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Book Haven, Friday

The slow plastic offends the tame ditch. A dire rip pales below the fellow sketch. Your biography surrounds the toe against a severe verb. The freeze dictates around the gift.

Rufus raised his eyebrows, closed the book, and put it back on the shelf. That had made absolutely no sense to him.

He picked another book and flipped it open to a random page and read:

With the trade hardens the sliding school. An expert founds the pan next to an invisible energy. The rotated expressway triumphs before a contest. The pit calculates without whatever kid. Every sufficient juice fumes the nightmare under the relaxed father. The instinct fluid attends in a paying knight.

"I see," he said dryly, and reached for a third book. Third time's the charm, wasn't it?

Can a baking socialist rail beside the capitalist? The degenerate suffixes the upstairs residence. A witty monkey pales. Does a stiff physicist pay a sticking bird? The snail poses after the potential! The pain stalls the deal bullet.

Rufus put both of the books back with a sigh. He supposed this was the sort of thing Alana was talking about, when she'd mentioned odd things happened sometimes during store hours.

He should probably be grateful it was so benign.

It was still going to be a long day.

Book Haven is Open.

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Not that any of the books are going to make sense today!

He's given up on reading and is looking things up on his laptop instead.

Somebody in particular had been told to stop by after their villainy class, and so somebody in particular was stopping by after their villainy class, giving a skeptical look around, and then clunk-clunking over to Rufus, looking up at him with a raised eyebrow, and putting her hands on her hips.

"I'm here."

Yes, Peridot. Yes you certainly were.

"Apparently so," Rufus said, not bothering to look up from his laptop. "Congratulations on not getting lost."

Though, really, he'd made it to the store before her, despite having the same class. Maybe she had gotten lost.

Now he bothered to look up at her. "Given your recent difficulties with learning the language here, do you have a way to run a diagnostic on the similarities between two languages?"

… Rufus was as bad at hellos as she was.

"Normally I would," Peridot replied, holding up one arm to show off her... fingers, mostly. "My screen took some damage in my arrival, however. The processing capabilities that it has are normally far beyond those that any Earth computer can run," this wasn't even bragging, really, so far as she was concerned, "but until I can locate the proper tools or find the materials to create more robonoids, I'm unable to effect repairs."

"That's unfortunate," he said, since it would have made what he was doing much faster. "What tools and materials do you need?"

Finagling things between two universes would make it a little more difficult but Rufus was up for a challenge. It beat boredom.

"Manual helical threaded fastener rotators, a blunt-force impactor, some detail-orientated fulcrum-affixed handling levers..."

She could go on like this all day, Rufus. All. Day.

"Possibly a saw..."

Mostly like this all day.

His eyebrows raised as the list went on.

"All of this to repair your screen?" A saw?

Still, he was making note of it. Of all of it.

"No, that's simply to build the robonoids that can repair my screen," Peridot replied, waving a hand. "The actual physical components to my screen are all far too fine to manipulate with my touch-stumps without risking further damage. Besides, I'll only have five of them to work with."

Since her other hand actually was her screen.

"What will the robonids do after they've repaired your screen?" Rufus asked and then, after a moment, added, "Have you seen if Stark Industries can fix your screen? They handle technology repairs, amongst other things, from what I've gathered."

It was less interesting for him if she used them, but more efficient. Rufus could appreciate that.

"The robonoids will go into stasis and wait for the next item I need repaired," Peridot replied with a shrug. "They're a tool like any other."

Which was why she felt no compunctions against crushing one underfoot if it became damaged, itself.

"... I was not aware there was a Stark Industries. Do you suppose they can handle Gem technology?"

"I daresay they'd be willing to try," Rufus said, which he felt was rather obvious. It was their job to try. "If not, I can look into procuring the items you need, but going to them first would be more efficient."

She'd appreciate that too.

Peridot did value efficiency!

On the other hand...

"Would they require money in exchange for their services?"

She still didn't have any of that.

"They might," Rufus admitted, "though you may be able to explain to them that you lack funds. Perhaps, with your knowledge of technology, they'd be willing to give you a job so you can work off what you owe that way."

It amused him, rather than offended, that Peridot was not asking if his procuring funds would cost her money.

Well, Stark Industries was a business. So far as she was aware, Rufus was not.

She still wasn't completely certain if Rufus procuring tools would cost him money. Earth was confusing!

"They would give me an opportunity to work?" See, that got her attention. "Perhaps, if they have the proper tools there, I could make use of them myself, instead of relying on some random human clod to learn their way around my things."

"It's possible," he agreed. "I would advise looking into it. You would be expected to attend to work once a week, if they were to hire you, but given the lack of scheduled structure on this island, that should not pose a problem to your schedule."

"I have been trying to find something to fill my schedule with," Peridot admitted, looking thoughtful. "I don't... enjoy... sitting stagnant for long."

That was the proper context for the word 'enjoy,' wasn't it?

It was! She was getting better at this!

"Even those who say they do tend to appreciate some level of structure in their days," Rufus noted. "Stark Industries seems like it may be a good fit for you, if they're hiring."

Edited 2016-06-03 15:17 (UTC)

"So I just... walk in, talk to whoever is in charge, and then demand they give me a job?"

That seemed nice and straightforward!

"Demanding might be the wrong approach," Rufus said, wondering how on Gaia he'd come to this.

Him, guiding someone on how to get a job?

"Inquire, instead, as to if they are hiring. That allows the manager, or the owner of the store to know you're interested in the possibility of obtaining a position without stepping over bounds. If they have a position available, they will likely ask what your experience is and what interest you have in obtaining the position. You may be required to demonstrate competence at your understanding of technology. Try to be polite."

Rufus almost wished he could watch Peridot's interview, should she get a chance to have one.

"Polite," Peridot echoed, sounding skeptical at best. "Polite... isn't my area of expertise."

At least she recognized that?

"I noticed," he said dryly. "That's why I encouraged you to try."

Peridot made a little annoyed grunting sound, but didn't argue.

"I suppose... I could try to operate within acceptable human parameters of politeness... if it means securing a job."

She didn't have to like it, though.

"You may get lucky and discover a boss who is alright with less politeness," Rufus said blandly. "But you should go in politely until you know. It's the smart thing to do."

And that, really, was Peridot's top priority, right there.

"Well... how do I know if I'm being rude?"

Rufus actually paused at that, and looked at her.

"I see," he said noncommittally.

No, he wasn't going to explain what it was he saw to her. She was that badly socialized?

"Do you treat your superiors on our Homeworld the same way you speak to me?"

"Of course not," Peridot replied, shaking her head. "I don't salute you. My managers and other superiors on Homeworld are all treated with the respect they deserve."

Which wasn't to say that Rufus didn't deserve respect, necessarily. Just... not the same sort that she'd give to, say, Yellow Diamond.

"Don't salute anyone," he advised. Once he ran the world, there'd be enough people to salute him in any case.

"But treat the owner of the store more like you would one of your managers."

Oh, Rufus. Someday some poor, hapless store owner would find themselves receiving formal reports on the state of the business, and they'd have you to thank for it.

"I think I can do that," Peridot decided, looking thoughtful.

He'd appreciate formal reports on the state of his business, if she were his employee.

"Good," Rufus said, and leaned back in his chair. "Now, there was the matter of getting you a dictionary."

And there was the magic word, right there. Peridot perked up a little, expression hopeful.

"Have you got one? Where is it? Let me see it!"

"There's many, many dictionaries," he said, getting up and coming around the counter. "This way, follow me."

"Many? How many dictionaries does a person need in order to have a firm grasp on the language?"

She'd take that many, happily. Peridot looked around curiously as she followed after Rufus.

"That depends on what you're using them for," Rufus said, as they went down aisles of books--there were more books in the building than the outside would indicate. "For general conversation, likely only one. But others are specialized towards certain levels of education and certain fields."

"That makes sense," Peridot said, as a sort of realization dawned on her. "Especially if it's in this physical format and not inputted into computers for storage. I suppose there really is only so much space for it all."

"That's right," Rufus said, as they turned down onto the reference books aisle. "There are dictionaries online, but until your screen is fixed, a hard copy would likely suit your needs better."

Also sometimes it was just nice to have a hard copy dictionary anyway.

It would give Peridot experience with 'alphabetical order,' which couldn't hurt either.

"I'm not entirely certain my screen would be able to interface with the human 'internet' anyway," she noted. "Though I suppose it can't hurt to find out."

I found a random paragraph generator. I love it.

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Book Haven, Friday

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