"Coming."
Daryl didn't even look up or back at Stanley's comment.
A metallic clang echoed from somewhere deeper inside the workshop, followed by the whiff of steam. Where was that even coming from?
Stanley stepped through the open doorway, letting it slide shut behind him.
The workshop felt different after the breakfast pack-up. The family atmosphere, the jokes and Jordan's complaints had vanished. Only the machinery, tools, and unfinished projects were around him, and Stanley would soon talk about those pent-up feelings. He was concerned about how he'll have to talk about them.
And the room so happened to be quiet. Well,
As quiet as a room full of machinery and gadgets could be.
The steady hum of unknown machinery filled the background while dozens of pipes vibrated at a low hum of air above half-finished weapons and gizmos. The air smelled faintly of burnt steel, diesel and freshly coated wax.
Daryl stood at one of the longer benches with another spanner resting in his hand. A bigger one.
He hadn't even turned around and was nearly at the stairs that went straight up and left, above the small room to his left.
"You close the roller door?"
Stanley looked behind himself.
"…no."
This was when Daryl finally turned around.
Daryl: "Press that button near the entrance to the doors, Stan."
Stanley walked back, went through the tables, and went close to the roller doors, then spotted it.
BEEP! The red button glowed.
The sound next was a whirring of the roller doors being deployed.
"Good," Daryl said, turning his head back before walking up the stairs. Then he stopped.
After a pause, Daryl looked at the handles of the stairway before him. Stanley looked at Daryl, confused.
{Is he, like, seeing a mistake right now? I mean, he is a mechanic and builder. It is probably the reason.}
Daryl tightened another bolt before tossing his bigger spanner somewhere behind him without looking.
A robotic arm caught it that was hidden above the hanging lights.
Stanley blinked fast and stared at the thing that came out of nowhere.
"Did you know that was there?" Daryl said.
"No?" Stanley said.
"Lucky." He muttered to himself.
"It usually catches it." At the start of the staircase, he stared for a long moment before his lips pushed forward in the faintest pout. One eyebrow arched with effortless scepticism, as if whatever he'd just heard had failed to meet even his lowest expectations. He crossed his arms with the appearance of being unimpressed.
Stanley stared at the machine in the air. It descended its arm down, dropped the spanner on the table with the least stuff slowly unfurling its fingers, and retracted back up, being hidden.
"Usually?" He was confused and intrigued.
"It missed yesterday," Daryl said.
"…What happened?"
"It hit Magnus. The spanner.'
Stanley couldn't help but be concerned, but the faint grin on Daryl's face suggested that he'd be fine.
"Did he-Magnus deserve it?"
"Absolutely," he spoke confidently.
Another silence settled over the workshop. Daryl was now further up the stairs, Stanley walking up closer.
Not awkward, just comfortable enough to be actually personal with each other. No longer the fake stuff.
Daryl finally wiped his hands on his denim pants while looking at the spanner before turning towards Stanley.
He stopped smiling.
The joyful inventor and engineer from yesterday was gone.
The humour disappeared from his face so naturally that Stanley wondered if it had ever been genuine to begin with. His lime eyes became less bright when he lowered his eyelids. He looked like he was experiencing apathy.
Daryl: "Get up here. Let's talk it out now."
Stanley: "Yeah." As Stanley was climbing the stairs in small steps, Daryl waited at the round wooden table with four chairs.
The so-called "break space" was miserable as a poor retail lunch break area. On the left were rails to stop anyone from falling. On the right were a few dark moss cabinets lined up against the wall. It looked like it had been assembled from whatever the group gave away. The lights that faintly dimmed the whole place were a singular hanging light that had to be pulled with a string. The floor was metal, black and sturdy, at the top of the room below the roof. Daryl sat on the far-side plastic white chair, next to the corners of the rails, and another was closer to Daryl; the others were on the other side of the wooden table. Two on one side, two on the other.
"So." Daryl ushered Stanley to come closer with an emotional wave.
Stanley leaned smoothly against the plastic chair with his hands gripping each other.
"So, um, can I ask why there are initials on two of the chairs?" He pointed at the inner parts of his chair, and the one closer to Daryl.
Daryl: "Oh, um, the original three of Broken Halo. Me, Tallurre, Ren, Magnus." His face remained nearly still. Only the slight tightening of his lips showed the thoughts he chose to speak aloud.
Stanley: "Well, I didn't know y'all were the originals."
Silence from both sides.
{This place looked like they just bought it. I didn't expect the group to start this small this early on this planet. Did Tallurre lie to me? Did they really get this planet this early?}
"Stanley: "Well, can I ask what happened to Ren? I know he's been m-"
Daryl: "Got trapped by CELESTICA after his ego got too big fighting a Chief Officer. That's it. Don't need to say anything else, Stanley." He spoke firmly and harshly. It was a sensitive part for him.
"You got any family?"
Stanley hadn't expected that.
"Yeah, mate."
"Alive?"
"Some, I suppose." Stanley pulled out the chair and sat down comfortably.
Daryl nodded slowly while looking at him.
"Good."
Stanley slightly frowned.
"That's all you wanna ask?"
"What?" Daryl looked genuinely confused.
"I expected another question."
Daryl: "Most people don't like talks as it apparently sounds like an "interview."
"I mean…" Stanley shrugged
" I know people, Stanley. I'm right here."
"…"
"Thought so."
He turned his head towards the fence rail on his right, which was Stanley's left.
He put his arms together on it, then slumped his head together. Daryl then tapped his right hand at a rhythmic pace."
"You know…"
Daryl spoke while looking down.
"I REALLY don't like asking people about their past."
Stanley folded his arms and leaned back.
A few seconds passed.
Stanley: "Why ask then?"
"Because we're probably going to die together painfully."
"…"
"I'm serious."He knew what Stanley's silence meant.
The tapping stopped.
Daryl, without turning his head, looked at Stanley with his eyes, who was looking back as usual, blank.
"I don't need to know every detail."
He shrugged.
"I just want to be important to someone."
Daryl: "I just." He paused. " I don't want mechanics to be the only reason people remember me. That shit came too fast when I was younger. hm."
Stanley squinted his eyebrows slowly.
"So, you were known for mechanics younger?"
A small pause, one long enough to make Stanley question himself.
"Yeah. Fucking won a rookie invention comp by a large margin apparently.""Oh?"
"Yeah. After that broadcast and the shit I showed on stage, Aethon and Myria's company scouts tried recruiting me."
Daryl took his arms off the metal rail and turned to the wooden table to see a face of annoyance, concern and anger.
Stanley slammed his hands onto the table.
"DUDE! MYRIA? THAT SHUTTLE COMPANY THAT'S KNOWN FOR THE BEST PAYCHECKS AND HOSPITALITY IN ANDROMEDA?"
Daryl smiled; his eyes didn't match it, though.
"You know whose offer I accepted when all those people went to me?"
"Whose? W-wait…"His smile started to register up to his eyes now.
"Yep. Magnus Turner, the legend who was unknown at t-"
"OH HELL NO YOU DIDN'T!"
Stanley's fists rubbed against the smooth wood.
"Y-"
"NO!"
He leaned back into the chair and put his hands on his face in disbelief.
"Can I speak?" His tone changed back from mildly happy to apathetic.
"Oh, yeah. Sorry."
"Well, Magnus, before I went on to the stage with a cool invention, I'll show you later that you'll know, said "MR. Carter?"
"My mom was next to me at the time, wishing me luck behind the outdoor stage, heard me say, apparently, "Yeah sir?" To a really confident bearded man in a brown jacket.
He shook his head.
"I would never say that formal stuff now, but Magnus replied with something like, "I got a cool idea, right? I'm an up-and-coming business owner, and I'm looking for talent. Your son may have it from just the general appearance of that Eonic ball." He turned to me and said, "I want to get to know you. We might have a good career together, you know?" He leaned down to my short self and hand shook me. Heh.
A second of pause.
Stanley: "Uh huh." he nodded.
{Eonic? Where the hell would he have gotten his hands on a valuable Kaelorian metal like that? What fucking invention is he talking about?}
"And since I was fourteen and someone who could tell the difference between rubidium and Eonium was finally in front of me, I was damn curious. My mom, however, was sceptical, but got sold later."
He slumped back into his chair.
"A few chats later, and I was damn sure this man was quite the interesting one. He didn't try to flex his title, focused more on praising me and my mum, and looking damn happy. I thought, I've got all this talent on me; I'll talk to this guy after this."
Daryl pointed towards himself. Then mimed Magnus. Then his mom. Then pointed towards an imaginary crowd.
"When I was ready to present my invention to the judges in front of cameras and a big crowd, He tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Make sure to keep a grin like this, and bow when you enter and leave to the judges and audience." He made a jolly grin that looked happy, not uncanny, which made me more confident than ever."
Stanley: "Yeah. Magnus. Did he run up to you after? or?"
He shook his head.
"Nah man, He stood near a palm tree on some flat grass while ten people went up to me with papers, pens and suits. I soon declined them after some good thinking about their deals, and I walked up to him, as he went up to me for me, not for my skills. The people behind me were definitely confused, haha!"
He chuckled to himself, and Stanley''s mood got raised.
Stanley: "Magnus picked the right guy; that's all I need to say."
"I'm sure he did, man."
"One thing I've noticed, right: you normally don't say the names of people."
He put his hands together flatly and put them on the table.
"It's only Sheng-Ri and me. Heh. You got feelings for me?"
He lightly giggled at his comment, which triggered Stanley.
"NO." Just a loud no. Hard and plain.
"Haha! Well, I need to know something here at least, man, even one line. That would dedicate me to my craft, not making a soulless tool."
Silence. Daryl looked at Stanley, who was looking up at the dim white-yellow light, thinking hard.
Stanley: "Well, I was born a Suran, in Demetrius's void, right, but because of the infamous Tallurre silth case, I-"
"Whoa, what? There's actually shit in that void? My bad for disrespect, but that's insane!"
He muttered to himself, "Crazy Suran, Crazy Fortine." Stanley raised his eyebrow hearing that.
"No, don't worry, I get that a lot. actually. People tend to forget I come there after I mention it. Well, I left Suran there on a shuttle to Polonian Lepidus, that cyberpunk-looking earthling planet.""Hmm." He put his hand up, using it as a resting place for his head while he listened.
"I wanted to be a music producer, so I came there, met the love of my world named Diane, who was a Euphor, and became an underground artist who made big hits of the rage, hip-hop and opium soundscape." He brightly lit up at the mention of his ex, which was unusual physically."Ooo. Music huh? Maybe in another life, you could've been a Nullari."
Stanley quietly smirked and made a noise. humph.
"Maybe. But if I do get a weapon about me, don't make it a sonic or sound weapon." He looked to his left. If you did, just give it to Oblivion. It'll be more useful in his hands because I want a weapon with a clear, concise aim and strong power that'll tear through stuff depending on how I set the shooting size."
Daryl, hearing this, got intrigued.
"Laser, Rail, what do you need, man?" A smaller smile appeared on his face. He learned something new about Stanley.
A pause. Stanley still felt unsure about his choice.
"Well, let's decide."
Stanley then looked down at the many benches on the floor. Daryl instantly registered this as an invitation to start making plans for something.
"So, You want to help make a pl-"
Roller doors started lifting. Both of them darted their heads to the entry point. Once the gap was big enough, A new person to Stanley bent down and waved at them.
Daryl recognised them.
"AY JOHNNY! HOW ARE YOU DOING, MAN!" He instantly waved back expressively. Stanley looked back at him, wondering how he could switch that fast. Nobody can change that quickly, can he?