milliways_bar | (no subject)

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The Noriko that comes downstairs today is dressed differently. Compared to her usual clothes, the simple jeans and white tee shirt are positively tame, hair tied back in a ponytail--though it's still bright blue--to keep it out of her face.

The bandage on her hand is still there, as she sits at the bar and asks for a magazine or something to read. She gets Popular Mechanics.

[tiny tags: Noriko Ashida, Trudy Chacon]

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Trudy is at a table nearby, and she's...not exactly busy. More...engaged, then anything else. There are some tools, and wires, and pieces of gadgetry - what it was to start with is hard to say, as she's pulled it completely apart and is rebuilding.

Nori's abandoned the magazine in favor of watching Trudy.

"What's that?"

Trudy glances up.

"It wants to be a radio. It's not there yet."

Nori cocks her head at it. "What d'you have to do it to get it there?"

She opens her mouth, starts to speak, and then shuts it again.

"How much y'know about mechanics?"

"Some," she says. "Not like, a lot for a genius or anything, but...I can put together stuff. Built an engine in school."

When she actually went to school. Which has been a while.

Her eyes narrowing slightly, "What kind of engine?"

"Internal combustion." It was just small, a little bigger than a tabletop-size, but it was back in Tokyo and she had no desire to go back there even to get it.

"Which year?"

"Which year what?"

Easily, "You are enterin' the bar from?"

"Oh. Um, 2010. I think."

Sure, we'll go with that. It's not like Nori really has a reason to keep track. And she certainly doesn't in here.

"I'm from 2154. So, theory'd be similar, but-" And then Trudy explains what she's doing, using simple language but not treating Nori as if she were an idiot. It's a fine line, but she knows how to tread it.

Nori listens, and in the space of a few seconds she's settled down, looking less like a junkie that still has no idea where the hell she is and more like an exceptionally rebellious greasemonkey. (She's kind of both, but work with it.)

"So you'd be needing to connect these ends," she says, mind making the connections as Trudy talks, "And then the circuit's going to loop back on itself."

Trudy smiles and nods.

"'Zactly."

Edited 2010-03-21 05:10 (UTC)

"Cool," she says softly, and for the first time in a couple days Nori actually smiles out of happiness, not nerves. She likes machines. Machines are easy; they only do what you tell them to, assuming you built it right, and if you didn't it's your own screwup anyway.

"You build a lot of radios?"

It's a good smile.

Trudy shakes her head. "Nah, more often I'm fiddling with Samsons - uh, futuristic type of helicopter."

"You have one?"

She hasn't ever worked on something other than a pretty standard American POS, there being several in the lot at the end of the alley she came in from. She's got one of them actually taken apart, though she'd be faster with the putting it back together if the others would stop stealing the parts.

"So, uh. Samsons use the same tech as here? With the radio?"

"I...am gettin' a new one - old one had a run in with an alien." She gestures to the crutches leaning against the table. "But been flyin' and maintin' 'em for years. And...it's...similar. Not 'zactly the same, as things change over time. Enough for concepts to be workable though, I think."

"Awesome." The only odd thing about this whole conversation so far has been that Nori hasn't touched anything, or even made a move towards the parts or Trudy.

The burns on her left hand are aching enough to sort of remind her not to do that. "Is it here?"

"I...no. Suppose I could fly one out the back. Once I can fly again."

Noriko is...what some people would call observant; especially if that person was blind, deaf, and stoned. Once something is pointed out to her on a person, some of the other things just pop out and she wonders why they didn't before.

"How'd you bust your leg?"

"...when the alien was bein' frisky with my Samson. Crash-landed. Fractured my tibia."

"Ow."

It's about the only sympathy she can offer...legally.

"But, could be worse," she says, with a shrug. And she means it, too. "Just a bitch not bein' able to fly."

"Only flown once," Nori murmurs. "From Japan to the States." From there, she'd just moved slowly northwards until she'd come to New York.

"Not piloting, though?"

She shakes her head. "No. Hopped a military transport out of Yokota. Went to Georgia, and...just kept going."

"Oof!"

"Umph!"

--clash, clang--

"Get your hand off my--"

"Watch it!--"

A tangled mass of ninja-pirate chaos rolls across the floor, swords flashing and fists flying.

Grunt.

"Ug!"

Sntch, sntck.

"--Stop yank my hair, you--"

Smack.

High pitched, "That was uncalled for--"

Thud.

"--so was that!"

Clank, rattle, TZING.

Still fighting, the two roll on across the floor, over, and over, and over...

Nori has seen a lot of barfights; given, none involving a pirate and a ninja. It's sort of a conundrum that just...doesn't happen all too often in her world unless a couple of guys decide to go at it on Halloween or something.

As it is, she wasn't paying them a whole lot of attention until while rolling they smacked into her chair and knocked her off it to the floor. "Ow, hey! Watch it!"

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