Underworld Armorer - Part 2 - RPLOG

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- It is apparent at first glance that this used to be a small-time bar before P-day, a stage set up at one end of the main room where hipster bands would play two-bit songs. Now however, this place has a much more lively group. The small-time bar is still just as much, but the stage has been set up to auction off any number of illegal and valuable things such as firearms, drugs, and even the occasional slave. The small crowd watching and bidding on the goods vary in size, form, and even shamelessness, one even getting a blowjob as he is bidding on a set of leashes and collars currently on stage. As the group enters, a storm dragon wearing boxing trunks aproaches. He turns to Emacs and says "Is there anything I can do to help you?"

- What a foul and disgusting den of thievery, the very filth beneath Otto's boots felt as though it had greater value than the collective of souls haunting this place. It wreaked to high haven of trouble, and the jackal knew he was very much out of place being here. T'was not fear that welled within him, but rather a feverish urge to see it burned to the ground, cleansed of whatever evil went on here. Otto kept his hand on his firearm, his expression neutral, and his senses sharp. For now, he said nothing, but merely observed, listened, waited for an opening he was unlikely to get. His eyes scan the surroundings, looking to determine just how much of an opposition they'd face if things went down south.

- There was a quiet breath that fell from Mokou as she paced back into that little bar. Her eyes scoured every inch of the room, high ceiling and low boards. The bar caught her eye, a patron tossing a sly wink her way as her gaze lingered... Before the fennec snapped back to attention. As much from her own will as the nip to her leg, Felix snipping at her. "Th-thanks... Got it..." She murmured back down, looking for... Ah. Him. The storm dragon that neared, her ears slowly fell back from her scalp, simply trying to shrink back at their prescense. Not to her they spoke, but to Emacs... No harm there... No harm there.
Slinking back to the side, she looked to the room at large, spying those items aboard that stage and quietly swallowing. A deeper breath... a heavier sigh... and she nodded back. Not to the Storm Dragon, but to Emacs specifically. "Little John," she whispered not above a breath. The name the rat had given... The seller of the... of what they needed. A little reminder if nothing more. If they thought he would lead... they'd be her guest in that regard.

- Pelle flutters after the group looking around the room they are in and nods to the doorman when emacs tells them who they are looking for.

- Oh boy sex slaves. Good thing Nekura got rid of her peen or she might be trying them out to see if she wants one. Instead the pon turns to regard the drake when he comes to the group and makes a :| face at him just like she gave Terra earlier.

- The storm dragon directs the group to Little John before returning to the front door. Little John appears to be a highway mouse shorter than average sitting at a side table. He looks like someone who dresses fancy because he can afford it, but doesn't actually take care of what he owns. He just needs one look at the group to know exactly why they are there. "What are you looking for and how much are you going to pay for it?"

- Otto clenches his fists. Was this the asshole in charge? Would unloading a clip in his face put an end to this horror? He couldn't know. Otto knew nothing of how the criminal underground worked, and were he alone, he'd likely have already caused trouble.
But this was not the case, was it? Contractually bound by his Zephyrian benefactors, the jackal knew all too well what would happen if he acts out. It burned, it burned so badly that he had to look at that smug rat in a tux and play his game, but he didn't appear to have many options.
The urge to step up and state that they needed 'red toys' struck, but his glance wanders over to Mokou. She seemed to know what she was doing a lot better than he did, and quite frankly Otto didn't trust his own temper. So, he leans against the nearest object and watches, listens...
His paws swipe past the bandoleer on his chest, and then move into his pockets. There, his fingers fiddled with the pins of two grenades. So tempting... but they had business to do first.

- Emacs does her best to smile. She knows him by a vague reputation, garnered two removed from anyone who met him.
She recognizes the jaundice in his outlook, a broken thing that makes the world appear to boil down to numbers that represent currency, which boils down to numbers again.
She believes in the fundamental nature of numbers, but she does not believe that they represent currency.
"For a 'red toy', would 65000 creds a piece be sufficient?"

- Pelle stays quiet watching over wat is happening for a bit before beginning to look at the room having a price in mind but will let emacs do the taking for now.

- Little John is taken aback at Emac's offer, looking like he was put in an uncomfortable spot. "S-sure. That works. How many of the red toys do you n-need?" When answered, he pulls out a notepad, writes down what looks like a random assortment of symbols and words, and holds out both hands: one with the note, and the other with his open hand. "Here is the receit. Just hand over 195,000 freecred."

- Otto had slinked off for a moment there, though he's back before anyone has noticed his absence. He keeps a straight face and watches the remainder of the negotiations, his paws held loose to his sides, he simply observes, quiet... as though waiting for something.

- Emacs smoothly says, "A pleasure doing business with you." A second later she looks bashful, "Whoops. How could I forget" and hands him the money.

- With receit now in hand, and Little John behind them, the group can leave the Auction house and return to Terra. He must have taken Mokou's offered pills from last time, because he is fully male now. "So you have my toys? Give it here!" He takes the receit when offered to him, smiling gratefully. "The armor plates are in the posession of an ex-military convoy currently staying in Paradise, an abandoned town with no bubble northeast of here. They plan to sell the plates they made at an old tank factory in return for food and other supplies. Here is the old-world address." He pulls out his own notepad and writes it down, handing it to the group.

- Making sure that everyone else leaves the building before he does, and makes it away from the structure, Otto's thumb twitches involuntarily as he makes his way along with the group towards the rat they were after. The jackal dots down the information and nods in acknowledgment. Fearing they were still too close to the auction house, he simply clasps his paws and says "Excellent. Thank you for the information." he states with a firm and calm tone. Tucking his paws into his pockets, the jackal then barely, BARELY manages to hide the grin on his face. His thumb slides over the button situated upon the remote he had stashed away in there, and presses down...

- Emacs leaves the building with her hands in her pockets. She walks along the pavement looking down at her feet. Gears whir in her head. It'd take a literal explosion to remove her from her thoughts.

- Pelle flutters after the group waving good bye to the rat man and says "have fun with your toys" when she gets a distance she know they will have no praying ears "well that was interesting, i just with we can do something about the auction house and stop a bit of crime and perhaps blow a few things up and get new things" she says thinking for a moment and she flutters after her group.

- The whole allyway shook, the Auction House blowing out behind them as an explosion tore out the inside. Terra is gone the moment someone turns to look at the collapsing building, and people are starting to gather or flee depending on whether they can afford to be seen there. The group however, now with the knowledge of where the armor panels are, leave to return to Zephyr and report.