Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Jun 18, 2010 0:34:25 GMT -5
Day 20, open
There's nothing more awe-inspiring than finding something you like in the least likely of places. Jetstorm has been staring up at the large theater building for about ten minutes, hovering about mid-way up the building itself. He shakes his head, and then darts down amidst the crowds, checks his stash of local currency (his smooth talking has gained more than one male or female right out of their money in some cases!) and then nods.
"Tonight," he declares to himself, stroking his chin, "Tonight calls for a night of operatic culture. Because, as that Primus I heard about only knows there's no culture on the Decepticon ship." He shakes his head and then lowers himself almost down to the ground and makes his way to the ticket office. He peers over at the prices for the opera of the night and makes a bit of a face. It looks like the good seats are mostly taken. Mostly. As long as he can pay to get in, Jetstorm figures he can sneak around to a better place. Flying and being quite small does have its advantages.
Jetstorm doesn't like lines, but he waits patiently, occasionally brushing off his suit, a dark blue suit that matches his paint job quite nicely, or looking around and watching the people go by. Other people line up behind him as well, and the line moves along slowly.
Mostly because of the elderly couple arguing at the ticket office. Jetstorm looks over at them and then rubs the spot where 'temples' would be on his head. "Damn organics," he murmurs.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Jun 20, 2010 23:17:47 GMT -5
Culture is one of those snooty things Slugslinger tends to ignore. Who needs culture when you can just kick back with some blended fuel and have fun instead? Only there's no real fun to be had around here. Just a long queue full of giant fleshies wearing fancy wrappers.
Slugslinger doesn't bother with the clothing thing. For one, it's for lowly organics. For two, he's just too good looking to cover up with more than a fresh coat of polish.
Not that he'd waste the polish on these losers, he thinks with a snort as he looks up and down the crowd clustered on the pavement. Unlike a certain tiny jet with a suit fetish.
"What're you doing in this dump, shorty?" Slugslinger asks Jetstorm a little too loudly as he swaggers right up to the Vehicon, cutting into the queue. He revels in the dirty looks because, seriously, what can a bunch of oversized meatsacks do to him?
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Jun 22, 2010 13:56:00 GMT -5
Jetstorm has found himself in a fascinating conversation with the being in front of him as the line moves along, as lines tend to make temporary friends for those in line. The being in question is about 12 feet tall, has a silver tint to its skin, and is wearing large pieces of armor that appear to be part of its body. It could be said that it's a female, considering it has somewhat of a feminine shape, but the armored boots, shoulder pieces, and even large head fins make it hard to tell.
Jetstorm seems flattered to be talking to the female as the line moves along, as if she's somebody important. She converses with him in the local language, which was easy enough to pick up for Jetstorm, about the show. Jetstorm seems all too eager to see it when Slugslinger decides to bother him.
"Homm dy-shoka vu loga!" This was obviously not the local language, as Jetstorm looked terribly confused, his small horns fanning down to the side as he tilts his head to the side. The female waves as she buys her ticket and eyes the large mech. She makes some sort of hand gesture to Jetstorm, and then boosters as part of her armor flare up and she flies off.
The Vehicon General turns and glares up at Slugslinger, after he buys his ticket of course. "That was somebody cultured, which obviously you don't care about. Strike one," he shakes a finger and then flies up to his optic level. "And what, do I know you? I don't think I do, and thus, your opinion is null and void. Strike two!"
Jetstorm spots the Decepticon symbol and tilts his head to the side, "Unless you just arrived, then I guess I'll give it a pass on that last strike."
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Jun 22, 2010 17:30:39 GMT -5
All through Jetstorm's hissy fit, Slugslinger just rolls his eyes and smirks.
"Just how're you planning to tally strike three there, mittens?" he asks, holding up his own hand with his fingers bunched to mimic Jetstorm's dinky three digits. "If you're gonna use your thumb, you might as well stick it up your afterburner now. You get the same result in half the time." He waves that hand at the crowd, who give him increasingly foul looks and start muttering about what a base, crude mechanoid he is and why hasn't security been called yet. All the attention makes his vanes tingle. "Culture belongs in a Petri dish anyway. So," and only now does he bother looking at the signage, "what's this about? One of those indie productions with the lame sets and bad lighting? Or that musical stuff where they caterwaul the whole story at you in a foreign language?"
How Slugslinger even knows what opera is may be a subject of debate for a long, long time, because he'll never give a straight answer on it. He isn't too sure himself.
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Jun 26, 2010 12:05:53 GMT -5
Jetstorm shakes his head, selectively listening to nothing that the new mech says. At all. One could even think he turned off his audials when he was looking away at the crowds nearby while Slugslinger spoke.
"As if you'd understand anything beyond 'Smash,' and 'Be Ignorant,'" Jetstorm looks back and then waves a hand dismissively. "Now excuse me, uh... Whatever you are. I have to go find someplace to wait out the time between now and the show. If you care to be open minded about something different, though heh, I highly doubt you will, you're free to join me."
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Jun 26, 2010 21:44:10 GMT -5
Wow. Wow. And people call Slugslinger rude. At least he listens when someone asks him a question.
He kind of almost likes this little twerp, except that he doesn't so much care for the company Jetstorm chooses to keep; and it isn't like he really hates organics. Hating them means he cares. They're just so beneath him.
"You say that like there's something wrong with smashing things and being ignorant of pointless organic wastes of time," he drawls through his grin, waving just as dismissively as Jetstorm did – and possibly trying to deliberately accidentally swat the Vehicon like the talkative mosquito he is while turning to leave. "And you're right. You couldn't pay me enough to sit indoors with a bunch of smelly, sticky fleshies." He hears someone calling for security and shrugs. "But thanks for warning me you swing that way," he adds. "I'll be on standby with some decontaminant when you get back."
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Jun 29, 2010 19:50:09 GMT -5
"Well, it's good to hear you have common sense about disliking organics. Nasty, vile, disgusting things," He darts away as Slugslinger waves his hand. Jetstorm's too fast to be hit by slow waving like that.
"They only do a few good things, and if I want to sit in the rafters and nearly sleep and relax on my day off, who's to say that I cannot?" He looks around, sighing a bit, "Tailing an Autobot was the pinnacle of boring. Absolute, utter boredom!"
He pauses and taps a finger against his chin, "It is only inside for what can feel like a moment," he leans back in the air and looks at the building. "And it starts soon. I'm not wasting ... earned money to stand out here and argue with a mech I do not know."
ooc: Thinking a time skip to afterwards would be fine, as waiting outside is going nowhere. Let me know if you agree or not and I'll post accordingly afterward.
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Slugslinger
Minor
And if it weren't for this blasted coin…
Posts: 388
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Post by Slugslinger on Jun 29, 2010 21:09:08 GMT -5
Slugslinger smirks a broad, contemptuous smirk, but Jetstorm can't see it since he has his back turned to the little guy.
"They write some pretty hilarious TV shows," he says. "They call 'em sitcoms. Funny slag." And every bit of his tone says even something like Married with Children is better than opera. "But whatever. Have fun with the screechy stuff." He swaggers off down the street, ignoring traffic and the horns blaring at him, just as two stern, burly, suit-clad security officers manage to round the building. One almost goes after Slugslinger, but is stopped by the other, who shakes his head.
OOC: I'm fine with skipping or whatever works, though if you don't want to go after Slugslinger wherever he wanders, you can consider him out of thread as of this post.
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Jetstorm (BM)
Minor
Producer, Director, Actor, Writer, but not prop boy, Jetstorm, soon to be winner of some award.
Posts: 355
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Post by Jetstorm (BM) on Jul 2, 2010 21:59:55 GMT -5
ooc: Time Skip to after the show, about 2 hours-ish.
Jetstorm makes his way out, looking a bit groggy and tired. He rubs at his optics and then stretches and looks around. He wonders where that loud, annoying mech went, but he doesn't bother looking around very much. He instead floats along, looking a bit wobbly and almost like he's drunk, and finds an unoccupied bench. He sits down, carefully.
"That was enjoyable," he murmurs to himself as he leans back and looks up at the sky.
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