Step City

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Cecille 22-May-21 11:06 PM
X101 – Flashback to the Solar Flares: Day One??

Cecille had managed to keep that same dusty apartment over a long-abandoned restaurant. Some banditos had ended up 'repurposing' the downstairs, but the Square had managed to convince them that they weren't a threat (and could even offer tea in exchange for not being hassled). Their life almost had a routine, even if most of that was keeping their mind occupied with projects and tinkering.

A Square-district clinic had been having issues with a bit of old in-clinic Vendy Tech, and they'd offered to take the converter (junk otherwise) to see if they could make heads or tails of it. There weren't any Mr Vendy Inc Technicians around anymore, afterall. They were just an interested party, and they sat up at the remains of a little dining room table with a few tools, a soldering iron, and an old cracked mug of tea.

They had an old radio set up beside them (the banditos had taken anything with a screen), turned down low because they could never avoid music, but there'd been word of a lot of odd happenings around the city and they'd been trying to catch up on snippets of News. Between that and the confused chatter on their phone's Twitter, to which they occasionally glanced, but couldn't make much of.
>
Vibe-swapping was new, weird, raised so many questions. Not that it affected them, they didn't have any vibe to swap up. So they just squinted at their work, having sent Zeta a text about their own little project, as well as a more general 'how are you', requestions for updates on whatever was going on in this crazy city.

A little hum, and a weird prickle on the back of their neck, a comfortable tingle they'd never really felt before but reminded them—distantly—of fonk. They wondered if one of the banditos below had discharged something, setting their project down and reaching for their phone. An odd weightlessness came over Cecille, and they felt themself rising—standing? No, what—"Ah," with an awkward summersault over the dining room table, they floated gently like a helium balloon to bump and land flat-backed against the ceiling. They had no words. "Uh--!?" It took them a few seconds to recover, their wavy hair bobbing around their face, droopy hazel eyes cast around the ceiling and realizing that none of the furniture had come up with them.

Looking down, they realized they were still clutching their phone. Rather than send out another text, they panicked a phonecall instead. "Aldo!?" They half expected to come crashing down at any second.

Zeta 23-May-21 11:24 AM
Zeta - or Aldo, to the Square, who'd known more about the man than anyone around, and who was the only one left who could use that name - had given them dutiful play-by-plays through texts and the odd call here and there throughout the day - though largely it had been at a distance, dutifully observational, swinging through every prevailing theory as the chaos unfolded. He'd keep checking back in on them - how was the project going, try something like this? Could he come over and have a look?

So far, the most eventful thing that had happened to himself was the accidental swapping of vibes with a friend on a handshake. It was at least entertaining for how brief it lasted; there'd been the uncontrollable urge to sing - which for Aldo wasn't unusual - but the singing had a tendency to summon every bird and small animal in the area.

He'd been polite enough to keep that noise away from Cec...but there'd been plenty of pictures. Several had the obligatory princess glitter and stamps superimposed over them, as was good and proper.

But he'd not expected a call - never mind one so urgent. The man answered immediately, though there was a note slightly alarmed in his own voice - one that only amplified when he'd heard their own tone.

"CECI. Banditos giving you trouble? What's happening?

And more unusually, murmurs fluttered about at some distance from the mouthpiece.

"Wait, Cecille's here?!"

"Yes, yeah, they're *fine ...Yeah, 'course I'm going to them. You. Stay. Yooooou...stay." *

Then realizing that probably wasn't the best dismissal of...whoever may have been standing at a distance from the receiver (though curiously the other voice might not have been so distinct through the phone), he continued, still notably on edge.

"...are you? I'll be right over, need something, anything from me?"

Cecille 23-May-21 11:50 AM
Cecille had likely sent them back with a few garish, glittery stickers added, amused commentary included. They'd also sent back a few pictures of their own progress, with thoughts on where to go from there. Following along with his own thoughts and suggestions, some absolutely outlandish and rightly called out, some getting a vocal chuckle and their best attempt to translate that into a 'lol' (maybe typing "hah"? Or perhaps an emoticon. No, those looked silly. Many instances left blank instead, but the laughter was implied).

If they hadn't been currently drifting across the ceiling the secondary voice would have, normally, been immediate cause for alarm. Who was he talking to about them? Who else knew them by name? But they were caught up in their own predicament, not immediately realizing there was Someone Else, and scrambling to 'find their footing' against the outdated stucco that scraped against their palms.

"That may be—perhaps? I don't--"

They struggled to try and get some baring, but having just had their world entirely flipped, it was still taking a moment for them to regain their equilibrium (nearly dropping their phone in the process). They'd bobbed—once—but finally settled against the ceiling directly over the dining table, beside the light.

"I am floating—someone's vibe gone wrong, perhaps."

Slowly, surely, they'd regained balance, testing 'sitting' upside-down and looking around. With a renewed calmness came that nagging scientific sensibility.

"Perhaps they've reversed the gravity. Or—no, nothing else has moved."

Only they were floating.

"Ah... A tether? I am unsure how long this will last—oh dear, this would be painful to fall from."

Zeta 23-May-21 12:57 PM
FLOATING?!

He might've been a little more elated any other moment if they weren't quite so alarmed. Or if they weren't in danger of dropping straight to the ground at any chaotic moment. His own 'Princess Vibe' had been a swap and had lasted less than a half-an-hour.

Still, this was Zeta, this was Aldo, and he at least tried to spin his tone and presentation into something encouraging, something that - if not promising progress, at least sounded like they'd made some headway, and could really coax more results out with proper work and encouragement.

Cec, that's a vibe, look at you, you've got a vibe to fling around! Remember our dances, remember the Fonk, don't panic. Just, ah, don't fall.

So much for 'don't panic.'

That sentiment may have been echoed aloud with some quiet sass by the mysterious second voice, in a tone that almost, almost smacked of an eye-roll...that may have carried into the speaker's shoulders.

Try hanging onto something. Or singing - yeah, probably can't dance up there, try humming. Just a little. While holding onto something. I'll be right over.

"WE'LL be right over, you don't just tell a floating person not to panic, and it's Cec the hell all of this is."

...I gotta show y'something anyway.

It was an awkward and quick addendum before he hurriedly hung up. Now, to find some rope or something...
---

He'd burst into their apartment in a barely-restrained hurry, waving one hand, popping and showering his usual lime sparks; in the other hand was a tether, probably bought in a frightening and inexplicable flurry from the poor confused shelter in the research district. He waved the vibe about a bit in a shower of static. "THIS STILL WORKS, I'll figure out something..."

He'd spoken to an empty room.

A breath, an attempt at gathering that composure for which he was so known. Up. Right.

No sooner did he take in the sight of poor levitating Cecille, never mind able to process how funny, frightening or joyful this could be, than he was shortly followed by a second person thundering up the stairs behind him, bursting into the room in panicked indignation. And oddly, the newcomer was only the second-strangest thing in the room: younger by several evident years, disheveled, with hollowed eyes, stubborn stubble, wearing grimier clothes that seemed far more suited to an office than any hopping joint on the album, the tail of a lanyard crammed into his pocket whose faded white letters may have at one point spelled STEP, a pocket-radio in the other, wearing a long-stopped watch, and with one of Zeta's purple jackets rather unceremoniously thrown around his shoulders which he'd pulled around himself as a cape, only now seeming to find the presence of mind to pull one arm after another into the sleeves, proper.

This was, impossibly, an Aldo that had never heard of the Mafia. And one that had seemed to be a shadow, one that skulked and subsisted on Vendybars.

And this Aldo seemed to be entirely confused - and only barely tolerated by the present Zeta.
A "CEC." erupted in near-unison from both...before both immediately tried to brush off that they'd done it. Zeta waved a hand at the younger one with a roll of his shoulders, and a you-see-what-I'm-dealing-with?! sort of a muted gesture, before he added a "You okay? How are y'feeling? Um...I can..."

And Zeta was the one that stepped forward with the lead, looking up and brandishing it in one hand.

"What were you thinking? Like your arm or your leg or something? Try, ah...humming? Should I just climb up?" He'd already flared some static, testing it against their wall with splayed fingers. He'd never tried climbing to someone's ceiling before...maybe he'd have better luck scaling what little furniture they had like a normal person.

And then he'd grinned up at them. "See y'know all I'm thinking about is Mary Poppins having tea on the ceiling. "

Cecille 23-May-21 03:18 PM
"I wouldn't jump to that, this is likely someone losing control and affecting everyone—ah, perhaps organics—hm."

A little too pessimistic at this point to expect they'd generated their own vibe. But Aldo was running with it, and they did mumble a weak 'okay'.

"Oh, my radio is down there... Perhaps I can reach the table. Hm."

A second voice clipped in, and that one they were sure they heard, startling the doctor. They were trying to stand, to find a 'balance' on their feet. This upward force didn't quite feel like 'gravity', just a drifting, moving current that made gaining traction difficult.

"Who—what was that? Aldo? Oop—"

A brief pause, wind on the speaker, then BANG clatter. Their words fizzled into silence.

" ᴵ ᵃᵐ ᵒᵏᵃʸᵎ ᴵ ʰᵃᵛᵉ ᵈʳᵒᵖᵖᵉᵈ ᵐʸ ᵖʰᵒⁿᵉ. "

And... It was well out of reach.

---
They'd gained quite a bit of progress in the time it took for Zeta to get there. On their feet, they found if they pushed against the ceiling they could 'bounce' a bit like an astronaut on the moon. The old industrial build gave them a high ceiling, but they could bounce—hop against the force that kept them upwards, and almost—almost reach the table.

Another and they managed to grab the lip, but found that their own weight was enough to move the table, and ended up letting go to drift back down to the stucco. That was starting to feel harsh under their socked feet.

Zeta finally burst in in time to find the doctor wobbling and hopping, attempting to—attempting to—with another jump, they managed to get a hand on their (now cold) mug of tea. ...Which they now had to hold upside-down, relative. "Hm."

"Aldo! Who—what." They nearly dropped their that too, trying to stay oriented and taking awkward, drifting steps in Zeta's direction. Their eyes were on the Other Aldo. Zeta got a frown at the joke, but they couldn't hold it. ...They WERE holding a mug of tea. "It's gone cold." They brought it up to their face anyhow, trying to figure out how to take a sip from it upside-down. And now they were stuck holding this awkward container of liquid, leaving them without an extra hand. They hadn't thought this through.

Pursing their lips, they raised their free hand above their head in an attempt to reach Zeta. "Leg, perhaps? I haven't tried humming... I don't..." They were clearly still distracted, their eyes having never quite left the Other Aldo; haggard, familiar, and so much younger. Cecille looked much the same, in contrast, minus the years that had not been kind to them.

Zeta 23-May-21 09:27 PM
The Other Aldo had similarly remained quiet as Zeta did his best to get an idea of the situation from Ceci. He'd at first chimed in with his own questions alongside Zeta, stubborn, almost intent to get his out before this weird green impostor did, before reluctantly falling silent again. He'd barely had a bean on what had happened to him or how long it would last (or if this played by Back to the Future rules or 12 Monkeys rules or something else - best not to get lynched as a scientist either way...) all at once evidently fascinated and troubled with what he was seeing.

So Zeta would have the lead...for now.

And Aldo approached his ceiling-bound coworker as casually as if they weren't bobbing along it.

"...Hey, Cec." He nodded up at them, venturing that half-smirk. "It's been a while, right? From my understanding of what's happening, here. See y'got an apartment. ...and a vibe."

Zeta's own musings did break suddenly to offer Aldo a "They know you have a vibe." Despite how weird the whole scene was, there was still something emphatic and heartfelt in Zeta's reassurance for Aldo; it had appeared to be something that really weighed on the man's mind - to the point that he'd visibly straightened up with a slight spark and pop, visibly relieved.

"Or...something like it. Today's got me kinda' stumped, Cec."

He added after a beat and a head-bob. "You're, ah. Looking good."

---

Zeta, meanwhile, had no compunctions climbing up onto Ceci's table, humming and singing, "I looooove to laaaauuugh~" carefully as he did, trying dubiously to keep the thing from wobbling under his weight as he slowly attempted to stand, reaching for their hand.
To Ceci, Zeta added, "I'll try to explain once you're down." Should he clasp that hand, he'd hang on and attempt to pull them down, slipping the lead from around his wrist to around theirs. "C'mere, hum if you can. Hum, sing...and think...landing thoughts? Find somewhere to point that hum...see if that works..."

Over his shoulder he chirped, "Aldo...Fred Astaire it?"

"I'm not climbing the ceiling."

"Don't know until you try. How about this; come get their mug so we can get a better grip over here."

Cecille 23-May-21 10:46 PM
Cecille couldn't help but stare. Zeta was Zeta, the man they'd known for years and years, but this was Aldo--harried and rundown and exactly how they remembered him. Closer to who they'd lived on the streets with. The knots and twists they felt were ones of old betrayal. "Hello. It has. ...Well. Evidently." There was a hollow silence, unsure how to break it. "This is news to me." If their current appearance was anything to go off of—older, but no less overrun—and living in the Research District of all places—then their years of experiments (to come) had gone nowhere.

And then Zeta had to break in with a second Uncomfortable Truth, and the doctor cleared their throat with that signature 'hm-hm' from the ceiling. And from there they offered, voice dipping quietly but still audible: "You were never as subtle as you thought." They almost sat right back down on the ceiling, as 'standing' took a weird bit of balance to maintain. Aldo complimented them. They looked over that unshaved face, familiar appearance. "You're... not." Ouch. He looked tired, like he needed something more than vendybars. Like he needed sleep.
>
Cecille wobbled back towards the ceiling light, over the dining room, so that they could grab that offered hand. Muttering a "careful" as he teetered on the wobbly old table. "A duplication vibe? Something more than that. Plucking timeline instances? Quantum physics doesn't allow for that, does it?" They should think not (though, not their area of expertise, of course). But when did Step City ever make sense?

"I haven't read Peter Pan in a few decades," that little bit of sass as they pulled back, trying to draw themself down from the ceiling one-handed. They instinctively put their lips together at Zeta's instruction, only to cast a quick side-glance at Aldo, suddenly self-conscious at the idea of humming. One had the history of seeing them hum, try to sing, dance. The other didn't.

They held out their mug instead, trying to make it reach. "It still has liquid in it." Nothing they wanted to save, they just didn't want to dump it on his head if they had to drop it. They'd drop it down into waiting hands, hopefully, freeing themself up to grab Zeta's with both and try and drag themself downwards, legs kicking lazily overhead. A much quieter: "What am I humming." They couldn't just hum on command. They just wanted to... Not float out a window.

Zeta 24-May-21 07:44 PM
Aldo may as well have read their mind; if what both of him had thought had happened, happened - especially with how Zeta had described it all - years of attempts and hopes at finding a vibe secretly, hopefully buried in the other scientist had all been fruitless. It was as it had always been, perhaps even more so if this 'Zeta' was no longer hiding: He was the scientist with the vibe. They were not.

There was something open and slightly wounded about his expression at that. But in true Aldo and Zeta fashion, he rolled his shoulders and neck and grinned, though there was something unshakably rattled about his eyes he couldn't quite drop.

"Didn't think I would. Y'wanna know how long it's been since my last Vendybar? I hope you're...eating." He almost started to say something else, an apology sparking in his eyes and dancing on the tip of his tongue. Then looked over at Zeta, at how he'd looked like he'd at least ate something resembling food, wore cleaner clothes, seemed much more confident about his vibe...and for once, Aldo was properly speechless.

He did follow Zeta, taking the tea from their hand while the other man...the other him ...wobbled on the table and wandered around for a place to put it, on occasion glancing over his shoulder.

He knew that conspiratorial look on Zeta's face very well, after all.

--
"Aw, c'mon, Cec! Think happy thoughts!" They couldn't throw a book at him from here! "That was Peter Pan, right? It's been a while..."

He'd grabbed both of their hands, trying to pull them downward and also attempting to deftly wrap one end of the lead around their wrist - though a wobbly table made this incredibly difficult, and some of those clasps were a bit more panicked than he'd let on.

"Remember a coupla' songs? 'When I hear the drummer, get me in the grooooove~ When I hear the guitar, makes me want to mooove~'" His own voice had dipped into a murmur then, seemingly VERY aware of Aldo, too. "Or the Tom Lehrer stuff, something like that.' Poooiiisoning pigeons in the paaark~'"
*

Cecille 25-May-21 08:17 PM
Aldo brought around a lot of uncomfortable thoughts and memories and feelings of abandonment. Even when Zeta was standing right there, clambering up onto the rickety table—the Square sucked a "careful" in through their teeth. It was different. It was odd. They looked back to Aldo, a furrow of concentration and the obvious signs that they were chewing the inside of their cheek. Maybe trying to judge on looks alone how long it'd been since he'd last eaten. "...He tends to make sure I add a little variety to my Vendybar Diet." They didn't look any worse for wear, so Zeta must be doing something right. There was the slightest pithy edge, as if to ward off any apology he was trying to formulate. No, they wouldn't take pity. It made their stomach turn.

Instead, they gripped that hand tightly, dropping their tea to Aldo and then grabbing the second hand. A little kick-off against the ceiling (bringing a light dusting of stucco down with them) and a flail of their legs, they shifted one grip further down to grab at Zeta's elbow. His unsteady wobbling wasn't helping, and as Cecille floated like a lazy helium balloon, the grabs jerked them back and forth in the air with another worried inhale, a testy "please".

They slowed to a lazy, twisting bob. No books to throw, but another quick glance to Aldo came the confession that they did, in fact, recall several of the songs he'd sung over the years.

Zeta sung two lines, and there was a long pause. Cecille's jaw worked, and their lips moved, but they couldn't quite put a voice behind it. They mouthed something that looked like 'can you feel the magic', but they were well aware they didn't have the vocal range for that—their voice cracked in a whisper and they hissed. Zeta suggested something else in a whisper, and they recognized that name, a breathy laugh escaping. It was another agonizingly long beat after he tested a few lines, that Square picked up after his.
>
"When they see us coming,
The birdies all try and hide.
But they still go for peanuts,
When coated with... cyyan-iide.~"

Tom Lehrer's near-speaking voice suited their's much better, sung very low (and much closer to 'on key' than 'Can You Hear the Music' had any hope of being, coming from them), and with another furtive glance Aldo's way, then back to Zeta. They really hoped their skin was dark enough to hide the embarrassment they felt in their cheeks.

They weren't sure if it worked. Or was working? All of this Dance Vibe stuff was continuous, and all they could do was think 'that way' during those scarce few lines and hope. They thought they felt themself 'propel' after Zeta at a downward angle, drifting past him but still tethering themself by his hands and by the rope he'd looped around their wrist. A little "ah...!" of glee. Something had worked. They tried to reach for the floor next. Think 'down', picture the sensation of falling, anyth—

WOMP. They fell like a brick, as if gravity had suddenly been turned back on like a lightswitch.

Zeta 26-May-21 06:03 PM
"Good. Good, yeah. I'm...glad he. I? Hell. I'm glad he does. It sounds...better." He only heard snatches whatever the fuck Cornell thought he was putting together, but whatever it was, it probably meant food had remained a little rough to come by. Zeta hadn't answered all of Aldo's questions - he'd barely been here a couple hours after all and he knew his own Cagey Behavior when he saw it - but Aldo could fill in the blanks. Cornell was a pissy, weird little shit; perfect 'frontman' ego. And Zeta had a vibe and had to eat, after all. The best of them would give in, eventually.

But did it have to mean he'd leave Ceci behind?

When he put the tea away, he remained at a distance, but couldn't help but look back even when he pretended he wasn't. Both Zeta and Ceci could probably call him out on it in an instant, but luckily they seemed too preoccupied to notice for now.
---

"Don't look at him, look at me," was a murmur only for Cecille, a hum of a suggestion, followed by a "yeah! Yeah, y'got it, Cec..." in quiet encouragement at their first attempt at the Stones.

But that smirk crept right on back and those sparks came back into his eyes with giddy animation when Ceci did settle on that next suggestion with a laugh, and he picked up the rest of the verse where they dropped it, even venturing to swing their hands as if they were dancing and their respective feet were all in the proper places to do so.

"The sun's shining bright
Everything seems all right
When we're poisoning pigeons in the park~"

And he outright grinned, shifting his weight on the dangerously wobbling table to accommodate their now driven drift, and even barked a little encouraging "HAH, yeah, Cec, there y'go! We're just dancing. Nothing weird about it. 'We've gained notoriety/And caused much anxiety~..." But he trailed, as their drift suddenly lead beyond the reach of the table - and PLUNGED.

And he made to shift his grip within that split-second and re-catch them* before they hit the ground or brained themself on the corner of that table - but while it was fast (one could say at lightning-speed!) it was a move entirely graceless, and he moved in such a way that the jump sent the table tumbling, and carried the man off the table in a horrible stumble that nearly wiped out entirely - likely scaring the ever-loving HELL out of the other Aldo in the room if one asked; he certainly came running forward with a curse and a shout, at a crouch at the pair's side already looking them over and checking after any possible injury.

Ceci was caught, but barely!

Cecille 28-May-21 08:05 PM
There was a need to snark at Aldo. A 'yes I suppose'. They were getting by. Zeta was keeping them together, if at a distance. They shot a few more furtive glances Aldo's way, but he was keeping to himself and they concentrated on... Getting the heck off this ceiling.

---

Zeta got the briefest squeeze of his fingers at the suggestion. They would have had a little more room to laugh at themself if there wasn't an Audience. It was familiar and alien to have Aldo there; if they could fumble through a tone-deaf rendition of Poisoning Pigeons in the Park in front of Zeta, surely they could do that in front of Aldo.

He didn't get any more singing just then, but instead they laughed at the ridiculousness of it all. It was raw, unsteady but genuine. "I think this would be a bit easier if..." They kept their eyes from jumping to Aldo again, concentrating on attempting to control their movements. That wobble, dip, slow descent and PLUMET.

Cecille came crashing down with Zeta, almost smacking against the edge of the table, only to end up tangled in the Mafioso's grip instead. The entire rickety structure of the table flipped with them, collapsing loudly and certainly alerting Cecille's 'downstairs neighbours' to trouble, if the banditos were so inclined to escalate it. The Square slammed into Zeta's chest, softer than hiding the floor directly but no less disorienting and eliciting a few choice words including a resounding "Bhenchod."

They barely had their wits about them, scrambling for enough leverage to push themself up. "Are you all right?" He'd taken the worst of all of that. If Zeta wasn't holding on too tight, he'd feel them start to float upwards again. This was getting exasperating.

And the sound of feet on the stairs leading down to the old restaurant lobby.

Zeta 29-May-21 05:41 PM
If Cecille had some choice, explosive Gujarat...they were party to a shout and then a flurry of the absolute most colorfully obscene Spanish, choked back in a pained, small growl. The poor downstairs neighbors might've contended with a noticeable surge in their electronics. He sat, slowly, tying the other end of the lead around his wrist like he was a child with a balloon. Gingerly he tried to sit up, seeking hold on Ceci once more; nothing seemed badly damaged, but he'd be feeling it hard for the week, and definitely be wearing his trademark purple and green in bruises, this time.

"Yeah. Yeah...m'fine, are YOU-! You had it, did it stop, are you..." Oh crap, they were floating again.

Aldo, meanwhile, hovered, asking a flurry of his own questions to the effect of - how do each of you feel? Should he get anything? Being the third wheel alongside himself was increasingly disorienting, and there were far too many pieces of this whole vibe-situation he still didn't have. And THAT was among the most maddening factors of the situation as far as this former-Scientist was concerned!

The sound of people walking upstairs saw Zeta slump forward; he did his best to keep Ceci's hands in his, possibly fanangle an arm around their shoulders if they weren't already too far gone. "Oh, cool, we woke up the Banditos."

"The hell, BANDITOS?!" Aldo goggled at Cecille (and managed to hold the same incredulous expression as they drifted upward, with some effort) - though it was the sort of look that implied he wasn't entirely UNsurprised that Cec would room above some banditos; Aldo was certainly picturing something else than whatever was likely coming upstairs, and after looking frantically from Ceci to...Zeta, and back again. And - with sparks flaring and licks of plasma trailing in spite of some effort to maintain composure as he flew through possible stories or excuses to... meet whoever was approaching, he moved to the door. Calmly.

Calmly.

Cecille 29-May-21 09:50 PM
Cecille's swearing paled in comparison to the outbreak of Spanish, and were this not a scenario of Possible Broken Bones and Concussions, the Square would have probably laughed. Instead, they hovered (figuratively, this time), sitting up with him and not really noting the lack of personal space. "Are you sure—don't worry about that, did you hit your head?" They couldn't fend off that urge to Doctor, and reached out unprompted to touch his jaw, then checking the back of his head for blood--even as the feeling of weightlessness overtook them again and they drifted lazily upwards. The noise that left the Doctor's mouth next was absolutely exasperated. Zeta had them by the hands again, and that prevented them from floating very far, their buoyancy more like the gentle tug of a helium balloon; the force was easily counteracted.

They assured Aldo's barrage of questions in the meantime, trying to bring their feet back down to the floor in what was proving to be some downright Ridiculous yoga poses, body nearly inverting and contorting before Zeta got an arm around their shoulders.

"Of course we did." Their voice was hushed, but no less irked, returning Aldo's stare with pursed lips. They added, even quieter: "They moved in after I took the upstairs... They're usually not a bother. But. Ah..." There was a Look to Zeta, and then back again to Aldo. One obvious, down-on-their-luck Square was ONE thing. But a clearly well-off Mafioso out of his District? And his younger, bedraggled doppleganger in a labcoat? ...This would cause problems.

The audible clunking of two sets of feet up the stairs became louder, and Cecille made another hushed addition: "I should mention that lock has been inoperable since I found this place." Oops.

"You still up here, jamdeaf?" The Bandito didn't sound exactly pleased, and pushed the door open roughly.

Zeta 05-Jun-21 07:09 PM
Between 'Zeta''s briefing and Aldo's own increasingly-paicked observations about where he'd ended up, he might not have really gleaned the dynamics of...what this society had fully become (especially knowing which former co-workers had wrested control), but it wasn't an incredible leap to determine 'science is bad.' That coat was balled up and pitched frantically at the table; static had ensured it stuck very oddly - to be thrashed at and crammed under that toppled table by the nearby Zeta - who somehow managed to succeed while also trying to keep Ceci somewhat anchored and allow himself Doctored all at once (though he'd insist rather poorly that he was fine!)

Which left the poor doppleganger from the past the only one on his feet.

Aldo managed to reach the door and JUST managed to avoid getting clobbered by it as it swung open. very tall and very frazzled nerd looking incredibly out of his depth, popping with vibe and sprawling with forced leisure across the doorway in a very, very faded Forty Licks shirt and a little more denim that was typically acceptable for his age.

He looked back at the pair briefly, a 'little-help?' expression flitting through sparking eyes, though that same stare flicked very quickly back to the door.

"Yeaaaaah! Yeah they're. Up. Very up. Here. The jamdeaf is up here. Hello."

Cecille 05-Jun-21 10:55 PM
Cecille, with no real control yet over their own movements, bobbed and wobbled around disjointedly as Zeta manhandled them and the labcoat. This was making Doctoring particularly difficult, and he nearly ended up with an elbow to the face as they tried to steady themselves. This entire situation was entirely too grabby and discombobulating; it all just resulted in them awkwardly faceplanting into his chest. They huffed, trying to blow their hair out of their face, and turned to watch the door. "There's a...! Pan..." Oh yes, a pan. Their entire livelihood and personal safety rested on a very out-of-place piece of kitchenware near the door, of course.

The Square froze when Aldo inserted himself in harm's way, a barely audible breath hitching in their throat. It was still Zeta, after all.

"Nice shirt!" The unfamiliar voice of one of the banditos piped up, coming from the second body, standing a few steps back from the 'dito that had roughly shoved the door open. His voice sounded genuine, and he flashed Aldo a thumbs up.

"Yeah, AC/DC's all right," the closer 'dito snarked, annoyed. He was trying to lean around Aldo's arms to get a better look into the room. "Hi. We only gave permission t' one boarder." Regardless that Cecille had been here first. The bandito was trying to point past Aldo at Cecille—Aldo, at least, looked scruffy enough to be another Square, but his eyes fixed on Zeta. Green, unfamiliar.

"I don't know who YOU are, but we were here first." There was a swirl of shadow that hovered like a thin aura just off his extended arm, and he tried to push Aldo back. "Outa the way. Family reunion, pops?" It was compromising enough. If he didn't budge, the shadowy bandito would throw his weight against Aldo, a move that caused the light to dim--but in a more abstract way from Zeta's vibe, the general Ambiance dipping momentarily.

Zeta 06-Jun-21 05:45 PM
Both Aldo and Zeta (rather embarrassingly) mouthed as-one, somewhat incredulously, "A pan?!" But each was at least somewhat mercifully spared the sight of the other doing it.

Aldo wasn't entirely sure what to have expected when presented with "Banditos" "defense pan" "lock's broken" and "science bad," but two surly downstairs neighbors probably wasn't all that far off. At least the people that appeared at the door seemed suitably pan-worthy, and he tensed and braced himself for any possible charging or weird vibe surprises.

His was a vibe he'd not yet fully come to understand yet; his was one he'd decided to hide around Ceci...for fear of alienating them or being snatched up by Cornell's thing and leaving them in the dirt, or allow any other weird lines to be drawn between the two former-scientists.

As it was, even something as innocent as raising both hands in defense popped and sparked, curling into the shadows with a bit more wickedness than he'd probably intended. "I'm just visiting, man." Still, he tried to at least place himself between the pair of Banditos and the pair of Scientists.

"Outa the way. Family reunion, pops?"

Aldo grinned, barely. "Oh, you mean my dad here!"

"Oh, fuck you." Emphatically. Zeta wasn't that old! But he had been fairly young when joining the project. He guessed. He didn't dare let go of Ceci, but he tried to stand up properly while hanging on, as if everything was normal and they hadn't just obliterated the table.

Aldo continued, not quite managing to slip into any tone that resembled 'relaxation,' yet. "...and his friend noticed there's been a lot of weird shit going on today, and they're trying to figure it out. They kinda' called me for help." It was a little true, at least; he was banking on whatever-this-was affecting people outside of their odd little group. Or that Vibe was...periodically weird, anyway!

Cecille 11-Jun-21 07:36 PM
A little shaming from Zeta, Cecille could brush off. But the Double Shaming got the briefest break in the anxiety of the situation for an annoyed huff, not quite a scowl, elements of an eyeroll. "They took the crowbar..." They worked with what they had.

As Aldo tried to figure out what to expect, there was an obvious desperation in Cecille's attempts to ground themself well enough to be of use, to escape. Despite the ridiculousness of a name like 'banditos', it clearly had the ex-scientist Spooked. They managed to touch their down, knees straight and legs splayed like a hilarious rendition of Square breakdancing, or someone who had just put on ice-skates for the first time (8). Awkwardly straddled over Zeta, they started trying to pull him to his feet; the were both stranded prone, flat footed, not at all in an adequate position to fight off Banditos. "Can I kick your doppleganger for implying we are old?" Zeta stood; Cecille still bounced and bobbled like a moon walker, but they'd stabilized.

The Dito up front glowered between Aldo and Zeta at the explanation, but the sleepier one standing a step behind, brightened up. "Oh, right on, lil jamdeaf! You got a vibe!" For his enthusiasm, he was immediately smacked by his friend. "Sorry, sorry."
>
"You're not welcome here." The Head Dito pointed past to Zeta, who looked a heck of a lot more Authoritative than the (former) jamdeaf and the lame band-tshirted Square. "N' you've overstayed." A point to Cecille. "My vibe's on the fritz, and I'm in a bad mood. OUT."

As they were (mostly) tethered to Zeta, Cecille didn't have much wiggle room to dodge, but deadpanned instead a stagewhispered: "I think I am being evicted."

The head bandito had his eyes on Zeta and danced across the floor, light on his toes and ending with a low sweeping motion of his leg to trip them up. The payoff was a lacklustre streak of that same shadow as he swung that leg around in a graceful return to form, and then a fist; if it connected, the sensation sent a wave of disorientation and blindness. (Darkness Manipulation -- 4)

The second 'dito looked to Aldo, shrugging nonchalantly. "Sorry. Shirt is cool, though." Rather than hit him directly, the man twirled on the spot before slamming his own foot down. The contact sent a shockwave of kinetic energy Aldo's way. (Kineti-Telekinesis -- 12)
Rigby 14-Jun-21 07:13 PM
Ceci managed to hoist themself down; despite the very real danger and the overall awkward nature of their landing, Zeta did manage to catch them, accepted their help to both end up on their feet again, and even nudged them with a quiet and rather inappropriately encouraging nudge wobble of a half-shrug and a "y'hear that, even the bandito's cheering y'on!" Then added, in that same tone, all at once mischievous and yet wholly terse. "Be my guuuuueeeest~ Gotta' remember I was pretty clueless then!" Aside from the whole...science and engineer bit.

He still didn't let go.

And just shy of doing something utterly insane like Launching A Floating Cecille At The Ditos (never!), he was rather stuck, though while he moved, he would continuously place himself in between both groups.

"...would you two care if I say the boss sent me?" Probably not.

The darkness was easy enough to handle - or at least Zeta figured it would be. At the first sign of steps, he countered it with a few of his own, stilted slightly on account of hauling a whole human - taking the punch rather gamely (7) and swung a (bright and sparking) fist to the guy's torso. (12)

Aldo nearby yelped a "Woah! Woahwoahwoahwoah this is....liiiiittle much?!"

Zeta hummed an, "I can get them another table!" (As if the table itself was the issue!) It was a remark Aldo had to Strongly Glare at another in order to quell any further simmering quips about the quality OF said table. But really, if the thing couldn't hold one-to-two grown humans of moderate-to-towering height as they'd both come crashing down from a sudden freak Vibe-induced collision, then really - what good was it?

Unfortunately Zeta had stepped back, pressing his free hand to his temples, giving his head a shake like a dog in attempt to clear the stars and dark from his own vision. The lack of quips tragically wasn't intentional.

"Wait. Shit vibe too, huh?" He'd not been listening quite as intently to earlier broadcasts as Cec had been. If it came for him again, would he be down an Aldo? Could Aldo be hit? Bit of a rough time to get scrambled...

--

"Sorry. Shirt is cool, though."

A little shrug, vague hand-gesture, a head-bob and raise of both eyebrows from Aldo could've been a 'yeah, it's cool' - but whether he planned to actually voice that was never known as he was rather bluntly hit by the second Bandito's wave.

He hadn't a clue that Vibe had been refined into dance battles, had only just begun to have an idea of how much of a generator he was, himself. And it meant absolutely squat here - and so poor Aldo was rather suddenly whipped off his feet at that foot slam, if not outright sent into any nearby walls or over (or through) any furniture behind him, the impact accentuated rather cheerfully with showers of sparks and the remaining lights flickering sickly. (edited)

Cecille 18-Jun-21 08:32 PM
It was a humorous struggle between the two of them to Get Righted, Cecille grabbing at the lapel of his jacket once their feet were (relatively) on the ground, and grateful to have his arm to keep them steady. Great Minds Thought Alike—or they were both at least equal amounts of batshit—because launching a floating Square at the ditos had also crossed their mind as well, and they'd shot it down only on the grounds that they didn't have their crowbar.

"What does clueless have to do with common decency, I'm--...well, you are not that old..." Their grip tightened an iota, defensively, and their frown creased heavier as they tilted their head back to look down that hawkish nose at the approaching Bandito. It was at once both protective of the taller man, possessive, and with a modicum of anxiety rarely seen and only reserved for where Zeta was involved. It played in the way their droopy eyes quickly darted from the attacker to the door, to the window, lips subtly twitching on a possible strategy to get them out of this mess.

And he blinked at Zeta's 'argument', a "Wh—yeah, this guy's not a bandito," stage-whispered to his partner. "We've got no boss, that's the point, 'dad'." The dito with an attitude problem had closed in fast, his fist glancing off of Zeta with an enraged growl, echoed by a sucked hiss from Cecille. "It's not supposed to do that," was his answer. Evidently his vibe was acting a Little Funny, and he pirouetted two steps too slow to try and put space between them again—only to turn right back into Zeta's fist (2 to avoid a 12--critical success). He went down, hard, crashing to the floor and sprawling backwards. If Cecille wasn't currently being bobbled around in the thick of it, there might have been a follow-up. But they doubted they could get a kick in without the movement sending them floating off in the opposite direction.
>
"Are you all right?" They instinctively reached up a hand, long fingers hovering and hesitant, but Cecille barely had time to check how well Zeta had shaken off that punch. "He really has no idea," they breathed, eyes quickly on Aldo backing away from the situation. No, no he wouldn't, and it could get him killed—and what would that do? The doctor's chest seized in an odd anamnesis; they sucked in a breath as Aldo crashed into a cheap, wire-framed futon. And then to the floor. It was mostly a memory making them think they could feel the sparks he gave off, little hot dots of plasma, from across the room as the lights strained. And then a hand against Zeta's chest, that same familiar feeling; only for them to push suddenly to put the maximum distance between them that his protective hold would allow.

"I am holding you back; throw me to him." Zeta couldn't fight properly while tethering them; they didn't think they could walk—properly—but they'd figure out this vibe thing while mid-launch if they had to, and Aldo stood a slightly better chance with them. Right?

Goodness, he was just as they remembered, and that thought still held hot and tight in their chest.

Aldo's bandito (fair-haired and surfery) had started to approach him, but turned when he realized his friend was on the ground. "Woah, hey, you good bro?" The dark-vibed one groaned from the floor, rather out of it still. That left one, and the way he shuffled his feet, playing low to the ground, his thing was heavy steps and formidable kinetic energy. The young Aldo seemed feeble. The older Zeta, 'dad', was the dangerous one, clearly.
Rigby 27-Jun-21 10:01 PM
moreno: "I mean. If you needed an excuse to hit him. Me. ...him!" He only gave them a Look when they'd implied he wasn't that old. And then grinned, nudging them playfully with the arm and shoulder he'd already been using to keep them grounded.

One Bandito went down, hard - but Zeta had little chance to crow about it - and indeed was preoccupied in an awkward sort of a dance that involved stepping back, keeping a hand on Cec, and staying upright. Keeping them safe, and keeping the whole thing rhythmic was a struggle.


"M'fine." Then added, a little nervously, "He really doesn't. Won't for a while." He wouldn't know what rules this flare's effect ran on - but he wasn't keen on finding out whether 'getting your younger self killed' had any long-term consequences. And he'd not long to worry about it before Cecille was pushing off against him.

"I am holding you back; throw me to him."

"Throw you?!" It probably would have been a more compelling bark of incredulity if he'd not also been thinking something along those lines - and there was a sparking, utterly wicked look in his eyes that betrayed just as much, one that was a little more relieved that they were on the same page.

"Right, yeah, I got you, what were you thinking? Wind up like I'm throwing a javelin? Like we're in a circus?" It was a snort in spite of everything - and then he added in a murmur that was a little more strained despite his best intention to hide the fact. "Just...float back up soon's you can, all right?"

And then he started singing again, shifting his grip and moving Ceci to the beat of his song as if he was terribly insistent on making their respective shifting gravities into an odd ballroom dance. But his eyes were locked on the remaining Stepper - now more properly gauging the man's vibe, and how his vibe played into his steps and his movement.

”We've gained notoriety
And caused much anxiety
In the Audubon Society
With our games - ALLEY-OOP, CEC!"

It was enough of a wind-up and a warning for them - right before he grinned, hoisted Ceci up like a gleefully demented acrobat, and flung his scientific partner in their desired direction!

-

Aldo's ears were ringing, his head was swimming, and he wasn't sure if he was looking at the stars in his vision or his own sparks for a moment, or whether those dimmed lights were his doing or his own vision. He moaned a little "fuuuuuuuuuck..." And then a more-distinct "Cec?" at first, barely audible over the rest of the burgeoning chaos, as he struggled very slowly and shakily to pull himself up on that futon as the world gradually decided to right itself behind him.

After lurching a few times first, of course. So THAT was a Bandito. Well. Huh. Banditos were kind of the worst! (edited)
Tupperbox BOT 27-Jun-21 10:01 PM
There was an error performing the operation. Please report this to the support server if issues persist. (50035)

Cecille 03-Jul-21 07:08 PM
Were the situation not so Tense, that might have garnered more than the amused side-smirk they shot him between staring down the banditos.

"He really doesn't. Won't for a while."

"I admit, this is... uncomfortable. Seeing this." For him? The Fight was still Looming. They might have said more. "Honestly I have no—that may work?" It was ridiculous, but they were currently easier to lift than they'd ever been. His concern got a little squeeze of the hand he was anchoring them with.

Cecille was an awkward choice of dance partner on the best days, but now they could hardly keep their feet on the ground (that sounded a lot more Whimsical than it actually was). They took weird, floaty little steps as Zeta tried to gather vibe and momentum; it was hard to tell if they'd gained any rhythm with their new vibe, when they couldn't even touch down properly. Still, if there was anything to be said in their favour, it was that—one—at least they couldn't step on his toes, and two—they were absolutely purposeful, eyes on Aldo from a far, as if mentally working out the exact trajectory they needed to Fly to get to him.

They shared a buoyant little ballroom twirl, and Cecille snorted when Zeta launched back into singing. They didn't quite join in (he only managed a few lines before launching them), but a hum burst forth from their throat, just enough in-tune before abruptly cutting with an "oh—".
There was a brief moment as they reached out their arms and tried to steady themself in the air, doing an awkward summersault from the momentum and sailing lazily past the more competent bandito (who uttered a way too delighted "dude!"). They still hadn't gotten 'steering' down and did start to drift upwards towards the ceiling, but Zeta's throw had been enough to get them in the right direction, just as Aldo was sitting up.

"I'm here." It would have been a more Assuring answer if they didn't immediately latch onto his shoulders, but he and the futon were the only things within reach to keep them from drifting right past. They hovered in the air above him. "I don't suppose you can get my frying pan? Are you all right?" They assumed this was just as weird for him as it was for them. This Aldo was young. The Cecille weirdly hovering with a vibe they shouldn't have was old. Jaded, still quietly determined and trying to help him get back up onto his feet. Like Zeta, they didn't want to know what would happen if Aldo got 'deleted' from the timeline.

The blond 'dito had paused to applaud Cecille's less-than-graceful display of vibe, but didn't ultimately see them or Aldo as a threat. He could be jovial and kind, and an absolute ass, and he turned on Zeta with a bit of glee. He came at Zeta with a loose leg move, a quick kind of shuffle indicative of house dance. It ended on a clap-stomp, clap-STOMP as he approached, the final two moves each releasing a kinetic wave towards Zeta that caused everything loose on the walls and counters to clatter loudly, and the floors to briefly vibrate ([6,3] 9).

Zeta 04-Jul-21 11:13 AM
Aldo barely had time to process his older-self singing and Cecille coming right at him; reflexively he clasped onto their arms just as they'd latched onto his shoulders.

"Oh, hey, Cec!"

If the situation had been uncomfortable at a distance, this reprieve was enough for Aldo to attempt to soak it in and piece together what it had all meant. The Vibe clearly hadn't gone anywhere. Neither had they.

"All things considered...think I'm okay. I'm...really happy to see you. And him." The tone barely hinted that he'd worried, otherwise - he was from a point where he wasn't quite human anymore and insistently hiding it, and they still were. His voice was small, almost a groan and entirely without his characteristic 'showbiz.' Being thrown unceremoniously into a bizarre future he'd had a hand in making, seeing himself and his best friend, and promptly getting clobbered by a "bandito" would do that to a person, he'd figured.

But Aldo recovered quickly and insistently, meeting their eyes with a breathless half-smile, and a tiny head bob of affirmation. "Think a crowbar'd suit y'better." Still carefully (and somewhat desperately, as if under the impression that if he'd let go, he'd lose them for good) he held onto them, and would carry and guide them along if necessary as he'd reach for that frying pan and hand it to them. "Could get a good swing with this thing!"

He couldn't help but sneak little glances back to the person on his arm the whole time. There were questions upon questions, worries upon fears bubbling up just behind that expression, poorly concealed and eagerly waiting to spill out of him. It was just utterly the wrong time to do it, and he dropped it in favor of a, "...I don't throw you back, do I?"

Zeta 04-Jul-21 11:48 AM
*"They call it impiety
And lack of propriety
And quite a variety
Of unpleasant names~!" *

The song was a victory cry, only unleashed when Ceci had landed relatively safely with...the other-him. Zeta figured he'd be ready for this next round - even with the glorious distraction of a Square flying through the air to Tom Lehrer, he figured he wouldn't have long. So even after squaring his stance, plasma violently flaring to life and lacing his arms now that they were free.

And still that wave hit, stunting that initial prep and unseating Zeta enough to grip at the nearest counter instead. (Defense [5, 3] 8 vs 9)

"Shit, man, you're gonna' take the building down, how about you DON'T? I'll take'em and go, how about that!"

He spun back to his feet after a moment and with control, released the charge in the Bandito's direction. He wasn't going to smear the building with fried Bandito, and this long into practicing his vibe, he had enough of a sense to dial his charges down to something that could incapacitate. ([6, 1] 7)

Cecille 10-Jul-21 08:51 PM
"Oh, hey, Cec!"

Cecille breathed a little laugh, with no hand free to muffle it, attempting to pull themself down to a reasonable height. If that wasn't the most nonchalant response—well, perhaps he was completely out of it from getting thrown across the room. Disassociating from how Ridiculous the situation was.

"It's..." The Square paused awkwardly, but their expression was significant. Aldo brought about a sense of wistfulness. Remorse, perhaps. Realizing he might read too much into the silence, they pushed themself into speaking. "It's good to see you too. In an odd way. You're... different. The situation is different." They didn't know if he'd remember, or did remember, this encounter, and their eyes momentarily drifted to watch Zeta; still singing and taking way too much delight in fighting Banditos.

"It will get better. ...Not right away. I do get angry, when everything comes to light, when it falls apart. And I'm sorry. ...Also you end up taking back what you said about Cornell." That last part may or may not have been true.

The doctor pursed their lips, but only for a moment before cracking a forced smile. "It will have to do unless I get it back," meaning the lost crowbar. They could see Aldo burning up with questions. This was the absolute worst time, but they gave him a small opening, watching Zeta guardedly in case they had to jump back in. "...You may have to. He is having far too much fun." They cut short a laugh, their voice dipping in an assuring tone. "...You get quite good at handling yourself, eventually. ...But I don't think I get any less... Ah..." They paused to consider the word, reaching out a free hand for that fryingpan. "Overprotective."
>
Zeta finally had his arms free to use his vibe properly; Cecille wasn't about to mess that up by flying back his way, so they were quick to scan the room for alternatives. Aldo was hesitant to fight back, but this older Cecille looked just as ready to smack someone with a fryingpan as they had been with a crowbar. Which meant he might have to be their tether to get them close enough.

---

"Duuude, you think I could? My vibe's been BANGIN' all day." The flare had done WONDERS. The blond 'dito had a wide grin as he cracked his knuckles and then his neck. His attack had knocked Zeta off balance, and he took a wide stance in preparation of a return attack. Whistled at the curls of plasma, even as the attack came barreling down on him; crossing his arms superheroly in front of his head, he took the brunt of it rather than try to dodge ([2,2] 3 versus 7). He'd hoped to keep his footing, but it ended up knocking him off-centre, and he tumbled backwards with a shout and landed on the floor, looking properly singed and grinning like a loon as he sat up. "Cool green lightning, bro. That your usual vibe or uhhh like, whatever this is." He paused to gesture vaguely at 'The Flares'. "Slick your hair back n' put on a suit, call yerself Frankie Valentine." Zeta got the jauntiest of fingerguns from the bandito's spot on the floor, having landed near his friend. Apparently that hadn't been enough to deter him though, and he smacked one hand on the floor, using that to flip himself over and, kicking his leg high, swing himself back to his feet. All in one fluid motion that transitioned seamlessly into fingersnaps and the twister, an outward-swinging house dance move.
>
Rather than a one-two-three, this time he interrupted his own snaps with one massive THUD, heel slamming down and sending a wave so massive the entire building rattled--the glass cover for the ceiling light came unhooked and CRASHED against the floor, each and every cabinet clattering open to dump whatever leftover dishes had been discarded there last. Somebody downstairs screamed, and no doubt (by the sounds) that single attack had done considerably more damage to the floor beneath them, though no massive cracks yawned open through the carpet yet. That entire force directed at Zeta. He was less concerned about 'pulling punches'. ([6, 6] 12—50/100 structural damage)

Zeta 11-Jul-21 11:41 AM
moreno: Cecille had paused, but Aldo was fairly in-tune with that expression, even if his own was still vastly and openly curious and still somewhat bewildered, no doubt reconciling the little science-punk Cec he knew with this down-on-their-luck mature adult he was trying very stubbornly to keep from floating away - and the scope of what they were saying among the sheer madness of the whole situation.

Everything he had known, everything around him had started to fragment at the tower incident...and if what Cec was saying was true, so would they.

It was an oddly ominous prospect, yet one that at least didn't seem to have been where it ended.

"I'm sorry."

It did feel a little strange - no doubt the older 'Zeta' had already apologized, right? But the prospect of things getting worse still loomed like an oncoming storm for this Aldo, and unconsciously he adjusted his grip on the floating doctor as if the mere mention of a falling-out would spirit them away, too. He did snort a bit when they'd mentioned Cornell. and wobble his head in slight affirmation, before glancing over at Zeta. "I don't...know what I'll say or what I'll do. Probably going to be a fucking jackass.

"If this isn't...one-of-only-many futures, or I'm just losing my damn mind, or however this flares thing is working, I guess that...feels good to see that the things brought him...brought me back, before, still keeps bringing him back."

They shared a Look once the frying pan was spotted, one that slid from Ceci's eyes to the pan itself.

If there was a way slide unnoticed by any hostile Banditos while still maintaining the utmost sincerity in his words and unpacking his thoughts, Aldo did manage it with surprising ease all things considered; he spoke even as he quietly led his tethered friend over to the pan. A hug might have been slightly too much to attempt with their relative positioning, but a smaller Zeta was still a Zeta, boisterous and handsy, and would try a hug around their shoulders, anyway.

"Cec...I didn't mean to hurt you, all right? None of it was; hiding the vibe...probably any stupid shit I'm about to do, 'cos...hell, even I know I'm gonna'." Aldo, making rashly impulsive choices, came with the inevitability of a freight train. "But you are...were...are the only thing I have...left. Bash'em in, Cec."

They'd part with the handle of the pan already having been slipped into Ceci's hand.

>>>