Difference between revisions of "Meet the Bolded K Crew - RPLOG"
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She draws slow and easy, with a friendly show-and-tell. "Fancy..." Richard says, nodding and slowly retrieving a couple from his own collection. A semi-auto pistol with a supressor, and a compact pump-action. "I'm more of a function over form sort just to cut down on the time I spend keeping them in good condition, but you're holding a piece of art. What's your name? And now that I think of it, what's the mayor's? Big Z didn't see fit to fill me in on that."</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> Kamryn glances back as the robotic medic returns, assuming the burn patient had been dealt with as necessary. The stranger's tone puts her on edge for a moment, until she reveals her enthusiasm and excitedly shows the pair her custom gun. Relaxing, she examines the pistol appreciatively. "Energy weapons are more my thing" she says, tapping the rifle slung over her shoulder, "but that does look like a decent bit of kit you have there". She extends a hand in greeting after Richard speaks, adding "I'm Kamryn. Nice place you've got here, if a little... spartan... at the moment"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Arris slurs, "I ain't too big on the ones with magazines, nor the 'lazer' kinds. Not my type, truth be told." The gun is twirled before it gets pouched in leather once more, the shark's right hand extending after to take Kamryn's. "You both can call me Martina. As for the mayor... well, she don't like bein' called mayor, but her name's Gillian. You have urgent business with her or somethin'? She should be rolling in after a couple of minutes, since..." Martina checks her wrist, pulling up the sleeve around a suprrisingly intact watch. "... it's high noon now, so she should be coming anytime soon. Why don't you folk rest yourselves with a lager inside?" Unleaning from the wall, she walks over and pulls open the once-automatic glass sliding door."</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Outside the medical tent, Zephyr workers come and go, but for now, it seems there aren't any immediate emergencies.</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle is caught in a loop and is on standby until the counter that represents the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff within the medical tent. The robot is stuck in "Standby Mode", staring at the opening of the tent and the people inside.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard gives a quick once-over of Kamryn's laser. He cringes. "Ooh. You're not gonna want to see how far I put function over form for my RASER rifle." ...Did he slur that? "Looks like modern art made out of the inside of a microwave." He holsters his pistol and shakes Martina's hand simultaneously. "Pleasure to meet you, miss. We were told she's the one to look for if we want to find something to help with. You're a close second, by the looks of it." He slides along behind her as she moves to enter the gas station, but looks back to see that the synthetic and tentacled member of the crew seems... stuck. "Uh, be right along with you. I've got someone to attend to." Shotgun hanging limply at his side, held at its balance point in the middle rather than either of the grips, he approaches the befuddled 'bot. "C'mon, we'll find something else to do. Follow me," he says, waving for her to come along back to the meeting that's due to begin.</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> "A drink does sound pretty good if we've got a little time" Kamryn says, following the roboshark towards the door. "So, what's this Gillian like? Friendly and charismatic sort of leader or...". She briefly glances over to Tim. "...not?"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">The inside of the saloon proves homely; had it not been for the cooler doors, fluorescent lights, and the front-register-turned-bar, it might have fooled anyone who lacked knowledge of the old west into thinking that it was an actual saloon. Some construction workers -- identifiable by their hard hats and logo-emblazened jumpsuits -- have congregated around a table, playing a game of hold 'em poker. The bar isn't attended at the present, unless one counts the pigeon nesting at the edge of the bar, or the lady sitting in front of it near said bird. | She draws slow and easy, with a friendly show-and-tell. "Fancy..." Richard says, nodding and slowly retrieving a couple from his own collection. A semi-auto pistol with a supressor, and a compact pump-action. "I'm more of a function over form sort just to cut down on the time I spend keeping them in good condition, but you're holding a piece of art. What's your name? And now that I think of it, what's the mayor's? Big Z didn't see fit to fill me in on that."</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> Kamryn glances back as the robotic medic returns, assuming the burn patient had been dealt with as necessary. The stranger's tone puts her on edge for a moment, until she reveals her enthusiasm and excitedly shows the pair her custom gun. Relaxing, she examines the pistol appreciatively. "Energy weapons are more my thing" she says, tapping the rifle slung over her shoulder, "but that does look like a decent bit of kit you have there". She extends a hand in greeting after Richard speaks, adding "I'm Kamryn. Nice place you've got here, if a little... spartan... at the moment"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Arris slurs, "I ain't too big on the ones with magazines, nor the 'lazer' kinds. Not my type, truth be told." The gun is twirled before it gets pouched in leather once more, the shark's right hand extending after to take Kamryn's. "You both can call me Martina. As for the mayor... well, she don't like bein' called mayor, but her name's Gillian. You have urgent business with her or somethin'? She should be rolling in after a couple of minutes, since..." Martina checks her wrist, pulling up the sleeve around a suprrisingly intact watch. "... it's high noon now, so she should be coming anytime soon. Why don't you folk rest yourselves with a lager inside?" Unleaning from the wall, she walks over and pulls open the once-automatic glass sliding door."</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Outside the medical tent, Zephyr workers come and go, but for now, it seems there aren't any immediate emergencies.</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle is caught in a loop and is on standby until the counter that represents the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff within the medical tent. The robot is stuck in "Standby Mode", staring at the opening of the tent and the people inside.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard gives a quick once-over of Kamryn's laser. He cringes. "Ooh. You're not gonna want to see how far I put function over form for my RASER rifle." ...Did he slur that? "Looks like modern art made out of the inside of a microwave." He holsters his pistol and shakes Martina's hand simultaneously. "Pleasure to meet you, miss. We were told she's the one to look for if we want to find something to help with. You're a close second, by the looks of it." He slides along behind her as she moves to enter the gas station, but looks back to see that the synthetic and tentacled member of the crew seems... stuck. "Uh, be right along with you. I've got someone to attend to." Shotgun hanging limply at his side, held at its balance point in the middle rather than either of the grips, he approaches the befuddled 'bot. "C'mon, we'll find something else to do. Follow me," he says, waving for her to come along back to the meeting that's due to begin.</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> "A drink does sound pretty good if we've got a little time" Kamryn says, following the roboshark towards the door. "So, what's this Gillian like? Friendly and charismatic sort of leader or...". She briefly glances over to Tim. "...not?"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">The inside of the saloon proves homely; had it not been for the cooler doors, fluorescent lights, and the front-register-turned-bar, it might have fooled anyone who lacked knowledge of the old west into thinking that it was an actual saloon. Some construction workers -- identifiable by their hard hats and logo-emblazened jumpsuits -- have congregated around a table, playing a game of hold 'em poker. The bar isn't attended at the present, unless one counts the pigeon nesting at the edge of the bar, or the lady sitting in front of it near said bird. | ||
| − | "Ma's a good leader. She ain't the type of person to sit on a throne and let everyone do things for her." Martina's the last one to enter the saloon, waiting for Isabelle and Richard to enter first. "Most folk around here hold 'er in strong regards. Why do you ask?"</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle is stuck in "Standby Mode" as the robot is stuck in a practical infinite loop, defined by the last doctor with the break out parameter where the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff. </div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard waits for the robot to respond. She doesn't. He frowns. Never did get a chance to go to London, but this is probably what the guards there were like. Now it's probably... some kind of corgi orgy. The less said about that thought process, the better. With a sigh, he slings the shotgun over his shoulder. "Come on. Don't make me turn you on and off again." The less said about the next thought process, the better. "Or I could just turn you on," He says, glancing down to one of her oversized breasts. Pulling out a bottle of ice-cold Power Gator sports drink, he presses it against her almost bottle-sized nipples. If this doesn't get a reaction, he's giving up.</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> "Oh no reason in particular" Kamryn says conversationally, "just looking to get to know people out here". She takes a seat at the bar, nodding a subtle greeting to the other patrons as she wonders where Richard and Isabelle have got to, before realising something. "You called her 'Ma' - so the mayor's your mother?" she says to the shark. Grinning, she adds "It's always good to made friends with those who have connections. So, what do you recommend here? Anything in particular, or anything you've got out here we don't have back in Fairhaven?"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Martina gives Richard an uncertain glare before walking into the saloon. "That's not how y'all Californians treat all ladyfolk around here, right?" Her voice is hushed a little and directed to Kamryn as she takes a seat, the shark stepping behind the bar to tap out two frothy pints of beer. "And, yup, the mayor's my mum. Most tend to act surprised when they learn it, dunno why though." One of the glasses is slid towards Kamryn, while the other partially disappears behind Martina's lips.</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle turns to Richard and says, "Generic Greeting: Welcome End User. Query: Do you identify as PATIENT or MEDICAL STAFF? Current Mission: Remain on STANDBY until counter_PATIENT is greater than counter_MEDSTAFF.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Not the expected reaction, but A reaction. Progress! Richard didn't hear Martina's protests, so he'll deal with that later. "Oh. Logic error," Richard says, his tongue flicking as he takes that in. Let's see, he's not a doctor, so... "...I am a patient. My name is Richard." That's one... Uh... Shapeshift and hope she buys it? "I am another patient. My name is Rachel." Two. Again. "I am another patient. My name is Roger." Three. Another form. "I am another patient. My name is Susan." Again. And again and again and again. He ends up as his formerly snaky self at the end of it. "I... whew... all of us require ongoing treatment for exhaustion. Please stay with me- US as we go about our business."</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> Kamryn accepts the beer, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Not only the mayor's daughter but the local barkeep too - you must certainly be popular". In reference to Martina's comment, she adds "I guess it's always interesting to meet people with power, there aren't all that many about these days". She takes a swig of her drink, looking pleasantly surprised at the taste. "Now that's definitely refreshing on a day like this. How much do I owe you?". Before Martina can reply though, Kamryn's comm chirps as she receives a call. She looks at the screen to see who's calling then looks back up to the shark woman. "Oh, sorry, I'm going to have to get this - work stuff. Hopefully it won't take long". With that, she gets up and steps off to a quiet and empty corner of the saloon to attend to the call in private.</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">As the snep leaves, Martina raises her hand to touch the brim of her hat. "You do you, pretty lady." As she departs, the shark turns to the cat lady sitting at the end of the bar; "Need me to refill that, Rosa?"</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle walks with the collective patients/Richards. "Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Richard? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Rachel? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Roger? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Susan? Query: What is the..." The robot continues down the array of patients to fill in their stats and medical issues.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard leads the rused robot back into the bar/gas station/saloon and takes a seat right in front of Martina. Metaphorically. It's more like he coils up on top of himself. "Horribly, horribly sorry about that, ma'am," he says to the shark sheriff. "She was absolutely, stock-still locked up out there. Had to do something." He wearily unslings his shotgun and puts it on the bar, handle towards her. "Here. I was meaning to give this to you," he announces, his tone becoming a bit less tired, "Courtesy of Alice's gun shop in Fairhaven. She's got good suppliers and a great selection of six-shooters. Do you have a pen I can borrow?" Assuming she does, he scribbles out directions on a napkin, and an oddly specific instruction to call Alice a 'chubby bunny' if she doesn't open up shop. "Anyway, is Gillian here?"</div><br> <br><div title="Bleu">Right about then a handsome fox boy wanders in through the front door. He looks like a tourist, and he's carrying three bags of tchotchkes and soveniers. "Rich, Duuuuuude. There's this guy out there that set up a table by the side of the road, selling ALL KINDS of cool trinkets. Look at this adorable chihuahua bobble head! And this "Soccer Moms From Arizona Are Easy" keychain! Isn't it just adorable!"</div> | + | "Ma's a good leader. She ain't the type of person to sit on a throne and let everyone do things for her." Martina's the last one to enter the saloon, waiting for Isabelle and Richard to enter first. "Most folk around here hold 'er in strong regards. Why do you ask?"</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle is stuck in "Standby Mode" as the robot is stuck in a practical infinite loop, defined by the last doctor with the break out parameter where the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff. </div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard waits for the robot to respond. She doesn't. He frowns. Never did get a chance to go to London, but this is probably what the guards there were like. Now it's probably... some kind of corgi orgy. The less said about that thought process, the better. With a sigh, he slings the shotgun over his shoulder. "Come on. Don't make me turn you on and off again." The less said about the next thought process, the better. "Or I could just turn you on," He says, glancing down to one of her oversized breasts. Pulling out a bottle of ice-cold Power Gator sports drink, he presses it against her almost bottle-sized nipples. If this doesn't get a reaction, he's giving up.</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> "Oh no reason in particular" Kamryn says conversationally, "just looking to get to know people out here". She takes a seat at the bar, nodding a subtle greeting to the other patrons as she wonders where Richard and Isabelle have got to, before realising something. "You called her 'Ma' - so the mayor's your mother?" she says to the shark. Grinning, she adds "It's always good to made friends with those who have connections. So, what do you recommend here? Anything in particular, or anything you've got out here we don't have back in Fairhaven?"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Martina gives Richard an uncertain glare before walking into the saloon. "That's not how y'all Californians treat all ladyfolk around here, right?" Her voice is hushed a little and directed to Kamryn as she takes a seat, the shark stepping behind the bar to tap out two frothy pints of beer. "And, yup, the mayor's my mum. Most tend to act surprised when they learn it, dunno why though." One of the glasses is slid towards Kamryn, while the other partially disappears behind Martina's lips.</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle turns to Richard and says, "Generic Greeting: Welcome End User. Query: Do you identify as PATIENT or MEDICAL STAFF? Current Mission: Remain on STANDBY until counter_PATIENT is greater than counter_MEDSTAFF.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Not the expected reaction, but A reaction. Progress! Richard didn't hear Martina's protests, so he'll deal with that later. "Oh. Logic error," Richard says, his tongue flicking as he takes that in. Let's see, he's not a doctor, so... "...I am a patient. My name is Richard." That's one... Uh... Shapeshift and hope she buys it? "I am another patient. My name is Rachel." Two. Again. "I am another patient. My name is Roger." Three. Another form. "I am another patient. My name is Susan." Again. And again and again and again. He ends up as his formerly snaky self at the end of it. "I... whew... all of us require ongoing treatment for exhaustion. Please stay with me- US as we go about our business."</div><br> <br><div title="Kamryn"> Kamryn accepts the beer, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Not only the mayor's daughter but the local barkeep too - you must certainly be popular". In reference to Martina's comment, she adds "I guess it's always interesting to meet people with power, there aren't all that many about these days". She takes a swig of her drink, looking pleasantly surprised at the taste. "Now that's definitely refreshing on a day like this. How much do I owe you?". Before Martina can reply though, Kamryn's comm chirps as she receives a call. She looks at the screen to see who's calling then looks back up to the shark woman. "Oh, sorry, I'm going to have to get this - work stuff. Hopefully it won't take long". With that, she gets up and steps off to a quiet and empty corner of the saloon to attend to the call in private.</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">As the snep leaves, Martina raises her hand to touch the brim of her hat. "You do you, pretty lady." As she departs, the shark turns to the cat lady sitting at the end of the bar; "Need me to refill that, Rosa?"</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle walks with the collective patients/Richards. "Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Richard? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Rachel? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Roger? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Susan? Query: What is the..." The robot continues down the array of patients to fill in their stats and medical issues.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard leads the rused robot back into the bar/gas station/saloon and takes a seat right in front of Martina. Metaphorically. It's more like he coils up on top of himself. "Horribly, horribly sorry about that, ma'am," he says to the shark sheriff. "She was absolutely, stock-still locked up out there. Had to do something." He wearily unslings his shotgun and puts it on the bar, handle towards her. "Here. I was meaning to give this to you," he announces, his tone becoming a bit less tired, "Courtesy of Alice's gun shop in Fairhaven. She's got good suppliers and a great selection of six-shooters. Do you have a pen I can borrow?" Assuming she does, he scribbles out directions on a napkin, and an oddly specific instruction to call Alice a 'chubby bunny' if she doesn't open up shop. "Anyway, is Gillian here?"</div><br> <br><div title="Bleu">Right about then a handsome fox boy wanders in through the front door. He looks like a tourist, and he's carrying three bags of tchotchkes and soveniers. "Rich, Duuuuuude. There's this guy out there that set up a table by the side of the road, selling ALL KINDS of cool trinkets. Look at this adorable chihuahua bobble head! And this "Soccer Moms From Arizona Are Easy" keychain! Isn't it just adorable!"</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">At the mention of guns, Martina easily fishes out a marker for Richard to write with and watches him scribble down a list of directions to follow... and, right in the middle of it, the fox boy enters, announcing the presence of useless souvenir trinkets. Her attention becomes divided thusly, and once it looked like Richard was finished, Martina is perhaps overeager to pick up the paper. "OkaythankyouforthedirectionsIgottagothey'resellingsouvenirsBYE!!" And with that, she's out. Does the vendor accept physical money instead of freecred, even?</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">"Oh, that Martina." The feline sitting at the end of the bar chuckles lightly, covering her mouth with the hand not holding her drink. "Gillian should be dropping by soon. If it's urgent, you could probably ride on out to meet her." After a short swig of her drink, she adjusts her seating lightly. "Did you need something, mister..?"</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle walks into the saloon with the Richards leading. "All PATIENTS operating within normal parameters. Was there another emergency you wish to address?" The robot stands still and off to the side of the room to patiently await orders.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">Richard literally bends over backwards at the bar (as snakes do) before twisting around and righting himself. "Huh? Oh, hi Bleu. I-" Martina practically vaults the bar in the middle of that, completely breaking his train of thought. "Well, consider the local economy stimulated. Uh..." What can the robot do that keeps her occupied and nearby? "You can... help keep this establishment sanitary? Clean some glasses? I don't know, ask someone who works here." He leans back against the bar and tastes the air for a moment before the cat addresses him. "Mr. Stanley. Call me Richard. Whatever your favorite decaf soft drink is." He slides the gun towards her. "Martina ran out before she even took this. I think I'll stay and wait so I don't miss the Mayor, myself. Would you please put this away for her somewhere, miss...?"</div><br> <br><div title="Bleu">Bleu makes his way toward his snakey lover, showing off his aforementioned keychain and bobblehead. "I was wandering where you'd got to, Sexy. Leave it to you to find the booze, huh?" The fox's bushy tail wags a little, and he grins, then addresses whomever may be manning the bar, "Gimme a Sasparilla, please..."</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">Arris slurs, "Rosa." A lock of the feline's curly hair is thrown over her shoulder. "And, while we're introducing ourselves, Richard, why don't you say hi to the Zephyr folks too, Julian?" A pause follows; with one arm, she nudges the pigeon standing on the countertop, and with the other, places the gun proffered by Richard behind the bar. "No relation to Gillian, besides nationality." %r %rShe chuckles, but the bird doesn't find it funny. "I think I would prefer if you didn't try to rope me in on all these greetings." Said nationality becomes clear; Julian's voice is very strongly accented with a northern Italian tone. "I'm dead tired and don't want to do anything, having to run all the way from the farms to here. When are those Zephyr guys gonna install the permanent bubble? I'm sick with anticipation for it!" %r %rWhile the bird is fuming to himself about his lack of flight, Rosa gestures to the cooler at the back of the bar. "Help yourself, there's at least one bottle of Sarsaparilla back there. I'll keep your tab while Gillian's out.""</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">"Rosa." A lock of the feline's curly hair is thrown over her shoulder. "And, while we're introducing ourselves, Richard, why don't you say hi to the Zephyr folks too, Julian?" A pause follows; with one arm, she nudges the pigeon standing on the countertop, and with the other, places the gun proffered by Richard behind the bar. "No relation to Gillian, besides nationality." |
| + | |||
| + | She chuckles, but the bird doesn't find it funny. "I think I would prefer if you didn't try to rope me in on all these greetings." Said nationality becomes clear; Julian's voice is very strongly accented with a northern Italian tone. "I'm dead tired and don't want to do anything, having to run all the way from the farms to here. When are those Zephyr guys gonna install the permanent bubble? I'm sick with anticipation for it!" | ||
| + | |||
| + | While the bird is fuming to himself about his lack of flight, Rosa gestures to the cooler at the back of the bar. "Help yourself, there's at least one bottle of Sarsaparilla back there. I'll keep your tab while Gillian's out.""</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle walks behind the bar and picks up the bottle of Sarsaparilla. "Mode: Bartender. THERE. YOU. GO. PARTNER. I. HAVEN'T. SEEN. YOU. IN. THESE. NECK. OF. THE. WOODS." The robot proceeds to grab a nearby dishrag and starts wiping down the serving area.</div><br> <br><div title="Richard">"Hey, I'm ordering non-alcoholic," Richard clarifies to his lover. "And I was told this is where I'm supposed to be. Bar-bot, two sasparillas, please." Returning his attention to the locals, he says, "Glad to meet both of y-" That's an accent Richard doesn't hear often. A bit of spaghetti just got injected into this western, and it's severely distracting him from Rosa the saloon girl. Even more distracting is that it's coming from a seemingly bestial pigeon. "Good grief, I hope it's soon. You're not stuck as that, are you?" He spins himself back towards the bar, bracing each of his arms on it as soon as he can reach. "I've got nanite vials on me. You can have them if you need them."</div><br> <br><div title="Bleu">Bleu blinks at Isabelle. Okay, when did this turn into West World? Is the Gunman going to start chasing him down now? He makes his way toward Richard, and tilts his head. "Why are you avoiding liquor? You know I am because of the baby..."</div><br> <br><div title="Arris">"Sadly, no." Julian starts preening himself for a moment. "When I checked in with the Zephyr doctors, they diagnosed me with something called 'ultimate infection resistance', as nonsenical a name that is." The green plumage of his feathers look to threaten to boil red again. "I'm already infected, though! It makes no sense! How can I be resistant to infection if I'm already infected!?" It almost looks like steam's threatening to shoot out of his ears. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Rosa has her head turned away. "Yes, yes, it's very unfortunate..." She's putting on a good show of making it seem like she's not about to burst into tears laughing, but only on her voice.</div><br> <br><div title="Isabelle">Isabelle fetches two more sasparillas and says, "THERE. YOU. GO. PARTNER. WHAT. BRINGS. YOU. HERE. MISTER." The robot robotically leans against the bar and initializes the "Small Talk" subroutine.</div> | ||
Revision as of 14:37, 25 March 2020
Participants
Date
25/3/2020
Log
The day is hot for a spring day in California, but for a spring day in Arizona, it's mild; the sun bears down on the agents as the back of the tarp-covered transport is opened to fresh air. Visible from the back of the truck is the similarly covered vehicle, from which a Promethean-jumpsuited orca lowers a ramp and allows horses to climb off its back.
The agents don't recieve much time before they're greeted by a man dressed in a smart casual shirt and pants; from his robotic helmet and the metallic gloves, he's identifiable as Tim -- the Zephyr official that the agents would expect to see at the settlement. "Alright, folks, up an at 'em." With one hand, he gestures for everyone to step off the transport, fingering at something on his hip with the other. "Just as a reminder, we're giving you some time to acclimate to the area and meet some of the folks you might be seeing regularly around here in the future. If any of you haave any questions, ask 'em now, before I go off shift." Something gets muttered under his breath, difficult to hear from a distance.
Isabelle looks at the Zephyr official. "Classification: Zephyr Official Identity: Tim Purpose: Query Receiver". The small Giant Robot scan's the area for points of interest and resources.
One of the agents disembarking the truck is clad in a hood and traveling leathers. He removes the hood to reveal... another hood! A cobra hood, specifically. He flicks his tongue and looks about curiously as he slithers off of the truck. Unlike some snake-morphs, he has four limbs. All four of those limbs are arms. "All right," he says to Tim, wringing both pairs of his hands together, "What's the basic lay of the land here? Any specific people or places to look for?"
A shiny looking snow leopard steps off the truck next, made a little more shiny than usual by a small amount of sweat from the heat. Stepping out into the sunshine she wipes her brow and pulls a pair of sunglasses out of her bag to put then on, wondering how practical it would be to add a cooling bodysuit under her armour. "Greetings" she says to the Zephyr contact waiting for them, remaining polite despite having overheard his muttering. She nods in agreement with the cobra. "Yeah, any medical personnel in particular that I can liase with"
Tim seems to ignore Isabelle's scan, besides an unimpressed quirk of one of his LED display eyebrows. "Besides the setup we have right now? Dust, dirt, gravel, and sand, all directions. I hear cactus number 1513 is a lovely tourist attraction." As Tim speaks, one hand reaches for the steel on his hip, drawing it, and lifting its nozzle to his mouthpiece for a long swig. How's he drinking through that flask through the fabric? "People, on the other hand, I bet you'd want to meet up with the settlement's current leader. She might be in the saloon, but it's not well-populated right now, so her and most of her folk must have gone out to the farms north of here." Having answered what he'd consider the most relevant question so far, he then turns to Kamryn. "As for medical personnel, they're all on duty. You're free to take a shift if you want, but don't bug them." Raising his free hand, he points in the direction of a small medical tent with a red cross painted onto its green surface.
Taking a look around, the settlement of New Hope has been bordered by concrete walls, currently unfinished. Zephyr construction workers are working left, right, and centre, seeking to set up multiple wood-and-brick buildings, the current purpose of which is unclear. At the centre of the town is what appears to be a pre-P-Day building, once a gas station stop, its roofed pumps now used as a horse corral. Beyond the shaded resting spot, a duster-coated figure stands, coattails riding the wind -- and hat threatening to do so as well, until their hand reaches up to secure it down.
Isabelle waits passively until Tim finishes speaking. "Input received. Processing... Mission: Repair Carbon-Based Lifeforms." Isabelle proceeds to the medical tent in a robotic fashion.
Richard snakily snarks, "1513 is overrated. The spinesss on 1438 are way better." With his hands on his 'hips' and his other set of arms crossed, he takes a look around. "No wonder they wanted volunteers. There's jack shit out here, and Jack might not be in today." He points to the two... make that one agent still alongside him and says, "I'm going to go try tracking down whoever's in charge here. I'll try and meet you at the medical tent as soon as I find them... get yourself inside, that mutation isn't made for heat like this." He silently hopes that the normal-sized Giant Robot isn't going to go Asimov on somebody, and turns back to Tim. "That isn't her over there by the gas station, is it?"
Watching the robot head for the medical tent Kamryn remarks "Well since our companion seems to have medical matters in hand for the time being, I think the saloon sounds like a good place to start. See if the boss of this place is around before we head further out". She reaches out to put her hand on one of the snake man's shoulders, pausing briefly then adding "Don't worry - I'm sturdier than I look - this isn't exactly my favourite weather but I brought plenty of water, and it's just making me a little more flexible right now. What do you say? Want to stick together, or explore on your own?". She glances over at the appropriately western-attired figure as the other agent draws attention to him, also curious about who they are.
As the agents looked like they were going off to do their own things, Tim turns away as if to handle his own business as well -- at which point, he stops on the spot and gives Richard a look that suggested he was starting to get impatient. "No. A green lizard. This tall." He gestures vaguely under his chest for a height about four feet off the ground. "If you really need to meet her, her and the other folks will be here for a lunch break, coming up soon."
Within the medical tent, shielded from the sun on all sides with the green tarp, the doctors in question seem to be idle, at best giving Isabelle a curious stare. And then suddenly, shouting, scrambling, and instructions for the robot to "get out of the way"; one of the doctors coming in from outside was leading a worker with a bad burn on is hand into the tent. Judging from his welder's mask, it's easy to piece together what accident happened.
Isabelle moves to the side and enters scan mode. "Analysis: Carbon exterior heated beyond recommended safety limit leading to charred exterior. Referred to as "Third Degree Burn". Query: Is this unit priority one in the triage queue?" Proceeds to move towards man to initiate repairs.
Richard looks mildly startled by the touch on his shoulder, giving the latex leopardess an odd look. Huh. Didn't notice that collar earlier. "You know Kar, huh? Might as well stick togethe-" Someone rushes an injured person to the medical tent right before he finishes that sentence, with a reasonable amount of ruckus accompanying them. "Actually, I'll let you make that call." With Tim at the end of his Zephyr-funded patience, Richard decides to join that mysterious stranger in their shady spot and keep an eye out for this little lizard. Keeping a decent distance from the dudette in the duster, he asks them, "You from around these parts?"
"Yeah, Kar and I have been mates for quite a while now. Clearly I still haven't met everyone he's involved with though" Kamryn says with a grin just before the burnt welder arrives. Quickly jogging over to the medical tent, she stops on seeing the number of staff just standing around waiting to treat him. Between that and being able to tell even from a distance that it was an easily treatable burn, she nodded to herself, heading back outside since she's not needed and heading over to rejoin Richard and the stranger, waiting for their response to his greeting.
The medical staff on hand are ignorant of Isabelle's astute observation, and her general presence for the most part until she occupies the space near the stretcher that the patient was being laid out on. "Hey, Jerry, can you get the isopropyl for me?" "Sure, I -- hey, can you please get out of the way?" This doctor -- of vaguely canine appearance -- is starting to look a little peeved at the robot. "If you're trying to help out, come back when we have more patients than medical staff. Right now, our 'patients' is running thin with you."
The stranger lifts her head -- at close up, Richard can tell that she was female, though with a bulkier shape than might be expected -- and eyes Richard. "I've been livin' in these parts longer than any y'all have been. And I gotta tell ya..." Her eyes squint a little tighter as her head tilts to the side. "I ain't so sure about you folk making this town less wild than it already is."
A tense, perhaps overly-dramatic pause ensues. "...but it's alright! All the folks come here for safety, anyhow. And I got a cool new custom gun made for me!" Any sense of tension drops like it's been cut to pieces as the mecha shark excitedly -- but, slowly -- pulls out her revolver, holding it by the body instead of the grip. "See, lookit this! Custom made, with all these neat lil' details all over it." Those crosshair eyes of hers are starting to sparkle with enthusiasm.Isabelle processes the new information. "Order acknowledged. Going into "Standby Mode"." The robot walks five feet outside of the medical tent, turns to face the enterance, and stands still in "Standby Mode".
"You saw the truck I fell off of," Richard says, splitting the silence as the hand on his hip tenses, ready to draw. God, that'd be a heck of a way to go. This place has a nanite server, right? They said it did. "I'm on the dime of someone who wants the wildest thing about this place to be your world-famous cactus collection."
She draws slow and easy, with a friendly show-and-tell. "Fancy..." Richard says, nodding and slowly retrieving a couple from his own collection. A semi-auto pistol with a supressor, and a compact pump-action. "I'm more of a function over form sort just to cut down on the time I spend keeping them in good condition, but you're holding a piece of art. What's your name? And now that I think of it, what's the mayor's? Big Z didn't see fit to fill me in on that."
Kamryn glances back as the robotic medic returns, assuming the burn patient had been dealt with as necessary. The stranger's tone puts her on edge for a moment, until she reveals her enthusiasm and excitedly shows the pair her custom gun. Relaxing, she examines the pistol appreciatively. "Energy weapons are more my thing" she says, tapping the rifle slung over her shoulder, "but that does look like a decent bit of kit you have there". She extends a hand in greeting after Richard speaks, adding "I'm Kamryn. Nice place you've got here, if a little... spartan... at the moment"
Arris slurs, "I ain't too big on the ones with magazines, nor the 'lazer' kinds. Not my type, truth be told." The gun is twirled before it gets pouched in leather once more, the shark's right hand extending after to take Kamryn's. "You both can call me Martina. As for the mayor... well, she don't like bein' called mayor, but her name's Gillian. You have urgent business with her or somethin'? She should be rolling in after a couple of minutes, since..." Martina checks her wrist, pulling up the sleeve around a suprrisingly intact watch. "... it's high noon now, so she should be coming anytime soon. Why don't you folk rest yourselves with a lager inside?" Unleaning from the wall, she walks over and pulls open the once-automatic glass sliding door."
Outside the medical tent, Zephyr workers come and go, but for now, it seems there aren't any immediate emergencies.
Isabelle is caught in a loop and is on standby until the counter that represents the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff within the medical tent. The robot is stuck in "Standby Mode", staring at the opening of the tent and the people inside.
Richard gives a quick once-over of Kamryn's laser. He cringes. "Ooh. You're not gonna want to see how far I put function over form for my RASER rifle." ...Did he slur that? "Looks like modern art made out of the inside of a microwave." He holsters his pistol and shakes Martina's hand simultaneously. "Pleasure to meet you, miss. We were told she's the one to look for if we want to find something to help with. You're a close second, by the looks of it." He slides along behind her as she moves to enter the gas station, but looks back to see that the synthetic and tentacled member of the crew seems... stuck. "Uh, be right along with you. I've got someone to attend to." Shotgun hanging limply at his side, held at its balance point in the middle rather than either of the grips, he approaches the befuddled 'bot. "C'mon, we'll find something else to do. Follow me," he says, waving for her to come along back to the meeting that's due to begin.
"A drink does sound pretty good if we've got a little time" Kamryn says, following the roboshark towards the door. "So, what's this Gillian like? Friendly and charismatic sort of leader or...". She briefly glances over to Tim. "...not?"
The inside of the saloon proves homely; had it not been for the cooler doors, fluorescent lights, and the front-register-turned-bar, it might have fooled anyone who lacked knowledge of the old west into thinking that it was an actual saloon. Some construction workers -- identifiable by their hard hats and logo-emblazened jumpsuits -- have congregated around a table, playing a game of hold 'em poker. The bar isn't attended at the present, unless one counts the pigeon nesting at the edge of the bar, or the lady sitting in front of it near said bird.
"Ma's a good leader. She ain't the type of person to sit on a throne and let everyone do things for her." Martina's the last one to enter the saloon, waiting for Isabelle and Richard to enter first. "Most folk around here hold 'er in strong regards. Why do you ask?"
Isabelle is stuck in "Standby Mode" as the robot is stuck in a practical infinite loop, defined by the last doctor with the break out parameter where the number of patients is greater than the number of medical staff.
Richard waits for the robot to respond. She doesn't. He frowns. Never did get a chance to go to London, but this is probably what the guards there were like. Now it's probably... some kind of corgi orgy. The less said about that thought process, the better. With a sigh, he slings the shotgun over his shoulder. "Come on. Don't make me turn you on and off again." The less said about the next thought process, the better. "Or I could just turn you on," He says, glancing down to one of her oversized breasts. Pulling out a bottle of ice-cold Power Gator sports drink, he presses it against her almost bottle-sized nipples. If this doesn't get a reaction, he's giving up.
"Oh no reason in particular" Kamryn says conversationally, "just looking to get to know people out here". She takes a seat at the bar, nodding a subtle greeting to the other patrons as she wonders where Richard and Isabelle have got to, before realising something. "You called her 'Ma' - so the mayor's your mother?" she says to the shark. Grinning, she adds "It's always good to made friends with those who have connections. So, what do you recommend here? Anything in particular, or anything you've got out here we don't have back in Fairhaven?"
Martina gives Richard an uncertain glare before walking into the saloon. "That's not how y'all Californians treat all ladyfolk around here, right?" Her voice is hushed a little and directed to Kamryn as she takes a seat, the shark stepping behind the bar to tap out two frothy pints of beer. "And, yup, the mayor's my mum. Most tend to act surprised when they learn it, dunno why though." One of the glasses is slid towards Kamryn, while the other partially disappears behind Martina's lips.
Isabelle turns to Richard and says, "Generic Greeting: Welcome End User. Query: Do you identify as PATIENT or MEDICAL STAFF? Current Mission: Remain on STANDBY until counter_PATIENT is greater than counter_MEDSTAFF.
Not the expected reaction, but A reaction. Progress! Richard didn't hear Martina's protests, so he'll deal with that later. "Oh. Logic error," Richard says, his tongue flicking as he takes that in. Let's see, he's not a doctor, so... "...I am a patient. My name is Richard." That's one... Uh... Shapeshift and hope she buys it? "I am another patient. My name is Rachel." Two. Again. "I am another patient. My name is Roger." Three. Another form. "I am another patient. My name is Susan." Again. And again and again and again. He ends up as his formerly snaky self at the end of it. "I... whew... all of us require ongoing treatment for exhaustion. Please stay with me- US as we go about our business."
Kamryn accepts the beer, raising an eyebrow slightly. "Not only the mayor's daughter but the local barkeep too - you must certainly be popular". In reference to Martina's comment, she adds "I guess it's always interesting to meet people with power, there aren't all that many about these days". She takes a swig of her drink, looking pleasantly surprised at the taste. "Now that's definitely refreshing on a day like this. How much do I owe you?". Before Martina can reply though, Kamryn's comm chirps as she receives a call. She looks at the screen to see who's calling then looks back up to the shark woman. "Oh, sorry, I'm going to have to get this - work stuff. Hopefully it won't take long". With that, she gets up and steps off to a quiet and empty corner of the saloon to attend to the call in private.
As the snep leaves, Martina raises her hand to touch the brim of her hat. "You do you, pretty lady." As she departs, the shark turns to the cat lady sitting at the end of the bar; "Need me to refill that, Rosa?"
Isabelle walks with the collective patients/Richards. "Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Richard? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Rachel? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Roger? Query: What is the nature of the medical emergency PATIENT Susan? Query: What is the..." The robot continues down the array of patients to fill in their stats and medical issues.
Richard leads the rused robot back into the bar/gas station/saloon and takes a seat right in front of Martina. Metaphorically. It's more like he coils up on top of himself. "Horribly, horribly sorry about that, ma'am," he says to the shark sheriff. "She was absolutely, stock-still locked up out there. Had to do something." He wearily unslings his shotgun and puts it on the bar, handle towards her. "Here. I was meaning to give this to you," he announces, his tone becoming a bit less tired, "Courtesy of Alice's gun shop in Fairhaven. She's got good suppliers and a great selection of six-shooters. Do you have a pen I can borrow?" Assuming she does, he scribbles out directions on a napkin, and an oddly specific instruction to call Alice a 'chubby bunny' if she doesn't open up shop. "Anyway, is Gillian here?"
Right about then a handsome fox boy wanders in through the front door. He looks like a tourist, and he's carrying three bags of tchotchkes and soveniers. "Rich, Duuuuuude. There's this guy out there that set up a table by the side of the road, selling ALL KINDS of cool trinkets. Look at this adorable chihuahua bobble head! And this "Soccer Moms From Arizona Are Easy" keychain! Isn't it just adorable!"
At the mention of guns, Martina easily fishes out a marker for Richard to write with and watches him scribble down a list of directions to follow... and, right in the middle of it, the fox boy enters, announcing the presence of useless souvenir trinkets. Her attention becomes divided thusly, and once it looked like Richard was finished, Martina is perhaps overeager to pick up the paper. "OkaythankyouforthedirectionsIgottagothey'resellingsouvenirsBYE!!" And with that, she's out. Does the vendor accept physical money instead of freecred, even?
"Oh, that Martina." The feline sitting at the end of the bar chuckles lightly, covering her mouth with the hand not holding her drink. "Gillian should be dropping by soon. If it's urgent, you could probably ride on out to meet her." After a short swig of her drink, she adjusts her seating lightly. "Did you need something, mister..?"
Isabelle walks into the saloon with the Richards leading. "All PATIENTS operating within normal parameters. Was there another emergency you wish to address?" The robot stands still and off to the side of the room to patiently await orders.
Richard literally bends over backwards at the bar (as snakes do) before twisting around and righting himself. "Huh? Oh, hi Bleu. I-" Martina practically vaults the bar in the middle of that, completely breaking his train of thought. "Well, consider the local economy stimulated. Uh..." What can the robot do that keeps her occupied and nearby? "You can... help keep this establishment sanitary? Clean some glasses? I don't know, ask someone who works here." He leans back against the bar and tastes the air for a moment before the cat addresses him. "Mr. Stanley. Call me Richard. Whatever your favorite decaf soft drink is." He slides the gun towards her. "Martina ran out before she even took this. I think I'll stay and wait so I don't miss the Mayor, myself. Would you please put this away for her somewhere, miss...?"
Bleu makes his way toward his snakey lover, showing off his aforementioned keychain and bobblehead. "I was wandering where you'd got to, Sexy. Leave it to you to find the booze, huh?" The fox's bushy tail wags a little, and he grins, then addresses whomever may be manning the bar, "Gimme a Sasparilla, please..."
Arris slurs, "Rosa." A lock of the feline's curly hair is thrown over her shoulder. "And, while we're introducing ourselves, Richard, why don't you say hi to the Zephyr folks too, Julian?" A pause follows; with one arm, she nudges the pigeon standing on the countertop, and with the other, places the gun proffered by Richard behind the bar. "No relation to Gillian, besides nationality." %r %rShe chuckles, but the bird doesn't find it funny. "I think I would prefer if you didn't try to rope me in on all these greetings." Said nationality becomes clear; Julian's voice is very strongly accented with a northern Italian tone. "I'm dead tired and don't want to do anything, having to run all the way from the farms to here. When are those Zephyr guys gonna install the permanent bubble? I'm sick with anticipation for it!" %r %rWhile the bird is fuming to himself about his lack of flight, Rosa gestures to the cooler at the back of the bar. "Help yourself, there's at least one bottle of Sarsaparilla back there. I'll keep your tab while Gillian's out.""
"Rosa." A lock of the feline's curly hair is thrown over her shoulder. "And, while we're introducing ourselves, Richard, why don't you say hi to the Zephyr folks too, Julian?" A pause follows; with one arm, she nudges the pigeon standing on the countertop, and with the other, places the gun proffered by Richard behind the bar. "No relation to Gillian, besides nationality."
She chuckles, but the bird doesn't find it funny. "I think I would prefer if you didn't try to rope me in on all these greetings." Said nationality becomes clear; Julian's voice is very strongly accented with a northern Italian tone. "I'm dead tired and don't want to do anything, having to run all the way from the farms to here. When are those Zephyr guys gonna install the permanent bubble? I'm sick with anticipation for it!"
While the bird is fuming to himself about his lack of flight, Rosa gestures to the cooler at the back of the bar. "Help yourself, there's at least one bottle of Sarsaparilla back there. I'll keep your tab while Gillian's out.""Isabelle walks behind the bar and picks up the bottle of Sarsaparilla. "Mode: Bartender. THERE. YOU. GO. PARTNER. I. HAVEN'T. SEEN. YOU. IN. THESE. NECK. OF. THE. WOODS." The robot proceeds to grab a nearby dishrag and starts wiping down the serving area.
"Hey, I'm ordering non-alcoholic," Richard clarifies to his lover. "And I was told this is where I'm supposed to be. Bar-bot, two sasparillas, please." Returning his attention to the locals, he says, "Glad to meet both of y-" That's an accent Richard doesn't hear often. A bit of spaghetti just got injected into this western, and it's severely distracting him from Rosa the saloon girl. Even more distracting is that it's coming from a seemingly bestial pigeon. "Good grief, I hope it's soon. You're not stuck as that, are you?" He spins himself back towards the bar, bracing each of his arms on it as soon as he can reach. "I've got nanite vials on me. You can have them if you need them."
Bleu blinks at Isabelle. Okay, when did this turn into West World? Is the Gunman going to start chasing him down now? He makes his way toward Richard, and tilts his head. "Why are you avoiding liquor? You know I am because of the baby..."
"Sadly, no." Julian starts preening himself for a moment. "When I checked in with the Zephyr doctors, they diagnosed me with something called 'ultimate infection resistance', as nonsenical a name that is." The green plumage of his feathers look to threaten to boil red again. "I'm already infected, though! It makes no sense! How can I be resistant to infection if I'm already infected!?" It almost looks like steam's threatening to shoot out of his ears.
Rosa has her head turned away. "Yes, yes, it's very unfortunate..." She's putting on a good show of making it seem like she's not about to burst into tears laughing, but only on her voice.
Isabelle fetches two more sasparillas and says, "THERE. YOU. GO. PARTNER. WHAT. BRINGS. YOU. HERE. MISTER." The robot robotically leans against the bar and initializes the "Small Talk" subroutine.
