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The Salle, Thursday After Classes

A trip to the causeway this morning had not accomplished anything for Cassandra. This had left her irritated. As did the candidness of everyone she had stood as much as near today, even if they were generally not speaking to her.

So she went where she always did if she wanted to feel better: the salle. She had discarded her local clothing in her room and put the armor back on. Then she had picked up her sword at the locker - she was beginning to reconsider letting them take it from her, but at the moment she would continue complying.

In as much as what she was doing to one of these poor dummies right now could be considered complying. Slash-block-kick-slash-arm-breast-head and all with the ferocity of someone who was actually attempting to dismantle the dummy. Yes. She was most definitely calming now.

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DECA had locked Andros out of the healing chamber on the Megaship with some flimsy excuse about core body temperature that translated as 'I'm even more worried about your mental state than usual.' And, yeah, Andros had been spending a lot of time with Zhane lately, but between ethics class stirring up memories and what was going on today, he didn't think he could be blamed.

DECA had then locked him out of the system entirely for twenty-four hours when he tried to reprogram her, meaning he couldn't even access the SimuDeck, so if he wanted to take out his frustrations on something, it was going to have to be one of the dummies in the salle.

He nodded to the girl who was already present when he entered, then headed over to the practice swords to find one with a weight and balance at least similar to his Spiral Saber.

Out of a brief, fleeting sense of curiosity, Cassandra tossed the newcomer a look.

She grunted in a way that could be interpreted as... something of a greeting.

"You're new, right?" Andros asked, and then mentally kicked himself for not sticking to the 'just don't talk to anybody until tomorrow' plan.

"If by 'new', you mean 'newly arrived', then yes," Cassandra said, delivering an attack to the dummy's leg. "I am new. And you are not, I assume."

She wasn't much for lying any day, honestly.

Andros picked up a likely-looking practice sword and took a couple of swipes with it, then frowned at it and put it back on the rack. "No, I'm not. I'm Andros. Which has nothing to do with whether or not I'm new." Ugh.

"My name is Cassandra Pentaghast," Cassandra said. "And I would not waste too much time on those practice swords. Many of them are ill-balanced."

"Yeah, I'm noticing," Andros agreed sourly, "but I can't use my sword right now," because he wasn't morphed, and he was so glad he'd managed to avoid blurting that out, "so these are what I'm working with." No, that one was terrible, too.

"Your island needs more blacksmiths," Cassandra said irritably. "It needs more of many things."

"It's not my island," Andros corrected. "I'm not even from this planet. My planet has way better technology." And he had been raised with better manners than to point things like that out, but apparently that was out the window today.

Cassandra snorted. "As if the technology on the island itself does it much good."

"They still use fossil fuels," Andros complained, like that was terrible. He took a couple of swings with another sword, and, "Okay, this one isn't completely terrible."

"It still makes you overly favor one side," Cassandra said critically, looking his way. "Do not get in the habit of practicing with these."

"I'm not planning on it," Andros assured her. "But today my ship's AI locked me out of all functions, so I can't use the facilities there, and I really want to hit something. So it'll do."

"I only understood half of what you just said," Cassandra admitted.

"I have a spaceship with a facility that's kind of like the Danger Shop, if you've used that yet. AI's artificial intelligence. Like a computer with a personality. Mine's really obnoxious." A beat. "Well, she only wants what's best for me, but we butt heads on what that is." Another beat. "Because I'm self-destructive. Hi, I'm considering taping my mouth shut."

Cassandra let out an irritated huff and took a step away from her dummy. "This still tells me nothing," she said. "I know not what a spaceship is, or a computer. Are you self-destructive, then?"

"You've been here over a week and you don't know what a computer is?" Andros was kind of impressed. "A spaceship is a ship that travels through space instead of water. A computer is...it's a computer. Like a box or a pad or something that holds programs that let it do things like run complex calculations or store huge amounts of information. Or play games. And yes. Ugh!" Stupid island.

"I have been here for over a week attempting to find some way to leave," Cassandra said curtly. "I have my suspicions that this island is dangerous, and I would prefer not to linger for longer than I have to."

"It's only dangerous periodically," Andros assured her. "And even then it's not that dangerous." Not compared to the active war zone Andros was from, anyway.

Cassandra snorted. "These strange occurrences I am frequently told of could not happen if this island did not have a close connection to the Fade," she said, "which makes it very dangerous indeed, regardless of how it appears to behave."

"I don't know what a Fade is," Andros admitted.

"It is the realm we all go to when we dream," Cassandra said. "It is where magic lives and spirits and demons dwell. It is very dangerous."

"Yeah, I don't think that's a thing where I come from," Andros said after thinking about it for a moment. "We must come from really different universes."

"Or perhaps the connection between the Fade and the physical world is not as strong in your world as it is in mine," Cassandra said. "Anything is possible. I do not believe the Maker made mistakes."

"Where I come from, we have the Morphing Grid...which I'm not really supposed to talk about on this planet," Andros told her, making a face at his unplanned honesty. "It's not dangerous or anything--definitely no demons--it helps people, but only a few people can use it."

"What does it do?" Cassandra asked immediately, because of course she was going to ignore hints like 'I shouldn't talk about this'.

"It lets people become Power Rangers so they can fight the forces of evil. We get access to special gear and weapons, and sometimes vessels called Zords."

Maybe she wouldn't notice that 'we.'

She did, but frankly, Cassandra found that to be the least relevant part of what she had just been told. "'Power Rangers'," she echoed. "What evils do they fight?"

"Bounty hunters, quantrons, and other minions of the self-styled Emperor of Evil who's out to conquer the universe, mostly. Or, you know, their planet's equivalent of that." Earth in his universe had had a real run of bad luck, that way.

She frowned. "So they are a kind of police...? Templars?" she volunteered slowly.

"I don't know what Templars are," Andros admitted. "Are they a kind of soldier in your world?"

"They are a little like soldiers," Cassandra replied. "They serve the Chantry and guard the mages."

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The Salle, Thursday After Classes

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