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Miracles in Cloudbank
Maurice and Evan find themselves on another planet
Permalink Mark Unread

Maurice looks over Evan's shoulder as he tinkers with the bit of technology they "rescued" from the Roamers. 

"I don't think you should--"

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A light like the face of God, and the ground gives way beneath the two children.

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"...Do that."

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"Crap."

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The Roamers had a flying ship, right? Well, this can't be it, this is a flying island. They're in a dirty alley in a busy town on a flying island. They can see a street, and then - clouds for miles, falling away into grey far below.

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"Are we on Venus?"

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Maurice reassembles the air based pirates costume he had generated around himself, all royal purples and dizzying blues.

"Don't think so, they don't have streets."

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The wildlife is a mix between earthly and otherworldly, but yep, that's a baseline adult human who just walked past the alley without noticing them.

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"I wonder if rainbow skin is normal here or if he just didn't see me?"

Tentatively, and above Evan's protests, he steps out of the alley. 

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Rainbow skin is not normal here! Half a dozen people are surprised by him! A couple run off in the other direction. The others look confused and kind of frightened. They're muttering in a weird dialect of English.

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Maurice waves exuberantly. "Hello!"

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One of them steps forward and replies, "...Hello. Do you- Er. Why are you here?" Definitely nervous and scared.

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Evan darts out. "Um, our parents are traders."

That seems like an all purpose excuse, right?

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This is actually kind of reassuring! Kind of. Kids with lost tech might be dangerous. Parents that irresponsible with lost tech might be dangerous in their own right.

"Ah. Well, you'll scare people using that kind of - rainbow stuff - away from the docks."

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"Oh, that's just my skin. 'Cause of my powers."

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We are going to get burned at the stake.

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"Maybe you think you have powers, but it's some kind of tech. You should really go find your parents."

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"Sorry, mister, but I have to correct you. My cousin Evan has the tech. I have powers." He holds out an open palm, out of which fireworks pop and crackle. "See?"

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Fire!

"Fire! GYAAAH! STOP THAT THIS INSTANT YOU'LL BREW UP THE WHOLE CITY!"

The remaining bystanders scatter. Someone calls for guards.

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"Don't worry, it's just air that's a different colour. And some sound effects."

He proceeds to demonstrate this by making a pink lion coalesce next to him. 

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The one who's been talking to them runs away.

People come out of buildings, drawn by the cry of 'fire'. There's quite a lot of shouting for guards now!

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"Why is everyone running around?" Maurice asks, his voice carried unnaturally in the air.

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This does not elicit a useful answer. More running, if anything.

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Evan claps a hand over his friend's mouth. "Shut up and run!"

And with that, the gravity weave in Evan's playsuit activates, and the two are carried into the air.

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The city is very very vertically oriented. They fly up - only to see a different street, a different row of buildings. People here have heard the alarm and confusion below and quickly decide that the flying kids are the cause and start running and hiding as well!

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Maurice creates a technicolour disk beneath his feat, and Evan lets him step onto it. 

"I don't think they like us."

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"Well, duh. They must not have Miracles here."

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Someone tries shouting at them again. Things to the effect of 'stop using weird powers we don't understand!! Something could go terribly wrong!!'

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"Mind your own beeswax!" Evan shouts down at them.

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Then leave!!!

(Maybe they should go find their crossbows, where are the guards anyway???)

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"Fine, we won't stay where we aren't wanted."

The boys fly beyond the edge of the island, finding a cave on the underside to rest in.

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The underside of the island is fairly empty, though here and there there are windows, trash chutes, and the like. There's a lot of bulky rock down here at the very bottom, unlike the frail-looking stuff higher up.

They end up finding an abandoned, closed-off section with a collapsed passageway up and a couple of old buildings. The whole place seems pretty low-tech, aside from how it's floating.

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"We're gonna have to go back up later for food and water at least."

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He frowns at Maurice. "When we do, be pink."

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Maurice starts practising being caucasian coloured. 

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A couple hours later there is a scraping sound from somewhere up above. Looks like some kind of vent?

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"Hello?"

He's been working on making air-clothes that look more like those of the natives.

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Shuffle shuffle out pops a head!

"Oi, you found my secret spot!"

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"Oh, I'm sorry."

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"Well, it's not like I put my name on it. Since it's secret." He's not telling them about his stashes around here, though.

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Maurice perks up a bit. "So, what's your name?"

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"Nick! What's yours? How'd you two get down here anyway? You didn't go through my secret passage it was all dusty."

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"We... climbed."

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"You climbed. A-huh. I definitely totally believe that."

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"You don't do you."

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"Nope. You're the weird tech-hunters-or-ancestors-or-something who riled up Glass Street and half the guards in town."

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"Please don't burn as at the stake or something!"

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"I don't think I could if I wanted to."

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"You sent lookin' for us?"

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"Nah. This is my hideout, I said. I run away to here."

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"Why's that?"

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"Because it's an adventure!" He lies.

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"That doesn't sound like all of it."

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"I find good junk when exploring too, I guess. And sell it."

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"Okay then."

Maurice senses sad. Must resist urge to hug.

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"Anyway. You two look like you might have neat stuff to trade! Color tech!"

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Maurice goes colourful. Air pants thankfully remain. "I keep telling people, it's not tech!"

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"What else if not tech? Magic? Pffft."

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Evan shrugs. "Sorta."

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"No. Magic's fake. Magic is what stupid people think tech is. Even gooey stuff that doesn't look like tech is tech. Or natural." He shrugs.

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"Except Miracle powers."

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"Tech. You're not gonna convince me otherwise."

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"But I don't have any tech."

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"Then you had tech do something to you, or you are tech, or you're lying." He shrugs. "I'm not getting it apparently."

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"Are tech?"

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"I've heard stories about someone who touched an ancestor device and it put them to sleep and they woke up with super eyes and a metal arm."

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"That's... sorta what happened to me?"

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"Yep, I thought so."

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"But that just explains why I can do stuff like this:"

He parkours up into the vent.

"Not why I get rainbows."

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"...Well, nobody understands lost technology anyway. That's why it's so scary and cool at the same time."

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"You keep saying 'lost' technology."

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"Because we can't make stuff like that anymore? I know how to, like, make a clock or a balloon but not a rocket ship."

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"...What year is it?"

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"...One twenty three? Since the Gate Crash."

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"A hundred and twenty three?"

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"Yeah. I don't know what year it is in ancestor time but it's that in our time."

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"Do you know what a transhuman is?"

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"Uh, it's you two, I assume?"

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"Do you know anything besides that?"

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"Apparently you can fly? And do colors."

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"I fly on the colours."

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"So, can I get me some of that?"

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"Maaaybe. It's a virus."

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"So, what, you have to get sick to do it or something?"

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"Yeah. And usually you just die."

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"Well, that's a terrible design for ancestor tech."

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"It was probably aliens."

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"Aliens are real after all? Are angels and devils and dragons and dinosaurs real too?"

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"You don't know dinosaurs are real?"

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"Well, I've never seen one. Can dinosaurs and dragons fly? I mean, I know lizards are real and dinosaurs and dragons are supposed to be giant lizards. But you need to be small or fly in these parts."

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"Pterosaurs and Pterodactyls can fly," Maurice recites proudly. 

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"Most people have never seen dinosaurs! They're extinct on Earth! That's why we have books and museums." 

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"Books are pretty heavy. I like reading anyway, though."

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"...So?"

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"I guess you don't have any books with you then? Where'd you two come from anyway?"

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"Earth!"

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"I don't really actually believe that. Everyone knows the stargate exploded and nothing from Earth can get here anymore."

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"You just saw my cousin do magic stuff."

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"And you explained it. A tech virus. Being from Earth is on a whole 'nother island from that."

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"You scepticism is random."

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"Weird tech is a thing that happens a lot, visitors from Earth not so much. But maybe you're right. I just can't tell."

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"Rationality prevails!"

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He rolls his eyes. "So are you two gonna clog up my secret hideout all night or what?"

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"Pretty sure we're outlaws."

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"Oh, right, you spooked everyone earlier. Well, I don't think they got that good a look at you. If you change clothes and don't act weird again you'd probably be fine. I could show you how to get back up without flying too."

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"Do you have some spare clothes? Mine are made of magic."

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"Not here. I could fetch some of mine but that takes a while and risks someone finding my spot. In addition to being me giving away my stuff. Same thing with food and water. What've you got to offer in exchange for that?"

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"Supernatural tech brilliance?"

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"...Think you can figure out why my clock-work, doesn't? Work, that is."

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"Was that a pun? But yes, yes I can."

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"Yeah okay, I'll give you guys some clothes and food and stuff if you'll help me fix up my gadgets. You two never told me your names."

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"Evan."

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"Maurice."

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"I'll be right back. And by right back I mean back in an hour or two."

He scrambles back into his vent-based secret passage.

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"Think he'll come back?"

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"He seems shifty."

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He's back in closer to two hours than one. He seems more stressed and subdued than before, and is holding one arm a bit delicately.

He drags out two bags behind him after scrambling out of his passage. One contains two sets of loose shirt-and-pants plus plastic water bottles and a loaf of bread and a few apples. He opens this one and presents it to them. The other contains various things that make metallic noises as they're moved, probably his clockwork and gadgets.

"Hi again. Stuff's here."

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Maurice takes one of the sets of clothes, pulling them over the phantasmic ones he'd drapped himself in, dispersing them like unsettled fog. "Thanks."

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He notices the arm. "You hurt?"

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"What no I'm fine I'm fine."

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"...You sure?"

His voice sings with concern.

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"I am fine. Here have an apple." He lightly tosses one. "Evan, get dressed so I can show you my gadgets, I wanna show off."

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Evan neatly slips out of his suit and into the local clothes.

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And Nick shows off! He has half a dozen little gadgets, including a walkie-talkie and a clock and a little electric engine and something to do with controlling balloons.

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"Primitive, but plucky."

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"But impressive given my limitations? I wish I had lost tech to poke and figure out."

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"I'd let you look at my suit, but it's kinda my only one."

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"Fair enough. I might break it. You could tell me about it, though."

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"I'm pretty sure you don't have the words for it."

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"So make some up? Or borrow them? I heard you can learn new languages better before you're twelve. I'm not twelve yet."

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"Laws of thermodynamics, list them to me."

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"Uh. Rules about heat? Heat goes from hot to cold always, not backwards. Heat doesn't go away it just goes somewhere else. Uh..... Can't think of a third one."

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"Not bad for a primmie."

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"I'm guessing that's an insult. We're not stupid. We don't have much stuff. It's impossible to get new metal, we're just recycling what we already have, and metal is kind of important for most grandly high tech I think."

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"Inspirationally disadvantaged, got it. So, should we head upstairs?"

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"Maybe better not. They're putting up posters of you and searching all the ships, trying to figure out how you got here. Maybe give it a couple of days. I actually have a bed in that abandoned house right there."

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"...Why is that house abandoned?"

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"I think they just shut off this whole part of the city and let it stay here because you need something heavy at the bottom or it'll flip over."

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"Just checking, you aren't the weird slave of some murderer who lives in there, right? Because that once happened to us in an inn, and I can kill people with my feet."

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"Not that he would need to," Maurice adds.

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"If I'm anyone's weird slave it's my parents. Hours and hours of chores. But I'm done for today. Actually I lied I ran off to spend time with you guys, you are way more interesting than chores."

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"Thank you."

There's that aching sincerity and lack of archness again. 

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"So come in come in. And tell me about tech. Please."

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Maurice's idea of "tech" is art supplies.

"So vantablack is the blackest black, and doesn't reflect any light..."

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"Can you make any? Superblack could be useful for something. Probably."

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"I probably could."

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"It would not be in my top ten list of things to make being perfectly honest."

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"Flight?"

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"Yep. Think you can make an airship if I... Acquire... Enough materials and stuff?"

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"Easy peasy."

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"Well, I want to run away from home on an airship. Do you see the coincidence of wants here?"

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"Won't they miss you? Your parents I mean."

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"Yeah. But they stink as parents, so what?"

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"Reconciliation?"

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"Don't wanna. Dad will tell me to get a real job and stop dreaming about adventure or I'll be a useless slob pirate. Mom will look confused and sad and dad will yell at her and then she'll tell me to listen to my father. So, no, I want out."

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"But won't your Mum still be sad?"

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"Yeah. It stinks. But it stinks less than staying here."

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"His life, Maurice, his life."

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Maurice nods. "I guess."

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"So! What do I need to, er, buy, to make a ship with? Beyond like, wood and stuff for a place to stand."

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"Hydrogen or helium, probably, unless you use lome weird local fuel."

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"I can probably get some floatgrass down there. Lots of the local plants make hydrogen. What else?" He rummages around and fetches up a pad of paper and a pencil.

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"How do you navigate around here? If you can find anything magnetic I can probably make a compass."

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"You don't, mostly. You go by weather and the stars. I can maybe find a lodestone."

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"How good are you with constellations then?"

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"Shame you weren't wearing one of the suits with a compass."

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"Says the kid who was literally wearing air-pants. Also, we'll need fabric for a balloon." 

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"I can teach you the constellations. And I can get goldbeater's skin. Gas-proof balloon fabric. Plain old cloth, too."

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"And what do you use for steering columns or whatever?"

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"Wood and rope, maybe starglass, I guess?"

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"I'm guessing those aren't supernovas made solid?"

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"Nah, fancy poly-mer-ized glass."

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"Well, at least it's something we can get our hands on."

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"Yep. Maybe even good enough to be used in a ship."

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"So are there like, wanted posters up there for us?"

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"Nah, just lots of rumors and guards looking for colorful flying kids with 'dangerous technological artifacts'." He pulls out airquotes for the last three words. "You should be good to sneak around if you're any good at it. Maybe stick close to me in case you misunderstand something, though."

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"Let's go shopping then."

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"Shopping, or 'shopping'? Either way, follow me through the ductwork, gentlemen."

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"Definitely air quotes."

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"Not from anyone too poor, please?"

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"There are plenty of rich jerks. Stealing is kinda hard actually, though. With making-things powers and color-changing powers and local knowledge I'm sure we can figure something out."

Crawling through the vents isn't actually that hard, they're pretty large.

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Evan tries to make his superhuman athleticism clear. Nice not being the squishiest around for once.

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"Yeah, yeah, showoffs."

It takes about five minutes of clambering through ducts until they come out in an empty storage unit and go from there onto a dim street with houses and the like, and even a couple other people. "Act natural, okay?"

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Okay, act slow and clumsy, you can do this, Maurice!

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"You're, uh, maybe overselling it just a bit. You look drunk." This is very amusing, though.

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"Oh, sorry. Been years since I was human."

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"I'm sure you'll get used to it."

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"I'll copy you!" 

He probably didn't mean it that way.

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"Yes, clearly I am the best and you should totally copy everything I do."

There's definitely a particular way people walk here, something about their balance?

"So I was thinking we look through junk stores. They're pretty cheap and I know a few that like me. We'll probably need more money later, I have to think about how to get it."

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"We could busk!"

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"That might actually work if you're good!"

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"I can sing. And draw."

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"Maybe we say we're collecting money for something and sing and do music... If we look cute people are happier to give up some change..."

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Maurice allows himself a tiny bit of smug. "People say I'm very cute."

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"Hmm... If we say you two are trying to go home they'll just pity us, they think that's impossible. You don't go places around here. Not specific places like 'home' I mean. But maybe 'raising money for a school project'. I'll be learning something."

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"That pretend grownup thing you do might help."

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"I think I pull it off quite well, thank you. It does sort of depend on what sort of look we go for. And if anyone recognizes me."

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"How many people live here?"

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"I dunno, like thirty thousand?"

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"Thirty thousand people in the sky. Wild."