Into the Underworld [Silvermistshadow!]

[Blue]

Pipe at a fifteen degree angle.
Wall integrity at sixty-five percent.
Air particulate at a median thirteen percent density.

There was lots of muffled things here, slow and wobbling and squirming, all squishing together and not rising or falling. This one preferred the loud scratching and scrabbling of the creature-types. The thoughts shattered silence and cut through to understanding, easy and without delay or detour. Human-types were so…unbearable. Too much writhing, too much dampness. This one could not detangle the worms from each other, could not bring to the surface anything understandable.

This was underground but it was dry and hollow. Somewhere deep below this one could feel the humming call of things familiar yet forgotten. A place curled in darkness and vile seeping things. So this one looked up with dull red eyes, staring and staring at the pipes.
Pipes brought air, kept the human-types alive, vibrated very so slightly. Though there were many people about, moving around this one, the pipes were the chosen topic of staring.

The white body suit the strange androgynous figure wore had at one time been stained with the dirt and contaminants of the topside world, but it had only taken some water to flush it all away, leaving the suit again in it’s pristine white condition. The figure stuck out something fierce, standing stock still as they were, head cocked back to stare at the ceiling of the dark underworld known as Teinar.

[silvermistshadow]

This planet was kind of disturbing. The fact that there were only a few habitable places left on it kind of made Misaki want to break some of the rules and put terraform towers everywhere. But technology was not to be given freely, rather, her culture preferred to lead other cultures along the same paths that lead them where they were, so that they might have the wisdom to use their technology.

If she were on the surface, she would be wearing full armor, but underground here it was at least close enough to habitable for her to wear only her usual amount of clothing. The culture here preferred practical clothing, much as her own. But here it was a matter of necessity rather than preference.

Walking through the place, making observations, she eventually observed something distinct. A human of indeterminate gender, standing still, observing the ceiling. The ceiling where the pipes were, her larger hearing range allowing her to hear the hiss of air passing through them. And then she also noticed the blue lines on their face. Likely this one is partially synthetic.

"The pipes are quite loud, aren't they?" She tried to begin conversation with them.

[Blue]

A clatter, crash, ringing - abrupt and sharp but fading into fuzziness. Not the soggy, muffled thoughts…these were words. Came from the mouth, bitten sharply, pushed through, shot into air.
Sounds. Melodic. Raspy. Lilting. Strung together like a rhythm beat.
There was meaning in the melodies, pauses and stops and floating things.

The figure didn’t seem to notice that they were being spoken to, nothing stirred in their stance. If not for the slight expanding and contracting of their ribs, one might not have even realized they were alive.
Finally they blinked slowly once, before their head lowered until that strange flat gaze was on the off-world visitor…at least it was assumed the figure was indeed looking at Misaki, but it was hard to tell. They seemed to lack a sense of focus, their eyelids at half-mast as though groggy or drugged.
The blue lines glowed ever so faintly, though it was hard to tell under the false lighting.

The figure opened their mouth, but nothing came out for a long moment, though the words that finally emerged had nothing to do with what Misaki had said…at least, not what she had said out loud.
“Synthesized organic material failure rate of eighty percent. Synthetic fibers must be no wider than two cell lengths. Synthetic organisms lack complexities and interworking mechanisms of organic predecessors. Synthetic laminate of resonant molecular structure binds to organic cells with acceptable ten percent rupture rate.”
 The figure blinked again. The chance that one had spoken to this one was ninety five percent. A response would be appropriate.
“The pipes are quite loud. An average thirty cubic pounds of air leaves each vent every second.”

[silvermistshadow]

Well, they certainly did seem to act like a synthetic. A young one, perhaps a recent creation, or one that has lied unawakened for a long time and lost its memories. And then, they also responded to her thoughts. She didn't seem apprehensive at all, rather, there was a certain curiosity in her mind. The blue lines would have been much less noticeable to a human, but her sharpened senses could pick out these sort of details from a bit further away than she was now.

And how long ago did you record that data? She thought, intentionally using the fact that they were at least passively listening to her mind. They were interesting to her. In fact, she almost wanted to take them back to her ship and help them learn. Or unlock the full potential of their central processing unit. With those half closed eyes, she figured that they didn't have access to plenty of their features.

They spoke about the pipes this time. A mind gathering that data with no external tools was fairly advanced. She paused to access the small computer on her right wrist. Its display was holographic, but in infrared, which she switched to so she could see it, just happening to take a glance at the figure in front of her while doing so. "And yet air particulate levels are still above ten percent." She said idly. The level of technology here is insufficient to have any research on synthetic humanoids. She thought, still aware that they could hear her.

[Blue]

A filtering thing, passing diluted through. It did not wiggle nor squirm. It simply sifted in, through the cotton, and came out as a puddle on the other side. It was lucid and shining. Not like the usual human-type thoughts.
This one was easy to catch, to keep hold of, wet and slick but still squishy - it did not slip through or worm away.

“…I am sorry, there has been data corruption. Time clock is nonfunctional at this point in time.”

Their unfocused crimson eyes had begun to wander down and to the side, as if their eyeballs themselves lacked the strength to continue staring straight ahead…but then the holographic image appeared, and their gaze shifted. They stared at it as if it were the only interesting thing in the area - infrared or not, they seemed to know it was there.
Their mouth opened again, and it was as if Misaki were having a conversation with two separate consciousnesses within one body. Between the mechanical of before, and the organic that now spoke in broken sentences.
“This place is broken. It is only just barely. Just barely.”

Another wet thing slipped in, falling down with a splat and waiting pleasantly for this one to retrieve it. Cool and soft, it was unlike the scratching scrabblings and the muffled squirmy things.
“From below. The dark and sickening places. All black and seething, bubbles pop and let ooze all that survived.”

[silvermistshadow]

It seemed that they hadn't been keeping track of time for a while now, if that data was corrupt. Misaki also noticed that their gaze shifted to the display as soon as it came on. "Just barely habitable." She completed the sentence, or at least figured she got close enough to what the organic voice was trying to say. I have somewhere less broken, with things at least as interesting as this hologram. Maybe they would like to come with her after all. Or perhaps they preferred to stay here. It was their choice. "Below seems to have similar dangers to above." She noted from their words. The display temporarily shifted to an image of her ship, which zoomed out to show its relative location in the current environment. Basically, it was a map.

[Blue]

More melodic tones. Shifting, swaying, notes up and down. As a strain it was a short song, altogether, floating past the ears. Words. Words. It was a sentence, and it matched. Matched and completed. This one copied the song back.
“Just barely habitable.”
The pseudo-synthetic being repeated, though it was all but impossible to tell if they actually understood, or if they were simply parroting it.

Another silvery wet splat. This one picked it up, held it close, heard it’s tingling words that were not words. It was vague. A someplace? A someplace…This one grabbed the clinging strings and pulled, tendrils straining and some snapping. But they pulled, and another small wet quicksilver fell in.
“A ship. A spaceship is the place with interesting things.”
The figure was no longer passively listening.
They were now actively retrieving information from Misaki’s mind.

As if verifying this one’s words, the hologram indeed showed a ship for a moment, before it zoomed out to show a view of the environment as well. The figure stared at it unblinking, but their crimson gaze was still flat and devoid.
“Not this below. Below below. Below Below Below Below Below Below Below Below….”
The chanting was cut short with an involuntary shudder that shook their entire slender frame, before their head again snapped back up at the pipes. Or perhaps at the ceiling. Or perhaps at the sky above it all.

[silvermistshadow]

She observed the being, seeming to analyze their responses closely. After the repetition, they began actively retrieving information from Misaki's mind. She had no psionic capabilities of her own, so she couldn't exactly stop them.  

The hologram shifted to a tentative map of 'below below' as well, showing what the ship had retrieved from basic seismographic techniques. It then showed the ship more closely again when they stopped chanting. "Indeed. Would you feel safer away from both this below and below below?" She asked them. It certainly seemed, based on their reactions, that they did not like 'below below'.

[Blue]

Their breathing was slow, deliberate. There was only a quiet sort of stillness, for a long moment, far longer than in any normal conversation. Of course, the alien visitor likely already knew this was not an ordinary conversation by any stretch of the imagination. It was hard to know if the figure had heard, and if they had, if they even understood.
When they finally spoke again, they did not shift their gaze from the ceiling, crimson eyes unblinking.

“There is no safe. Safety is…an elaborate illusion.”

[silvermistshadow]

It didn't matter how weird it was. Misaki stood by similarly silent, waiting for their response. She seemed to consider that response when it came, although for a shorter period before responding. "Safety is relative. True safety cannot be achieved. But one place can be safer than another. Risks are always present, but one can be somewhere with fewer risks." She tried that bit of philosophy on them.

[Blue]

The figure’s head twitched upward a bit, as if something had caught their attention, but their crimson gaze remained unfocused. A quick response, surprisingly, tumbled from their lips.
“Relative.”
It was still impossible to know just which side of this enigmatic person was speaking…the ‘computer’ synthetic or the ‘living’ organic.
“Risks. Yes, many risks are present, here and elsewhere. Relative. But if all risks are known, the mean average is quite similar from area to area.”
There was another pause.
“Not enough data. Data fields have shifted. Backlogged scans do not correlate with current scans.”

They shifted slightly, turned a bit, away from Misaki. Their gaze wandered, aimlessly, as seemed to be the usual for them.
“This one was told by the human type to stay here.”