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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 28, 2010 14:37:59 GMT -5
Day 8, open thread
Somehow, Emirate Xaaron has ended up wandering around with Springer. On the one hand, it's not his Springer, but on the other hand, that lowers the chances of them both being assaulted by zombies.
...then again, maybe not. This Springer got assaulted by zombies, too, didn't he?
But speaking of assaults - Emirate Xaaron is starting to see why Kup told him not to go out alone! Rather aggressive goldbuyers keep trying to grab him down and smelt him for his plating! And at least three different gangs have been upset over him wearing the wrong colours! And... the subway and metro and bus and trolley route maps are still frankly mind-breaking.
So finally, he's ducked into one of the casino districts, where despite the bright lights and jazz music, he's finally found some peace and quiet. He is no longer the most Primus-awful gaudy thing on the sidewalk, and for that fact, he is infinitely thankful.
Emirate Xaaron looks up at one neon sign, which proclaims, Temple of Mammon Casino and Bar. He opines, "Wish Nightbeat was here... then again, they probably break more than just fingers for card-counting, here!"
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Post by Springer on Apr 28, 2010 18:00:16 GMT -5
Springer has indeed been assaulted by zombies - something he doesn't care to repeat, much less remember. Running sentients away from Xaaron is troublesome enough! If they were undead, though, at least Springer wouldn't have to hold back.
Springer wonders about this Emirate - he told Xaaron before that he hadn't heard of him back home. A lie, yes. Xaaron did exist back home, but he didn't seem anywhere near as important as this one. And the one encounter Springer had is buried under yet another pile of bad memories and bad blood. Finding a live Kup here was shocking enough.
At least there's some better memories being formed while he's in this universe, despite how much it seems intent on tormenting the Wrecker.
Springer glances up as Xaaron points out a particular casino. "Yeeeah. Good 'bot, but I fear his methods might land us in even more trouble than we're in."
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 28, 2010 23:54:03 GMT -5
"Oh, trouble isn't the trouble," Emirate Xaaron replies brightly, "Getting out of it is."
That's when a gunshot nails him in the shoulder. He doesn't really sway from the impact, suggesting fairly solid footing, and the bullet flattens itself against his shoulder without piercing the armour.
That's weird. Emirate Xaaron's some weedy civvy politician, right? Bullet should have gone through his armour like a hot knife through butter. It'd take, well, military grade armour to stop a bullet.
He also doesn't panic or flail uselessly or even scream in pain - not even a flinch, actually - but he reacts swiftly, grabbing at Springer's wrist. "Oh, bother. Probably another gang. This way!"
Emirate Xaaron attempts to drag Springer in the nearest door - into that casino, in fact! There'll be bouncers there. He's sure that Springer could... handle the matter, but he's not sure Springer's particular way of handling things is what is needed right now.
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Post by Springer on Apr 29, 2010 0:10:36 GMT -5
Springer's eyebrows arch for a moment, chuckling faintly. "You're telling me--"
The Wrecker is cut off by the gunshot, and in a moment, Springer's pulled a pistol, looking for the shooter. Before he can even get his bearings, Xaaron is pulling him into the casino. Springer follows, half-stumbling and putting the gun away.
Springer frowns after he gets his balance back. "...admittedly, wise to hide here. I just hate leaving a fight half-fought - un-fought even moreso." A faint shrug. "I'll live, though. You happen to see who shot at you?"
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 29, 2010 13:55:14 GMT -5
The 'Temple of Mammon Casino and Bar' is, truly, a temple to wealth and greed. The dominating color is bright, shining gold, from the metal floors and walls to the gilded statue in the center, though accents of silver and copper abound. The statue, apparently intending to depict some sort of god of money, is on a podium well above the throng below and displays a creature with the upper half of a humanoid, the bottom half of a snake, and wings of lightning (complete with gaudy low-voltage special effects). On his face is an avaricious smile, and his hands are overflowing with gold coins, eternally on the cusp of tumbling from his fingers. The central area is wide and open, and scattered beneath the snake statue are assorted tables for dice games, roulette wheels, and card games. Off the main lobby are several other rooms, each accessible through wide archways and each focusing on other means of losing lots of money quickly: one for slot machines, some for betting on assorted sporting events (most transmitted in and displayed on large monitors so that players need never leave the luxurious comforts of the 'temple'), a money-changing area (which of course includes an ATM of sorts), and one to serve as the bar.
The place is so glowingly bright, so richly decorated that it is almost as if waves of pure greed radiate from the very walls themselves - one gets the feeling that simply spending time in this establishment would increase one's desire for gold.
There are, indeed, bouncers, but most of them don't pay the newcomers much mind (yet). But there's also a greeter standing behind a podium, a Transformer-sized woman in a golden dress, her hair in shining blonde ringlets, her eyes a sparkling silver.
"Welcome to the Temple of Mammon Casino and Bar!" she greets enthusiastically. "Will you be needing a table near the bar, or are you going straight to the games? If so, a server will be right along with drinks, which are, by the way, complimentary at the slot machines!"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on Apr 29, 2010 19:28:15 GMT -5
"He wanted me dead. I wanted me alive, and given that I am alive, I call that victory, Springer," Emirate Xaaron muses, looking at the snake-god. He still feels ill, honestly. He's felt ill ever since he set foot on this planet. Maybe it's the gravity or the air or the way the atmosphere filters light...
As the the appearance of his shooter, Emirate Xaaron reports back, "Ah, a biped, thick white filaments coating the body, a black textile head covering, a red textile torso covering that did not cover the arms, blue textile leg covering, uncovered hands and feet with black claws, semicircular audio sensors mounted on the head, black forward facing optics, overall appearance somewhat like a turbobear. Ever meet Chainclaw, by any chance?"
Yeah, he just got shot at by a polar bear gangbanger.
He shrugs and asks Springer, "What would you prefer? Bar or games?" He has a bit of spending money now, and waiting a bit to give the polar bear time to get frustrated and go back to wherever he came from would be nice.
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Post by Springer on May 1, 2010 17:42:41 GMT -5
"Fair enough..." Springer answers, then notes the description of Xaaron's ursine assailant. "Never met a Chainclaw, why do you as--"
Then the woman speaks to them, and Springer gets a good look around at the building. His head pulls back slightly in a mildly disgusted cringe. Is such a gaudy display really necessary? Springer also wonders if this is something like what the so-called "golden age" of Cybertron might have looked like. If that's so, give him the wartime.
"...bar," he answers, looking mildly shocked by the whole place.
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Post by SceneMod on May 1, 2010 18:33:32 GMT -5
"Right this way, sirs!" the young lady in the dress that matches Emirate Xaaron's paint job beams as she takes two menus from the stand and then leads the two back towards the bar area. As they walk, she asks, "Table, booth, or will you two be sitting at the bar?"
Behind the group, a few large aliens, rather scruffy looking compared with the surroundings, enter the casino and look around. They spy Emirate Xaaron, and try to follow after him.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 2, 2010 21:12:30 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron just happens to be looking back, and he frowns. A quick survey tells him that a table will put him nearest an exit, and he raises one finger and replies, "Table, please."
He murmurs to Springer, "Say, do your dimension's Wreckers use the motto 'Wreck and rule'?"
It's possible that they were more about 'Be polite and bake energon goodies'.
Possible.
But Emirate Xaaron would have to slap them, then.
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Post by Springer on May 2, 2010 21:55:07 GMT -5
Springer notes Xaaron's frown, and where he's looking. Lovely. Maybe the riff-raff will be less inclined to causing a ruckus in a public place. Doubtful, given the nature of the planet, but Springer is hopeful.
His attention turns to Xaaron at the question, and an eyebrow raises. "Yeah, why do you ask?"
The goodie-baking comes after the wrecking and ruling. Wrecker Bake Sales are how they get the funding for new weapons.
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Post by SceneMod on May 3, 2010 21:28:03 GMT -5
"All right, then, here you go!" declares the entirely too perky hostess. She gestures to a small table in more or less the middle of the bar and then sets menus down in front of two of the seats. "Your server will be right with you!" she says, smiling brightly before she turns and rushes off.
Meanwhile, the aliens that entered behind Emirate Xaaron and Springer continue to casually approach them. One appears to be some sort of large, Transformer sized slug, though it has tentacles that creep from beneath the shell. A second is a long-limbed ferret looking creature, this one, also, close to the same scale as the others. When the creature stands still, it crouches down so that one or both hands touch the ground. In front of these two is what looks to be a kitten, one about the size of a human being.
It appears to be the leader.
"My, my, my," Space Kitty says in an adorably child-like voice, somewhat reminiscent of Shirley Temple's, as it peers up at Emirate Xaaron and Springer with wide eyes. "One would think you might be intentionally avoiding us, and here all we wanted to do was make friends!"
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 6, 2010 13:43:13 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron studies the menu, looking at Springer just over the top of the menu, and he remarks casually, "Wondering if you were also up on 'snatch and grab'."
Springer's reaction should be most enlightening -
- but Ravage's organic cousin with a weird voice has found them, and he's brought some big, ugly friends. Emirate Xaaron sets the menu down for a moment, pushes his chair back, smiles, and inquires, "What can I do for you, then?"
Please don't say 'die'.
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Post by Springer on May 9, 2010 21:43:16 GMT -5
"Eh? What do you mean by tha--" Springer's query about grabbing and snatching is cut off by Space Kitty and its backups. Springer keeps his menu up after opening it, peering over the edge at their visitors. This allows him to have his arms pointed in their general direction, should the use of force become necessary.
"...can't say we noticed you."
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Post by SceneMod on May 13, 2010 19:20:28 GMT -5
"Well, see," says Space Kitty, peering up at Emirate Xaaron and Springer with wide, wide eyes, "on your way here, you went through Atrocitian turf. We saw you, we did! And the thing is, you didn't pay the toll for safe transport. You're here now, so you went through safe, but you didn't pay the toll." Space Kitty shakes his head sadly. "Very very rude."
A humanoid woman with deep red skin and a sharp-looking Navy blue dress suit sitting at the bar glances up towards Emirate Xaaron, Springer, and Space Kitty, a faint frown painting her expression.
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Post by Emirate Xaaron on May 15, 2010 10:22:37 GMT -5
Emirate Xaaron very, very slowly pushes his chair back, no sudden moves. He smiles politely but frostily, and he touches his shoulder, where the bullet crumpled itself without breaching, and he demurs quietly, "I would argue that my passage was anything but safe, and if anything, you owe me."
He laces his hands behind his head. "But I'm a generous fellow. Be on your way, and I won't bother with collecting."
Emirate Xaaron is bluffing with a hand of Uno cards in a game of baccarat.
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