Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    Where Everybody Knows Your Name

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    Shen Woo
    Shen Woo
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Shen Woo on Sat Jan 05, 2019 9:55 am

    Shen's darker half, now that was something of a horse of a different color, darker than his tanned skin, dark like the seedier aspects of his gang life. He was, after all, a gang-banger who had gotten into his fair share of gang-related trouble and had been to jail on more than a few occasions. Hell, he had a tattoo he didn't talk about from his time in jail.

    "Well bless them that you didn't end up like me." Shen rubbed his head with an awkward laugh. "And heck, you're a pretty good role model 'cause you had good role models, yanno? Wish I could say I'm a good role model but I'm not. Not unless someone wants to know how to punch things and how not to be afraid to wear pink and be manly as hell at the same time." It seemed like he was joking, or playing it off that he wasn't that great a guy. But maybe there was shades of truth. Shen knew he was kind of a bum. He was a thug, used to the thug life. Kind of lucky he didn't have that tattooed on his knuckles, but having broken one of his hands kind of delayed that.

    He gave an awkward frown. He was moreso worried that things might happen with the display, and of course that Lunette didn't end up accidentally feeling the burn. "Didn't know if you could trigger stuff like that. A guy back home with a lot of mechanical parts could so...ah...didn't hurt to remember to remind in case?" As for the way he had learned? Well, a lady who loved spicy foods and Shanghainese "sausage". That had been a hell of a pain. And that was probably part of the reason she was one of his exes, for that matter. "Good thing ya...ya can't get the response." He had a flustered blush. "I will just finish my unnecessary and awkward TEDtalk with that." Was that a joke? Yeah, now that was a joke from everyone's favorite dumb brawler, who had been on the receiving end of habanero hell. Man, Scaramouche was lucky, never having to have himself set on fire if Lunette had gone to town on some spicy foods.

    Shen gave his own cackle. "Maybe one day I'll be able to pony up for a sweet ride for someone. Even if it ain't a car." Who knew. Maybe a boat or a motorcycle even? Shen himself was fond of the simpler cars, like a classic Shanghainese car like the one he lived in, but there was also something special about motorcycles. He really and truly loved motorcycles. Nothing like the wind in your face and the bugs in your "grill".

    He gave a smirk and winked. "Maybe blondie-swirled brownies? Possibly snickerdoodle cookies? Definitely sachertorte at some point, 'cause who can resist a fancy French chocolate cake?"
    Scaramouche
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Scaramouche on Mon Jan 07, 2019 4:40 pm

    "Well bless them that you didn't end up like me. And heck, you're a pretty good role model 'cause you had good role models, yanno? Wish I could say I'm a good role model but I'm not. Not unless someone wants to know how to punch things and how not to be afraid to wear pink and be manly as hell at the same time."

    Mm~! The android merely smiled, letting his guest think of such lofty ideals all he wished. Oh, what to say and how much of it... This could easily be turned into a pissing contest (and Scaramouche did so love a good competition), but why dredge up the past, eh? Whether one was a street gangster or the Pied Piper of Ruination, it no longer mattered on Portal Breach, where anyone with a spine and some willpower could change their lifestyle if they truly desired (and cared). "Geewilikers, don't sound so fatalistic~!" A knowing chuckle escaped Scaramouche's throat as he crossed his silvery arms, one optic closed and that obnoxious grin still plastered on his metal face. "So ya got a few skele-boys in the closet..." he shrugged, fairly blasé, "I say, 'so what~?' Ya might not've been a good role model then, baby, but that ain't stoppin' ya from learnin' a few tricks now, are ya catchin' my drift? Punchin' things and wearin' pink when you're as yellow as a ripe banana on the inside ain't got nothin' to do with manliness. Overcomin' your design flaws and becomin' a better person for a more meaningful, quality kind of life, however? Hm~! Now that's a real turn-on, babe." And it was worth much more 'brownie' points in Scaramouche's book (not that it was important or anything...).

    He picked up a nearby trio of steak knives, bored, and lived up to his clownish namesake by juggling and balancing their sharpened points on his fingertips. Y'know, this kind of had Scaramouche in the mood to play darts~! "Tch, ya mean a cyborg?" he scoffed, allowing only a lil' hint of disgust to shine through. What is it with organics mistaking robots for cyborgs and vice-versa, and thinking they shared functions all across the board? It's like assuming a Ford Pinto could handle premium fuel the same way a Lamborghini did because they were both cars. AKA: wrong! "No way, baby~! I'm a robot, tried and true, and there ain't nothin' even remotely organic about me. Everythin' ya see here was made in a factory and assembled by other machines~!" As for the bombastic personality, well... That was trickier and a smidgen more intimate.

    Too intimate - like a flamin' wiener, oho~!

    "Hon hon~! I hear ya loud and clear, babu. Loooooud and clear," the android winked. Finished with the usual jester antics, he deftly caught the knives one-by-one and flipped them around his fingers before placing each into the cutlery drawer, returning his unwavering sights to Shen. Hm, did organics find it weird how robots didn't really, well, blink...? "For someone, huh~?" Scaramouche bit his tongue, the android's grin turning crooked at the corners. Urge to heckle about the spicy fellatio... rising! How apt~! But no, the robot saw the light and minded his manners, instead busying his mischievous hands by tugging down on the brim of his hat like in ye olden Spaghetti Westerns. "Sounds like a worthwhile goal, no doubt about it, babe! I can see ya with a motorcycle, the sun caught in your golden hair and your Canadian tuxedo flappin' loudly in the wind." A cyan optic twinkled from underneath the hat's shadow. "...That's kinda hot~!" He always did love a chiseled guy seated atop the ride of his life and owning the road, exposed to the elements and looking down right juicy. Showing a lil' skin was just the cherry on this meaty-man sundae! Though the android will settle for form-fitting leather pants, too.

    "Maybe blondie-swirled brownies? Possibly snickerdoodle cookies? Definitely sachertorte at some point, 'cause who can resist a fancy French chocolate cake?"

    Scaramouche leaned against the bar counter and sighed dreamily, the android's thoughts clearly split between the present and La-La Land. "...Me~!" he giggled, being a general nuisance. Hey! It's not like he could eat, let alone taste, so resisting organic edibles was as easy as one, two, thrEE~! Very disappointing, though... Desserts always looked so damn good! And smelled good, too. "Also, that's a fancy Viennese chocolate cake, babe. The French are better known for their crème brûlée~!" Scaramouche tossed in another playful wink, this one saddled with a layer of smugness. A perk of being connected to internet search engines 24/7. "Anyway, start with the snickerdoodles if you're uncertain! They're easier, ya can make boatloads in a relatively short amount of time, pair absolutely fantastic with a glass of ice-cold milk, and who doesn't love a good cookie every now and then, eh~? ...Besides folks like me, of course."

    Sob! Trapped working in a kitchen and making all sorts of mouthwatering goodies but can't taste a single morsel! This must be what Hell is like, AHHH!!
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Shen Woo on Mon Jan 07, 2019 9:29 pm

    Shen himself rubbed his head awkwardly. "Well then that's just a habit I'll have to break--the whole sounding fatalistic thing I mean." The truth was that if he wasn't fatalistic on the streets, he probably would have been dead long ago, and wouldn't have made it to the age of thirty-one at all. "So, um...learning to be more than a thug, in other words. More than just some street punk, eh?" He seemed to be catching the drift a little. It was tough when most of his life had been difficult, and he slowly wanted to work his way toward being a better person.

    He rubbed his hands nervously. "I suppose. I don't know if he really has any human parts or not. Or if it's just synthetic skin or something. You know?" Maxima was indeed a cyborg, but Shen wasn't a hundred percent on it. Now, if he had been a hundred percent, he wouldn't be making so much in the way of assumptions and making an ass out of he and Scaramouche at once. "Sorry for the mixup in any case." He then winked and smirked. "So, you might say you were a robot's robot, yeah? Considering you're a robot made by other robots and therefore the most robotty robot to robot around!" Hey, Shen could try to be a little witty from time to time. Not that it was necessarily as witty as he tried to make it sound. But he tried. Oh dear X did he try. And he prayed, oh dear X did he pray.

    Now Shen, he understood that robots were different. They didn't need to wet eyeballs with tears by blinking; sure, the lack of blinking could be a little freaky but he'd learned to live with unusual things. After all, he'd lived in hotel rooms with a half-dead necromantic assassin from the Hebei province. And if you guessed that was Duo Lon, then you were absolutely right. "Hey, if it were someone I were close enough to, I might get them a nice ride. You know?" That ride wouldn't be his spicy crotch rocket, of course. "You get my aesthetic! I mean, I know it's not for everyone--you're more classy, for one, and seem more like a fast, expensive car guy than a motorcyclist like I am. Like, I could see you in a convertible, top down, scarf flapping in the wind, hat tilted enough to just keep the sun out of your optics but let you see the road safely, you and the convertible gleaming with the sunset." Now that was a mental image he could appreciate as well.

    He tapped his lower lip. "Ah, right. 'Cause you can't really eat. But if you were organic it'd be kind of unable to be resisted, I bet." He then scratched his cheek. "Well, shit. I learned somethin' new today. I guess I'm so used to a certain Frenchie being associated with sachertorte, rather than crème brûlée. Maybe someone let him try it." He then smirked. "O 'course. I do so love makin' 'em too. Fast to make, delicious, and those who can eat 'em love 'em." And versatile too. I mean, sometimes adding a chocolate candy? That'd make someone's day."

    Ah, how that made him think. What could he make for Scaramouche? He wasn't very musical, unless you counted him after beans.
    Scaramouche
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Scaramouche on Tue Jan 08, 2019 4:36 am

    ...Hm! That was an interesting change of pace. What gives, baby?

    Tiny motors whirred and whined as Scaramouche's optics readjusted themselves to better absorb the features of Shen's tanned face, lenses shuttering behind the android's glass LED display. Nervousness? Check. Awkward body language? Double check. It seems - if ever so slightly - that the gangster's 'tough guy' machismo was finally starting to crack. Perhaps it was the knives...? Organics were quite skittish around flesh-piercing edges! Or, more realistically, it could be that Shen was rather put on the spot. Sexcapades with a chili'd penis would fit the bill for just about anyone (barring sex 'bots). Either way, it was worth exploring. Provoking.

    "So, um...learning to be more than a thug, in other words. More than just some street punk, eh?"

    Concealed lenses once again shuttered as every hair, pore, and subdermal blood vessel of the brawler's face were analyzed with inhuman scrutiny. Click, click! Click, click! "Correct," the android replied, sounding matter-of-fact. "If you wish to remain - as you've eloquently put it - a thug, then you'll garner everything the thug life entails. Do you truly wish to live in fear for your life, however? You know as well as I do, Shen Woo, that living a life of infamy without a gang or patron is recipe for disaster, if not an early trip to the grave. Why do you think I'm a dishwasher and cook, and no longer one of Earth's most feared assassins?" Several moments passed between man and machine before the pixelated 'eyes' of Scaramouche's display lost their severity. "Hon hon hon~! Whoops! Pardon me there, babe. I saw ya gettin' vulnerable and I smelled blood in the water. Don't worry, though~! I'm harmless unless ya give me a reason to sink my pearly whites into a lil' somethin', somethin'." The stage was set, the actors ready to perform! How would the gangster react? Would he react? Ah, the suspense~! It was just the kind of edging Scaramouche oh so relished.

    "Fear not, my dear Woo-Woo," the robot chuckled, his lips quirking into yet another wry grin. Get used to 'em, because Scaramouche was nothing but teeth and insolent buffoonery. "I'm sure you'll manage juuuust fine if ya put that hard head of yours to the figurative pavement. Chin up, huh? Like they say on the boob-tube, figure out who ya wanna be and then become it, baby~!! And, hey, word of advice?"

    Scaramouche leaned in close with mechanical - crk-crk-crk! - cranks of his slender neck, voice hardly above a sensual whisper, "Make friends, play nice, and always pay the Piper. He's your best amigo if ya treat him right, mhm~! ...'Cause he's otherwise a damn bitch if ya piss in his cereal." Which Shen will do, and which Scaramouche was apparent of. Yes, now. Ah, how did the saying go? All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players? Something like that. But don't take the android's word for it~! His theatre days were long, long over. In any event, on with the show!

    "No need to apologize~!" He fanned his hand and let bygones be bygones. What was one innocent faux pas shared between friends, after all? "Chances are, if the guy eats, drinks, and subsequently relieves himself on the porcelain throne, he's an organic with cybernetic parts and/or enhancements - a cyborg. That goes double if he ain't got no Three Laws or hard-coded restrictions since creation." It was hard programming the concept of 'free will' since it was an inherently organic quality. "Hon~! The most robotty robot to robot around... Y'know, I kinda like the sound of that! Makes me feel one-of-a-kind." Which was more or less true, considering Scaramouche had once belonged to a batch of ten; all of which were now long gone deceased, destroyed, or otherwise recycled into parts. It was just him, baby! Just him...

    "You get my aesthetic! I mean, I know it's not for everyone--you're more classy, for one, and seem more like a fast, expensive car guy than a motorcyclist like I am. Like, I could see you in a convertible, top down, scarf flapping in the wind, hat tilted enough to just keep the sun out of your optics but let you see the road safely, you and the convertible gleaming with the sunset."

    Aw, that was cute~! And he absolutely grooved on the mental imagery.

    The android outright guffawed, the entire basement rocking from his unbridled laughter. "Hon hon HOOOON~! Oh, baby, that just fries my circuits, dead in the water!!" he tee-hee'd and hee-haw'd. Once Scaramouche managed a better grip on himself, his shoulders rocking, the robot cracked a larger-than-life smirk and rested one hand atop his metal hip. "This is gonna sound ironic comin' from moi, but I ain't exactly one for speed." He instantly held up his other hand before Shen could interject. "Strange, I know~! But, like, my sensors just go cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs whenever I'm in a movin' ride. Anythin' above the speed of 65kph and I blanch. Just ask Knock Out, he'll tell ya all about it!" If anything, Scaramouche was actually more for a... moped! One of those old Italian ones, where he could spontaneously take Lunette for a summer ride and they could wow the birds and the bees in a picturesque open field. Preferably with flowers in bloom and with less bees. They liked to hide in her downy fur and then inconveniently say 'hello' whenever the android got fresh with the lovely lady's curves!

    "It's true, ya caught me red-handed~!" If he could eat... Oh if he could eat... Scaramouche saw no reason in hiding the truth. "If I could, I'd stick my fingers into every lil' thing and fall in love each time, hon hon~!" His thoughts instantly turned dirty, and it didn't take a neurosurgeon to read his lewd processors. "...Y'know, other than actual seafood, no smell really turns me away. I guess that's good, right? 'Cause, like, what's the point of eatin' if your schnoz don't agree? I bet everything would taste pretty bland!" And who needs that on their plate, right?
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Shen Woo on Thu Jan 10, 2019 10:44 pm

    Shen, of course, was a bit on the spot, and the tough-guy facade was starting to break  He was a 'tough guy', for sure, but had a bit of a scaredy-cat streak deep down.  And those knives, well, they reminded him of the scimitars.  How a scimitar if used right could leave a fellow with a Glasgow Smile or a "jugular smile".  Talk about spooking the poor guy.

    "In other words, why I took up with teammates in the King of Fighters tournament after losin' my gang--most of 'em to death."  His gaze darted aside.  How else would he have met up with company like a spoiled French teen with weird superhuman flames, an assassin from the mountainous reaches of China, or an old Irish assassin who killed folks with playing cards?  Speaking of, he almost wondered how Oswald was faring.  The man had needed Dragon Pills to keep him from dying from some illness Shen wasn't so sure of the origins of.  "Well, ain't no shame in capitalizing on someone's vulnerability to teach 'em, I suppose."  That's what he saw it as.  Teaching.

    And yet, though he learned, he also wasn't really all that bright about learning.  Making friends was easy.  Playing nice was easy for the most part.  But paying the Piper--that would be where he failed the hardest.  "Advice gotten."  His voice creaked lightly.  All the world was a stage, the men and women merely players; they had their exits and their entrances, and one man in his life played many parts.  Shen's part, it seemed, was the absolute damned fool and the street thug who had no idea that such a brilliant line came from Shakespeare, or even from the play As You Like It.

    "I only ever see him drink and...I think he's kind of got a hatch or somethin'.  Maybe he's more mechanical than organic if he's a cyborg?"  Shen shrugged.  He then chuckled at how Scaramouche seemed to react.  It was good to see him happy to see how one-of-a-kind Shen saw him.  He had no idea about the batch of ten--or that he would eventually meet the first creation of a batch of eight either.

    Oh, so he wasn't one for speed?  Well, at least the convertable would be about style!  "Well dang--at least it'd be as fashionable as you even if you went the speed limit!"  He winked.  He didn't know Scaramouche's true ride type.  But he could respect a moped type of fellow.  Mopeds weren't bad.

    Oh, how Shen could have spun that statement into a dirty statement.  He had a dirty mind himself!  Probably one of the dirtier minds.  "Ain't that the truth?  Though some of us like the smell of seafood, I can respect that it's not your bag.  No shame in it.  It's like me with only one kind of seafood."  Not that he was going to mention jellyfish.  He loathed jellyfish.  It tasted NASTY.  "And now you know why some of us ain't too fond of eating with a cold or flu.  Ya can't smell a damned thing, and you don't taste jack shit."
    Scaramouche
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Scaramouche on Sat Jan 12, 2019 1:00 pm

    "Teachin', eh?" Upon hearing this, Scaramouche drew back and tapped his chin with a light frown. "Hm... no, no," the robot ultimately said, fanning his hand. "I'm no teacher, baby, I'm a cleaner." And it was the way Scaramouche said 'cleaner' that would have normal folks' teeth on edge. "Why, that's what an assassin's for, ain't it~? To clean up after someone's mess and make problems disappear with a snippity-snap?"

    But, as quickly as the chilling moment reared its monstrous head and flashed a toothy grin at Shen, it just as quickly vanished, replaced by the usual buffoonery Scaramouche was known for. The goofy 'bot snapped his fingers in a half-Z formation and innocently laughed, "Hon hon~! Not too much unlike now, 'cept I keep my nose clean and outta trouble! Real talk, though, babe: if you're serious about learnin' and polishin' up around the edges, just talk to others while heedin' that thumpin' organ between your bodacious pecs. Can't go wrong with makin' a couple of decent friends and doin' a lil' introspection on the side, yeah? Even consult a self-help book if ya don't know where to start lookin'." Hey, if it worked for a lowly wretch like Scaramouche, an ambitious hitman with an axe to grind and a reputation to uphold, it could work for Shen - if he willed it. Nothing else will make the cut if the gangster went in half-assed.

    And no, ass-less chaps wouldn't make anything better. Scaramouche would appreciate the view, however~!

    "I only ever see him drink and...I think he's kind of got a hatch or somethin'. Maybe he's more mechanical than organic if he's a cyborg?"

    The android shrugged, grinning that eternal grin. "Maybe, baby~! If he's one of those nut jobs that's more machine than man, I wouldn't doubt this fella got rid of his peskier organic functions in order to maintain optimum efficiency. Not gonna lie, Woo-Woo: eatin', drinkin', and stayin' on the crapper takes up a lot of valuable time! I seriously don't know how ya organics do it. Oh, and sleepin' - but that one's kinda nice~!" Ah, but they've already been down this tangent before. No need for a recap.

    Ooh, fashionable~! Such high praise coming from the God of War himself. Whatever was the poor android supposed to do with all of it...? "Aw, you're too much~!" Scaramouche remarked, acting like a blushing maiden in front of her amore. Damn it, where was his silk hanky!? Now he can't cheekily wave it before Shen like an obnoxious tart! Sigh... another golden opportunity for forbidden romance, ruined. This was so cramping on the robot's style. "Nyehe~! Oh, I may look great in vogue, but what's all that frou-frou stuff in comparison to rrrrripplin' muscle? I'm talkin' that mighty fine, eye-catchin' masculine RUGGEDNESS, baby~!!" Y'know, something a lean, mean, fightin' machine like Scaramouche would never have? Not without drastically undergoing some cosmetic modding, of course! ...And, seriously, that was a lot of freakin' work, not to mention dough. Ain't no 'bot named Scaramouche got time for that!

    "Ahhh~!" Great, now Shen really got the android all wound up. Scaramouche pirouetted right where he stood, being as dramatic and showy as possible. This is why we don't indulge large hams! "If only I could grow muscle and be as strappin' as you...~!!" he airily giggled, fluttering back down to Portal Breach with a wistful sigh. "Ugh, ya don't know how hard it is gettin' the men around this joint to bare their goods. Why, take my best and only grill chef, Boon! He's got a bod that'll rock the Casbah, but d'ya see him struttin' around topless? No." He rolled his optics with a noise of disgust and rested his elbows against the bar counter, propping his grumpy face up with both palms. "Pffft... not like you'd be able to see anythin' through all that demonic fluff anyway." Oh, but a chiseled hunk like Shen? Now there's a body worth putting in a museum for all to see~! A sly optic regarded the brawler with an equally sly smirk to match. "If ya ever get that motorcycle, I'll be hereeee...~!!" the android winked. 'Thirsty' didn't even begin covering it. At this point, Scaramouche was like a princess trapped in a tower and surrounded by brawny lumberjacks, rugged huntsmen, and gruff wilderness aficionados. Being imprisoned by all this stubble and man-stink should be made illegal, argh!

    Life at the downstairs bar was suffering, yes sir. But hey, at least Scaramouche could vent his frustrations by whipping out a couple of stiff drinks, and it definitely kept the men coming all night long, ha ha! Oh god, please end him...

    "Ain't that the truth? Though some of us like the smell of seafood, I can respect that it's not your bag. No shame in it. It's like me with only one kind of seafood."

    Scaramouche blinked. "Jellyfish," he said. "Ya mean jellyfish, right? I remember you ain't bein' too fond of those." And for good reason, 'cause it's jellyfish. What the heck was so alluring about a lil' see-through critter with stingers...? Man, organics were just weird. "He he~!" The android rose to his lofty height and quit (secretly) ogling Shen's delicious physique. "Mm, sounds terrible~! Now imagine bein' able to smell but not taste..." Concentrated misery in its purest form. Anyway! Cyan optics roamed down the bar and took quick note of who needed refills, who wanted to pay their tabs, and who was looking for a good spot of bother. It was never a dull moment when one was a flamboyant bartender in a sea of surly rough-n'-tough types. Went just as well together as diesel fuel and fertilizer, but boy was the explosion worth it. 

    "Anyway, I better, like, get back to work, babu," Scaramouche piped up, giving the brawler a fond pat on his shoulder. One last touch, for the memories and the road! "D'ya need anythin' before I go floatin' off? Speak now or forever hold your peace! Otherwise, just holler if ya need me. I'll be around, guaranteed~!"
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Shen Woo on Sat Jan 12, 2019 3:21 pm

    Shen gave a faint squint. Normally folks' teeth were on edge, but he leaned in. "Think...teacher. After all, an assassin teaches you a valuable lesson--to value your life before it's gone." It seemed too well that Shen understood the implications, and had his own view of what an assassin could be considered in its own way. Even here, where assassination meant coming back.

    He then gave a small smile. "Well, that's the thing, my heart is probably the most dangerous organ of all. Then again, that kind of happens when your heart's been hurtin' for a long time, right?" He didn't mean just romance. After all, his gang took in an orphan whose mother had died when he was still young, and that had been what made him have a burning need for something to fill that painful, empty void that a mother's love lost through death had left. "Might take a lot of introspection and not just a little, bro. But you're right. You're...right." Wait, his eyes seemed to have a faint shift that read of sadness deep down. Was that the tough facade breaking again? A facade that he held up so he didn't break like his enemies' bones.

    He then snickered. "Or if he didn't, his country did. Or maybe doctors to save his life. The poor lunkhead. I hear he was a cop beforehand." But now, now Maxima was probably Robo-Cop. "Sleeping is nice. And sometimes the crapper--if you don't need to go crap or even...well..." That seemed to have sexual implications. "Sometimes I used to slip into the crapper and just stand in front of the bathroom mirror and...talk to my reflection, you know? I know that takes up time too but...well...helped when I was lonely." And he had been a lonely kid, at that. A very lonely kid who had no parents, was being raised by a gang older than him.

    Shen gave a sheepish look. "I'm bein' blunt and honest though!" Shen rarely if ever lied. Except to himself. He was used to lying to himself to the point that he told himself he wouldn't cry ever again except in physical pain. And yet that had gone from a lie to the truth, it seemed. He hadn't cried in a long time, unless he'd had a broken bone. "Oh, you think I'm rugged? I ain't a guy that survived in a forest though. The urban jungle ain't the forests near a burning village." But who was that about? Was it someone that Shen thought about constantly? Oh Scaramouche, it sounded like he thought Duo Lon was the true rugged one, not he himself.

    Shen himself had a pinkish flush to his own cheeks. "Aw shucks! I'm not that strapping, am I? I'm bulk muscle, I ain't lean muscle." Okay, Shen was a little humble a deep down. "Aw, maybe that's why he doesn't bare it all. The fluff's in the way. But it'd be kind of rude to shave Boon. Which is a shame because I'd love to see muscles like his too. Looks mighty. You know?" He himself rubbed the back of his head a little. Oh how he was even getting a little more shy. Please oh please stop flirting! "And I'll roar the engine for you--and for Lu if she likes it!" Hey, there wasn't any reason to exclude Lunette from anything. If she liked a nice ride, why not let her see it and even rev the engine if she wanted to?

    And yet, life at the bar was like being a meguca magical girl. But fun, it seemed. People came around. Shen almost wanted to be a bartender. Almost. But that required skill and his skill wasn't with collins glasses or martini strainers. No, his skill was with a wok.

    Shen grimaced and shuddered. "Jellyfish. Even the word sounds nasty, you know? Eugh!" Well, of course it was nasty, of course it was so damned nasty! "Damn, that would suck. That would suck like...well, it'd suck like the bootleg Hoover that the gang had at one point, and that thing sucked hard."

    He lifted a thumb. "Will holler if I need ya, even if it's to tell you goodbye!" He took a bite of the bread pudding while savoring it. "Hope the others don't give ya too hard a time!"
    Scaramouche
    Scaramouche
    Terabyte

    Terabyte

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    Age : 33
    Location : Anywhere the wind blows, babe.
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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Scaramouche on Sun Jan 13, 2019 6:08 pm

    "Think...teacher.  After all, an assassin teaches you a valuable lesson--to value your life before it's gone."

    ...What? The android was seriously doing mental gymnastics here. "Why would an assassin be the one teachin' ya that...?" Scaramouche asked, confusion read visibly on his metal face. He blinked a few times, adding, "If anyone should be teachin' ya that lesson, babe, it's life itself. Assassins teach ya a few things, sure; that a dagger in the back is never too far away, and that your actions or existence can provide the ink for your writ of death. We teach ya that there's always a bigger, hungrier fish lurkin' in the water, and that anyone with the coin can put a price on your head. We teach ya to mind your P's and Q's, and to be aware that predators exist in a world where societies think themselves above barbaric practices. We teach ya that life ain't all that hunky-dory. We teach ya that the price of blood can be as dirt cheap as a pack of smokes. We teach ya fear." Not that the android, himself, would ever take up such a piddly job. His calling card carried far more weight than that. "So, unless you can dissect your entire life in the meager seconds ya have left to breathe before the lights upstairs go out and I twist my dagger in deeper, it's a rather pointless exercise, y'know?" Oh, there was a value on life, all right. But it wasn't quite the same value Shen was referring to, hence the robot's voiced dissent. The gangster had been right about something, though...

    "Hm, well..." Scaramouche tapped his chin and soon found himself grinning, tossing credit where credit was due. "I guess I really do teach folks somethin'!" he laughed. Well, well, well, talk about a pleasant surprise. Shen had done a lil' provoking himself! "It's a vicarious kind of lesson, 'cause - really - it's too late for the other person once I take 'em to the cleaners, but I get'cha. Here's hopin' everyone else pays attention, huh~?"

    "Well, that's the thing, my heart is probably the most dangerous organ of all. Then again, that kind of happens when your heart's been hurtin' for a long time, right?"

    No argument there.

    When it came to emotions and acting before thinking, organics had that covered in spades. A logic-based entity like Scaramouche could only emulate the phenomenon, not inherently understand it. He recognized the second part very well, however, for one needn't a heart to comprehend emotional turmoil. Thousands of algorithms listened quietly, combing over the brawler's words as they sifted through the sea of 1s and 0s to connect to something so alien; to dare to be human, if even for a second. "Heart, power supply, spark or quintessence... Like I said, babe, life's the teacher and it gives ya the tools necessary to cope. Ya need only reach out and embrace 'em. Otherwise, you'll be trapped in its wheel. It's like a wise turtle once said: when the path you walk always leads back to yourself, you'll never get anywhere." This was true for anyone, even the most stubborn and self-centered personalities like Knock Out. Can't grow as a person if you indulged in personal vices, right? It was like a kid running from their shadow - futile.

    The conversation shifted to other waters; robo-cops, combating loneliness, and - ehe - masturbation. Scaramouche could only relate to two (here's a hint: it'd help so much if he could). "Well, I mean..." He shrugged and busied his hands with nothing in particular, finding them something to do as he looked down. This was gonna be a stretch, him sticking out his slender neck and hoping it wouldn't get chopped, but sometimes all others needed was a lil' faith to get themselves going. After all, hadn't the same courtesy been extended to him...?

    "If, like, ya ever get lonely, babe..." he tentatively began, looking Shen in the eye, "ya can always come on down here and hang out with me. We may not agree on some things or even click well all the time, but..." The robot again shrugged and put on a petite smile. "It beats the alternative, right~? 'Sides, loneliness is a bitch. It's not a fate I'd wish on even my greatest enemies." That's where the inner conflict was strongest; where everything felt exasperating, impossible, or even pointless. Like a soul lost as sea, hopelessly fighting against the indomitable waves. "And of course I think you're rugged! I can tell that just by lookin' at the scars decoratin' your skin and the remnants of bodily harm beneath it, baby." Optics flickered behind darkened glass; a telltale indicator of Scaramouche seeing in more than just the visible spectrum. It was kinda cute how Shen blushed, though~! "Hey, between you and me? Bulk muscle is best muscle," the android winked. Oh sure, being lean was nice and all, but it left something to be desired when trailing your fingertips down the smooth contours of flesh and muscle. There also wasn't a lot to grope...

    And yes, it was true. He couldn't shave Boon and tell the demon to show a lil' skin. That was sleazy!

    "And I'll roar the engine for you--and for Lu if she likes it!"

    "Pffft! Forget Lunette, baby! What about meeeee~!?" Scaramouche guffawed, slamming a hand against the bar counter in good, mirthful fun. "Seriously~! Lu don't like humans that way - she says they're borin' and look ugly without any fluff. She wouldn't appreciate the aesthetic like I would." Which, hey, meant more for the robot, so he wasn't complaining there either! Oh, but that vacuum comment... It definitely had Scaramouche lapse into a moment of silence, blinking repeatedly as he processed the gangster's statement and looked up what a 'Hoover' was. "T... They make bootleg vacuum cleaners...?" he asked. Another handful of seconds ticked on by. "...Why?" Well, why does anyone make a bootleg anything? To save moola and con some poor schmuck, of course! But... But why a vacuum...?

    A-Anyway! He shook his head, clearing it of such noisy thoughts, and snapped back to reality. "R-Right!" Scaramouche grinned, offering a thumbs up. Remember! Cool as ice. "Thanks for the well wishes, baby! I had a fun time shootin' the shit with ya, and I hope ya did the same~! See ya later, alligator, and don't be a stranger, huh? Take care~!" And off the android went, flamboyantly waving his goodbyes to Shen as he went off to juggle the rest of his duties, a grin on his face and song in his 'heart'.

    Ah, if only they could turn back time and start the clock anew...
    Shen Woo
    Shen Woo
    Gigabyte

    Gigabyte

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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

    Post by Shen Woo on Mon Jan 14, 2019 10:52 am

    Shen winked. Though there was a voice of dissent, it seemed Scaramouche got the analogy. "See? Still a teacher of many lessons, and therefore, the teacher analogy rings true." He seemed almost to be internally preening at it. "And, well, about dissecting one's life in meager seconds? That's your life flashing before your eyes before you're like 'shit, I'm dead'." Hey, he'd actually had his life flash before his eyes a couple of times. One of those against Oswald, the playing-card-throwing assassin, at that. He probably would have been assassinated by the old man had it not been for that portal, to be honest. "They best pay attention...and pay the piper, yeah?" Hey, he had to make reference to the role of the little skirmisher himself.

    Too bad that Shen's vice just happened to be the one thing he thought himself good at since he'd been a big fish in a small pond at one point in his life. "Mmm, too true." The thing was, Shen wasn't even so sure he had a path, truly. He'd come to two roads that had diverged in a wood, and could not travel both, but unlike Robert Frost, he had no idea which one was the path not taken. Or maybe fighting had been his path, and he still wasn't sure what to do when his path diverged in that yellow wood.

    Shen was still quite humble about how rugged he was. After all, despite Duo Lon's beauty, the man seemed to be so much more rugged. Or maybe, Shen's opinion was that assassins were rugged? Oh, assassins were quite rugged. "...I might take you up on that." Mind you, he did feel a little less lonely around people, or in the cities. He was from a gang in Shanghai, for hell's sake! "Well, I'll be. Mmm, but those scars, okay, I'll admit those are pretty rugged. I mean, I even take off my gloves once in a while to bare my favorite scars." After all, his fists were his favorite part of his body.

    Shen snickered, though they were on a different wavelength there. He had meant literally the motorcycle. "That's why you get first dibs on hearing the roar of the ride, silly! Though a shame she might not be fond of the steel horse either. I mean, she's gorgeous but I respect she's got her types. Like tall, handsome, and fashionable. Or fluffy." And yet his mind, for a moment, was on the fact that one day, he almost wished he could be a cowboy, and that on a steel horse he'd ride. He then scratched his head. "Welcome to China, where everything can be bootlegged and the item don't matter. But seriously it's probably to con some poor housewife or to give poor folk a chance to get what seems like the perfect cleaning tool." He shrugged. Mind you, he preferred bootleg movies and bootleg flip phones. Shame that his last phone had ended up in the water in Shanghai no thanks to an exciteable partially-demonic teenage French boy. No, seriously, Ash Crimson was part-demon. How could he not be with a demon like Saiki as one of his ancestors?

    "Do take care!" He winked. He was already slipping credits out. Even though he knew things would be comped, thanks to Ash Crimson he did do one polite thing--leave a sizeable tip for others' hard work.

    But too bad time wounded all heels instead of healing all wounds...

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    Re: Where Everybody Knows Your Name

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      Current date/time is Tue Mar 26, 2019 10:05 am