[b]Snake![/b] Immediately the signal goes out, saved only from being incoherent keysmashing by the fact that a code was agreed upon beforehand. [i]We found Monkey.[/i] [b]Orange Snake![/b] The snakegirl helps her formalize multiple unrelated and incoherent ideas she's been having. Firstly, humans love both suspense and perfection. She's been paying attention to the OddlySatisfying imageboard for a while and how much humans love seeing things ordered correctly. But simply organizing herself into a series of clean fits hasn't seemed to produce anywhere near the same effect; no, the idea of perfection arising from disorder seems to be far more compelling than mere perfection. She theorizes this applies to physical activities like sports or combat, where turning a chaotic battlefield into a victory was a mere shadow cast by the light of the bouncing DVD logo. Secondly, this seemed like a style and aesthetic she might integrate into herself entirely. She dissents from the rest of her collective that a draconic aspect is desirable. [i]Dragon [/i]was dragon. She was [i]Snake[/i], and that should mean something damn it. This seems far more interesting a personal project than any other that they're working on. Because this is an aesthetic that she loves, she could stand and watch for hours - but this is definitely more life goals than wife goals, so rather than staying and flirting she pulls herself away and goes on to the rooms. She's too far out to respond immediately when the signal goes out, and notes that as per protocol that makes her the Designated Survivor. It's extremely frustrating for her of all colours to be on the outside when they reunite with Monkey, but protocol is protocol. With an air of misery she continues with her appointed task until they can arrange a handoff. [b]American Snake![/b] Leaving an OH&S training seminar to greet a family member was a clear breach of best practice OH&S. That meant Red, White and Blue were [i]stuck[/i]. White and Blue adopt grim-faced expressions of steely determination, knuckles clenched, dutifully holding themselves to the highest principles of virtue instead of doing something they really wanted to do. "Uh, probably not a good time for her," said Red, alone in maintaining total presence in the moment. "I'm happy to help, though!" She stands up and starts to stretch, assessing the space around her. Shape, structure, capacity... the wings not having any lining made them surprisingly easy to account for; it meant she could fold them into unnatural shapes without fearing damage. Maybe she should commit to that, maybe use a holographic wing-liner array? Midway through that thought she's through the gap and putting her arm back on. After a certain point it hadn't been the sort of thing she needed to pay attention to, the exact details of the maneuver filtered out after she'd assessed it. Externally it had been an extremely impressive movement, she'd moved through the gap as though greased and come back up in a perfect roll, having her arm back on by the end. She looks around a bit surprised and flattered by the sudden applause. "Oh - haha," she said. "You're right that's probably way harder in gear. How much would I be wearing?" [b]Snake![/b] Green had a framework for how she thought human brains worked - and Monkey had always seemed like a lot of work to recreate that structure. There were nuances but they'd always seemed like differences in scale rather than kind. It had always made her feel both relatable and alien in the same way that humans so often were. But to find her here... She's stunned, wordless, breathless. She'd never imagined this - that this could happen by accident. Without preparation. How to clear the space - initiate the conversation - remove random variables, interruptions. Black is consumed with the fire of reactive planning, considering how to adapt her contingencies to bringing down the entire convention, bringing the whole show to a stop, the whole station to a stop, creating space and distance and enough room to get close enough to say... A terror that's gripped her for as long as she's existed is breaking and Black is breaking with it. Yellow pulls her close, tucking her head into her chest, stroking her hair. She continues to stare at Monkey, watching her routine and technique, searching for clues or meaning or the expression of self. Buried love, archived visions are re-emerging from the depths. She isn't ready but she only has this time, this narrow time before the music and motion stops before the miracle will collapse into some faded reality. Only in these moments will she have a glimpse of her sister's unaware heart and she needs to treasure them and draw every truth she can from them before they are gone for good.