Setting up Camp

[in_the_cracks]

Nexus warehouses are useful things. Some are constantly heaving with alien beings and still more alien wares; others stand sealed and silent, never offering a hint of what lies within. Many are visibly (probably) abandoned, the doors left open and the paint peeling, refuges for litter and Nexus-goers seeking a shadowy corner.

Someone has recently laid claim to one in the back alleys of the Nexus. The gaunt shell has been cleaned out, doors replaced and reinforced (and a few unobtrusive security systems added). Until now, Telrim herself hasn’t been near the place.

But the job is in her hands now. A stack of boxes has been delivered to the entrance. They look hefty, but the only markings are plain labels in tiny text you’d have to get close to read. Whatever they are, the Controller is shifting them inside with a cart at a quick pace. The next delivery is due soon. She has to be ready to receive and store it – not to mention guarding against nosy Nexus-goers…

Comments

[in_the_cracks]

"Should be simple. Just avoid universes with sufficiently intelligent machines."

((sorry for delays, computer problems))

[punk_wily]

"For playtime, yeah," Punk says. "Not so easy the rest of the time. Sometimes we've had allies in worlds like ours, and other times..." He shrugs, "It'd be like you avoiding all universes where there are squishies because there's a chance that reality has ebola."

((no worries, things are very slow here too))

[in_the_cracks]

Her mouth quirks. "Or humans too primitive to cure it. But I take your point. It would be a severe inconvenience."

She straightens, resting a hand on the top of those nondescript boxes as she shifts her weight back. "Of course, if need be you could recruit organic help here. There's always someone willing to take an interest."

Re: ((no worries, things are very slow here too))

[punk_wily]

Punk looks puzzled for a moment. Recruit squishies to... what? Check portals? "You mean send em in to places where there might be some version of the Omega Virus, since they can't catch it? Heh. There are a few at home that might do that."

((Bad computer problem, still resolving, but trying to catch up))

[in_the_cracks]

She nods politely. "If there's no danger of their being recognised, of course. I understand the politics in your universe can be... difficult to avoid."

[punk_wily]

"Not much of one," Punk says, and shrugs. "Some of em ain't from our universe to start with, so they wouldn't even have alts or anything."

He just snorts at the mention of politics. "I never got messed up in that stuff. I'm a combat 'bot. Enker's in charge of things, and I go tear apart anything that needs scrapped. 'Course, that's a lot shorter list now that Weil's dead and the war's over... Which is why I was looking for that door."

Because when there's nothing else to fight, zombies are a good way for Punk to avoid being bored.

[in_the_cracks]

"Oh, it's over?" She lifts her eyebrows with momentary curiosity, filing that away for later. She wonders if the others know. She can't guarantee that they'd tell her. "Sorry- I don't keep up with other people's wars. Politics aren't my thing either."

[punk_wily]

"Yeah. The guy behind it got himself blown up and scattered in bits around almost two-thirds of Earth. Left a mess, but at least he's history."

[in_the_cracks]

Maybe she shouldn't look amused. But there's a twitch of a smile from her anyway, a stifled chuckle. "Ah, a happy ending. That's always nice."

She glances at the boxes still to be shifted. "Well, I won't keep you from your fun. Try not to bring the mess indoors, won't you?"

[punk_wily]

Except for all the Ragnarok fragments that can cause insanity, but the cleanup is Somebody Else's Problem as far as Punk's concerned. He's off the lists to help with that due to his temper - a factor that can make one vulnerable around the stuff.

"Heh, course not," is all he says, as he'll head off to that door.