(open) all some children do is work

[devilmind]

Who: The Operator and YOU!
What: The Operator tries to win back their stuffed animal collection at the Boardwalk carnival.
When: Late February
Where: The Boardwalk

Content Warnings: References to children handling firearms

i. take aim, children, take aim

[ Just like last month, the Operator spends much of February’s arrival period at the Farther Shores and the Boardwalk, watchful for any familiar faces among the newest Sleepers. They maintain a cautious sense of hope; even if it’s unlikely that they’ll find anyone they know, it’s certainly not impossible. They wouldn’t even be the first Sleeper to be reunited with someone from home—far from it, from what they’ve been told.

Yet, the last thing they’re expecting is that familiarity should come not in the form of a face or voice, but in that of an inanimate object—of many inanimate objects. ]

Those—those are my floofs!

[ This, exclaimed as they stare in utter astonishment at the wall of prizes in one of the many carnival game booths lining the boardwalk. To any observer, the ”floofs” in question look like any other stuffed animals at first glance: soft, colorful, and kid-friendly. Yet, the longer one looks at them, the more evident it becomes that they don’t represent any earthly creatures. Some may look vaguely rodent-shaped or canine, but with odd features like protruding spines or horns. Some defy comprehension entirely.

The attendant, dressed in a striped red-and-white suit, only grins—and hands them a pellet gun. This is a shooting gallery after all. Paper targets whirl and dance on the far end of the booth. Standing there with the toy gun in their hands, the Operator looks between the attendant and the weapon, momentarily uncertain. Then, they brace the stock firmly against their shoulder and take aim at the targets. Their first few shots are shaky, but once they get a feel for the pellet gun, their aim improves at an alarming rate.

One thing becomes abundantly clear: this is not the Operator’s first time using a gun—far from it. ]

ii. knock, knock?

[ Unfortunately, not all of the Operator’s floofs can be won at the shooting gallery—and, as they’ve found out, not all the booths are free.

The Operator runs out of jokes to exchange for plays at the ring toss very quickly. Most of the jokes they know come from Ordis and most of those only work if you’re a Cephalon. Which is how they come to approach a stranger, preferably one who looks like they might be particularly good-humored. ]

Excuse me, [ they say, their stiff, formal posture at odds with the youthful embarrassment in their voice. ] Could you, um… tell me a joke?

iii. this, the song of sons and daughters

[ Meanwhile, the attendant at the dart-throwing stall had asked for a different price: a song. Under normal circumstances, the Operator might have balked at the request, but these are not normal circumstances. In fact, this attendant’s wall of prizes holds their most cherished floof: a large, humanoid doll with a pair of wings, holding a large pink heart.

They’re not going to let Ticker down.

The Operator sings… about how you’d expect a teenager being made to sing in public to sing: red-faced, stiff-shouldered, and practically under their breath. It takes a lot of urging from the attendant for their voice to become easily audible. ]

...and we’re all adrift together, together. Through the cold mist, ‘til we’re lifeless together, together…

[ As the song comes to an end, the Operator glances up at the attendant, only to get a half-skeptical, half-pitying look in return. The Operator scowls. ]

You didn’t say it had to be a happy song!

Comments

i

[holyjudgmental]

[The serpent's den had been reminiscent of the blood-glutted court of the Countess too much for Junia to bear, a thing only reinforced by the...incident...that had stricken her erstwhile companion. This revel is a thing much more familiar to her. It recalls the fairs and holidays she remembers, full of raucous peasant amusements and games. So it is tolerable, even if she remains, of course, stoic and above all such -]

Yes!

[She clenches her gloved fists in front of her chest as Cedar knocks out another target with unerring precision, her eyes bright.]

Go on, another -

ii

[eudaimonikos]

Uh - yeah, I know jokes. Why did the human cross the lava pit?

[Wait. He just spat that out because he was caught off-guard, and that's not always good! Michael holds up a hand.]

Wait, sorry, did you want a human joke?

[devilmind]

Um. [ The Operator blinks, trying to process first the bizarre joke the man had begun to tell and then the question that comes after it. ] ...Yes?

[ Too bad their curiosity is already piqued. He can't just leave them hanging like that! ]

Why did the human cross the lava pit?

[eudaimonikos]

[Oh. Uh. Oops.]

Because they...decided that the endless agony of melting was better than having the wasps lay eggs in their FORGET IT, that doesn't even make sense outside of cultural context! Try me again, I can do human jokes!

[devilmind]

Wait, what?

[ Where did the wasps come from? Where are they laying eggs? Why would melting be "endless" agony? The Operator knows quite confidently that it doesn't take that long to melt someone. They stare at the man in utter bafflement. ]

What kind of joke even is that?

[ He says it's not human and it's certainly not Cephalon. ]

[eudaimonikos]

It's a demon joke! They're all like that!

[he SAID we shouldn't go with that one! this is not his fault!!!]

[devilmind]

[ A demon joke? The Operator has an idea of what demons are—they've been called a demon on more than one occasion. It means someone who crawled out of Hell, out of the Void. Still, they've been to the Void on plenty of occasions and there certainly weren't any wasps or lava pits. ]

Are demon jokes supposed to be... gross? Or not funny?

[ They don't even sound like they're trying to be insulting. They look legitimately perplexed as to what the point is supposed to be. ]

[eudaimonikos]

...well, yeah, I guess they are supposed to be gross. The funny part is the suffering. Because...demons.

[Look, it's not like he told the joke and then laughed.]

[devilmind]

[ The Operator cannot help but laugh at Junia's enthusiasm, and the red hue that steals across their face is not entirely unwelcome. They themself are surprised at their own aptitude; they've handled firearms countless times, but never in this form. Like hand-to-hand combat, it had been something they'd always thought of as belonging strictly to the purview of Warframes—as if they'd only hurt themself if they fired a gun as they are now.

...Well, maybe a fully upgraded Tigris Prime would still knock them onto their backside. But this little pellet gun proves no challenge at all. ]

You're going to make me miss! [ the Operator chides, though it's quite clear they're fighting a grin. They fire another shot, knocking down another spinning target. Their eyes flick towards the Vestal, just a hint of mischief on their face. ]

You should try this after me, Junia—I think you'd like it.

[holyjudgmental]

[With anyone else, Junia would be bracing for the mockery sure to follow in the wake of any laughter around her (always at her expense, surely), the trick contained in the seemingly friendly offer.

With Cedar, her eyes gleam with battle-keenness, a ghost of an answering smile pressed flat in the twitching line of her mouth.]

I have thought- [This time, she bites her tongue while Cedar pulls the trigger; she does know better, despite her outburst.]

- I have thought such weapons ought to be more used, in the service of the Flame.

[Because of the tiny explosions, you see.]

[devilmind]

Demons... Like, devils from the Void.

[ There's a distinct note of skepticism in their voice. They've heard the word "demon" and "devil" plenty of times, almost exclusively in reference to them. To the Operator, it is an insult, an epithet used by people who don't understand what they're looking at—not something to be taken literally. ]

Are they meant to be jokes for evil people?

[eudaimonikos]

...yeah. That's kinda our whole thing.

[Sounds like they've got demons wherever they're from, so like...people normally get that.]

[devilmind]

Don't see why not, [ the Operator replies breezily as they line up another shot. ] They've always served the Tenno well.

[ They squeeze the trigger and yet another target goes down. A bell rings. The Operator lowers the pellet gun, turning eagerly toward the attendant. He motions towards the wall of prizes—and holds up three fingers. ]

Um... [ There are four of the Operator's floofs on the wall. They'll have to play again for the last. Their expression grows contemplative as they decide which ones to take first. ] The kubrodon, the vulpaphyla— [ They catch the attendant staring blankly at them. They point. ] That one, that one, and that one.

[ The attendant fetches each of the floofs in turn, depositing them into the Operator's waiting arms. They turn towards Junia with their not-so-hard-won bounty, unable to keep the smile from their face. ]

Look! These are all from my Orbiter. [ Floofs may not be the most practical of objects, but it's exciting just to have something show up from home. And the Operator would be lying if they said they didn't feel some amount of fondness for the toys; they were gifts, after all. ] I wonder how they got here?

[devilmind]

[ Our whole thing? The Operator's eyebrows raise at that. ]

You're a demon? [ They look him up and down, but see nothing but an ordinary man before them. Not even his eyes look strange. ]

...Is this part of the joke?

[eudaimonikos]

No? I'm not sure how that's funny.

[devilmind]

[ The Operator stares hard at the man, lips pursed. They really can't tell if he's pulling their leg or not. ]

You don't really look like something from the Void.

[eudaimonikos]

Well, you and I aren't from the same universe. We've never really called it the void.

[Like, you could describe it that way, but.]

[devilmind]

[ So, in his universe, demons just look like normal people? But then what do humans look like? Or are demons just some kind of human subspecies? The Operator rubs their temples. He better not just be messing with them. ]

Okay... What exactly makes someone a demon in your universe? Because it's obviously different than mine.

[eudaimonikos]

Uh - immortal, generally evil beings beyond the scope of human perception. Pretty standard stuff. Why, what're your demons like?

[devilmind]

[ Well, that's... not too far off from characterizations in the Operator's universe, actually. Still, there are some differences. ]

Nobody actually calls themself a demon where I'm from. People use it to mean monsters from the Void. Beings that don't belong in normal space.

[ They peer at the man, still wary that there's a punchline somewhere, lying in wait. ]

So... Are you evil?

[ A skeptical tone again. The Operator's come face-to-face with evil many times. So far, this man doesn't seem to fit the bill. ]

[eudaimonikos]

Nah. I mean, I don't think "good" and "evil" are really permanent states of being - but no, I try not to be. Our society is one thing, but we're still individual sentient beings capable of choice.

[holyjudgmental]

Witchcraft, no doubt.

[The dismissive sniff paired with the declaration has only a fraction of Junia's usual prickliness. She looks at the 'floofs' with poorly veiled fascination, reaching out tentatively as if to touch one on its oddly shaped nose - but she stops just short. They are such fine looking craftworks, made of such luxurious materials, that she finds herself nervous of somehow doing them harm.]

What is the purpose of these 'floofs'?

[She smiles back at Cedar with that faint uncertainty written in the wrinkling of her brow, but she is making an effort (almost despite herself) to be, if not pleasant, at least not unpleasant.]

[devilmind]

Well... that's good.

[ They don't even sound sarcastic about it—just genuinely surprised. The man really doesn't seem to be kidding... but what kind of society calls its members "demons" and openly relishes their own evil? Even the Orokin, for all their depravity, styled themselves as enlightened philosopher-kings; they never would have admitted to their own heinousness.

The Operator wonders whether such open acknowledgment makes demon society the better or worse of the two. ]

But I don't think a demon joke will go over well here. [ They glance back at the carnival booth, where the attendant is still waiting for their "payment." ]

...Do you know any human ones?

[eudaimonikos]

Uh...can you tell him that his face is the joke?

[devilmind]

[ Seeing Junia's interest, the Operator holds the floofs out to her, letting her take a closer look. They'd had a similar reaction to seeing one for the first time. The bright colors and soft textures had fascinated them, unaccustomed as they were to either on the Orbiter they called their home. Yet, the toys had evoked an odd sort of familiarity as well—sense memories of another life, distant and dreamlike. Now, the fact that they're the one remnant of home the Operator has in this place makes them all the more precious. ]

Um... [ Their gaze darts away at Junia's question, slightly embarrassed. ] Toys, I guess. But... back home, people sometimes gave them to me as gifts for helping them—along with more practical things.

[ Weapons, components, relics... The Business had been the first to offer them a floof for their help on the Vallis, perhaps because he had little else to offer them. There was only so much a man dedicated to the preservation of life could give to a Tenno—and so he'd thanked them with a toy instead of a gun. Looking back, the Operator has the strange sense that it was somehow a brave thing to do. After all, when they'd first stood before The Business, there'd been no trace of a child there—only of an alien mind encased in metal flesh. Yet, The Business had seen through them all the same. Master Teasonai was right when he said that the man had a greater understanding of people than most could aspire to. ]

I keep them around my Orbiter as decorations. [ They look down at the floofs in their arms with a small smile. ] They make the ship feel a little less empty.