Chance Encounter (Semi-Open)

[Florin]

Bored. That was one thing not many stitchpunks could say about themselves. But for Florin, it was a common occurrence, especially on these slow days. She stood in the doorway of what was once a supermarket, but she had little interest of going inside. She was on duty. If that was what one could call it, anyway.

One easily could look at her nearly-flawless, aristocratic appearance and take a good guess she was a Racketeer. And they'd be right. But still, it was something she tried to keep hidden, even if she didn't do a great job of it. The market seemed a better place to... wait for customers today. They usually wondered around this area, anyways. Waiting near the Clocktower would label her as a Racketeer the moment one saw her. Here, at least she had some chance of appearing to be a scavenger. Not much, be some.

Again, her appearance greatly hinted at her occupation, though this time the hints would be wrong. One would look at her and probably immediately think she was one of the Racketeer prostitutes. And that would quickly earn them a nice slap across the face. No, she wouldn't go that low. At least, not often. Magnets were her job, and she did it rather well.

Except for today. But that wasn't her fault. No one seemed to be out today. Odd, considering it was sunny, for once, which she was quite grateful for. Better to have nothing to do and it be nice than have customers and stand out in the rain or snow.

For now, she let slip a soft sigh as she leaned back against the doorway. She looked down at her silver hand, the fingers sharp and pointed, designed to mimic a woman's fingernails. She began looking over her hand, checking for any dirt or grit that might be on the surface or in the joints.

[Pearl]

"Busy old fool, unruly sun," the gently shimmering stitchpunk murmured aloud as she watched the fat red ball roll across the sky in slow motion. "Why dost thou thus, through windows, and through curtains, call on us?" The poet's intended sentiment of the words were entirely inappropriate for the scene, but as the words left her mouth, they became hers to shape as she pleased.

As far as Pearl was concerned, there was nothing remarkable about the day so far, except for the weather. Like clockwork she had checked the immediate surroundings of her home for dangers, restocked her bag with fabric and blades, then set off in a new direction in search of powerful life. Today's journey had lead her to a decaying urban area, much like the rest of the world she'd seen so far; the only difference she noticed between the place she explored now and the places she'd explored previously was the presence of different buildings.

Her bag of supplies hung neatly from her shoulder and was held in place against her side with an arm, while the other hand frequently adjusted the brim of her hat so it would cast a more substantial shadow over her optics. "Thy beams so reverend, and strong" she chattered at the sky in hushed tones, "Why shouldst thou think? I could eclipse and cloud them with a wink." The shutters of her eyes clicked closed for a moment and her lips curved into a small smile of triumph as the world went dark. However, when she opened them again and allowed a moment for her vision to adjust as the sunlight gleamed on her optics, the scene before her had changed.

There was someone else here.

In the entrance of a building, just barely within her line of sight, the pale silhouette of a stitchpunk stood idly against the door frame. From this distance Pearl couldn't discern any more details about the figure's appearance, and so she couldn't make any assumptions. But a living being was something to be investigated.

"She's all states, and all princes I," she muttered under a grin, before she lifted her chin and straightened her expression, approaching the mysterious figure with an unmistakable, unwavering air of authority. It took her less than a minute to cover the distance between them, and in this time she had observed and processed the elegant and luxurious design of the stitchpunk, from the fur that adorned her shoulders to the lace that framed her wrists and ankles, to the trio of pearls that livened up her midriff. More colourful than her own pearls, she observed, and wondered if this additional detail increased their value.

But such trivial thoughts were dismissed as she finally arrived inside the small circle she considered close enough to begin speaking to a person, as she believed it to be incredibly unbecoming to simply start yelling from afar. At this proximity she could also observe the small scars in her fabric, the missing lace from her right ankle, and the interesting structure of the stitchpunk's feet. The day's sunlight loaned the beige figure a somewhat more radiant appearance than usual, too. Judgments and speculations ran wild in the back of her head, but they remained in the back as she finally acknowledged the stranger verbally in her usual no-nonsense manner.

"Good afternoon. My name is Pearl, you may call me Pearl, pleased to make your acquaintance. May I ask who you are and what your business is?"

[Vagabond[101]]

Vagabond set a small, severed machine optic down on a tiny rolled-up sheet of metal. The wires that once connected it to a brain now hung limply as the stocky, long-armed ragdoll took a step back. He touched his thumbs and forefingers together to make a rectangle and squinted at the small metal orb, balanced precariously on the tiny cylinder. Gauging his power and distance, he set a small oil can in front of the optic and looked around.

He picked up a long, thin metal pole to the end of which a thick piece of metal had been duct-taped. He took a galloping, awkward step in and swung with both arms as hard as he could at the optic. The oil can crunched satisfyingly and the club slammed into the optic, which gave out a loud CRACK and went sailing through the air like a ballistic missile, leaving shards of red glass behind it as it went. Vagabond hooted and hollered with glee, craning his head and shading his eyes with one hand to watch the optic sail.

He loped after it as fast as he could in his gorilla-like gait, moving up the side of a hill as the optic dropped out of sight. He looked down the side as the optic plummeted- Straight towards Florin.

Vagabond did not agree with Pearl's assertion that it was unbecoming to shout at people. "HEY, PEOPLE!" He shouted, flapping his arms like a lunatic. "DUCK!!"

His words of wisdom came too late. He winced. Headshot. He'd have been quite proud of that swing if it hadn't hit a stitchpunk and had instead hit a machine, but he started loping down the side of the slope, using his knuckles as he always did. This was going to take some explaining.

[Florin]

Florin looked up from grooming her hand at the new voice. What she saw was certainly not what she'd been expecting.

Typically she only found the most ragged, impolite, drug-damaged dolls while out here. Occasionally someone would wonder up and then start running when they discovered what it was she was doing, and rarer still were the ones that sought her out just to tell her how horrible she is for dealing drugs, and all that nonsense. Never, though, had she been approached by someone so... for lack of a better word... fancy.

Unexpected, but not unwelcome in the slightest.

Immediately Florin rose up from her leisurely slouch into her usual proper, ladylike stance. It almost felt as though she were looking in a mirror. A different colored, less fluffy, clothed mirror. Nevertheless, she found herself liking this doll already. Anyone who kept themselves as extravagant as this and introduced themselves so politely was a friend, in Florin's book. Florin smiled kindly at her, and opened her mouth to respond to her questions.

But never got the chance to speak.

Before she could respond, she felt something smack against the side of her head. Something hard and metallic, with enough force that it caused her to fall to the side, only to have her head smacked again as she unintentionally hit it against the wall she'd been leaning against. Only a soft yelp escaped her lips before she slid down the wall, and collapsed in a dazed, disoriented heap.

[Pearl]

It all happened very suddenly. What was initially going to be a simple conversation had turned into a conflict in a matter of milliseconds. Pearl flinched as the projectile made contact with her acquaintance's head, and winced as the momentum threw the doll into the wall before dropping her to the ground. Glancing over her shoulder towards the direction the metal object came from, she spotted an unknown creature descending a nearby mound, and judging by the hollers she'd heard a moment before the impact, it was the perpetrator.

From this distance she could determine that it was an interestingly structured doll; its large forearms gave it the appearance of something not entirely stitchpunk, perhaps a beast of some kind. It certainly seemed to be uncouth and uncivilised, and definitely dangerous. Although the only fearsome creatures she had encountered were the Factory's beasts, she had heard tales from the Saviors and the Rogues about stitchpunks who were no better, if not worse, than the red-eyed frames which pillaged their fortresses. Stories of dolls who destroy their own kind and bring the carcass back to that hell hole for a gruesome reconstruction.

Her expression had dropped slightly into a frown, but as she turned back to the disorientated doll it quickly vanished, replaced by the same straight face as before. Carefully, she knelt beside her dazed company without letting her knees touch the ground and inquired of her health, while simultaneously setting her bag on the ground and extracting her weapon. "Are you alright? Speak to me, if you can!" Her tone remained confident and insistent, and as she unfolded the blade she chanced a glance back at the incoming creature. The speed at which it covered the distance between them was frightening, and Pearl soon stood up to occupy the space between the two dolls, the sharp blade at her side reflecting the afternoon's light. She held it visible, to indicate that she was not afraid to confront this enemy, but lowered beside her to indicate that she was open to negotiation. This situation did not have to end with any losses.

[Vagabond[101]]

If the brutish-looking newcomer saw the blade, he gave no indication. A stream of expletives sprayed from his mouth at high volume as he ran towards them. The occasional "SORRY, FUCKING SORRY!!" could be heard and as the figure came closer it was easy to tell that it was quite... short. As he loped up, the momentum given to him by the slope petered out and his quick pace took on a much slower speed. He stopped running on his knuckles, using only his legs, and began jogging wheezily over to them, almost staggering as he panted.

"Hhh... Hold on..." He panted, bending over and putting his hands on his knees as he struggled to catch his breath. "Okay. Fffff-right. All right. Okay. Did she die? Fuck, I killed her didn't I? FFFFUCK!" He turned and shouted off into the emptiness, walking around in a small circle with his hands on the small of his back, squinting into the sun as if he were trying to determine what time it was. "Okay. Shit. I fucking killed her. No big- Fuck meeeee I can't-" He dribbled off into discombobulated mutterings, occasionally taking a step towards Florin and Pearl before jerking backwards.

He eventually cleared his throat, dusted himself off, and walked back over to Pearl and Florin. "Right. Um, fuck. Who're you? I, uh, I mean... Nice to.. fucking... make your acquaintance." He did a funny little spasm that might have been a half-bow and looked at Florin. "Did I kill her? Is she dead?"

[Florin]

Fortunately, or possibly not, Florin's optics flickered back open a moment later. Almost immediately she let out a sharp hiss as she clutched the sides of her head. "Applesauce... what the bloody hell..." She muttered. Florin felt along the sides of her head. Nothing seemed broken or dented, luckily. She had a small scuff on each side, though naturally they weren't visible to her.

She quickly managed to pull herself back up to her feet, but stumbled slightly, partially due to the hits to the head, and partially because of the awkward build of her feet. Finally, the pain died down, and she looked up at the dolls. There were two now. Apparently one had showed up while she was... occupied. Her gaze narrowed a bit. Perhaps they weren't friends after all. What if they had teamed up to attack her?

"What the devil was that?! Who did that?! "

[Pearl]

As the newcomer shouted and spun around in circles before eventually hashing up a greeting, Pearl reassessed the situation. Although he clearly possessed gargantuan strength, she was struggling to discern if his mind could keep up with those oversized limbs of his. From what she understood, the bulky but short doll was claiming that the attack was accidental, but that was some incredible aim for an accident. As her first companion regained her senses and quickly became angered, Pearl spoke up, so that maybe the three of them could come to some agreement.

To her beige companion she spoke first, as she noticed that the doll's anger was directed at both of them. "I assure you, I do not know this person." Although she was also suspicious of the possibility of a pre-existing feud between these two dolls, she refrained from commenting on it. As she spoke she also made a fuss of folding up her weapon, as she no longer saw the immediate need for it.

Next she spoke to the uncouth-character, her tone reminiscent of an officer interrogating a convict. "Clearly she is not dead. Would I be correct in assuming that you are the source of the attack I just witnessed?" The folded piece of equipment now rested uselessly on the ground by her side, but her hand was in light contact with the hinge, as it was the easiest place to pick it up and unsheathe it from in a hurry.

[Vagabond[101]]

Things were going ass-backwards quickly- Vagabond had half a mind to turn and just run away, because he really couldn't understand any part of what in the nine fucking rings was going on.

Pearl's tone got on Vagabond's nerves- Then again, pretty much everything got on Vagabond's nerves. He bared his sharp teeth, but the angry expression seemed natural on his face.

"Yeah, I was fucking golfing. Do you have any goddamn idea how hard it is to entertain yourself on a day like today?" He pointed to the hill. "I dunno about... I dunno about 'attack', but it was a fucking accident." He put his hands up and looked at Florin for a second. "Sorry, fuck." He bent down and picked up the smashed machine optic- Although Florin's cranium was unharmed, the optic he had used as a golf ball was completely decimated. "Son of a bitch, that was my last good one." He grumbled, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder.

"Anyways, what the fuck are you two doing out here? There's like... Fucking... Machines, and Traitors, and Rogues, and Racketeers and shit. I mean, Rogues only rob you and whatever and Racketeers aren't really a threat but... they try to... fuckin' sell you stuff and... that shit pisses me off." He left out the fact that well, pretty much everything pissed him off. He crossed his arms and glared at both Pearl and Florin as if they were responsible for machines, traitors, and door-to-door salesman.

[Florin]

Florin's pupils narrowed into slits at the male doll. The fur around her neck seemed to stand up as her shoulders tensed. Her hand visibly twitched as she held back the urge to give this buffoon a slap across the face. It was rather difficult. But, luckily for Vagabond, she managed to restrain herself.

Florin took a moment to look the doll over. If there were ever a picture of 'rude','idiot', and 'unpleasant', she imagined this doll would be it. If she could even call him a 'doll'. It nearly embarrassed her to think of this... this thing, as the same species as herself. He more resembled an animal than an anima, in more ways than one.

Difficult as it was, Florin let out a soft sigh, forcing herself to calm. Her eyes shifted back to their usual shape, but her fur still stood on end. It was an accident, supposedly, and he did apologize... " It... it's quite alright..."

But then he kept talking. Luckily he seemed to dense to not be able to outright tell she WAS a Racketeer. This doll looked like a loner, but his opinions said Savior.

Florin's sight turned to the first doll, the female. Both had asked what it was she was doing. She's prefer directing her answer to this one. "Forgive me.... Pearl, was it? Lovely to meet you. I'm Florin. As for what it is I'm doing... well, I was waiting on someone. But it seems they've decided not to show."

[Pearl]

The repetition of such vulgar words were beginning to get on Pearl's nerves, although the only outwards indication she gave of this was a slightly lowered corner of her mouth. It didn't help that their unrefined company seemed to be very talkative which naturally increased the amount of obscenities which left his voice box, but she noticed that his rambling description of the other factions was fairly accurate compared to her own knowledge, and she made mental note not to underestimate his intelligence or observational skills.

Her feminine companion replied to the question hidden in his chatter, revealing the information which Pearl had asked for right at the beginning, and she was pleased to discovered that the doll now named Florin seemed to be as lady-like as her appearance suggested. "I see, how disappointing," she commented on the behaviour of this unknown acquaintance. "Rude, in fact." With a slight turn of her head she addressed the other stitchpunk with her own answer. "I am merely becoming more acquainted with my surroundings. This is a large world we live in and I fear I haven't seen more than a fraction of it yet."

[Vagabond[101]]

Vagabond gave Pearl and Florin each another quick glance. His strange, slanted optics rotated for a moment, going from downward slanted and angry looking to momentarily up-slanted, giving him somewhat of a confused appearance with his still-furrowed brow. He knew that he was quite outclassed in pretty much every definition of the word. He fucking hated fancy people. But for the moment, they were being civil, and he didn't want to necessarily scare these two off.

As Florin gave off some bullshit excuse about waiting for someone Vagabond's eyes swiveled back to their normal angry appearance, and he dropped to sit on his heels, resting his palms on the ground. He caught the lie as she said it- This was Racketeer territory. Unless she was waiting for a Racketeer she was dealing something. He supposed it wasn't exactly a lie- She may have been waiting for perspective clients. Vagabond freely acknowledged that he wasn't the brightest bulb in the batch, but Florin was way too clean and undamaged to be a Savior or a Loner. And that foofaraw about her neck was too gaudy to be practical, which meant she probably didn't do a whole lot in the way of combat. This entire minute of thought that encompassed both Pearl speaking to him and her and Florin exchanging pleasantries was also the longest amount of time he'd been silent since arriving.

He bristled slightly as Pearl mentioned how the unknown acquaintance was rude, but dismissed it when he realized she wasn't talking to him. "Yeah, well... I'm bad with fractions. Or whatever." Vagabond muttered. "I'm Vagabond." He pointed to the large '101' on his chest and forehead to indicate his number. "Pleased to meet you I guess." He clearly was not used to formal introduction. "So who are you meeting out here? This place is shitty for meetings. There's druggies all over the place." He gestured broadly with one of his large hands.

The truth was that Vagabond often wandered out here to play golf- He'd once hit an optic so hard it had nearly hit the clocktower. Most of the seedy characters kept away from him because of his volume, violent language, and the fact that he tended to snap his golf clubs in half if he messed up a shot. To see two relatively sane ragdolls out here made him curious.

[Florin]

Florin folded her arms across her chest. Vagabond. Rather fitting. Not that she was about to say so out loud. As much as she disliked this stitchpunk already, she prided herself in maintaining a ladylike, polite manner. Despite how difficult it was becoming. She's been so excited to find someone civil wondering out here, and Vagabond ruined it. Just her luck.

She addressed Pearl first, naturally. "Quite. I've been tempted to do the same myself, but I find my duties keep me from such. I've don't believe I've seen you before, my dear. Have you come far? "

She then reluctantly turned to Vagabond. How tempted she was to ignore him... were she anyone else, she probably would have. Or better yet, give him a good smack and cursing. But no, that was improper. Mustn't sink to such levels, for now. " I'm afraid that business is my own. What, if I may ask, are YOU doing out here? "

[Pearl]

Perhaps she wouldn't have to be so wary about his intelligence, then, as he so freely admitted to his lack of it. His general knowledge of the area was intriguing, though. Committing his name to memory, she also noticed that Vagabond was the only one present with a number, or at least, a visible number. Pearl had come to notice that numbers were the most common birth name for stitchpunks, although she was yet to find out the reason for it. It did allow her to feel slightly more unique about having only a chosen name.

As Florin addressed her she shifted her entire focus to her, and replied promptly. "I do think so, as I have traveled here from the Outskirts, but the pleasant day has made the journey seem so much shorter," she explained, a mild smile accompanying her response. After that had been cleared up she listened to Florin's question for Vagabond, as she too would quite like to know the answer. It was rather interesting, the way this brute seemed so eager to announce his knowledge, as if he were trying to prove something. Maybe he was. It was hard to tell if he was talking to make a point or talking because there simply wasn't enough room in his brain for his thoughts.

[Vagabond[101]]

His slanted eyes narrowed even more, and his eyebrows met sharply in the middle of his head as they dropped. His teeth flashed again as he bared them for a moment. It was pretty clear to him that Florin didn't like him very much- Good. He couldn't stand it when people played fake-nice. Being polite was one thing. Lying was another. Vagabond didn't enjoy being lied to. On occasion he could understand it. But this was not an occasion.

He addressed her question with a somewhat angry tone. "I already fucking told you, I was golfing. I get bored sometimes when I'm on watch, and this place is pretty close to where my post is, so I come over here to hit eyeballs at the stupid clocktower."

He'd nailed Florin for a Racketeer now- No doubt about that. Pearl was harder to figure- But he wasn't exactly a detective, and he didn't exactly care. Vagabond stood back up, folding his large arms and tapping his fingers against the light purple section of his arm fabric. Vagabond's patience was waning. These two outclassed him, and they knew it, and he knew it, and he would rather be hitting junk at the taller buildings than standing here where he wasn't wanted. The more he stood here the angrier he became.

"All right look, let's just fucking put it on the table. Neither of you seem to like me, and quite frankly I have better things to do today than stand here and listen to you two fancytalk all goddamn day. You're a Racketeer, I'm a Savior," Vagabond jutted his chin at Florin, "And I'm fucking tired of sitting around pretending you've been waiting here for anyone other than some half-scattered bag of bolts looking for-" He kept himself from calling her a prostitute outright, seeing as she was far too proud to be one-"Whatever it is you're selling."

He turned to Pearl. "I'm sure you have something to say, so don't bullshit me. Either of you."