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The andalite stood nearby once the other said "please don't eat me." Honestly, if he knew how to laugh, he would! That was funny!

The mouthless centaur-shaped thing brought his main eyes' lower lids up, another sort of andalite smile that was common amongst his race. <You are quite silly! Andalites eat grass, not people,> he replied, opening his eyes afterwards. He swayed his tail gently, pleased by the other's humor. Or was he joking? The andalite couldn't tell.

<Would you be more comfortable with me in a different form? I may morph a gedd, if that would make you more comfortable. I just wouldn't suggest watching me as I do so.>

"Like.... Like horses? ... Do you eat hay? And... carrots?" The boy wasn't really all that sure if he should be asking anything at all. Maybe they were nice now but if he would offend it, the blue creature would stomp all over him and kill him... Shoot. Maybe they found horses to be very offending and rasist? He was in trouble now

For some reason though, he wasn't as tence anymore. There was something that made him feel at least a little bit at ease, but not fully. He was still rather petrified when it came to moving

And apparently the creature was capable of shapeshifting too; maybe they are actually ugly big headed octopus monsters with huge sharp teeth and they smell bad? Oh heavens.
The boy covered his face with his hands.

"No. No more weird things. Please?"

<No, I don't eat hay and carrots; I prefer plain grass,> the andalite replied, still watching the other with his main eyes. The whole horse thing didn't offend him, honestly, he didn't even know what a horse was to begin with.

Or carrots, either. And hay.

<What are horses and carrots and hay?> asked the alien.

Mercury comes running and falls over me. "Damn it Mercury... S-Sorry... This is my android." I stand up and said android gets up and stands behind me, a couple inches taller.

Taking a deep breath inside the canopy, the Ranger took a brief moment to recover from the possible ambush, something the Masked Man were accustomed to. The uncountable blast marks and scrapped frame of his fighter's thick hull made a clear signal to previous encounters of this nature. Diving his arm deep into a socket into the cockpit, the Ranger drew a drawer-like compartment, smelling of rust and gunpowder.

And there it was, his personal favorite; Lucian Defender HVEC Anti Personnel Handgun. It felt like a Revolver, it worked almost like a Revolver. It was the technically hindered Eridanus Supervoid-Border Community equivalent to the good 'ole Remington 1875. The only difference is that no kid or nameless men would ever need to reload the hyper accelerated tungsten pellets for a whooping hundred 'o blasts.

Grasping unto the only thing worth to be called his "friend", the Mad Ranger squeezed his way out of the canopy, kicking the shutter's airlock above him a couple of times, until it's safety tethers let out a heavy snap, popping the door open instantly. Stretching his arms and legs before setting himself out of the door, the Ranger only have started to feel the difference in gravity from the space to this planet. Clumsily climbing into the canopy's external side, he attempted a rather awkward plunge into the ground, 16 feet below, falling miserably unto his back...

Despite the loud, cursing scream that came out from the mask, no ribs or femours were broken in this scene. Space really took it's toll on his body...

"Umm...." the moy started "Horses are, like... Animals...." He had no idea how he should explain it. What if the blue centaur had never even seen anything that Toffi would call an animal, or what it would be calling an animal. It was complicated and he was getting nervous...

"Carrots... Ummmmm....... They are shaped like this.." The boy drew a triangle resembling a carrot in the air with his finger, trying to keep it 'as typical as it could be'. "They are orange and... and.... They're good..? And hay is the yellow stuff that grows on the fields?" He had pretty much never visited a barn or a farm or anything much - at least with 'logic' and the general work in mind - so he wasn't all too clear on wether it was just that simple or if he should be saing more



[ Someone ambush the ranger! It'll be fun~ ]

The droid peaked itself out of the bushes and watched as the man came tumbling down out of the spacecraft. it gave a scan which emitted a neon grid that swiped from head to toe giving basic data and the current damage report to their body. No damage was their but an unmeasurable amount of Vertigo or something had overtaken the mans body and so the droid stepped up to the man, and quickly injected the man with a relaxant that allowed the muscles and veins to expand and calm down, easing the pain that the man might be processing at the time. The droid watching over the man who had just ejected himself from the crash had responded to the relaxant he just gave the man "please allow at least 5 minutes of rest for your vertigo to cease" the droid told Mad Ranger "I have given you a relaxant, allowing your muscles and veins to expand and calm" and the droid remained on standby

[EDIT] (Drat. Disregard this, I'll rewrite it later or something. I'd written an ambushing of the Ranger but you got to it first X3)

[haHA...]

[Wanna get me in trouble, ain't you, reima? Bring it~! :V]

"Unregistered chemical detected." -- That's the only thing the Ranger could hear as soon as the droid's syringe pierced his blood stream. "No simulated known harmful effects."

Struggling to recover himself from both the fall and the gravitational vertigo, the Masked Man limped backwards, failing to keep a steady aim at whatever had just approached him. The tranquilizer, however, appeared to mess up with his sense in some sort of way...

"... T-The heck d-did you... !"

While the Ranger didn't sustain any damage to the fall, the data that CD retrieved from his basic anatomy were rather... Interesting. This one fellow in gas mask had no arms, at least, not biological. While very concealed by his thick trenchcoat and inner Niobium-Titanium armor, his upper limbs were replaced with top-of-the-line engineered, combat prosthesis.



As a confused Ranger was about to blast an easily missed shot towards the droid, his survival instincts kicked in. It was an humanoid war machine, if that thing wanted had any hostile intentions, the Ranger would have been long history.
But, maybe, capturing, could be an option. Still...

Not able to compose his strength, the man consequently went down to his knees. The mask hissed loudly, like how was he breathing under the tranquilizer's effects.

"W-Who the <beep> s-sent you, machine... ?!"

The Droid approached the Ranger and gripped his shoulders and forced him to sit down "I have been sent by no body, I simply was orbiting your moon for some time now, I have forgotten to record the amount of time I had been up there." the droid turned around scanning the surrounding area as well as the scrapped metal and broken spacecraft. "My masters originally had built me to fight in the great war but I could not comply as my transport had been shot down just outside your orbit, and I was caught by your moon." the droid took a second to rip a data core out of the damaged spacecraft "If calculations serve correct and your soil does not tell me otherwise, I have been orbiting around your moon for 3000 of your rotations around your sun. My war is over, and my masters most likely dead" he claimed and plugged himself into the data core afterwards giving a slight pause then throwing the core aside "your species technology has advanced as far as my masters had predicted, your weapon is of no threat unless it was overclocked, even then I would receive minimal damage from such primitive weaponry"

[sorry I'm late, I hope it's okay to join this late into the game :P]
[Careful, I use the IPA to help with pronouncing names and such. If you can't read it, or don't know what it is, look up "International Phonetic Alphabet."]

Migi sat on the edge of the cliff. He had been waiting for someone, but they had not arrived. He had been sitting in that spot, waiting, for about three hours now.

"God damnit, where is she? I thought I asked her to meet me here at 1300h. It's 1500h now. Sheesh!"

The person he was waiting for was his friend, Nyho:we (pronounced /ɲʰɔ:we/). He was thinking of confessing his lover to her on a cliff, which he thought was the most romantic way to do it.

Migi, being saddened by the fact that she never arrived, and thinking his feelings were one-way, decided to leave and go back home.

--at 1800h, Back home, in Migi's bedroom--

"what seems to be troubling you?" said Þŏrne, his talking dagger. No-one could explain the fact that his dagger talked. Migi in particular seems to think it's sorcery, but Þŏrne claims it's "science beyond human comprehension."

"I'm worried that Nyho:we might not return my feelings. I asked her to see me at the cliff, but she never even came!"

"I'm sorry, but I'm a dagger. I'm a master at killing things, not diagnosing people's love lives. I'm sorry about that--"

Suddenly, a loud crash could be heard just outside of Migi's room. It was really loud, so it must have been a big one.

Migi left the house to investigate the crash site.
What he saw was a golden cube, with writings in an unknown language written across it. On one side, there was a hatch. Migi, being the curious boy he is, opens the hatch, to find a bluish, slim looking figure sitting in the seat, reading the glowing screens in front of it.
Eventually, the thing found out that someone had opened it's hatch, and looked back at Migi.

"ngóotrhemm jhneette." said the blue creature. "Bišittemm yojhneette?"

Migi, not knowing what the thing said, replied back in his native language. "goši, nupavœvi sitŭv glotak bitaz." ("Sorry, I don't speak your language." It literally translates as "mercy, not-speak-[active-present-perfect-indicative] me-[nominative-male] language-[genitive-neuter] you-[possessive-neuter]." Yes, I am a conlanger.)

The thing seemed to have a device that automatically deciphers new languages, because the thing replied in Migi's language:

"But I can speak yours."

[leaving it off at a cliffhanger for now, since I need a break from writing this thing]

[..is it.. an ANDALITE?]

[EDIT: Stupid me, andalites don't speak with their mouths as described.]

Slowly regaining his strength, the Ranger took one last deep breath, emphasized by his gas mask, before standing once again on his feet, as he slowly holstered his Handgun away.
"I'd rather not talk about weaponry with a war machine, am I clear...?"

What the Droid could do of harm in his state, anyway? His AI, apparently, showed a simple corruption in his memory banks. Maybe such War were still raging, but at least, he could the Droid knew what to shoot and what not to. Along with these, varied thoughts about CD's origin wandered in the Masked Man's mind.
Turning the back on his new, unusual acquaintance, the Ranger proceeded hastily towards the lower parts of his fighter, right below it's landing bipods, as he began to check for any sort of damage from the rough landing.

"You're corrupted!" -- The man shouted from the spacecraft. "Your data system must have been damaged or something in combat, tin-man."

"My data is not wrong, 3000 revolutions around your earth, from the moons orbit, as well as having never entered combat the way I was meant to" The droid said as it dropped the fighters data core to the ground. It walked over beside the ranger and scanned the craft "It has suffered severe damage from both heat of reentry as well as collision with debris from my crashed ship. You were lucky to escape with your life" the droid then stuck it's hand out and rammed it into the craft removing a gyro "I believe this is still functional, if you were wanting to salvage pieces for your next craft spacer" he announced holding the small gyro out to the ranger.

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