@texButtercup stood motionless, observing the human as they gave their little speech. It had been a long time since Buttercup had stood in rank and file, among scared and desperate humans. When Joshua saluted the group, Buttercup was one of the few that returned the gesture. It was surprising, really. Even after all these years it was still a reflex, automatically saluting your superiors. Buttercup adjusted his stance slightly, suddenly conscious of the way he'd been standing. He had no muscles to tense, but his stance had been that of a fighter. Balanced and ready, dividing his significant weight evenly while maintaining the capability to move quickly. It was a fighter's stance, and it was a pose he had thought he had long abandoned. But although his mind might have outgrown his military training, his body had not. Any fear he had had over losing his skills over time were abolished. The art of war had been woven into his very essence, and no matter how far he might distance himself from it, it would never be far from his reach.
Finished with this little bout of introspection, Buttercup noticed the others had left. The life of a human being was riddled with needs and wants, the constant maintenance of their bodies and their short attention span requiring them to move from place to place, stopping only when they had something to do. Buttercup saw no reason to move, as he required neither food nor water. Instead he merely stood, observing the world around him in complete silence as he contemplated the mission he was about to go on. When one has no need for sleep and an unlimited lifespan, one finds far more time for simple contemplation. Unfortunately, the local workers didn't see it that way, and after some time had passed Buttercup was rather sternly dismissed from the location.
Ten minutes later, Buttercup could be found at a local tailor. He had been informed that he needed to acquire a uniform, and unfortunately they didn't have one in his particular size. Over the years Buttercup had acquired some money, although he had never sought it out. Coins given by Divers in exchange for directions, information, or assistance, built up over the years. It wasn't much, but it was enough to pay for a custom-made uniform, if not a very fancy one.
"Well, I certainly haven't made anything on this... scale, before. But yeah, I could certainly make this." The tailor stepped back from the golem, putting away the knotted string as he gave his customer a final look over. The tailor in question was an old man, although Buttercup was far from proficient at judging ages. His hair was white and his face was wrinkled, but the spring in his step spoke of a healthy body hidden beneath the veil of age. There was a glimmer in his eye that spoke of a passion pursued, and it was that very same glimmer that had lead Buttercup to this particular venue. Those most skilled at an art are always those who pursue it with all their might. With tailoring as well as war. "Of course, it'll take me a week to put together. Five days, if we hurry."
"That is not acceptable. I require a uniform by evening." Buttercup's deep, metallic voice was incapable of emoting concern. However, he made certain to speak softly and slowly, that the man might not mistake his displeasure for anger.
"Well, unless you got some kinda fancy time magic, that's the time it's going to take." The tailor shrugged, and it was clear the issue was one of possibility rather than willingness.
Buttercup took a moment to think things over. A moment too long, perhaps, judging by the way the tailor gently rapped his breastplate. But he came to a conclusion, in time. "A full uniform is not necessary. I will merely require a cloak. The only matter of importance is that it carries the sigil that I showed you."
The tailor raises an eyebrow. "Well, that I could certainly fix up right quick, and it'll cost you a pretty penny less." He'd hardly finished before Buttercup placed the previously agreed upon sum on the tailor's writing table. The money was not an issue, whatever the CMAS were paying was more than Buttercup would need anyway. The tailor took a moment, then simply shrugged and accepted the coin. "Pick it up in bout three hours time, and I'll have it ready for you." With these words and a shooing gesture, the tailor set to work.
Having learned from his previous experience, Buttercup left the shop before sinking into contemplation once more. Of course, this didn't stop the tailor from shooing him away from his front porch after some twenty minutes, realizing that the golem wasn't exactly attracting new customers. Regardless, once the evening hour struck Buttercup would arrive at the southern gate in his new cloak. A simple thing, but it wore the CMAS insignia on the back, and the lapel of one of the uniforms had been attached to the neckpiece of the cloak. While it certainly didn't fit in with the uniformed cadets, it at the very least identified him as a member of the expedition. And with that out of the way, Buttercup was ready to embark on this little adventure.
