. And indeed, orange jackets cut through the crowd, carrying all manner of supplies and setting up stalls amid the liveliness of the marketplace.

Deigning to take a short rest to prevent her system from running too hot, Helvetica sat down atop an unopened case, dusting off her hands as she did so. Around her, her compatriots were doing the same, taking sips of water and wiping the sweat from their brows, a blotch of yellow and orange amidst a sea of pristine whites, blacks and greys.

“Well, that should about do it!” Lance would call out as he surveyed the finished product of what had been a long morning setting up about a half-dozen grills, smokers, and refrigeration units for the ranch’s big annual barbeque stand that they’d been doing for about as long as Lance could remember. And despite his disdain for the ‘audition’ system the government had set up, he still liked that the festival was the only time of the year that all the districts actually came together in proper harmony. And this year he was tasked by his parents to be head supervisor for their stand, something that was usually done by the Edwards couple themselves. But that did mean that Lance was expected to act a bit more ‘proper’ while there, and instead of wearing his normal southern comfort outfitting, he was wearing a proper suit and tie getup that you would expect from a higher-up family coming from the Classical District.

“Now, we’ve got the ‘frigerators up an’ runnin’, the grills and smokers all set up and stocked full of coals for burnin’, and all the signs, and them people who hand out fliers to get people to stop by. Which means all we’ve got left is to start-'' He would suddenly be cut off by the sounds of flickering flames and meat meeting the grills. “Cooking. My favorite part of this mess.” Without anyone to stop and force him to act as their public relations liaison, he would immediately roll up his sleeves and set to work behind the grills, giving tips and calling out orders to the crew just as he’d seen his father do during the previous year’s auditions. But as he moved around the impromptu prep area that they’d set up around their stand, Lance would be in a good position to catch a glimpse of orange figures moving through the crowd. Now, if they were who Lance thought they were, then he’d just thought up a good way to boost Edwards Ranch’s public relations, while also getting him away from this silly management position for a little bit.

“Alright crew, before we start officially taking orders, I think I just found a few heroes that’d love a flame-grilled meal!” It wouldn’t take long for him to set up a multitude of different types of meals from their menu, all packaged up in styrofoam containers and held in plastic carrying bags. And then with his own private militia of ranch employees, Lance would saunder up to the resting Emergency Response crew, carrying a couple bags of his own around his arms. “Howdy! We at the Edwards Ranch stand figured y'all woulda been mighty hungry after all the help y'all have provided setting up the place.” A rather large grin would cross over the cowboy’s face as he continued talking. “And I’d like to offer my personal thanks to all y’all do here, in my humble opinion, it’s you guys that keep this city safe.” Was this a dig at the government and it’s precious Mugic/District system? Maybe. Did Lance care? No. “Anyways, we’ve got steaks, ribs, chicken, pulled pork sandwiches, and even some vegan options. So dig in!”

He’d motion towards the employees behind him, each of which had brought over similar bags to what Lance himself had been carrying. But as his eyes scanned through the crowd of emergency response workers, his gaze would fall upon a rather androgynous figure with unusually light green hair. With that same cheery grin plastered on his face, Lance would saunder up to the figure, taking a moment to look them over, before offering a bag towards them. “You look like a chicken type of person to me, but if I’m wrong, feel free to tell me, and I can getcha somethin’ else.”

"Thanks, mate!" Helvetica laughed breezily, a pleasant grin upon her lips. Already the non-mechanical members of the team were gratefully nodding to the numerous ranch employees around them, graciously accepting their sorely appreciated offerings of nourishment. Curiously, though, Helvetica and a few others could not be counted among them, those individuals simply milling about and turning down the offers of food as cordially as they could. Helvetica sheepishly clasped the back of her neck as she turned to reply to Lance, crossing her legs before her as she did so.

"Well, err, some of us don't really...eat, you see, as much as we appreciate the gesture."