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Post by Spinister on Dec 1, 2009 16:45:39 GMT -5
In his future, Spinister knows that, if he had stayed in his home timeline, he would have visited Pz-Zazz and been assigned in a recon detail by Thunderwing.
Thunderwing's not here.
It would have made things interesting.
As it is, Spinister's located the nearest police department, and he's invited some specific company, because even Spinister doesn't want to dive into a building full of armed personnel alone.
If Spinister is any judge of character, and cities do have character, the police department here is likely swamped and willing to hand a badge and a flashlight to anyone who isn't obviously a petty crook, then send the rookie off to go fetch doughnuts and read meters.
It is the badge that interests Spinister. Because it doesn't really read 'to serve and protect'. It reads 'send an Autobot to jail for free'.
So he's painted over his Decepticon symbols, because to Spinister's optics, they look like gang signs, and he's tossed on a suit jacket and a driver cap, as robots around here tend to wear clothing. He reaches out to open the door, looking over his shoulder to see if his guest is still there.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 1, 2009 18:04:48 GMT -5
Oh, Barricade is still there, trailing along behind him in a black trench coat and matching fedora. The concept of clothing is almost as bad as having had to cover not only his symbols, but also a certain incriminating phrase on each rear fender.
But for a "toss Autobrats in jail free" badge? He'll deal with it. Happily.
Besides, black really is his color, and the mechs he's been seeing seem to share Spinister's build type more than anyone from Barricade's reality. Might as well try to blend in a little. And the trenchcoat is a great place to hide a few... toys. Barricade is looking forward to doing a little shopping down here on Pz-Zazz.
But first, badge. Then his favorite game: Break The 'Bot.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 1, 2009 18:17:04 GMT -5
Spinister also wants to do some shopping. Probably not at the same places as Barricade, but you never know!
Spinister is kind of okay with the idea of clothing, because he has two guns who wear clothing when they're not busy being guns. Clothing is also kind of like Pretender shells. Spinister also doesn't have any pants on, though, so it is debatable just how well he understands the concept.
But he does wonder if Barricade got Frenzy a matching outfit or no.
The department is ratty and dirty inside, with beings of various shapes and sizes rushing to and fro, giving the place a hectic, panicked atmosphere. It reeks of desperation.
His gaze sweeps about, and it settles on a dusty box containing application forms. Bingo.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 1, 2009 18:55:57 GMT -5
Never know! Barricade is pretty board with life on Ship right now; he's willing to give just about anyplace a shot to find things to liven up life.
Clothes are just strange, and generally don't last long on their spikey, razor...ey... structures. But Barricade has made sure to have slits cut for his pokey-est bits to keep them from tearing the coat up. It should also be pointed out that he lacks pants as well.
And, no, he didn't make a set to fit Frenzy. He didn't even let Frenzy see him in this get-up before hopping that shuttle down with Spinister. Little glitch would have laughed his shardy little aft off.
Hmm... Maybe Barricade should make a set for Frenzy after all, in that case. They could do a ventriloquist act. Jack the Ripper and his dummy Evicerate.
Red optics narrow as he takes in the hussle and bussle within the station. Chaos and frustration. His favorite. Yeah, he can do some damage here. Fun times, fun times, and it's a good thing he's a decent actor and able to keep that satisfied smile he's feeling carefully out of sight. Now to make it official.
He snags a pair of applications and passes one to Spinister.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 2, 2009 12:07:25 GMT -5
Frenzy is probably busy with a pimp hat, then.
Spinister takes a form from Barricade, nodding his head in a quick thanks. He holds it up against a clear (but not clean) patch of wall, in between faded WANTED posters with mustaches drawn on the faces.
There is a woman at the desk who can't spare a glance for the two robots, as she's occupied with a line - first in line, seems someone is complaining about a rocket crashing down on his sausage cart when he already paid the protection money to the Space Mafia.
Spinister rubs his chin, considering the drafting snatches of conversation, and he tries to lightly nudge Barricade with his elbow.
Hmm. Now does he need a weapons permit or a pet license for his Nebulans?
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 2, 2009 23:06:16 GMT -5
Knowing this place? Both pet and weapon. More registration fees that way. Or more gears to grease, however it ends up working.
Barricade gives Spinister a very subtle nod, his own audio receptors soaking up every sliver of conversation floating around them. Rocket crashing down, eh? Sounds like the Autobots might be doing half their work for them!
"Sounds like there's a lot of excitement going on around town," Barricade observes conversationally to Spinister as he works on filling out his own application. "Come to think of it, weren't those dangerous felons, the Autobots, running around in a rocket? Hope that isn't them. Nice place like this doesn't need the trouble those criminals can stir up, y'know?"
Just a couple of civic minded joes, hoping to help serve the city, and shooting the breeze together while they're submitting their request to assist. That's all. Really. Nothing to see here, folks. Move along.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 3, 2009 12:42:53 GMT -5
Both pet and weapon, according to Misfire. Spinister pulls out forms enough for Needlenose, Misfire, and himself, and a few extra weapons forms. Some of the Decepticons certainly have unusual enough weapons to require exotic permits.
He nods soberly as Barricade makes his comments, he replies, even sounding tired and disgusted, "Autobots. A cancer on the galaxy itself."
No one in the bustling crowd seems to react to the mention of 'Autobots' with any sign of recognition, though some of the shrewder looking character might be taking a mental note.
Spinister's application is either entirely honest or a magnificent lie, depending on how one views lying by omission.
Experience enforcing speed limit by aircraft. Yes.
After he hands the application in and files for the permits - he'll worry about the money later; that is what people like Frenzy are for, to steal bank accounts - he glances at a map pinned to the wall, staring right at the city's largest reservoir.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 8, 2009 23:04:04 GMT -5
"Yeah. But, what are the chances that they made it all the way out here?" Barricade asks off-handedly as he pretends to concentrate on filling out the forms. "This is a bit off the usual 'plunder path' for those gang-bangers, isn't it?"
Barricade has also made note of that reservoir. Hopefully it's fairly deep. Good places to lose bodies, reservoirs are. So are active construction sites and refinery smelters and landfills, and if any of those types of locations are noted on that map, he's memorizing those coordinates, too.
Otherwise, he might just suggest to Spinister that they do a little... sight seeing while they're waiting for their applications to be processed.
While Spinister's application might be true, Barricade's is a perfect fabrication of concientious service to society and courteous adherance to duty, truth, and order... with just enough tarnish glazed on top to make him believably mortal and not too perfect. Perfection is suspicious, while a minor flaw adds verisimilitude.
It's a good thing that Frenzy isn't there to read it over his shoulder, so to speak. Barricade isn't certain that the frenetic little psycho could keep a straight face through it all.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 9, 2009 17:38:59 GMT -5
Having one's little partners ROFLing on the floor appears to be a common hazard on Pz-Zazz.
Spinister thinks for a moment and also grabs a stack of permits for using one's inherent flight.
Yeah, you need a permit for that.
Pz-Zazz would make even the Sphinx herself take the bus, if she didn't pay the flight fine.
One flight permit for himself, the application, and permits for guns and pets, and he is done.
Spinister says, "One in a million chances happen nine times out of ten. Better vigilant than dead."
No, the map does not mark construction sites, as those are impermanent. The map is pretty old, really, a little pout of date, but the things like reservoirs, landfills, and smelters won't have vanished.
Oh hey, there's even a trash-burning power plant!
Spinister is such a defective tourist.
He quirks a rotor to one side and asks Barricade, "Shall we?"
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 9, 2009 19:30:57 GMT -5
"True enough," Barricade agrees. And better sneaky and well planned out than just plain vigilant, he says, but that just goes without saying.
One application, check. One permit for integrated weapons, check. Few permits for non-integrated weapons, check. Hell, even a driving permit, just to be safe, check. A pet permit tucked away, just in case Frenzy decides to join them after all, and boy, won't that be fun breaking to the little psycho?
Everything gets filled out (in duplicate, because Barricade is just a little paranoid like that) and handed in to be processed before he turns back to Spinister.
"Sure," he replies, adding a quick and polite thanks to the one to takes their various permits and applications from them. Hey, never hurts to be courteous in situations like these!
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Post by Spinister on Dec 18, 2009 23:19:45 GMT -5
Frenzy might be a dependant, as he's the same species as a Barricade.
Or perhaps a spouse.
Spinister won't ask and certainly won't tell.
He lets Barricade be the courteous black knight. C'mon, let's go see if there are any construction sites nearby before they check the reservoir. He slips out the door.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 29, 2009 19:01:23 GMT -5
Frenzy as a nagging fishwife. The image amuses.
Sounds like a plan, boss man. Mech. Heh. Might wanna check out any local scrapyards and smelting operations in the area, too. But Spinister has probably already thought of that. Barricade follows in his wake like a brooding shadow, all noir and subtly dramatic like.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 29, 2009 22:05:56 GMT -5
Soon enough, along the way to the reservoir, the intrepid bad cops pass a construction site.
This was a rather low-rent area. Now it is being torn down, to put in a shiny new casino for the rich folks. Some of the previous tenants are still here, now in boxes along the side of the road, but most have scattered, one way or the other.
Progress.
Spinister ambles closer to the site, lightly touching the chain-link fence, listening to it rattle.
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Barricade
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Post by Barricade on Dec 31, 2009 19:32:55 GMT -5
Progress, indeed.
All that concrete being poued, all that land being moved, all those materials being cut and shaped and dumpsters full of waste being processed as quickly as they can be hauled away and returned... Property like this loses money every day that the construction isn't complete, and so the workers will be building as quick as their supervisors can force them to. And the supervisors will be cracking the whip as quick as their bosses pay out or threaten, alternately. Supervisors who might be able to find it in their hearts and sparks to not notice a little extra garbage or a bit of unauthorized fill in the foundation - for a price.
So it all boils down to money.
"Looks like it'll be a big place. Lots of opportunity there. Good jobs coming up. Soon as it's built, that is. How long you think it'll take for them to get that foundation all poured? Can't build a stick without a good, strong foundation."
A good strong foundation with enough concrete that no one should even notice the displacement of a few hundred yards of it by the addition of a bit of... scrap metal. Faction optional.
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Post by Spinister on Dec 31, 2009 23:54:32 GMT -5
Pz-Zazz has proper day and night cycles, chained to a star as it is, not a wandering planet like Cybertron so often is. The days can be as dark as nights, however, with the smog, and the nights bright as day, under all the flickering neon lights.
Spinister looks for the shadows. They can't keep the whole site illuminated and wouldn't want to, if they could. For the holes in the fences. For the paths he could take where he would be unseen, where is footprints would be buried under dust and scraped away by the next day's leveller.
Spinister notes quietly, "Be a shame if any hollow pockets undermined the whole foundation. Could collapse. People get hurt."
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