re_alignment | [Video | Junk Pile, yet again]

Entry tags:

✘ his dark materials | lyra belacqua

[Video | Junk Pile, yet again]

[Lyra had much more important things to do rather than go visit some temple where she was apparently supposed to live now. She had an alethiometer to find and wasn't about to leave the junk pile until she did. The end result was the little girl setting up a junk-made lean to for herself and Pan, camping out at night and searching through the day.

It had to be somewhere.

Settling down with some food she'd managed to get while Pan continued searching, Lyra turned on her comm unit, figurin she might as well see what was going on. And ask if anyone else had found it.]

Got a question for all you. I'm looking for something real important. It kinda looks like a compass but with pictures on it. I know I had it when I jumped trough the window after my father so if one of you has it you best give it back.

[She glares a bit to make her point before glancing off screen to check on Pan.]

Anything?

Nothing yet. At least not what we're lookin for. There's so much weird stuff here, Lyra!

[The little girl grinned, her daemon's excitement and curiosity infectious.]

Oh. Right. So...can anyone tell me what this thing means? Which temple or whotever.

[She pushes the sleeve of her shirt up some to show off Liege's glyph.]

Still not sure where it's supposed to take me.

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Well kid, you're the one who woke up in a weird place. Who's the unhelpful one now?

[There's a slight smirk that he returns to her.]

Apparently if ya keep yourself busy, you get closer to your FirstForged. Whoever yours is.

Oh ha ha. You're real funny.

Except not.

[Pan had bound up, changing dorms to that of a wild at as he peered around Lyra at the screen.]

Too bad I ain't got a clue who mine is. I got more important things to do anyway.

What can I say? I'm a pro.

[dlajfa he still has to get used to Pan, so he does a quick double take. Stop doing that...whatever you are.]

Yeah? Didn't realize ya already booked your schedule.

Course I did! I told you I've got something to find that's really important so I gotta find it before I can do anything.

[Pan bounds off at that, turnin back into a beagle to do some more searching. Lyra sighs as she watches her daemon, clearly worried that they won't find it before she closes off again as she looks at her comm.]

You could come help you know.

Yeah? This how you usually ask for help? It's a charmin' quality.

[Of course, he's not indcredibly ANGRY about it, more amused. If she's spunky enough to be THAT blunt, maybe she wasn't so bad after all.]

Junk Pile, right?

Usually, yeah.

[Why shouldn't she be blunt?]

Yep. You here yet?

[Yeah she's messing with you now.]

Watch your mouth. I'm on my way over.

[It takes a little bit, but the bot eventually gets to the junk pile, hands stuffed in his pockets.]

HEY KID!

[Lyra just rolls her eyes and settles in to wait for Wheeljack to get there, hopping up eventually to help Pan with the search. It's the daemon that senses his approach first, ears perking as he hops up onto some junk to peer over towards the man, Lyra jerking around when he calls out to her.]

You don't have to yell! I ain't deaf!

You can never be too careful.

[He stops in front of Lyra, looking around at the current situation. So...this is what she'd been doing all day. Oddly enough, it was similar to what he'd done when he first arrived here.]

Might help to know what we're looking for.

I already told you once, didn't I?

[She'd had to explain this to a lot of people as of late so she can't remember who's already heard and who hasn't.

Holding up her hands all the same, she makes a circular shape, a little smaller then the size of her head.]

It's about this big and looks like a compass, but with pictures all the way around it and three hands.

Yeah, and if I said "Find me a cortical psychic patch", you'd have no problem, right kid?

[The description does help, though.]

Compass, got it.

[He crouches down, starting to sift through all the trash.]

[Rolling her eyes then sticking her tongue out at Wheeljack, Lyra got back to searching as well, playing up the annoyed card for a moment...before curiosity got the best of her.]

..Wot's that..patch thing you mentioned?

[The search continued in silence until her question popped up. He'd take his sweet time answering it too, inspecting what looked to be a broken pipe. Gosh it's such an interesting pipe.]

...

Somethin' ya don't want to mess with, kid. It's used to go inside your mind.

[And here she as just about to chuck a piece of junk that was handy at him.]

Inside your..mind...

[She shivers a bit.]

Sounds just as bad as that horrible machine Mrs. Coulter had in the North.

[Put that down kid you'll probably injure yourself or eat it or something.]

Machine? Mrs. Coulter?

You ain't makin' sense yourself, kid.

[He tosses a little trinket her way, almost playfully.]

[She dodges the thrown trinket, sticking her tongue out at him yet again.]

There was this machine that they put little kids into. 'Cause I guess it's easier to use on kids or something. And it--it separates you from your daemon.

[She shudders and Pan's immediately at her side, melting into the form of a cat to rub against her ankles. Lyra immediately kneels and scoops him up, hugging him close.]

We got put in it..I almost lost Pan.

[Kissing the cat's head, Lyra peered over at Wheeljack again.]

And Mrs. Coulter... [Her expression darkens a bit.] She's evil. An evil horrible woman that tried to hurt us.

[The tongue stuck out just earns a smirk from him, imitating her. Not really having a tongue in his robot form, this is pretty new to him. It was fun.

But serious talk times now.]

This guy...[He gestures to Pan.] It separated you two? How? You're not...really attached are you?

[He seems to peer around, as if looking for some kind of...leash.]

...Well, whatever it is, doin' that to a kid's all kinds of wrong.

He's my soul.

[Come on, Wheeljack, keep up.]

Pan is me and I'm him. There ain't a difference between us. If he dies, I die. If I die, he dies. And they wanted to separated us--take my soul away from me.

[Lyra outright shivers again but her gaze stays on Wheeljack, hoping he understands.]

...Your soul.

[Wheeljack wasn't really one for the supernatural, but...he knows what a soul is. It's like your spark. Who you are. and...]

You think it's such a good idea to keep your soul exposed like that?

[He takes a look at Pan, holding a hand up.]

No offense. Just would keep you safer. Both of ya.

That's how it's always been. Everyone back home has a daemon. You're born with one, dummy.

[Even with the minor insult, she's beginning to realize that pretty much everyone here is from a world without daemons.

And it's...odd to her. She can't imagine not having Pan.]

It's just how things work. But I understand what you mean.

...Huh. Crazy stuff. I guess we have somethin' similar. Little symbiotes. But it's only a select few who get that. Split sparks too, I guess.

[He sticks his hand down into the junk pile, pulling out a plate and tossing it like a frisbee.]

Humans always seem to be full of surprises.

[Pan immediately perks at the sight of the frisbee, unable to help himself as he darts after it to retrieve it.

It's been way too long since either of them got the chance to just play and be young.

Lyra can't help but grin because of her daemon's actions, shrugging as she brushes some hair out of her face.]

That's a good thing though right? Keeps you lot guessing.

[Wheeljack scoots out of the way slightly as Pan takes off, giving a slight chuckle. That guy could run pretty fast, he had to admit.

But his attention diverts to the girl, tilting her head.]

Guess so. Although, not such I liked finding out how eating worked.

[Lyra snorted, crossing her arms as Pan came darting back with the Frisbee, dropping it at Wheeljack's feet.]

What, you robots don't eat?

That's kind of weird...how do you keep living?

[Wheeljack looks down at the frisbee and...reluctantly holds his hand out. Maybe Pan would let him pet him? If not, it'll just nonchalantly reach down for that frisbee.]

Not as often. We refuel once every couple of days. Even longer if we aren't injured or exhausting ourselves.

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