[ti]Ep 3.5[/ti]Craigslist Crawl [Avalanche]

[Cassandra Cassidy]

WEEK 2, DAY 4

Adobe Apartments, Jasper, NV

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In a simple apartment with yellowed walls, stretched out on a beige couch that had seen better days, Cassandra Cassidy flipped idly through the Internet on her phone. A series of tabs were open, fingers swiping through them like they were a series of bad Tinder profiles. At least a dozen held her attention, but one by one, she picked them off. "Too far...too expensive...too suspicious..." she muttered to herself, eyes glancing upwards to catch the odd flicker of the documentary she was watching. It was a bit overdramatic, hyping up sharks as vicious predators unmatched and untamed, but it made for good background noise.

Shifting to a sitting position, Butch put her bare feet up on the simple brown coffee table that sat in her living room. On it was an ash tray, well-used and still smoking with a half-crushed cig, and below it was a (formerly) white shag carpet with burn marks. The whole place smelled of tobacco, and a little stream of light came in through the faintly-floral curtains that sat over the windows. One wouldn't think the cleaner to live in such a dingy place, but it was home, and it was hers.

She didn't realize someone was knocking at the white wooden door (also stained yellow) to her apartment. It was only on the fourth or fifth knock that she noticed someone was there. "Coming!" the cleaner yelled, turning down the volume on her TV with the remote. Standing up, she walked over to the door, peering through the peephole and smiling at who was there. Quickly she undid the deadbolt, opening the door and standing to the side to allow her visitor in.

"Welcome back."

[Avalanche]

It wasn't always easy to park a dump truck.

As the residential streets narrowed around her, Ava's holo grumbled to herself in the cab of her own body, free of observation and obligation to be stoic about it. Of course it made sense that heavy vehicles weren't going to be running down side streets that often, and she wasn't especially welcome to stop outside houses where her wide chassis half-blocked the road. Still. It was annoying.

She pulled off the road, dusty with windblown sand, and came to a stop in a bare lot where a house had presumably once stood, but only half-hearted foundations now remained. Her brakes applied with a heavy pneumatic hiss, and the bone-shuddering rumble of her engine coughed into silence. The driver's door clunked as it opened, and Ms. Ava Larch stepped down, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

Nasty little immature human offspring with spraypaint: none in sight. So far. It had only taken one encounter with them - and the resulting drive through town plastered with unpleasant, offensive slogans that caused half the natives around her to honk horns and yell imprecations - for her to be very certain she wasn't going to put up with that again.

It was bright, through emulated human eyes. The sun beat down, the dust in the air scattered it into a bright haze, and it made her wonder how organic optical systems coped. To humans, to the occasional car swishing past, she seemed to be a short, tanned woman with slightly olive-tinged skin and long dark hair. A white tank top bared firmly muscled arms and shoulders, over many-pocketed green and grey camouflage pants and heavy black boots. Reaching into the pocket of her trousers, she pulled out the sunglasses she'd just manifested there and settled them on her nose.

Butch's place was a couple of blocks to the west. Crossing Monroe street, gravel crunching under her boots, Avalanche strode along the curb with a gait that was, unconsciously, a recognisably military one. Another car swept past, the driver shouting something through the open window, but she couldn't quite make it out.

Stepping into the scant shadow of a modest apartment building, Ava removed a key from her pocket – an actual physical piece of metal corrugated into shape to grant access – and let herself in. The stairs creaked under her as she mounted them, rising a couple of storeys to Butch's somewhat yellowing front door.

She rapped, firmly, with the back of her knuckles, then waited. And there, her best human friend: Butch. They'd spent a good deal of time in each other's company lately, as Avalanche ferried her around, but the femme knew she'd still barely scratched the surface of human interaction. Accordingly, as she marched into the human's apartment, she asked, "Are cheeks meant to be sweet? Is that a good thing?"

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"It's a figure of speech," Butch said with a little chuckle. Now that Ava and her knew each other better, Butch's body language was more open, more bright. The languidness she usually carried herself with was even smoother as she shut the door, deadbolting it again behind the holo-manifested Cybertronian. "It means someone is endearing. Or attractive. Why, did someone yell it at you?"

Butch's apartment was small and simple. Beyond the neat living room, there was a desk in one corner with an ancient computer, gathering dust and rarely turned on. A small Atari system sat in front of the TV, an unused relic of days gone by that Butch had picked up for free. There was a kitchenette with a bar behind the couch, and down from that, a hallway with a bathroom and another room. In the light from a window shining onto the kitchen counter, there were a series of figurines growing plants like hair from clay pores. Nestled among a design of rocks and sticks, Butch had explained shew grew these "Chia Pets" as a hobby, enjoying the various shapes they came in.

"How was work today?" Butch asked. Blessedly, the apartment's walls weren't thin ones, but Butch still kept her voice a little low. "Hospital was busy today. Someone's fiftieth birthday party had a bad case of food poisoning. Kept me on my feet with all the folks who couldn't stomach badly-made sushi. Who'd thought something would go wrong with raw fish in a desert?"

Here she cracked a grin at Avalanche. Very little about her cleaning job bothered Butch anymore, barring a few sad or graphic cases.

[Avalanche]

Endearing. No, that absolutely couldn't be it. She simply couldn't imagine anyone finding her endearing, under any circumstances. So it had to be attraction. Hadn't Butch said that she was attractive to humans when wet?

"It wasn't raining," she half-protested. Shrugging, she went on, "Yes. The driver of a car containing several human males, as I was walking here." It was odd to talk of walking anywhere when her main chassis was sat motionless a couple of blocks away, but her mobile holographic projector had a reasonable range.

No natives were approaching her main body yet. Good.

Switching her focus back to her avatar, the holo lost the slightly preoccupied look she'd taken on for a moment. Cocking her head, she asked, "Is raw fish poisonous? Or often poisonous?" The whole world of human food was a mystery to her. She could consume small amounts through her holo to be disposed of later, even taste to a degree, but what made it good or not – that was something she had no grasp on at all.

Latching onto what she could grasp, Ava went on, "Busy day. That a good thing? Empty days pass like millennia. When your aft is on fire with everything you have to do, that's got its own downsides, but you don't get bored."

She wandered deeper into the yellowing apartment, aimlessly poking at the chia pet pottery things. She felt, on some deep, intuitive level, she just didn't get what anyone would get from such things. But Butch evidently did, which was enough. Maybe she should obtain one for her, somehow.

A chia... truck? Was that a thing?

"I've been training. Have to be careful not to break anything. Moved and sorted some of the stores. Oversaw some rosters." Her bare shoulder rose and fall in a one-sided shrug. "The tedious grind of necessity."

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"Unfortunately, that doesn't matter to some of the males of my species," Butch said. "Some of them think women are fair game for all sorts of remarks. It's called 'catcalling'. Don't know where the term came from, or what is has to do with cats."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a box of cigarettes. Removing one, Butch lit up and stuck it inside of the corner of her mouth. "Sometimes it is," Butch replied to Ava's question, replacing her cigs and pulling out the one in her mouth. Taking a drag, she explained, "Fish has to be either really fresh and kept in proper conditions to be eaten, or cooked thoroughly to get rid of any parasites or bacteria. Neither was done, I think." She put the cigarette back in her mouth.

"Yeah, it can be. Some days are a good kind of busy, where the grind goes smoothly and the hours fly by. Other times it feels like it drags on like nails on a chalkboard. I'd say today was fine, even though most of involved cleaning up puke five minutes after I'd just mopped."

She cracked another smile, casual and good-natured. It grew as Ava poked at her Chia Pets, the woman nodding along as Ava talked. "Sounds like you could use a bit of entertainment," Butch said. "Want to run an errand with me before we head to base? I found a few things on Craigslist I'm going to make arrangements to grab. We could take the scenic route, show you a few more places around Jasper. You ever heard of a drive-in theater?"

[Avalanche]

Ava grunted, giving the weird, spongy growth atop the ceramic 'pet' another poke. So she should expect mating-based remarks even when she wasn't wet? How was she meant to navigate society when that could happen at any time? It wasn't like she had the faintest idea how to react to that kind of thing.

Half-turning her head, she watched Butch light up one of her cigarettes. She'd seen odder means of taking in nutrients or stimulants, but it was still weird to watch a human with a bundle of plant matter actively on fire lodged in their mouth. Still, as long as Butch didn't do it in her cab, where the smell and ash would linger, she wasn't going to protest.

Admittedly, Butch's day sounded awful, but then, Avalanche had never been one for the messiness of the medical profession. If setting something on fire afterwards and lodging it in her mouth helped Butch, that was fair enough.

"Sure. I'm not needed right now." Staying out a bit longer wouldn't do any harm unless there was a comm. message calling her back urgently, and that was fairly unlikely. A scenic route sounded nice, too. She was used to being underground since Canyon, but that didn't mean chances to run her drivetrain weren't welcome.

Drive-in theatre. That was... "It's an entertainment thing. You park in front of a screen in the open, and watch videos." Fictional entertainment. Movies, films, videos, premieres... had she got the word right? Too many words for what seemed to be the same concept. "You want to stop at one, we can."

Ava paused, a small frown creasing her brows. "Is this Craig trustworthy?" Butch wouldn't have spilled the nature of her request, but it never hurt to check.

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"It's more if you want to stop at one," Butch said, taking a drag. "I thought you might like to see what we have for entertainment here on Earth. Not that it'll probably reflect anything much in reality, but hey, when did popping into a shlocky movie hurt anyone?"

Butch snorted in amusement as Ava asked about "this Craig", smoke coming out of her nose in a sharp puff. Blowing out the rest from her mouth, she said, "No, no, we're not going to see a guy named 'Craig'. It's a website that lists goods and services for sale or free, usually by amateur salesmen or locals just wanting to get rid of a few things. Here."

She grabbed her phone from the table with her bad hand and stuck her cigarette in her mouth again. Gently cradling as best she could with her half-stuck fingers, she used her good hand to pull back up the tabs she'd been viewing. Holding it out for Ava to see, the Commander would get a glimpse of a simple webpage with some photos of magazines for free. They appeared to be copies of National Geographic, several volumes of which occupied a bookshelf beside the single hallway in Butch's apartment.

"I'm missing a few years from my Nat Geo collection," Butch said, having mentioned the magazine once or twice to Ava while being ferried around. "That and some other things I want to look at. It's about as trustworthy as picking up things from random strangers is, so it's good to have a second person around."

Not that Butch was concerned for her own safety, but it was good to be cautious. Especially since she was now privy to the secret of aliens living amongst humans and the shadowy organization that hunted them.

[Avalanche]

Ava hummed, a thoughtful sound, slightly surprising herself when it didn't resonate in her chest cavity as it would in her true root mode. The holo tapped her fingers on the back of a chair, reminding herself of the small, squishy projection she was inhabiting.

Anyway... a movie? Did she want to stop at one? Instinctively, she asked herself if it'd lower the opinion of the mecha under her. In this case: of course not, and also, she barely had any mecha under her. It could be educational, in human ways. It'd likely be half-incomprehensible, but sitting in her cab, Butch would be able to explain things to her. It'd mean being away from the base for longer. But unless she received a recall signal, that probably wasn't a problem...

Deep in her processor, an old, old version of herself with muddy tracks and very few responsibilities smacked her around the back of the helm and spoke up irritably. For Solus's Sake. Enough with duties. Is it going to be fun or not?

...it would probably be fun.

The muscular woman nodded to herself, then paid attention to Butch. Some kind of net-based service for selling and donating, not an individual human called Craig. Right. Oh, and apparently someone had available copies of National Geographic that Butch wanted.

While at first, Avalanche had found the collection a little odd – far too used to running lean with nothing to weigh her down – she'd quickly come to appreciate the little magazines as Butch shared them with her. Such simple things, just dots of coloured dye on fibrous sheets of pressed organic matter, but the images they formed were dazzling. So many beautiful, wonderful sights, charting the length and breadth of the fecund world she'd found herself on; far different from the quiet and dusty desert she and Butch both lived in. Perhaps it was an escape for both of them.

"Right. For National Geographic. I want to see what's in the ones you don't have," she replied with a grin. "Doubt anyone will try anything with two rough, tough humans like us. And then a cine... video. The drive-in theatre."

Sometimes, she had to actively remind herself she was capable of relaxing.

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"Of course," Butch replied. "Just remember that the knowledge in them might be a little outdated. Nat Geo publishes studies as they come, so what might be in one year could be updated or contradicted in another. Such is life when you're documenting the latest in human discovery."

Her expression mirrored Avalanche's as the latter mentioned going to the theater. Just like Ava, Butch needed to remind herself to relax. What better way to do so than showing a new companion around Jasper? Or sharing the latest in National Geographic? Truly, Butch had only met one other person who was as passionate about the magazine as she was, and that had been an ex. It was nice to have someone so actively interested in things other people thought were boring. Perhaps it was a selfish thought, but Butch wasn't social with many people, so sharing her little world like this was.... Well, she had to admit, it made her feel a little vulnerable.

"I'm ready to go when you are," Butch said. She walked over to the ash tray and, despite her cig having a decent amount left to it, she squashed it against the dusty surface of the plate. "Nothing much going on around here. Already tidied up the place, and my other job isn't expecting me. We're looking at another potential hire to share the workload, if he can last."

There was no scoff at these words, just straight facts. Butch's boss, James, had been trying to get a new guy on for months now. Every applicant was either temporary or hadn't been cut out for the work they were expected to do. The cleaning business could be hard, stomach-churning work, and not everyone could handle what they were supposed to see, smell or touch.

[Avalanche]

Ava shrugged again, a wry smile on her lips. "What was it – I read it for the pictures?" The information that attended the photographs was interesting, but for the femme, it was the printed images that held her attention. Such simple spots of dye, making complex and beautiful vistas, animals she'd never seen before, the rush and bustle of dense human cities where she wouldn't dare go. Something tangible and unchanging that she could hold in her hands. It just felt different from images on a screen that could be wiped away with a gesture, a brief ghost of photons.

"Ready to go." Turning towards the door, the muscular holowoman nodded her assent, fully aware of why Butch was extinguishing her cigarette and appreciating it. They still had a couple of blocks to walk before they reached her main chassis – attracting a couple of irritable looks from passing humans who apparently didn't like a random dump truck parked on the vacant lot, nothing more serious – but putting it out now sent a signal that she was being considerate of Avalanche's wishes.

The door clacked shut behind them, and Ava set off down the stairs, the wood creaking beneath her heavy boots. She was sure she'd adjusted the projection's apparent mass according to the records of the original woman she'd accessed, so she shouldn't be too heavy for the stairs, but their creaking and groaning made her second guess herself.

Sunlight broke over the two as they emerged outside, dust coiling in a brief little mimicry of a tiny hurricane. "Some jobs, you don't know if they'll be any good until you face them with it. Got better at catching it early with time, but there's always surprises. Can be fine with a dozen things, then one other thing you never thought to even bother mentioning cracks them."

Sandy gravel shifted under her boots as she adjusted her sunglasses to better shade her from the direct light, then set off down the roadside.

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"You got it. I see you're picking up on human turns of phrase quite nicely," Butch said, a wry smile hooking her lips. "You'll be a pro at English colloquialisms in no time."

She followed after Ava, locking the door behind her and checking it once more before leaving. The metal "24" on top of the door was brushed lightly with the fingers of her good hand. It was a sort of good luck ritual for Butch, who did it every time she left as if to assure herself her apartment would still be there. She'd spent years living rough or couch-surfing, and the experience of being homeless had never quite left her. Without a word, she continued down after the holotar.

"Tell me about it," Butch said, coming to keep pace beside Ava. "This one guy we had never told us he was phobic of rats. We deal with rat infestations almost all the time. The first hoarder's house we went to, he literally ran screaming out of there when we disturbed a nest on top of some old trash. I don't blame him for getting scared - a phobia is a phobia, after all - but in our line of work, you can't have these kinds of things."

She sighed, exiting out of the building into a dusty world of red sand, grit, and bright sunlight. "The crew has really been slugging it lately. They bought why I needed some time off, but it'll be good when James puts me back to work. I don't like the thought of leaving them hanging - they've all got their own things to deal with."

[Avalanche]

"You betcha," Ava replied experimentally, trying what seemed to be a casual slang affirmative. It felt awkward in her vocoder. Or... on her tongue, she supposed, since she was embodying in her holo. Solus's grace, it was weird to think about having a fleshy tongue.

...how did you stop thinking about your fleshy tongue?

Focusing on Butch, she watched the human woman stroke the numbers on her door, and discreetly didn't show she'd noticed the habit. It was a touchstone of a sort, something almost everyone she knew had in some form of another. Something to cling to.

It wasn't surprising to hear Butch remark on her reluctance to leave her team on their own. "Leave's like that," Ava remarked as they headed down the street, her main body performing a series of unobtrusive stretches in readiness; driveshaft twitching a little, slight shifts back and forth of her tyres. "There's always something you have your optic on and can't let go of. Either because you've got responsibility towards the people who are handling business in your place, or else because you know damn well that if you're not there, someone's going to do it wrong."

The thought of getting in gear and driving down to pick up Butch and her own holo was... tempting. But not enough to overrule her own common sense. That would be a breach of orders, one carried out in an area where she was likely to be seen, and if she'd caught someone under her even contemplating it, she'd have busted their aft down to platoon trash sorting. She gave an unprompted little laugh, shaking her head. Couldn't judge other mecha harsher than she'd judge herself.

Her polished sunstacks were bright and reflective in the sunlight, shining like a beacon even through the darkness of her sunglasses. Ava quickened her pace a little, quite contented to get her holo back where it should be. Planting one boot on the sideboard, she swung herself up, knocking dust off her boots. The door opened under her hand without her bothering to pantomime looking for keys. Within, her cab was cool and refreshing, her air conditioning plant having been running while she waited in the hot sun.

"Right. What's our first destination?" she asked Butch as the other woman climbed into the opposite side of the cab.

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"I trust my team to do everything right," Butch said. "They're experienced, capable, and hard-working. I've seen them sort out some of the toughest messes you can imagine. The responsibility part is what keeps my mind on them."

It felt good to talk about her worries with someone. Butch was prone to holding everything inside until something caused her to break, which wasn't often. She had her cigarettes, her magazines, her solitude - little things that helped her cope with things to keep the pressure off her shoulders. Talking, though, was a release she didn't know she needed until she opened her mouth.

When they approached Avalanche's true form, Butch let out a low whistle. "Looking good," she said, stopping to admire the vehicle in all its polished glory. "You get a chance to go to a carwash?" She cocked her head, a small smile forming on her face before she went for the passenger door. Butch was careful as she opened it, knocking the dust off her boots as well and climbing in delicately. She didn't want to scuff or disturb any of Ava's new look.

"First we're going to look at some spare electronics," Butch said. She pulled out her phone and switched to her emails, using her data to pull up the address. That was one thing Butch invested in more than anything else: a good data plan with lots of bytes to spare. "Lamps, a toaster, that sort of thing. You might find something for the base there - who knows." The cleaner then read off the address after finding the right email.

[Avalanche]

A shared bond; not to each other, but of responsibility to those that worked under them. That was one of the first things that helped make her and Butch friends, Avalanche supposed. They were literally worlds apart, but they found things in common to talk about, and ways to empathise with each other no matter how different the specific circumstances.

Taken off-balance by the casual remark about her polished finish, she grunted something non-committal as they boarded her. The dump truck's huge engine growled into life, with a thrumming, subterranean rumble through her whole frame, and as her local mapping system latched onto the address – she'd had to download information about the base's near environs – her holo seized on the gear lever and pushed it into reverse.

Rolling back off the lot, she turned out onto the street, then shifted gears and set off, feeling the familiar heat of her engine pleasantly simmering inside her as it ran.

"-I was polished," she remarked after a moment. "It was a favour. Sunstreaker. Was under my command, long time ago. Always was vain. Polishes herself and anything that stands still long enough." There was a trace of gruffness to her voice that could almost be embarrassment.

[Cassandra Cassidy]

"Oh, really?" Butch said. "That must've been nice. Is this a thing your people do often, or...?"

The polishing part sounded a little...personal, though Butch supposed it was no different than going to a spa or getting a haircut. Avalanche seemed embarrassed about it, but why should she? Everyone deserved some pampering at some point, though what counted as "pampering" differed from person to person. Butch couldn't see herself in some spa, surrounded by gentle music with cucumbers on her face and her nails getting done. It wasn't her thing.

"The place should come up on your left in about fifteen minutes," Butch instructed. "Everything will be out on the curb - first come, first serve. We can pick through what we want and toss it...hm. Where would be a good place to put it, you think?"

Butch hadn't thought about that before walking out the door. She'd been excited about the prospect of her little "Craigslist crawl", and the thought had slipped her mind. There was only so much space in Ava's cab, and Butch didn't know if Ava would be fine with things being put in the back. She was a dump truck, after all, and she might need that space for something important.