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WHO: Yondu Udonta | OTA
WHAT: Yondu has a search for some company derailed by a mirage
WHEN: A week and a half after the explosion
WHERE: A dingier part of the city
WARNINGS & NOTES: References to sex work and references to dying

Yondu's heart isn't what you'd call open. Now, without the presence of his crew and without the ability to use his arrow as intimidation he's had to moderate his behavior. But he's still got his walls up, he's still mostly getting along with people based on practicality, and he's still not willing to search for an actual companion even this far into his dumbass life.

This is the worst of the reasons as to why he's taking some of his wages and looking for a companion for the night.

Worker droids are the best back home. They can erase memories, have lots of tricks programmed in, and they're not gonna judge a body that's covered in scars and wear. Problem is he don't know if any of these damned places have something of that sort. Instead, he's wandering the dingiest, shameful part of this utopia looking at the selection of girls offered on lit signs that aren't always scrolling or flickering they should.

It's in the middle of his trolling that, instead of a prospective business to patronize, he sees a familiar broad shouldered towheaded Terran walking down the sidewalk, drifting in between busy foot traffic composed mostly of perverts, drunkards, and cheapskates. A sea of inconvenient failures he just nearly lost track of Peter in.

"...Hey! Hey Quill!" He shouts. The kid doesn't hear him.

It still feels like a heartbeat since he 'died'. He had his last admission, an acceptance of his fate and penance for a life full of bullshit, the cold and silence sinking in as he realized he'd be dying the same as so many more of his crew. The better of 'em, anyway. He said what he said, but he would have liked to have known if the boy'd felt the same way. Peter didn't argue the point at the time, at least. He'd just looked at Yondu up until the point that Yondu couldn't see him no more.

The Ravager is moving before he even knows he's moving. He's shoving by people, nearly knocks a woman over. "Quill!" he shouts again. "Hold up! It's me."

But he doesn't stop. And when Yondu grabs his arm and spins the guy around, it's a fella with a big mustache and a modded third eye in his forehead. Looking very, very offended.

The old captain jerks his hand back, looking just as offended even if he has no right to be. As if this guy turning out to have nothing like the face he thought he saw was some great hostile act against him personally. He yanks back completely and starts storming off, kicking a clanky can from the path as noisily as possible. Because pissy displays of angry noise with an accompanying growling shout are the best way to show off one's patient personality and not make people veer around you as if you're a madman.

Maybe they're not far off, he figures, if he's seeing nonsense.

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"Now that I wouldn't be able to pinpoint," David admits. Too many people, from too many places and times. Who is to say who is even real here. If any of them are. It's an existential crisis he'd rather not focus on.

"For now, I'm acting as if it's real. I don't want to make the mistake of not and get hurt because of it."

"Yeah, I think that might be the better plan." He says it distantly, though, like he's still considering it.

"Right, well. What's the name o' this place?" He falls into step again, rubbing the scruff on his chin as he thinks.

"Better U," David says, cringing at the name. Someone is maintaining a business and the business name is killing him. Branding matters, and this is the worst part of it.

All he can do is look around, until he finds a mostly falling apart sign with the words he said, dingy on it. Dammit. This place doesn't look hygienic.

They reach the place and Yondu doesn't seem even slightly discouraged. He pushes his way right through the door, looking for someone to talk to, and already having a look around at the superficial contents.

A good sign already, he can see some clear model heads showing some cybernetic prosthetics. He wanders over to one, having a look at it. An augmented eye rooted in a head, black with a silvery iris, thick threads of artificial nerves trailing back into a fake clear jelly brain.

You'd think it'd dissuade people. As would the discounts on some of them. But there's a lady with a beehive hairdo in there casually flipping through a magazine and waiting their turn to talk to the help.

Well, now David is definitely curious about what is going on. He spends a bit time considering the display before sighing and turning his attention to Yondu. "I'd probably steer clear of ocular upgrades for right now. We don't need to wire new things in for you."

Get the current thing working first, thanks."

"No, no. I ain't interested in havin' that. It looks a little like Krylorian work. We had a guy with an eye implant on the crew. We could switch around how the wirin' functioned an' hook him into a security camera feed. Give 'im a handheld switch an' he could flick between views."

Made a damn good look-out during a bank heist.

Yondu straightens up, smoothing out his lapel after that brief, strange reminiscing.

"I think I see how most of these work. Tech's understandable, so I'm bettin' that whatever they got to work on people ought to be able to see in me just fine." And if something's wrong with him, he figures they should find it. "How much you know about Kree tech?"

Okay, that actually sounds sort of useful. And was part of why David had made his glasses. But he supposed it could be better to really know what was going on as if he was seeing it i n person.

"A good bit. Not as much as I know about Skrull, but I recently got a pretty good crash course in it. We'll see if I can trigger internal diagnostics systems first, before picking too much at wiring. If that's okay with you."

Never heard of Krylorian, but there are so many races out there.

"Yeah, sounds about the right way." And with that, Yondu goes to the front counter, finding a buzzer he can ring insistently, and then find his card with his credits on it. He's always hated trackable cash- barter is the best when that comes into play. But he'll take what he can manage for the moment.

"Shouldn't be too hard. It's just a little hard for me to see what's on top of my own head." He actually chuckles a little, finally, reminded of how fucking ludicrous it is that his primary defense mechanism is impossible to fix on his own. Probably the best for the Kree, though, when they were rigging him up. Right now it's just a pain in the ass.

Listen, barter is a bad way to handle an economy, because things vary too much. But to each their own, especially since Yondu is a Ravager. The guy is meant to be not noticed. That wasn't true of David. He wanted to go under the radar, but not that much.

"Which is why we've got another set of eyes for you. But have you ever considered getting guns or something? If your weapons can't be maintained by yourself, it's a bad thing, right?"

The Kree are conniving and David doesn't really like that. But the one he knows is good enough.

"Plannin' on it. I can use guns just fine." He can grab a kitchen knife and do a lot of damage. The arrow isn't the only thing he can fight with. The arrow is just the best one, and an extension of himself at this point.

"Knives, too, an' they don't require no upkeep. I can use most vehicles pretty damn good once I got a feel for 'em. Just commentin' on how funny it is, that's all."

Strangely enough, repairing vehicles wasn't something David had been that great at before. Except for planes. And what he had learne dhe's mostly lost since coming here.

"I'll keep you in mind if I need something repaired then."

"Yeah, no problem. I'm gonna owe you one after this." Because even if the kid is forthcoming with his help, he doesn't think anyone should do everything entirely freely.

"I could show you how to use a lotta stuff, too. Even if this place seems to be slim on the fighter ships."

Because that's what you teach a teenager, right?

Fighter ships? David will happily pass on that. There isn't a point to it, and he's learned how to fly a Kree ship already. But perhaps there is cultural things that David can pick up on.

"That sounds fair, you know, once I get you fixed up. Payment without success seems a bit iffy."

"I ain't expectin' you to be successful. It'd be nice if this got fixed. But if this is somethin' bad enough to make me see stuff? We're just takin' this first look, figure it out from there. HEY! We're out here ya slow-ass bastard!"

Yondu calls into the back, bitchy as ever, and leans on the counter and dips his head miserably.

This hadn't been his plans for the night. Ridiculously, he actually looks at the woman with the beehive hairdo and wonders if he can sweet-talk her later. But she does look like the sort that'd be waitin' for a call back which he wouldn't be dialin'. He's a prick. But he ain't that big a prick.

Okay, that bit of bitchiness earns a light chuckle from David. Of course Yondu was the sort to be impatient.

But apparently cursing was the right option, because a beefy guy comes from the back, his body clearly quite heavily modded, and he glares at Yondu and David, up at the counter.

"What the fuck, man? Trying to work back where. Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do ya want?"

"We need to use your scannin' equipment to take a look at my mod. Payin' usage fees." He taps his head, checking out the mods as he gives him a once over.

Well, he guesses if the guy has access to the equipment, he might as well build himself up. He would have recruited this guy in a heartbeat a few months ago. Jesus christ.

"Normally this is some top-notch adjustable visual/audio trigger shit an' it's got no reason to be foulin' up. Gear us up an' it shouldn't take more than ten minutes to get a first look." He motions between himself and David.

The guy stares at them both for a while. Watches them, looking between the two of them. And David just offers a gentle smile. The man sighs and shakes his head.

"Twenty duos for every ten minutes."

David definitely wants to protest the idea that the guy is charging so high, but he's going to leave it to Yondu. He's more scary for negotiating.

"Probably cheaper than what I was gonna use it for," he offers without further explanation. "Alright, I can do that." That's long enough, at least, to get a pretty good map of his head. Especially if David takes some pictures with his phone.

"Twenty duos for twenty minutes. An' a copy of the battletech. Up to this point it's run for three decades with low maintenance, even after head trauma. Could be somethin' you could apply to somethin' else." He firmly pats David on the shoulder.

The man frowns at the idea of it. Less money, but potential value. But he might not know how it works. At last David reaches out and puts a hand on Yondu's shoulder.

"Show him the arrow. He should at least understands what he's getting into."

Yondu pulls back his coat, showing the arrow in its holster, and whistles. This time it is strong enough to come out of the holster, to stop jarringly in front of the man's head, a dead stop in the air just inches from his face. Before he veers it off to the side and it pings against the wall and down onto the countertop.

"An' it's supposed to go a lot longer than that. But since I got here, the damn Head knocked somethin' loose in my head an' I need to get it fixed."

The man's eyes go huge, and he gestures for the two of them to follow.

"See, show and tell always works," David chuckles as he gestures for Yondu to join him. "It is a good trick.

"Y'ain't seen what it can really do yet. Not 'til I undo whatever got me held back." Though, one day, he suspects it would be very obvious why he was held back. He sure as shit won't be letting any damn robots take him in while he can still stand upright.

But for now he follows the guy into one of the work rooms, undoing the scarf around his neck so it's not in the way if he needs to move his collar to the side.

The man watches them briefly before heading a bit further away, clearly intending to give David room. And David, for his part, is focused mostly on determining what tools in the room are the most useful.

"Please sit, Yondu. I want to get started.

Yondu takes a seat, reaching up and remembering the right way to detach the top cover of the fin without actually needing to look. That bit he can do himself.

That leaves all the wires and strobing lights visible.

He's gotten used to showing it. He's not terribly self-conscious. But dimly he aware that without the covering it's not really pleasant to look at.

Oh wow. That is a lot of serious tech there. David, behind Yondu, just smirks. This is going to be fun. Perhaps for other people it's not pleasant, but for David this is a beautiful technological problem. Yes, this is going to be fun.

"Let's get this started then."

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this might be a good place to ftb and handwave?