Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Mar 21, 2010 23:27:22 GMT -5
OOC: Takes place on Day Eight. Open thread.
Blurr checks and rechecks – and once more for good measure, he rechecks – the directions Fetch gave him. He has the right place, he's sure of it. Where else would he go to pick up a package but a busy port? Everything and everyone seems to be moving all at once and even at a fairly respectable pace for people (and slime-things and bug-things and furry things with extra limbs) who aren't as fast as Blurr. It's hectic in a way. Hurried but not harried. Almost fast enough for him. Almost. But almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and global thermonuclear war, so Blurr still ends up standing there crossing his arms, fidgeting, tapping one foot and then the other. He knows he's where he should be; he followed the directions to the letter.
"Well if it's the right port," he demands of the air and the laser wire-topped fence, "there should be a gate but I don't see a gate on this block, which is ridiculous since this is where the boss sent me. Not the boss mind you because this is just a temporary assignment." But then Emirate Xaaron sent him to Fetch in the first place, so that still makes Xaaron the boss, right?
Not that the fence has an answer for him. Haywire would, but Haywire occupies a small, very muzzy spot at the back of Blurr's mind at the moment and not the usual place across the back of his waist. Blurr feels a little naked without his partner there, really.
"Right! Seems I'll have to just find a gate then!" And he's off, stray papers and other loose refuse scattering in the wind of his wake. It only takes a moment or three to reach a gate. Getting through the gate goes much less smoothly thanks to the guards blocking it and the need to play nice with the natives. The last time Blurr was sent on a diplomatic errand, his arm malfunctioned and he scared an entire city full of tiny aliens, and that really wasn't fun for anyone involved. Least of all Blurr himself.
He certainly hopes his arm doesn't have another spasm today.
"No access," repeats the bigger of the guards standing watch – squat and burly, built like a ceratanium brick wall with one chipped, tusk-like tooth jutting up from his lower jaw – scowling ominously at Blurr from behind his mirrored sunglasses, "without proper clearance."
"Clearance! Of course," and Blurr puts on his winningest grin as he flashes the pass Fetch handed to him earlier. "I'm just here to fetch a small parcel. Speed is of the essence." The guard squints at it, then grunts something unintelligible at his co-worker and waves one huge paw of a hand. The other guard nods but keeps his eye warily on Blurr even as he taps a button in the booth with one long, skinny finger – he only has two of them, poor fellow! – and the gate lifts. Blurr is even polite enough to stroll as casually as he can past the gate, but that only lasts long enough for propriety's sake before he bolts. One of the guards curses; Blurr doesn't look back to see which one or find out what they said. He's watching signage instead. "Dock nineteen, dock eighteen, dock seventeen dock sixteen dock fifteen dock fourteen thirteen twelve eleven– ten!" He comes to a sudden stop that by all logic should snap his head off his neck, then gives the area a once-over.
Well, he's here.
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 23, 2010 23:39:34 GMT -5
Blurr's here, yes, and his entire super-speed run through the port has been watched. Well, best it could be. Now it's being played back in slow motion. Slower than slow motion. Something that makes Blurr something other than a blur on the screen.
The warehouse manager is grinning like the cat that swallowed the canary.
Maybe this one won't blow up, and he can get this mess off his dock and out of his hands.
Blurr probably winds up waiting longer than he'd like, but in reality it's probably not more than about ten minutes. A door rumbles open just behind the speedster, a rather disheveled looking individual leaning against the doorjamb. He's dressed in a wrinkled button-down shirt that's half-untucked, and suspenders that hold his slacks on his thin frame. His scaley skin is mottled with stains and scars, his face pockmarked and his head balding. He reaches up and slips off his glasses, cleaning them on a (dirty) corner of his shirt, and then puts them back on the end of his nose.
"You be te latest un with m're guts din sense, eh? Tink you can zip zip away fast fast, not go boom? Bah. We clean you up like others." The man waves Blurr inside. "In, in, we go up. Talk te the ma'ger, sign te papers. You gots te wifey, kids? You boom, we takes te care of dem. No worry."
He looks thoughtful, "No go boom, you get money. Much money. Much, much money. But they all go boom."
The man starts into the warehouse, leading Blurr (more plodding along while Blurr darts around him, most likely) toward a staircase and a room at the top of said stair. He mutters all the while about going "boom."
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Mar 29, 2010 10:01:46 GMT -5
Blurr does indeed follow the odd, bespectacled fellow, fidgeting and ducking and weaving all the while.
And talking.
"I don't think I'm fast, I know I'm fast and it's a fact, no doubt about it! You can ask anyone – well, anyone from my ship that is since I can't say I know anyone here who isn't from my ship, which doesn't include a wife or kids by the by and that would be odd, really, me with a wife and kids. Those are pretty human or Nebulan things to have if you ask me and I'm not a human or a Nebulan so it would be terribly silly for me to run off and get married." He pauses for a brief moment at the foot of the stairs and rubs his chin thoughtfully before continuing – both up the staircase and with the conversation. "…Come to think of it, I can't have children, so all this is really just speculation and conjecture on my part and while I've been going on and on and on I forgot to introduce myself. How rude of me! The name's Blurr!"
He pauses again at the top of the stairs – it's also very rude to just burst into a room owned by someone else on an alien planet or any other planet for that matter – and looks back at his escort with a charming grin but a curious quirk to his brow.
"Just what do you mean by 'boom', anyway?" he asks. "Obviously you're referring to explosions but that never had much to do with courier work unless I was going through a war zone and I was always going through a war zone, come to think, so really it makes perfect sense! But I didn't see anything that looked like a war zone here and I know what war zones look like, and now everything's back to not making much sense again."
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Post by SceneMod on Mar 30, 2010 20:49:21 GMT -5
The worker actually stops in his stride and stares at Blurr for a few seconds. Well, more stares at the after images of Blurr as the Autobot zips around.
"You, you are just te one right? Not many-in-one like the super-suit bump into tings man? Only need one. Just get paid for one."
He finishes ambling up the stairs, knocks on the door, and then opens it without waiting for an answer. He waves Blurr in.
(Though Blurr may already be inside by the time the gesture is finished!)
"Boss man e'splain. Tell you 'bout te boom. Luck."
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 1, 2010 12:46:24 GMT -5
"No, no, just me and only me, there's only one of me and no more than that," Blurr reassures. The Autobots would probably have a fit if he multiplied! Or died.
He won't think on that any further. He pays attention instead and restrains himself long enough to be waved in – manners are important! – but the moment his escort gestures, he's standing in front of the slightly shabby-looking desk. Its occupant isn't there, over by the window instead.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 3, 2010 20:48:59 GMT -5
The warehouse manager is an unassuming, yet assertive-seeming man with horn-rimmed glasses and light brownish blonde hair who smiles a shade too easily. Unlike the fellow who is even now closing the door to the office, this man appears to be merely a Pz-Zazz-sized human. He is dressed in a serviceable- if plain- suit.
When he turns to face Blurr, the man does not make the normal mistake of trying to make eye contact with the speedster. Instead, he fixes his gaze on a point on the wall just behind and to the left of Blurr's left shoulder.
It's almost as if he's used to dealing with people with enhanced abilities, especially speed.
"Hello, Blurr, let me say how very glad I am that you've agreed to take on this little delivery for me," the man steps forward and offers his hand, "My name is Noah. Welcome to Primatech's shipping hub."
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 4, 2010 22:44:47 GMT -5
Blurr doesn't offer even the slightest hesitation before giving that extended hand a shake. He does mind his grip, though, and though there's no visible pause, he takes just long enough to make sure there isn't anything like a stun zapper hidden in Noah's palm. That smile says friendly, but it doesn't really reach his eyes. Blurr won't let that faze him.
"Pleased to meet you," he says with an amiable grin of his own, "and glad to help. Delighted to help and I'm sure I can help because if it's speed you need then I can do it and nobody can do it faster than I can do it." Simple package delivery! How long has it been since Blurr just had to haul a package that didn't involve sensitive intel or battle plans or supply schedules and drop points? …He can't really remember, either. "This is some port, really lively! Is it always this busy or is this just a busy day? Or is it a slow day?" He's fascinated for a very brief moment at the idea that the hustle he saw could possibly be a lazy day around here. He doubts that's really the case; he moves on. "So what's the package and why did your associate–" Blurr points to the closed door with one thumb, indicating the fellow who met him downstairs. "–Mention explosions? Fetch never mentioned explosions and that certainly is something I'd tell someone in this situation." Yet for all the talk, Blurr doesn't sound at all worried.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 5, 2010 22:50:31 GMT -5
"Oh, we're usually busier than this," Noah says with soft laugh. He gestures for Blurr to follow him as he walks back to the window that overlooks the shipping yard. "This is the slow season."
"As for Remy, well, he's had one too many knocks to the head, so he tends to ramble. But he's reliable and loyal in a city where those traits are defined by the amount of money one can offer for them."
He casts his eyes in Blurr's general direction. "We specialize in shipping the things that the other carriers won't touch, no questions asked. We've never failed a delivery, and I don't intend to fail this one. The problem is that the minute the container is moved, the clock starts ticking. It can't take much agitation, the way I understand it."
"We've lost five couriers trying to move the cargo to its destination across town, five containers, and that's the maximum allowed for damages according to the terms. We lose another, and we lose the contract."
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 6, 2010 17:01:50 GMT -5
As Noah explains the issues they've had in shipping so far, Blurr listens avidly. Knowing five others have died trying to move the package saddens him, but it still doesn't faze him. Knowing that this is the last chance, no second tries, doesn't faze him. If anything, it psyches him up more – so much, in fact, he feels a groggy tickle at the back of his mind as it starts bleeding over to Haywire.
"So you need it moved fast and moved gently, right?" he asks, eyes bright, grin pulling at the corners of his mouth as he leans over the desk, both hands splayed across the top. "That's what I understand from what you've told me, or am I wrong, have I got it all backwards or not?"
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 6, 2010 22:24:53 GMT -5
"That's exactly right," Noah says, looking extraordinarily pleased, probably just at Blurr's confidence and eagerness, "It is just that simple, even if it's actually terribly more complicated, as you'll see once we get to the warehouse housing the cargo."
"But first, I do need you to sign the various paperwork," he points at a stack of papers on the desk, "I apologize for the dryness and the volume ahead of time, but I'm sure if you read as fast as you run and talk it won't take you much time."
The paperwork is standard boilerplate work contracts, detailing pay(considerable), benefits (minimal), death benefits (ridiculously huge- if there's an spouse or kids). There's also a confidentiality agreement, and, in rather small print on the back of one of the last pages, a few notes about proprietary information and what Primatech has rights to in regards to its employees. This is in very confusing doubletalk and legalese, and basically amounts to this: If Blurr goes boom, his remains become Primatech property. If he survives he...becomes the property an employee of Primatech corporation for a set period of time.
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 7, 2010 1:43:47 GMT -5
Just that simple, but more complicated. Makes perfect sense.
And Blurr enjoys leisurely strolls on the beach. He looks over the contract paperwork very closely, making sure he reads everything twice. It all seems rather straightforward, really – very dry, very plain, covering all the necessary points. Being a robot who does everything at unnatural speeds means Blurr gets through his twice-over in a small handful of seconds, every page, front and back. It also means the fine print doesn't escape his reading.
The roadblock is that the baffling phrasing slows him a little. Blurr isn't particularly dim, but he isn't a lawyer, either. There's something here about covering the disposal of his remains (wouldn't the other Autobots handle that in the unfortunate event that he does die?) but the name of the shipping company keeps coming up again and again. Ancillary rights this and licence that. And what's this about an extended contract period? Blurr has places to be that aren't on Pz-Zazz, now, and he can't get stuck here while the rest of the Autobots head off without him! His expression darkens, grin fading and brows drawing low in consternation. The entire process unfolds in about fifteen seconds, which might as well be half an hour.
"I'm not too sure about this part," he says, setting down the contract and tapping that curious page with one finger. He's lying; he's pretty sure of what he's read, but clarification can't hurt. If he can get it. "You wouldn't mind going over it with me, would you? I certainly wouldn't mind and I'd hate to cause any problems just because I might have misunderstood something here when you've already had enough problems of your own." That is very honest. If he sets off further issues, it could be trouble for the rest of the Autobots. The last thing they all need is more trouble.
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 7, 2010 2:16:01 GMT -5
Noah watches Blurr very carefully for that so-long fifteen seconds, and as the Targetmaster's own smile fade, Noah's widens by the barest fraction.
"I wouldn't mind at all," he says, finally taking a seat behind his desk, "However, it isn't really necessary." He opens a desk drawer and pulls out a different stack of papers, this one much smaller than the one Blurr has already perused.
"You would be amazed at how many people sign documents like this without reading them. Or reading them, and then pretending to understand them when they don't." He tries to hand the papers to Blurr, and will just drop them on the desk if the speedster doesn't take them. "I've no use for fools, even as temporary hires, and the company tolerates them even less. So all new hires get tested, so to speak. After all, if someone can't be bothered to look after their own well being, how much care will they take with our packages?"
The explanation is smooth, but not too smooth, and Noah even looks a little sheepish, his grin growing just a tad crooked.
"I think you'll find the real contract much more amiable."
The second set of papers is indeed much more favorable to the employee, including all the benefits and pay detailed in the first, plus some. There's no mention of body part seizure or indentured servitude, at least. At first blush, the only thing different is a clause that specifies that due to the sensitive nature of this particular cargo, the courier employee(s) will consent to a decontamination session before transport begins, and after delivery is made in full.
Blurr may noticed that this set is much more specific in regards to what he will be carrying. What it is never mentioned, but the wording very clearly indicates that this is a Special Cargo and that this is a Specially Prepared Contract.
"Questions?"
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 7, 2010 10:15:43 GMT -5
Blurr has decided there is something terribly creepy about a human-like person who doesn't smile with his eyes. It looks… off. Wrong. But the "real" contract distracts the speedster from Noah's unsettling smiles; he drops the first heap of paper and grabs the second from the air the very instant it leaves Noah's fingers. He reads this one, too, just as carefully as the last.
"Decontamination," he blurts out once he finishes the last page for the second time. "I suppose if it's volatile as you say it is a decontamination makes sense, I mean I wouldn't want to bring anything back with me that might hurt someone–" Like Haywire, or one of those part-organic Maximals. "–But why have it twice like this, before and after, or is it sensitive enough that bringing anything else in, so to speak, would upset it too? And if it's really so bad that it could be set off like that – because that's pretty bad – why not seal it in a sterile container or isolation field or something to stabilise it a little more?" Precious cargo deserves all the precautions, doesn't it?
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Post by SceneMod on Apr 7, 2010 11:02:39 GMT -5
Noah laughs, and while it isn't a smile exactly, something does twinkle in his eyes. "Have you gotten a good look at the population of Pz-Zazz, yet, Blurr? The cargo itself is very well protected, and in much the manner you suggest. But every new species brings their own unique set of issues and possible interactions and we've learned the hard way that containment and isolation aren't enough."
He leans back, "Take the Slitorax of the Zax nebula. They are naturally the host for a parasite that lives as a film on their skin. Keeps their skin from drying out, or some such. But the parasite excretes a gas that while odorless and colorless, creates rapid decay in certain metallic compounds." Noah sighs. "That was quite the mess, it was, even if it wasn't a Primatech problem."
"So we implemented the decontamination as two-part procedure, and because it gives the impression that we care that much more about our customers' items."
"In short," here Noah frowns slightly, "even though you and your friends all seem like average robots on the outside, you could be carrying Devourer knows what. And you lot have already caused enough of a stir, so really, what's the harm?"
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Blurr
Minor
There Before You Know It, Gone Before You Blink
Posts: 304
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Post by Blurr on Apr 7, 2010 11:59:48 GMT -5
Metal-decaying gas. That draws a grimace from Blurr and that grimace quickly turns into a frown as Noah goes on. Blurr then huffs and crosses his arms, glaring toward the window. Okay, fine, so trouble always seems to follow them! Don't have to rub it in his face like this!
"Fine, fine," Blurr grumbles, "sure. So do you have a pen or a pencil or something, I'll even take a crayon if it's legal around here." Because he won't get to hear any more – or earn any money – until he signs that confidentiality agreement.
It isn't that he doesn't catch everything Noah says. Noah just happens to have annoyed him and Blurr's temper runs ahead of his mouth. It's in the middle of page two, embossed fountain pen in hand, that Blurr pauses for a split second in the middle of his signature. He doesn't look up from the paper. He doesn't say anything. He starts moving again just as quickly as he stopped, and it may look like he was just resettling his grip on the pen.
Did Noah just say Devourer?
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