gunsforhire | LOG: Anywhere you go, there you are

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LOG: Anywhere you go, there you are

Who: Anyone who's out and about town
What: Mingling
Where: The business district and casino
When: A fairly normal day
Warnings: Please warn as needed

It's a rare day, one with clear skies and empty air, and everyone seems to be out and about, shopping and stopping in to various places of entertainment to make the most of it. Some people are even seen without their helmets, a risky behavior but one which they chose take the luxury of indulging in.

Today's curious though, for it's the day that Jimmy settles his newest acquisition into a basement room of the casino. The Transponser, a teleportation device, left to malfunction until the inventor who sold it to him can be located again, for yes, he's made himself scarce after this deception. Apparently getting money for his work was more attractive than perfecting the technology behind it.

In any case, it's a day for socializing and getting to know friends better and meet neighbors.

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Well, there was a difference between taking someone at their word and appearing to do so. It was one part wanting to give a benefit of a doubt and another part of not seeing how accusing someone of being a liar would get her more information. At least not without circumstances going that way. At the very least if she tried to believe, she could test out the information on her own LATER.

Sadly, the price will come as a surprise. That's a new concept entirely, she never felt the need to hoard information for profit herself.

There is a second's hesitation, though her smile never wavers, before she loops her arm with his. "My, my, what a gentleman!" She said with a light laugh. "And I'm lighter on the creds, but hey, doesn't hurt to check options? Or who knows, maybe I'll find a way to make creds soon."

Or the five fingered discount. Stealing was legit enough.

Oh this was wonderful. Here he'd been hoping for a chance of learning something and instead he has a potential new source of all sorts of interesting things. Where, for instance, is this girl being exposed to krypton? How interesting! Certain this perks up his day.

"Well that's the spirit dear! Charon is this way. They do all the best in helmets. Well, not the best best, but close. There is such a difference between custom helmets such as my own and mass produced varieties."

He laughs lightly to himself because it's an understatement. But he pats her hand gently and leads her down the street. "So, my dear, what brings you to Gulch?"

~~Let Roxy tell you about Homestuck.~~ Perhaps the most hilarious thing is she would be able to explain almost everything, being the receiver of several infodumps. Whether Florida will believe it or think she's absolutely insane is up to debate. At least she could get all scientific about the multiverse thing.

"So Charon is the big corporation, huh?" There's a slight frown at that. Helmets mass produced. No, no, she definitely didn't like that at all. She never liked to hear about corporations with their hands in technology that goes around your brain. "So, what, custom are made by local shops, or what?"

She snorted. "Fate going 'fuck you,' mostly. Some dicks in power decided a bunch of shit and whoops, no place for me anymore." Which was true, but she was kind of expecting to DIE with everyone else, not get transported to yet another universe. "And this ended up being the most convenient place to go."

"Convenience does seem to bring so many here," Florida smiles. "As, sadly enough, does people being unkind to others."

Of course that doesn't describe everyone. But he has to wonder just what more happened. Who believes in fate? Who are these ones in power? Can he make use of this information?

Yet the rule of thumb to getting information tends to be giving first. Unless you're paying.

"Charon is the largest manufacturer of fine helmets as well as many other products. To be a licensed helmet modder you have to get certification through Charon, in part because of the risk to people's lives. But custom helmets aren't by locals."

He hums thoughtfully, as if he's considering some juicy tidbit. Then he leans in, as if conspiratorial, and pitches his helmet speaker output a bit lower.

"Truth be told, my own helmet is a custom job. The people who do these are more... artisan than simple shop owners. It costs more. A lot more, but it's so worth the work. There's a specialist, of course. They call them 'the Wrench.' Very high end."

"Smh," she said while actually shaking her head. "What is so hard about not being a dick? I mean, yeah, sure, I get some assholery every once and a while, but complete dickitude should not be hard to avoid."

Roxy's frown increased as Florida described Charon. Oh no, no, she really was not liking the sound of Charon. Not helped by how close it sounds to Crocker, but she's pretty sure that IS just plain paranoia. Still, any company that has final say over something that affects people's lives should be questioned thoroughly. "Huh."

She leaned in closer for the whisper and it takes a moment before the pieces connect. "Oh, I get it," she said. This was an illegal thing, wasn't it? It seemed like an illegal thing like in the movies.

Really, that just made it more appealing. "Dun have the creds now, but hell, I'm more than willing to work for stuff that's worth it." And isn't likely to have mind control things build into the thing. "They got a set up, or do I gotta jump through hoops to contact 'em?"

"Loops, to be sure," Florida chuckles quietly. "Wrench is a very private individual."

Not that Wrench wouldn't help. If Florida was really nice and called in a favor or three she might even cut a bit off the girl's price. A very little bit. Like a fraction of a percent, but he could filter her some money to make it seem like he was getting this girl a better deal. And then a kind word from Wrench and this girl might give him some information about why she was coming out of Jimmy's casino with only a gas mask. And where she came from.

What was the Transponser, what was Jimmy doing with it, and what might this girl have to do with that mystery.

"Luckily I know the loops and as the sort of man who has jumped through them before, I will happily guide you."

Roxy nodded. "So it is a loopy sitch." Which made sense with the illegal thing. So movies were right about that. It was all cloak and dagger, and now that she thought about it, sounded pretty fun. Plus sticking it to probably corrupt corporation.

"Seriously? I'd really 'preciate it, rather know what I'm shootin' for sooner," she said with a wide grin. "And I'm p good when I know the loops." Really, it was lucky she had found someone who knew and was nice enough to tell her right away.

...wait.

Roxy still wasn't much for just distrusting people, but she DOES know the pattern of how she finds out things. There's always been some downside, either it being a trap, or having to commit ritualistic suicide. Things like that. And like those movies, the people weren't always nice. But maybe she's just jumping to conclusions?

"Is there a way to pay you back? You're being supes helpful." There. Really, she wouldn't mind paying back the favor, and if there was something he was after, she could offer it more on her terms. Win-win that.

Edited (Being first draft was a phonetag anyway.) 2015-03-05 04:58 (UTC)

"Ah, a girl that gets to the heart of the matter with pleasing efficiency," Florida chuckles at the comment.

He likes it so much more when they just come right out and ask for the price. Thing is few people care so much about that. Sure it is pleasant to talk price over tea or coffee or something else, but in the end it's nice to get to the heart of the matter.

Florida pulls his arm from hers and bows low before her. "Let us be honest here. I'm but a humble information broker. And you have something about you, that is as much where you came from as when that implies you might have something marketable."

Sometimes straightforward is the best way to do things in this work, and she seems quick enough to understand. Or at least infer more than he said. So he intends to just get it out there.

"What I propose is a simple exchange. You tell me what you were doing in Jimmy's, and I set you up with a way to contact Wrench."

"Info broker, huh? Okay, that makes sense," Roxy said with a thoughtful nod. He did pick up what she was doing awful fast. Not even her friends picked up her more subtle info mongering most of the time, but if it was this guy's job....well, he wouldn't be very good if he didn't.

Roxy was silent for several long moments. The pros and cons of the information, if people could get hurt by it. It might make them a Target, but then again, so could being mysterious. And really, how long until someone said something anyway? Probably not long, its a hard thing to hide.

"Wasn't doin' anything. Jimmy's got a faulty transdimensional teleporter that likes to kidnap people. Decided to check out this place on my own so I dun get bias from whatev speech he has prepared."

Edited 2015-03-07 22:25 (UTC)

"Well isn't that interesting," Florida whispers more to himself.

More than interesting. There has been something said about a device called a Transponser, but no word what it is. How intriguing.

"I suppose I'll have to call upon my dear friend in the near future to find out more, but thank you very kindly young lady for that. A transdimensional teleporter you say? So you truly aren't from here. Intriguing. I've meant people from a great deal of planets, even a few from Old Earth, but never someone from somewhere beyond what I would think of as normal space."

Won't this make things more interesting? The question is how does he market what he's learned.

Well, that is something he can figure out on his own later. For now he pulls a small credit chip from his pocket, only a few hundred credits, not much, but more than enough to help a bit.

"This is a chip with some of our currency. Untraceable of course. A friend of mine loaded it, but it seems a good start for paying you back. And this..."

He takes out a piece of paper and writes a few directions on it. A trash can seven blocks away that had a false-panel to it that one slipped money and an offer into and contact information, in hopes that Wrench would see them.

"Is how you find the Wrench. I think they might be intrigued by you. Tell them Florida sent you and he's asking for a favor. That should help a bit. But of course I will show you to the Charon store first, so you can determine whether that might suit you first."

"I'm from a version of Earth, but probs not this one," Roxy said with a shrug. Colonization had been a far off dream before the Batterwitch showed up.

Roxy accepted the chip and instructions, tilting her head thoughtfully. Business had some reliability, if she understood it right. It wouldn't hurt to have connections early to. Especially when it concerned information.

"I'll make sure to do that. And yeah, it'd be good to see Charon at the very least." Though she's already decided to avoid them if at all possible. Coincidences didn't happen to her often, and distrust sounded safer.

"But, y'know, this isn't my first rodeo. Interdimensional has been kind of a thing for a while now and what separates the universes are actually my specialty." It couldn't hurt to make the offer, at least. It was always better to have options.

He stops in his tracks, staring at the girl.

"All... all my years, all my knowledge, all my travels and I've never heard of interdimensional travel. It's been theorized but, well, nothing has been achieved on those fronts to my knowledge."

Of course that is a bit spotty because it's not a common topic for even a mercenary in his line. In fact, it's something he hasn't even thought about. So what the girl is offering...

"If you'll forgive me for being so straight-forward here, your claim alone is hard to accept. To be told that a relatively unknown situation is actually common for one such as yourself is... strange at best. Another might just assume you're making a story up."

He's learned over the years that even fanciful stories come with a grain of truth in them. The question of where that is here is the one worth investigating.

"Nah, that's legit. Honestly I was surprised you accepted the transdimensional thing, but I guess I wasn't clear. Basic gist? Where I was, was a micro universe. Had a total of se-no, eleven planets in it. Weird shit, whole big story. So wherever the hell I am? Not the universe I was in," Roxy said matter of factly.

She paused. "And universe does mean the whole of existence. Time, space, laws of physics."

She looked down at the mask, eyes growing distant. "It's not common like....world wide or whatever. Only a few peeps are directly involved and only some of us have a clue on how any of the shit works. But yeah, it's all basically an insane sci fi story to anyone who yawn't lived it. One of the others didn't believe it 'til she was dragged in directly."

Edited 2015-03-08 02:11 (UTC)

This he has to think about.

"I've... personally visited at least sixteen planets, including Adaptive, so yes, we're not where you're from."

This doesn't make any sense, but he's certain he can sell it somewhere. Maybe Charon.

"Well, some people might argue that Adaptive itself is a pretty insane sci-fi story. Or a lot of colony planets. But when your race barely survives an interstellar war, a lot becomes more easily accepted."

Roxy actually laughed at that. "It is pretty amazing how much that helps." Was there just a touch ilof bitterness in that smile?

"Go far nuff back and it's crazy. I'd guess peeps need to be 21st century 'fore it stops seeming so weird." She agreed, looking more amused now. "But hey, easy proof," she added, spreading her arms. It doesn't get any easier than being on the planet, after all.

"'Fraid I dun have it so easy. Most obvs stuff has problems, maybe 'cause physics, so can't really do anything..." But that annoyed her. She was a scientist, there had to be proof! Not items though.

Maybe genes? "I guess one question is how someone ends up with hot pink eyes in this universe."

Edited 2015-03-08 03:24 (UTC)

"Oh that?" Florida chuckles and waves a dismissive hand. "Yes, your eyes are an oddity, but not necessarily a unique one. Beyond cosmetic surgery and corrective lenses?"

He hesitates for a moment. It's weird to give away information without something in exchange. Yet this is easily stuff that comes up in any textbook so really, it's not a big deal.

"Genetic alteration and augmentation was popular before and during the Great War. The goal was lofty, to say the very least. People aimed to improve human stock to make us better soldiers. Better at sneaking. Better at survival. Some results still linger in genetic code today. I know a woman, for instance, with eyes that are an almost lime sort of green. So there are a number of ways to explain your appearance away."

But clearly, from the way she's pointing them out to support her explanations, it doesn't occur where she is from. Strange.

Roxy nodded. "All very possible. Cause the right mutations, insert a few variables, and hell, you could give a human gills. Takes a few shots to make sure they dun suffocate. But stuff like that leaves evidence. Surgery has scars, or signs of something artificial. Genetic alteration leaves marks in the DNA." Sue may have some experience with genetics.

Like maybe mutating one cat's genes to be a breedable species.

"But that's not mine. It's all norm human genes, but been mixed in a weird way. Willing to bet whatever system you guys have won't have the same markers as ectobiology."

Ectobiology?

Leave it to Florida to find a crazy woman coming out of the casino. But he keeps smiling and nods.

"Oh different attempts left marks in different ways I'm sure. But genetics are not my strong suit. Anyway, there we are."

All he can do is point up the street toward the clearly advertised Charon store. "Charon's employees are always wonderfully helpful. If you choose them, well, I'd suggest getting a helmet to go with your lovely eyes. It has been a true pleasure, my dear."

Roxy raised an eyebrow. "Crossed the line to bullshit, huh? Le sign, its her all over again," she said, shaking her head. "Well, if you ever change your mind, genetics is mine, so I could explain the diff to anyone who does know genetics."

Then she pouted at him. "Though I'd prefer leaving the smiling and nodding humoring, just makes me want to prove things. Do you know how annoying it is to be a lady of science, but have to spout off crazy without proof? The answer is a lot."

"Well, it's gotta be pink or purple. Though I'll probs talk Wrench 'fore deciding anything," she said, heading down the street. "Ttyl."

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LOG: Anywhere you go, there you are

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