Scene #4131: Training Day

Owner	Pose
Linne	~An hour ago~ Linne has invited a certain Ferham over for tea! It's a rather sudden invitation, but in reality, the acting head of the Tres household has planned this for some time. She just needed some time to get things ready. ~Now~ The sound of machinery would likely awaken Ferham as the last details are put into place. A visor over her face, wrapped in a cocoon-like seat. Factory-like robot arms move as metal and lace are put into place, black and white frills and lace completing the outfit. Voices are spoken into robotic ears, low and slow, almost like whispers, but they fade away. Everything's dark and dingey in the large basement. There's a mechanical whirr as high-heeled pumps slide into place down toned legs, and the world slides into focus. A dark haired maid with glasses peers down a Ferham. "All done. Are you awake?" The smiling face of Linne then slides down, and offers a dainty hand. "Wakey wakey, my cute little student! Up, up. A proper lady shouldn't just sleep the day away!"
Ferham	Ferham had met Linne a number of months ago, it had felt like. She had met her outside of a pub in the confed's R&R area, and had warded off some rather unpleasant droids that had given her a bit of trouble before settling down to speak to her. It turned out that the stand-user had been in some trouble, to which Ferham had pledged she would assist with. Later, she had accepted a call to provide support when Linne's employer's mansion had been attacked. It seemed that Linne had been fairly up against it, in terms of manpower--or one should say maidpower--since she'd lost a few of her subordinates in the assault, it had seemed. While she wasn't one to joke about lives being lost, she /had/ also pledged she'd directly assist Linne with her maid squad, and that included joining it. Her green eyes shot open as she realized she was not where she was when she went offline for an hour or two to defrag, in fact she was somewhere quite different. Reploids didn't need to sleep, exactly, but they did require some downtime to allocate files, and it was a necessary thing for memory reasons--she wasn't the type to risk becoming a psychotic over shattering the whole 'robots don't need sleep' myth. "Linne? what's going on? was there a problem?" a common sort of question when a Reploid was brought back unexpectedly from that sort of state--was there a problem? anything wrong? ect--she seemed a little caught off-guard, though not 'surprised' exactly. One learned to expect things one normally wouldn't. "Uhh... this is new? surprise makeover?" Ferham blinked as she realized the spot she was in, sort of sitting... with a strange new outfit being pulled on.
Linne	Linne gives a long, warm giggle. "Good morning. No, no. This is all according to plan. Come now, what are you doing?" The blue haired woman walks over, and taps the new pumps beneath petticoated legs. "You're not a child. Remember what you agreed to?" That cane of hers then taps against the contraption that's been holding her. The side of it reads 'Mark 1 RoboTraining Device: Maid Edition'. 'Made in Taiwan'. "We are here to teach you how to properly be a member of this household, Miss Ferham, so that when we rescue the Mistress, you can properly assist us. We would not want a bunch of rabble rescuing her, hmm? Get up. What do you think?" Two more maids wheel in a full-length mirror, and the lights pop on. One of the maids, a pink haired one, laughs. "Just looks at those heels and how she wears her dress! She makes a cute little green maid! I just want to eat her up!" The other maid reaches in, and pinches Ferham's cheeks. "Can I train her too? Pleeeeease?" Linne tuts! "Later, Asami. She needs to know the basics before...enhanced training." The maid Asami sighs.
Ferham	Ferham blinked as she moved to get up--and felt that she'd apparently been de-armored and given quite a different set of uniform for this... initiation, one might call it. As she tried to sit up, she was reminded that her footwear had been changed too--the soles of her white stockinged feet making contacts with the custom made pumps. There was a high-pitched, almost inaudible whine as hidden electronics switched on. "Yes, I had almost forgotten," Ferham pushed herself with the sort of 'maid cocoon' popping off as she stood, back to her impressive almost amazon-like height. This was clearly the first time she'd been exposed to Linne K. Park's brand of training, brushing the front of her dress off, she looked to Linne. "My apologies, when do we get started?" she stood more rigidly now, back straighter, as if ready to receive the head girl's command.
Linne	Slowly, Linne nods. "Excellent! Right this way, Miss Ferham!" Linne leads Ferham through a door, shoving it open. There's a small stairwell leading up, and ahead of Ferham? An open door. It leads out towards what looks like a simple rectangular arena. Lights flick on, and there's a huge large-screen tv that flicks on to show Linne's gentle smile. Several doors in the arena open, and more maids appear! They place balancing bars, low to the ground, almost the full length of the baseball-field length training area. One more maid brings out a silver platter. At the other end? A table, on which a maid sits down and ties a bib. "Your first lesson! A proper maid must walk demurely, and with grace, no matter the conditions! Quickly, but unhurried. Take that platter, and serve it to my little companion there. Walk along the bar. If you fall off, you will be punished! GO!" It's just a simple walking bar! What could be so hard about that!?
Ferham	The outfit seemed to be something new to get used to--despite what one might think, Ferham didn't quite use this as a disguise very often, or at all, even. Her green eyes went wide when she realized she was in such a large training field, her eyes moving to the platter as it's presented and placed her hand under it, as if she had been instructed silently. "I'll do my best," she intoned quietly, beginning to walk--of course, while her walk tended to be quite feminine and suited to the more hip swinging gait of a lady, the demure aspect she hadn't exactly perfected. In fact, it might even elicit a bit of laughter from the more experienced maids present as Ferham began to walk towards them in her usual agile but broad manner--hesitating with a bit of a shudder, before trying to correct it, instead moving with more practiced, dainty steps, those heels clicking as she remembered to keep her legs closer together. It was up to the girls whether or not she'd improved in her task, of course. This was of course before she realized she had to walk that balance bar with the tray--to which unfortunately stopped her in her tracks. "Uhm... oh," she winced and her brows raised as she looked over, before having to double back around to the start of the balance beam. She placed a high heeled foot against it, her ankle wavering, before she tried to put more weight on it and bring her other foot up... would she make it? For any number of reasons, perhaps it was traction on the soles of the heels, or perhaps Ferham's dexterity--she seems to be able to make it across that balance bar--heels clicking as she carries the tray. She is slow at first, however--but soon she's presenting the girl sitting down with a light bow.
Linne	Slowly, the looming face of Linne scowls. "Oooh, Mistress is mad!" "Is she really a Lady? Look, look, she almost stumbled!" "She did better than you at first, Anne!" "She walks like a horse! Heeeey, new girl, do you need a bit and a saddle? We've got plenty of room at the stables!" The insults come one after another! Finally, Linne slams down her cane. Everything goes silent. "...Miss Ferham." She begins. "That was deplorable! I see that I need to use extreme measures. Your presentation is fine. But your walk...you are not a warrior in this house! A maid! One foot after the other! Gracefully! Weight shifting without pause. A maid must have perfect confidence at all times. Anne!" The blonde maid grins, and walks to the other end of the bar. It suddenly rises three feet, and steps raise up for Ferham to get back up! This time? A platter of tea, steaming hot is presented to Ferham! One of the maids, similarly, just leaps up onto the bar. She walks, hips swaying, feet one in front of the other, heels clicking with precision. She doesn't waver, and makes it there in twenty seconds. Off, presented, and a bow. "Try again, Ferham. This time with...encouragement. If you don't beat her time, then you will be punished severely!" More maids arrive. Linne smiles. "Go!" At first, it's the same as the last. But then the maids all pull out guns, and start unloading ammo at Ferham's heels! If they hit? Automatic shock rounds!
Ferham	There was a melancholy frown on the femmebot's face as the other girls derided her, finally being addressed by the head of the team herself, Linne. Normally, she wouldn't feel guilt about something like this, but she /had/ given Linne her word that she'd join, and she was likely getting some extra help and instruction from those heels. "I... understand, Miss Park, I'll do better this time," her gait was now much more feminine--one foot in front of the other with careful and light precision--rising to the challenge as she accepted that tea set and balanced it carefully in her hand. The balance bar rose ominously--her work cut out for her seemingly, however she was to receive a surprise when the other girls began... shooting at her feet? Ruh roh. "Aiee! Eek! Ahh--ooh!" Ferham's voice rang throughout the large training hall, the teaset rattling as she quickly resumed her more practiced gait--her hair trying to stand up beneath the barette that had been placed over it. Now she had to walk the plank of the balance bar, and it was quite a bit taller this time. This time Ferham did not make it. "Woooahh!" she managed to keep the teaset level, though rattling, though her heeled feet slipped and she wound up going down, with the raised balance bar right between her legs. "Ow..." oh my, the look on her face, now turning quite red, as she had taken the balance bar against her body in a quite inopportune spot--her back arched. She seemed to be in quite a bit of pain~ but she managed not to drop the platter, somehow.
Linne	Linne's eyes widen, she'a /almost/ smiling! But then the poor Ferrybot falls! Ow! Poor thing~! "She's awful! Even I didn't do that bad!" "I'll bet that hurt! Hey, hey! She's useless, Miss Park! Let's just get rid of her! Turn her into a mindless servant bot!" Linne chuckles. "Not just yet. Are you okay, Miss Ferham? Fall like that again, and..." She's grinning, long and almost maddened. Around the bar? Fire erupts, spewing into the air, on both sides! The poor, arched Ferrybot has fire racing along the bar now towards her!" "I would start moving, Miss Ferham! Here at the mansion, we take failure very seriously~!" There's the sound of a cracking whip in the air!
Ferham	"Uhhnn... Nhhhnn..." it /did/ look like it hurt, in fact the pain seemed to cause her to stiffen as if paralyze, before her shoulders sunk just a bit, though the noises she made might have been amusing to the girls. Despite the pain, Ferham is able to recognize and react as the fire zooms toward her--her knees coming up as she more or less kicks off the floor--able to propel herself upwards and get the soles of her shoes back ontop of the bar. The look on her face is grim--eyes narrowed in determination and with her teeth set in a kind of grimace. Within seconds she's back ontop of the bar and walking again, proceeding /toward/ the fire even as it begins to light up the the balance bar beneath her--only a few drops of tea splashing from the spout of the pot with the cups rattling. Heel, toe, heel, toe. Ferham was on a mission it seemed this time, her poise and gait was much more on track, nearing the end of that balance bar--and with a nimble but delicate hop down--balancing the impact one foot at a time, with a series of clicks, she's down. She then approached the girls on the other end, finally, with the tea set--giving a polite bow. "I apologize for making you wait, mistress," she softly declared.
Linne	The other maid at the end rises, hrrrrrmn's, and slooowly walks around Ferham. She tilts, leans down, and winks. Then she tastes the tea, tries the food, and gives a little giggle. She looks up to the screen and a smiling Linne peers down. "Oh, good, you do have some talent after all! Good, good! You really had me worried, Miss Ferham! Alright. You deserve my training." The fire sputters out, many of the maids bow and leave the room. The grand tv folds away into the wall, and slowly out comes Linne from another door. The large straight bar descends into the floor, and the woman smiles. She holds out a hand. "You have potential. Come, show your grace, Ferham. Let's dance!" The music begins, a slow waltz, and the maid is leading Ferham into long, sweeping steps!
Ferham	Ferham stands at attention as the girls she serves take the tea and food, setting it down for them silently and stands by, waiting for them to finish. She seems to remain quiet with her arms folded over her front, eyes focused on nothing at all until there is movement, almost statue-like. She shook herself a little bit as voice rang out into the room, and the next thing she realized Linne was right there. She blinked hard, gathering herself together. "I did it, yes? You want to train me after all?" she replied to Linne as she stepped closer and held out a hand, taking her's and shaking it gently. Once she's pulled into the dance steps--she seems to pull back from the zoning out she'd been doing. Her heeled feet stumble only momentarily as she begins to dance along with the stand-user, her fingers entwining and hands clasping against her's. "I... think I could get used to this," she smiled a little, peering down at the smaller but in authority maid. It likely reminds her of when she had first met her.
Yari Takane	Stumbling or not, Linne is all warm smiles. "You did well. There are two things you must always remember. The first, is that perserverence is important for a maid. You will fail, but you must keep going no matter what. Second, you must be brave and graceful no matter what. Your life is not your own, but to serve. If your superior asks you to dance, you dance." There's a robotic beep-beep as Linne sweeps Ferham into a spin, followed by a slow, almost back-breaking dip to the ground, practically touching noses with the robot-woman. That's when turrets appear from the ceilings, and begin firing. Bullets whistle past the pair as the music intensifies, urging them faster and faster. A few bullets graze Linne's dress, and even her cheek, but she pays them no heed. Step, pause, step step turn, dip! The slightest deviation will get one shot in this torrent of lead.
Ferham	One might think that, due to Ferham's various excursions in heels that were likely more ridiculous than these pumps, she should be dancing better than this--but she seems to get a hold of her balance as she dances along with Linne. It seemed like just a few months ago she had encountered this girl in the confed's R&R area and had listened to their problem. She blinks as her long hair hangs down to touch the ground as she's pulled and swung into that dip, her green eyes meeting Linne's and can't help but smile as she's pulled up. When the guns open up and begin firing--Ferham would follow along with Linne who was 'leading' the dance, keeping her speed up to help avoid the bullets. The femmebot would make sure she was in the path of any errant bullets just in case Linne is in the line of fire--she does this almost out of instinct, it's not in any of her maid squad instruction. Though she was tempted to wipe away the small trickle of blood fromt he graze-hit on Linne's cheek, she knows she can't break the routine at all without risking harm to them both.
Linne	It's a long dance, Linne's frame deceptively having a good amount of stamina. Almost all of the scrapes she might have gotten are either turned away, or plinked off of Ferham's armor and body. Finally, with one last flourish, a cannon rolls out. BLAM! Linne spins Ferham, dips her, and utterly ignores the cannonball that scrapes across her back. There's a splatter of blood. Her body winces, but she still pulls up Ferham. "There. You are a lovely dancer when you try, Miss Ferham." She offers a slow bow of thanks. By the time she turns around, her back has a spattering of metal. She leads Ferham to another seat that has tea and finger foods. One is even a cup of e-tank fluid! "Sit. Tell me about yourself, Miss Ferham. I would know of my student."
Ferham	The physical endurance test proves to also be one of balance and dexterity, the two are pushed--though it is needless to say that Ferham is more concerned with her dance partner, at this rate. As Linne faces her, Ferham seems to feel remorseful for the wounds that Linne has accrued, leaning forward as she brushes the blood that had trickled down from her face and nearly dried with the tip of her tongue. The red lipstick causes the blood on her lips and tongue to be nearly invisible as she presses their lips together briefly, before straightening up and pulling back. "Mmph, excuse me, I didn't realize this would involve injury to you," she sat down as she was told, crossing her legs. "I may have explained where I came from before, Madam Park--I was created on Gigantis Island, also called Giga City, experimental force metal new-type Reploid," she would accept tea and especially that E-can fluid. "Thank you--as for the rest, I was involved in a revolt, and afterwards decided to join the confederacy," she doesn't mention X. At least not now. She is not quite sure how she feels about the one that's running around. Yet.
Linne	The maid actually pauses at such a tender gesture. For a moment, one can see the smallest of blushes on her face, before she coughs, and continues on her way. She sits primly, crossing her legs, and 'staring' right at Ferham. Is she smiling slightly more than usual, or is that just a trick of the light? "All part of the lesson. Injury means nothing in service to your Mistress or Master." Siiip. One pinky up, of course. "Interesting. Force metal? I'm unfamiliar with that particular compound." Interest sparks in her eyes, before she moves onto the more personal matter. "A...revolt. Unpleasant business. I will not pry into your reasons." A hand wave. "How has life treated you since joining the Confederacy? You seem a very principled woman. And less...enthusiastic than many of our fellows." At least when it comes to murder.
Ferham	"I could explain it to you over some spare hour sometime," she relaxed back in the chair, holding her cup of E-can fluid as she mixed a bit in with her tea, drinking that daintily. "It was unpleasant, but hindsight is 20/20, as they say," she shrugs. "I'm not a maverick, I don't have any desire to needlessly injure or kill humans, or other sentient beings, it's just how I am, maybe it's part of my programming to want to avoid loss of life, I like to think it's part of my personality," she stares into space for a few moments, thinking about it perhaps before she turns her attention back to Linne. "I have to thank you for the test so far, I hope I'm able to be of use to your outfit," well, figuratively as well as literally, in this case--she does cut a striking figure in that maid uniform, after all. As she sits cross-legged, Linne might notice her letting that red 6-inch stiletto high heel dangling idly off the tip of Ferham's black-stockinged foot, as if playfully, having popped the heel of her foot out of it.
Linne	Linne is silent for some time. 'It's just how I am'. The mere thought of such drives a lance of pain through her heart. Linne might by a psychopath by many descriptions, but this seems to bother the woman on a fundamental level. Her teeth grit, her eyes seem to bulge, and the uncontrollable urge to /destroy/ runs through her. Her hands both slam down onto the table, her face red. Wood turns to metal, then seems to rust away from her fury. Black, metallic claws that reach from her body tears the rust to shred. "Th...THAT IS UNFORGIVABLE!" Howls the woman. Suddenly she has a metal broom, and is beating the last shreds of rust into near nothingness. A few minutes later, she drops it, and collapses into an exhausted heap. A hand runs over her face. "....My apologies. You did not need to see that, Miss Ferham. Sometimes I...lose control of myself from stress on the job." Just as quickly, she's back to smiling. A feather brush suddenly tickles that exposed arch of a foot as she lets it dangle! "You may keep it. My subordinates tell me it suits you well. For now, we see how you /sound/ in it!" Her smile is almost impish as she goes on a tickle-assault!
Ferham	The outburst startles Ferham. A robot--which is surprising in itself that Linne was capable of giving her such a look of startled alarm--her green eyes going wide as Linne more or less dematerializes that table into rust and then goes about cleaning it up--with such blinding speed and efficiency that it seemed hard to believe there was a table there to begin with, somehow. She remains very still and quiet until Linne seems to calm down, returning to her formerly pleasant self. "I... apologize as well if I said something... unbefitting of the uniform, or the like, Mistres Park," she did seem to remember to use Miss Park's proper title, anyway. She held the saucer with tea and e-can energy mixed in, the crockery clicking ever so slightly as she reached down and lifted the cup to her lips, in mid-sip when Linne took notice of her vulnerability there. "Mnn! Mmmm!" Ferham had to struggle to both keep from spilling the teacup and saucer, as well as the dangling stiletto heel from dropping from her foot as she squirmed in response to the tickling assault. "Mmphh! B-buh--what is.. ahh~ wh-what are you doing, M-Miss Park!? Hee... aahahhaha... s-stop please--" her face began to turn red as she quickly had to swallow the tea she had been in midsip of and seemed to be cackling quite involuntarily.
Linne	A simple shake of the head. "No. No, it's not you. Service...should be voluntary." But then she's down on her knees, grinning, as she waves that duster! Soft brushes stroke along soles and arches and toes, eyes full of pure mischief as Ferham gives in to the assault! "Poor, poor Miss Ferham, unable to withstand a simple attack! Give in! Say that you are my cute little robot maid to train! This is your fate, Ferham!" Tickle tickle tickle down every little toe, until poor Ferham is left exhausted. She stands, leans in, and plants a gentle kiss to the forehead. "For now, rest. You will make an excellent servant." Her fellow maids drag off Ferham to a bed!