I think it's the appreciation of simple, pure joy.
That's the closest I can come to putting it into words, and the closest I've ever come to pinning down one of Maetel's defining characteristics.
It's not that she's constantly happy and eternally optimistic and Belldandy-esque, because she isn't. There've been times she was almost as introspectively gloomy as me.
She was in an almost giddy sort of mood back after she'd hauled Morden's 'puppy' into orbit, though. It was the most unguarded I'd ever seen her being ... well, barring recent events.
So I sort of feel like I owe Morden one for that, even if it was a bit of chance rather than something deliberate.
It also left Maetel thinking very fondly of the Saint Bernard.
And if you're wondering why I'm thinking about what used to be a transport plane like it's actually alive ... it's likely because I do. In part, because she does, and in part because I've a gut feeling.
Also, if you're wondering why I was ruminating about Maetel right then, when I'd had a Kunoichi drop a bit of a bombshell on me just minutes ago?
Let's just say it kept me grounded and away from considering something ill-advised, and leave it at that.
Meanwhile, I'd left my momentary position of contemplation, and figured I might as well get some mileage out of the stands. We hadn't said we'd be meeting anywhere in particular after we were done with our respective errands, but if I was needed for something both myself and her had commo on us.
Heh. I still found it vaguely amusing that it took the advent of the space-age to get me to buy a cell.
If nothing came up, we'd likely either run across one-another while browsing, or when we hit the hotel-units Scales' had magnanimously per-booked for Hermes.
Before that, though, I mingled my way past Whedonites' booth - did they have permits for those crossbows? - and headed for the Jolly Harlocks flapping over yonder.
I browsed my way past the mockups and into the actual good stuff, and started off with getting a pretty damn accurate little ivory skull and crossbones hair-ornament.
A few minutes, a gunbelt, scarf, and a few more odds and ends afterwards I was weighing the hilt of a fairly nifty taser-rapier in my hand, and nodded.
Paid.
Collected the whole lot into the complimentary Harlocked duffle.
Then proceeded to vacate the premises, because there was a high chance of a more attentive Matsumotoite happening by and recognizing me by virtue of association.
Also, I was kind of hoping the weight of the duffle and its contents would stop me from making a 'why not try Emma Frost?' comment somewhere down the line.
Yeah.
I'd just about managed to shelve my other concerns to the side when I was ... well, not exactly intercepted.
I was pretty much going on automatic and stepped around the guy before I noticed he was actually talking to me.
Or, you know, at me.
I paused in mid-step, then sidestepped to let someone with too much gear and too little ability to see where he was going ramble past ... yeesh. There's such a thing as a too big sword.
"Sorry, say that again?" I asked, turning to face him.
"Whoa!"
Right. The walking armory - either that, or junk-shop - really wasn't watching where he was going, and the guy backpedalled, tripped, and landed on his ass.
I gave him a hand up a moment later, after spending that brief instant shaking my head. Yup. Whoever that heap of ferrous was still hadn't learned to tread softly, meaning he hadn't met anyone with a bigger stick yet.
Seeing as he was heading towards the Federation, I was half tempted to trail behind and watch the almost inevitable Klingon dogpile, but after you'd seen one you've sort of seen them all so ...
"Okay, from the top. What was that again?" I asked the guy after helping him back into the vertical world.
"I'm looking for Schrdinger Katz."
Okay.
Nope.
Like I said, outside of certain situations and circles, I don't do profilic. Sometimes not even then. There are people out there who know me, sure, and those who know of me, though that's a smaller group - because in most cases, I'm little more than 'hey, you' and like to leave it at that - and he didn't look like a member.
Japanese, wearing what looked like some sort of school uniform - jacket, pants, untucked shirt and loose tie - and faintly sardonic. Spoke with an accent.
I looked at my chrono, shrugged, and nodded. Not like I had anything else to do, any maybe whatever this was would provide me with more of a momentary distraction.
"You've found him. What're you gonna do with him?"
He looked faintly uncomfortable.
"Could we maybe talk someplace more private?"
"Sorry, you're not my type."
I think that took a moment to compute, before he finally started to protest ...
... and got drowned out by the collective Fendom going into a dull roar as the stage back towards the promenade's entrance was finally put to use. Or was it just somebody with a guitar and a hookup for it making use of the facilities?
A few chords were ripped off, and I winced at what was to follow when I recognized them.
I looked left.
I looked right.
I grabbed the puzzled and still gesticulating guy and hauled ass out of the immediate blast radius, managing to make it into a nearby ... hmm, looked like there was some kind of miniatures tournament going on ... shoppe and closing the door right as the first shout of:
"FLASH! A-AH!"
tore through the air.
"Yeah, usually I don't mind improv. Usually," I shook my head. "Seriously, though. Who're you?"
The gamers had pretty much gone back to what they'd been doing when we'd come in, scrubbing us from their collective radars.
He reached into his jacket and rummaged around a little, before withdrawing a ... business card?
Kyon, SOS-dan.
Hmm.
Interesting.
"Okay. That gives you an ear."
A few minutes later and I was back outside again, walking alone again, and trying very very hard to avoid getting myself into a mood conductive to doing something ... rash. Pretty much back where I'd started after Maki had talked to me. Only a bit more aware of the scope of things.
To put matters bluntly ...
That's some heavy shit.
Followed pretty much immediately by:
Holy Global Frequency, Batman.
Okay. If Kyon's here, who's watching Haruhi? Or was that her on the guitar, maybe?
-Griever
When tact is required, use brute force. When force is required, use greater force.
When the greatest force is required, use your head. Surprise is everything. - The Book of Cataclysm