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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on May 6, 2005 22:42:45 GMT -5
Civ stumbled out of the near-empty club, setting off down the street and toward his apartment. Open mic nights were the only gigs he could get, and no one ever showed up to listen to a comic on open mic night. Those that had watched his act - out of politeness, mostly - had seemed rather unimpressed.
'I don't understand.' Civ thought. 'What part of "...but Greys walk like THIS!" do they not get? I mean, they most definitely do walk that way, what with their slightly differing bone composition and heel structures.'
He walked slowly, taking the time to re-analyze his act. Every joke had been accurate, the timing had been precise...so what was the problem?
'I'm ahead of my time, that's all. Someday, someone is going to see my act and realize that I'm much too big for this Factory town all together. Then, THEN, all those organics with their impricise humor analyzation hardware will know what's what.' It was, after all, a perfectly logical thought. His hardware was working perfectly, so if there was blame to be placed, it would have to be placed on the organics.
Soon enough, he would be home, where he would do nothing at all. Statistical data showed that such a lack of activity was required for his career as a stand-up comic, and he had never been one to question statistics.
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Post by ChronoCatfish on May 24, 2005 20:56:17 GMT -5
[Okay, doesn't look like DDX is getting here anytime soon. ]
A bulboid skittered up to Civ on spidery roots. It proffered a small, clay cup.
"Spare some change, abomination of godless technomancy?" It was clearly trying very hard to plead menacingly, and began to totter unsteadily. The Bulboid gave a sickly cough.
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on May 25, 2005 17:49:54 GMT -5
"I'll have you know that godless technomancers do not find me abhorant in the least." Civ said, reaching into his pocket. He had only two coins, which he dropped into the bulboid's cup. "You may want to get that cough looked at. Unless you think doctors are abominable technocybernetachracy-something-or-others, too."
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jun 5, 2005 21:43:38 GMT -5
"Hey." came a voice from the alleyway. The voice's owner began as unsteady climb out of the dumpster, details gradually making themselves apparent.
Hair: normal. Greasy. Cybernetic eye. Badly shaved. Half of shirt missing, to reveal metallic arm. Slipping back down into the dumpster again.
There was a pause for a few seconds. A more normal hand grabbed at the dumpster side, and found a bottle. Another pause, as the bottle was presumably emptied. This was confirmed when the bottle came flying over the dumpster wall, to smash at Civ's feet. Then a slow, constant whirring noise for a little while. The wall of the dumpster fell off, revealing the cyborg scowling at the two of them, the fingers on his metal arm having merged into a drill.
He reached down into the pile of garbage, and pulled out a gun, pointing it at the bulboid.
"We don't tolerate your kind around here. Get lost."
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jun 8, 2005 1:02:18 GMT -5
"Easy there, no need to go heels. He's on his way." Civ leaned down to the Bulboid and whispered. "Er...you are on your way, aren't you? I mean, you need a fight with this guy about as much as you need a hole in your head. Which, coincidentally..."
He trailed off, straightening up, and cleared his throat.
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jun 13, 2005 21:16:32 GMT -5
"Coward! Stand your ground!" the bulboid shouted, gathering the coins that he had dropped.
"So you're one of them, are you?" sputtered the cyborg, "I've had just about enough of you cult types stinkin' up these neighborhoods."
"Just-" the gun was noy pointed at Civ,
"about-" the drill-hand whirred,
"enough!" Bang.
[Aim: 4]
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jun 21, 2005 20:50:45 GMT -5
Civ had seen this one coming. Logically, a dumpster-dwelling cyborg with a hostile disposition would most definitely take a shot at what looked like a human anti-tech cultist. Civ calculated the most likely trajectory of the shot and stepped to the side just as the weapon was fired.
[Logical Deduction: 5]
"My good sir, I assure you that I am more machine than you would ever want to be. I'm made of metal and sythetics. My mind runs on a series of on-off switches. I am most definitely not a cultist. Please, put the gun away, before you get hurt."
[Charm: 5]
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jun 23, 2005 21:21:44 GMT -5
"Haha! Fight! Fight! Yes!" The bulboid danced gleefully back and forth.
"Hah..." spat the cyborg, paying Civ's words no heed.
[Drunkenness: 8]
He took another swig from a hip flask, and charged at Civ, drill readied.
[Blind Rage: 5]
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jun 26, 2005 23:09:20 GMT -5
The drill hit Civ dead-on, ripping through synthetic flesh but coming to a stop when it finally hit some of his metal hardware. Civ pushed himself away and paused as the skin was regenerated. No harm, no foul.
[Synthetic Regeneration: 5]
"Hahaha!" Civ laughed maniacally, wringing his hands and putting on his best crazy-face. "See that, chum? Your gun doesn't hurt me. Your drill doesn't hurt me. Ohohohoh, I gave you a chance to give up, OH, I gave you every chance there was, but now...now, I'm just going to have to wring the juices right out of that slab of meat you call a neck. You picked the wrong machine to mess with, my friend! AHAHAHA! C'mere!" He raised his hands, now curled into claws, and advanced slowly toward the drunk, all the while laughing hard and grinning with his eyes wide and not blinking. If this didn't scare him off, nothing would.
[Personality Modulation: 5]
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jun 27, 2005 22:59:07 GMT -5
[Courage 3]
The cyborg staggered backwards. visibly frightened.
"I... I don't want any trouble, mate!" he stammered, "I was just- I was-"
Recognition dawned.
"Hey, I know you! You're that guy from the comedy club!" Fear gave way to pity. "You really suck, you know?"
"What are you doing?" shouted the bulboid, "Destroy one another! Crush his spine! Eat his foot! I want to see blood!"
The cyborg shot him.
[Problem Solving 9]
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jun 27, 2005 23:07:07 GMT -5
"Hm." Civ muttered, watching the bulboid collapse. "Better him than me." He reched down and retrieved the change he had donated to the formerly sentient sprout before turning back to the cyborg.
"So...guess I'll be on my way, then. Nice to meet you."
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jun 27, 2005 23:16:44 GMT -5
"Hey, no problem! You ever need a writer for your act, ask for Mike." said Mike.
"I'll be... I'll be over there." he gestured back in the general direction of the dumpster as the drill deactivated.
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jun 27, 2005 23:20:23 GMT -5
"Writer?" Civ mentally calculated the probability of a violent drunk in a dumpster being a comedy writer. Quite high. "Yeah, I could definitely use a writer."
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Post by ChronoCatfish on Jul 5, 2005 22:23:38 GMT -5
Later, after the others had left, the bulboid pulled itself upright, oozing sap onto the pavement.
It spat and then began a slow, painful crawl away, looking back at the dumpster with a scowl. "Both of them... will pay."
It coughed up a leaf. Uh oh. That wasn't supposed to come from there.
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Post by Elegiac Catalyst on Jul 19, 2005 20:15:05 GMT -5
The great thing about being a machine is that you never really got tired, so you didn't need to sleep. Not needing to sleep meant not needing a place in which to sleep, which meant that there was no need to shell out tons of cash on an apartment. However, this also meant living a twenty-four hour life, which tends to register high on his boredom receptors. Civ wasn't exactly sure why RoboCo would want their arms-dealing robots to experience the occasional taste of ennui, especially since they would naturally be handling powerful and illegal weapons, but that was neither here nor there. The point was, Civ craved entertainment just as much as a human, if not more.
He set to the streets yet again, to see if there were any interesting places still open this late at night.
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