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Post by Kman on Mar 28, 2017 10:25:58 GMT -8
This day had certainly been a frustrating one for one Maximillion Karnes. The man had been designated as the next NetOP of JewelMan, and the Navi himself was rather remarkable in a number of ways- very different than many other Navi that the man had ever had the fortune, or misfortune, to deal with. However, the fact of the matter remained that the Navi had, thus far, scared away two potential young women with whom Max had been getting close to by commenting on their sense of style. And given his job, where JewelMan was required to be audible at all times in case there were any instructions that Maximillion needed to provide for the Navi, the women had heard his commentary and had not found it amusing. So that had been two potential nights of entertainment gone down the drain. Max did have money, but beyond that, he was a rather average-looking middle-aged fellow. He kept in decent shape and dressed well...but he was rather average, even if he didn't present himself as such. And now, after the hours had ticked by, the martinis that he had been sipping on were gone, and the alcohol had started to warm his flesh, he was getting a bit more restless. "Barkeep- scotch," he called to the man behind the counter, who gave the man a small look, but he wasn't exactly slurring his words or making any sort of a spectacle of himself...and as such, the bartender felt he might as well. Pressing a button on the console, the fully automated bar poured the scotch, the glass moving down to the man who grasped the container as it approached, taking a long pull on it. It burned all the way down, and he could feel it tingling all the way up to his nose hairs. He gave a small breath, the pleasantness of the alcohol starting to wash away some of the irritation he'd felt so far during the day. JewelMan: I say, Max. You aren't drinking that dreadful stuff again, are you? You lose what little beauty you do have when you're lost to the drink, you know."Hush, you. I thought Navi were supposed to listen to their Net Operators. What makes you so special?" JewelMan: I predate you by several years, mon ami. Many years, in fact. And as they say- with age comes beauty."No one says that," Max growled, moving to take another pull on his drink. Tiefy
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Post by Tiefy on Mar 28, 2017 20:48:53 GMT -8
"...still don't understand why I can't have any." "International liquor laws, Minerva. These are distilled, not fermented, and they have different age restrictions based on that." "Tch...!"
This exchange comes from off to the side, near the entrance to the establishment - two new faces have arrived, and now stand in front of a door marked "Employees and Vendors Only" alongside a small cargo trolley loaded to capacity with what appear to be assembled cases of various liquor and spirits. The beermaidens have arrived with their most sacred of nectar in tow. The shorter of the two appears to be significantly younger, likely still in her teens, and dresses the part as well - a common skull motif ties together a punkish-looking outfit comprised of a black sleeveless top, a knee-length red skirt with a gold-plated skull-buckled belt, and what may very well be the single most dangerous-looking set of boots that Max has ever seen in his life. Those things must weigh twenty pounds apiece, covered in chains and spikes and, of course, tipped with a skull motif at the toes. Her hair is dyed an almost neon-purple, and is tied back into a pair of long-tailed braids that almost look like monstrous arms tipped with four-fingered claws, accessorized by what appear to be (surprise) skull-patterned headphones. The older, taller one is much more mild in her fashion sense - beige trousers with flared-out ankles, a wine-red vest over a sleeveless top, and tied-back fiery-red hair. Much of the upper half of her face is hidden behind a set of thick-rimmed glasses - a technology-savvy individual may recognize these spectacles as a variety of Wearable Interface™, a must-have for any business professional who needs to have their hands free. Both of them have oddly-pale skin and piercing silver eyes... sisters, perhaps?
"...Where the hell is the manager, it's already been ten minutes! This stuff doesn't stay cold forever..."
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Post by Kman on Apr 13, 2017 9:07:40 GMT -8
Maximillion glanced up at the pair of women as they seemed to be employees...of a sort. He had imagined them being so when they'd first come in, but now that he was looking at them, he realized that they weren't in any sort of uniform, and beyond that, there simply wasn't any reason for them to be working here considering just how much of this was automated. The number of programs at work behind the scenes was dizzying, and he understood that, but even still, it was always something that made him a little...curious to think about. His gaze drifted back down to the PET where JewelMan was working on-screen, breaking away bits of data within the seemingly randomly-generated expanse of the Net, looking to see what treasures could be found. The similarities of the Net to the real world were starting to become so close to a point that Max was starting to wonder where one ended and the other began.
However, the two women that were here had a different air than most. They weren't here to drink, and while the elder seemed more business-like, it wasn't in the same sort that you would expect from someone who works at a bar. The younger appeared to be something of a...rebellious teen, if Max had to guess, judging from her attire. Even still, he wasn't going to comment on such a thing, though he was certain that JewelMan likely would, given how he was.
Still, given the fact that they both were, currently, the only eligible females at the bar, the man couldn't quite help himself as he moved to stand.
JewelMan: Struck out twice and going for a double-header for the last? My my, your ball skill is certainly to be admired.
"Can it." The "puns" that Jewel was making were less than entertaining, to Max. They generally were when he was in a better mood, but at the moment, things just didn't seem to be going his way. He supposed he would just...start up a conversation and see where it headed. If he did indeed strike out with both of them then he supposed then he had nothing better to do than to simply call it a night and go home.
"Is the manager not answering?" the man asked, scotch still in one hand. His button-down was open near the top, the dark shirt revealing a bit of his chest. "I can see about knocking the door around a bit if you need some assistance?" he asked.
JewelMan: My my. So many skulls. You look a positive graveyard, my dear.
Max's teeth grit together with his smile, but moved to stuff the PET in his pocket, no longer wishing to deal with him, even with Jewel's constant commentary.
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Post by Tiefy on Apr 16, 2017 9:27:10 GMT -8
Two sets of almost-identical silvery-blue eyes now stare back at the drunkard from differing heights - in spite of the age difference, it's a pretty safe bet based on resemblance alone that these two are sisters. If the man was looking to get attention, he certainly has it now. If he was looking to make a respectable first impression, on the other hand...
"...Excuse me?" "Ignore the rabble, Minerva, we're here on business." "Hold on! That Navi..."
While the older red-haired sibling seems to be thoroughly uninterested in interacting with this man for any reason if at all possible, the younger one - apparently named 'Minerva' - is gazing suspiciously at his PET, even as he reaches to put it away.
"What about this man's Navi could possibly be worth not using his skull to bash open this door right here and now." "It... he gets me. He understands!" "...What."
The look on the older one's face is utterly priceless, the sheer spike in exasperated blood pressure being enough to knock her straight-combed hair into a slight curl at the bangs. If she were holding a clipboard or similar implement of her business at the moment, it would be dropping to the floor right now. Some sort of jubilant fervor seems to have possessed the other one, whose face is suddenly alight with energy and focus...
"Mister!! Are you a student of Nation Z fashion? Or maybe even... a fellow Ruins Maniac!?" "Salted Christ Crackers, not this again... see what you've done? She isn't going to shut up for a week now." "Oh, lighten up, Nina. Do you have any idea how boring this trip has been!?" "Better it be quiet rather than obnoxious..."
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Post by Kman on Apr 17, 2017 20:47:33 GMT -8
Maximillion watched the two of them for a moment, not entirely sure about this little back-and-forth sister act that they had going on. It was something that he hadn't ever really...seen before, even if the younger of the two was a little more spastic than her elder sister. Not to mention, she was a little young for what Max normally went for. Still, the fact that she was relatively interested in him, or at least in JewelMan, was more than he had gotten all night. Beggars couldn't be choosers, he supposed.
...Not that he had any intention of doing anything illicit with the girl. But perhaps through her, he could get to the elder of the two, even if she didn't seem to be particularly interested in him in the slightest. Which hadn't stopped Max in the past, either. He was relatively fine with getting slapped if he pushed a little further than he should have. It was all part of the game...even if he was notoriously bad at it. He did have money but that was about all that he had. He had some looks but in a day-and-age where people were getting more able to modify things about themselves with money, looks weren't exactly a hot commodity anymore.
However, at the younger one's words, Max gave a small sound, blinking as he looked down at the girl, not really following exactly what it was she was talking about. Ruins Maniac? That he had no idea about. At least with Nation Z he know /of/ the place, even if it wasn't something that he had visited much before. Or ever. "I can't say that I'm even certain what a Ruins Maniac is," he admitted, scratching at his jawline. "But I have seen some of the fashion that comes out of Nation Z and it is definitely mind-blowing," the man spoke, gesturing forward rather extravagantly. In seeing her, he could tell that that was the sort of fashion they had, even if it wasn't something that Max himself would ever deign himself to wear.
JewelMan: Certainly a fashonista of the area! Max, shall I order you some of the latest of their designers?
Max gave another small, subtle facetwitch. "No, no Jewel, that won't be necessary. Thank you for the offer though."
JewelMan: Oh but according to this blog that I've found for you, many retailers are overstocked and as such, there are many pieces of clothing and accessories that are on incredible sales. Young woman, you may be interested in some of these details as well! Shall I send them to your NetNavi?
Max struggled to keep the smile up. JewelMan was doing all of the talking and the flirting, as it were, and he was standing her as an accessory to it all. It didn't help that the Navi could have access to just about everything within seconds, leaving him to struggle to keep up with the conversation that he didn't have a full understanding about.
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Post by Tiefy on Apr 18, 2017 16:17:30 GMT -8
" And there goes the expenses budget..." " Please, I emptied that out browsing NetMall on the way here." Another irritated eye-twitch sets the older sister's glasses askew upon her face, and the metal handlebar of the cargo trolley is audibly creaking and cracking under her grip. This woman's got claws of steel, and more than a bit of a temper boiling under that professional exterior. She seems to catch herself mere moments from swinging a large, heavy object through the nearest destructible surface..." And it's more than just fashion - skull symbolism represents the eternal mark of history and mankind's enduring nature, as evidenced by-" " Dead people leave corpses, and they sit around for a really long time before they completely collapse to dust. There, I just saved you from an hours-long rant." " Hey!" So, the girl's fashion sense really IS a positive graveyard?" Look, I'm in no mood for this today, this establishment was supposed to be prepared to receive its first shipment from us today, and twenty minutes of waiting is already too long when you're handling temperature-sensitive liquor. This has already been a monumental waste of time and money so far, I'd rather not add human lives to the list of things squandered tonight."
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Post by Kman on Apr 21, 2017 20:18:07 GMT -8
The bickering between the sisters would have been almost cute to Max if it weren't for the fact that the elder of the two looked like she was about ready to kill people due to the younger's words, and then judging from her attire, the younger was actually going to wear the people that the elder had destroyed. It was more than a little scary for Max, but at the same time, he was used to being in a position where he was dealing with people who held a lot more power than he did. That was just one of the "perks" that he got for being JewelMan's NetOp.
At the older's short-and-sweet version (regarding the death and decay of human bodies), Maximillion gave a small sound, forcing a smile to his face as he nodded along as if he understood. "I see, I see," the man spoke, feigning both understanding and intelligence on the matter at hand altogether.
JewelMan: That is strange, Maximillion. Your tone indicates that you do not understand. That is to be understood, given just how much information there is on this in its entirety. Worry you not, I will seek to educate him on the full understanding of the skull symbolism so that perhaps the enxt time you meet you will have a lengthy conversation on such instead of him trying to fish for answers.
"JewelMan, can you not?" Maximillion asked, before he heard the elder sister began to vent a little moreso, looking less than enthused about the situation as a whole. "Well, sadly I do not have much to offer on this particular note. I don't know the owner of the shop well enough to offer anything beyond some kind words and a smile, though I could see about kicking the door down. However I find that would be...in poor taste," the man spoke, just in case one of them actually decided to take him up on that offer.
JewelMan: Perhaps you should not continue to incite these women, Maximillion. They are upset enough as it is. For shame.
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Post by Tiefy on Apr 29, 2017 9:46:11 GMT -8
<WARNING! Refrigeration unit power supply at 32%. Return to dock for recharge to prevent equipment damage or stock spoilage.> "God... dinkit... F**K!!"
*BWAANNG-G-G!!* Such is the sound of the older sister's foot slamming into the apparently-metal door with enough force to leave a visible dent, vibrating it upon its hinges. Who knows how bad the damage could've been if the sisters had swapped footwear - the massive spiked stompers worn by the younger one could probably crush concrete with enough force behind them.
"Maybe we're early?" <Scheduled order reception window closes in six minutes.> "...Never mind." "Tssss... frick, that hurt more than I thought it would. Well, f**k 'em! If they're going to no-show, the deal's off - you get one shot with Argent Ivy Breweries. Minerva, go set up the kiosk, we're giving out samples - an' if they want more after that, they can try looking anywhere but here!"
The skull-studded younger sister nods, reaching for an odd little black-and-gold object hanging from her left hip... on closer inspection, both of them appear to have matching replicas of the device, which appears to be some sort of retro-style PET type - a collector may identify it as a heavily customized Advanced IV model, a style that went out of production over 150 years ago!
"...Mister, you're standing right where we're going to put the booth." "Move your ass or I'll move it for you." "Yeah, that."
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Post by Kman on May 1, 2017 20:43:10 GMT -8
Maximillion found the whole conversation going back and forth between the sisters to be mroe than a little humorous, but he wasn't about to laugh. He felt like, between the anger of the elder and the dress code of the younger, it would be his bones decorating their clothing here soon. The man shook his head, before the refrigeration unit began to give off a little helpful alarm, letting them know that it was going to run out of juice. THat probably wasn't going to be-
Nope. Max winced slightly as the elder slammed her foot directly into the door that was stopping them from gaining entrance, but at the same time...despite its hardy exterior, the woman's foot had done enough damage to dent it. HE didn't want to rish her ire in any capacity, he realized. Getting hit wouldn't exactly be the best thing for him. He was fairly certain he was going to get absolutely thrashed if he tried to do anything that would upset them.
The more composed elder sister seemed to start to fall apart, becoming steadily more irrational as time went on, and Maximillion merely watched her with a fairly amused expression, before he realized that the two of them now were looking exactly at him. "Uh-" Max began, when the two of them started to harp on him, down his throat. He didn't really think that he wanted to go up against the both of them at the same time- not that he would hit a girl regardless- but even still, the strength of the two of them kind of...intimidated him.
"Uh. Yeah sure, okay. So then for my friendly demeanor and friendship, what about giving me the first drink?" he asked, giving something of a winning smile to the pair.
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Post by Tiefy on May 6, 2017 19:08:03 GMT -8
The sisters stop in their tracks, shooting a glance to each other. The elder of the pair raises an eyebrow curiously, while the other just looks skeptical.
"...No offense, but you look - and smell - like you've already been going pretty hard today." "Hey, he might just be a lightweight like everyone else in this city."
Ouch.
"You aren't old enough to be judging that sort of thing, Minerva. But either way, this stuff isn't for the faint of heart. Though maybe we've got something suitable..."
Giving the metal case a light kick, the firebrand raises a presenting hand over the opening hatch on the top of the portable refrigerator, which slides back upon a mechanical track with a hiss as white vapor from the cooling system within shoots into the air. A cylindrical rack of some sort rises from the open hatch, lined all around with tiny bottles, each just barely larger than a man's finger. Most of the bottles are made with dark-tinted glass, with increasingly colorful labels all bearing a vaguely familiar logo - a simple doodle of a thorned flower with a bud shaped like a crescent moon. The ones on the top rack of the cooler are labeled "Tyhjennäpääkallo", and are slightly wider towards the top; the next tier down has a more rustic-looking label, bearing a richly-detailed image of some sort of white-bearded giant of a man clad in plate armor hurling a flaming school bus down from the sky towards a man who has set his head upon an anvil... they seem to become more garish in appearance in descending order upon the rack.
"Introducing the Argent Ivy International Collection - a selection of our finest fortified wines, meads, and distilled liquors from our vineyards and breweries around the world. Now featuring a fan favorite once forbidden for sale in Electopia... Sharan Fire Whiskey. But let's avoid pulling THAT one out unless we have to."
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Post by Kman on May 11, 2017 12:53:47 GMT -8
"Had enough to drink? Hardly. After the day I've had, a few more drinks wouldn't hurt to get just a teensy bit further than where I'm at now," Maximillion responded, waving a hand (the hand that was still holding the mostly-downed scotch) while the other set on his hip, until the younger one spoke as well, and Max's eyes narrowed a little bit. "Just because you're part of this whole...alcohol empire doesn't mean you can judge whether or not I can hold my liquor," the man spoke.
JewelMan: Not to say that the women know better, Max, but I think that third scotch is beginning to affect you in the most unsightly way.
It was clear from JewelMan's tone that he was relatively used to seeing this from Max, and while the initial comment might have incited a bit of irritation on the women's parts, he would prefer the two of them to be mad at him than Max. He likely would never see these two women again- but he had to work with Maximillion just about every day. It was better to stay on his good side than on theirs. "Don't tell me how much I've had to drink. I'm fine," Max responded, even as JewelMan reported the alcohol level in the man's blood- a necessary precaution after some of his other stunts. "You dumb computer program," he muttered, before he downed the last of his scotch, before he set the glass down, turning back around to see the display of the small unit expanding into its own little display area.
Maximillion hadn't really been looking to comment at all, he had just been planning to take whatever sample they had given out, before he heard the last name mentioned and he blinked. "Hey. My old man had some of that," the man spoke, lifting a hand to rub at his face a little bit. "He never let me have any of that, the old bastard. Then it went illegal and no on really wants to bring it back, but if you got some...I want some Fire Whiskey."
JewelMan: I dare say, Max, I think that you might want to try this Fire Whiskey perhaps on a different day? One you might remember afterward, perhaps.
Max grunted, but didn't respond to the Navi, his gaze starting to become a little unfocused now as the scotch he had been drinking while talking to the two women started to bring him up from buzzed to somewhere definitely inebriated.
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Post by Tiefy on May 11, 2017 14:51:12 GMT -8
"Really, now? You want some of... THIS whiskey, then?"
The woman places a fingertip gingerly against the top of a bottle on the lowest tier of the spinning rack, gently tugging it out of alignment with the others. Her pale-skinned hands are clearly well cared-for, lacking the tell-tale scuffs and scars of one who hauls liquor for a living...
"If you fancy yourself to be a connoisseur, perhaps introductions are in order after all..." Plucking the bottle off of its perch, she holds it out to the almost-drunkard by its dainty glass neck. "Nina Garadi, owner of Cambion Vineyard and majority shareholder of Argent Ivy Liquor Conglomerates. This was a favorite of my ancestor, Argent Ivy's founder - stories say that he spent nearly two decades studying under the Sharan brewmasters before he could finally perfect his own." "Really? Do you have to shill it like this every single time?" "...Don't mind Minerva, she has little enthusiasm for the family business. Over a hundred and fifty years of tradition and passion went into this little bottle here - the first one's on me."
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Post by Kman on May 18, 2017 1:27:32 GMT -8
Were he in a less inebriated state, or perhaps a more sober one, or some combination thereof, Maximillion would have noted that this woman rarely does her own dirty work. She is one that would allow another to do things for her whenever possible so as to not harm herself in any capacity. Of course, Max was not really in the presence of mind to notice such things as he was mostly drawn to the battle that her hands held, but not the hands themselves.
"I've been known to have a drink or two of many different kinds in my day," the man spoke, giving a small sound of discontent then as he felt a small belch rising up in his throat, but he served to swallow it before it became known and a little more awkward. However, as the woman began to introduce herself, he stood a little bit higher then, squaring out his shoulders. "Maximillion Gallant," he spoke in return, giving his own name as he began to realize that at no point had he actually bothered to introduce himself to these two women! How shameful!
As she offered the bottle over to him, the man gave a small sound before his gaze flickered back to Minerva as the girl gave a small whining sound regarding the spiel that Nina had presented to Max. Truth be told, Max wasn't fully listening, but he had to at least keep somewhat of an ear out to know what was being said. "That's a fair bit of tradition...and I'll be more than happy to sample some of this. If it's half as good as you say it is, you might have yourself a new customer," Max responded, before he moved to remove the stopper on the small bottle. "Bottoms up, eh?" the man asked to no one in particular before he moved to down its contents.
Fire erupted in his mouth, in his throat, in his belly. It was like drinking fire and the name, he discovered, was most apt for what it was. Pain blossomed soon after but he didn't bother to note it as he gave a small sound of approval as the smoothness of the whiskey began to put out the proverbial fires in his mouth, and he could feel it starting to ease down his throat.
That or he had lost feeling in them- one of the two.
"Name is...relevant," he spoke, having to stop and search for the word, his vision swimming a little.
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Post by Tiefy on May 27, 2017 16:30:46 GMT -8
"... ... ..."
By this point, the woman in front of Max appears to be speaking, but he hears nothing but a pulsing ring emanating from somewhere in the center of his head. Her lips move, but he can't hear a word, not even his own. The edges of his vision begin to go white...
...
...and the next thing he knows, Max is standing outside of the pub. Night has fallen, illuminated by the bright lights of the city and the lamps lining the streets. And before him, underneath one such brilliant street light, is the most garish and terrifying amalgamation of purple-and-gold metal and rubber he has ever laid eyes upon in his life. Fifteen meters long, vaguely shaped like a conical rocket sawed in half down the middle, turned on its side, and set upon six thick-tired, spike-studded wheels with golden skull-shaped hubcaps. The vehicle, if it could be called that, looks like somebody took the cockpit off of some manner of experimental military aircraft and grafted it to the front of a limousine, and then turned the whole thing into some kind of gothic bus-dragster. The thing's monstrous engine is located at the front of the literal hell-on-wheels, with huge perforated exhaust pipes curving like a devil's horns up and over the roof... are those rocket thrusters at the back!? As sense and the sheer gravity of this... thing hit Max's reeling, pounding head, a familiar voice pulls his mind back into reality...
"...ecially commissioned for the Nation Z Olympic Drag-Racing Team. Unfortunately, the first activation of its engines resulted in over three hundred casualities amongst the crew and spectators, an incident that caused the event to be dropped from the Games outright. It changed hands dozens of times ever since then, eventually finding a permanent home with the founder of the Vineyard... ever since then, it has served as the company car for generations."
It's by about this time that Max may realize that he's standing in front of the passenger's-side door - with the red-haired woman at the driver's side, twirling a ring of keys around her finger.
"And tonight, the IncuBus is going to have a little fun. You've heard of the Brand City Night Street Circuit, yes?"
...Oh fliping no.
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Post by Kman on Jun 1, 2017 8:27:09 GMT -8
Maximillion wasn't...exactly sure what was happening. The liquid had been a relatively small amount, but it burned all the way down, but unlike other alcohol, it kept burning. It was like it had adhered to his throat all the way down, and his stomach as well. The liquid hadn't been a gel, but it certainly felt like one, like he had swallowed a small glass of glue that also happened to be incredibly high-proof. His vision had started to swim in and out then, and he had caught fact that the woman who had given him the drink was talking. He didn't know if it was to him or not, but she was speaking, and that was something he almost felt bad about. His ears were ringing, or he thought they were. It was really hard to tell reality apart when he was like this.
His head began to float a little, or so it seemed, and it almost seemed as if he was on the verge of falling asleep...
And then he was outside. The cool air rushed over him and he couldn't help but to wonder what had transpired since that drink and now. He looked around, trying to get his bearings before he realized that the reason he couldn't see much of anything was because the majority of his vision was taking up by...something. He took a half-step back then, before realizing that what he was looking at was not at all what he had thought he was looking at. He had thought he'd been looking at some sort of wall graffiti, but in actuality, it seemed like it was a vehicle. An extremely hideous thing crafted of hellfire and brimstone, and coated with poison, but a vehicle nonetheless.
It was at this point when he realized that the woman was still talking and he turned his attention to her, blinking a few times as he tried to process what she was saying. However, as she began to mention the Night Street Circuit, Maximillion flinched a little. He had lost more than his own fair share of money betting on those races. Never more than he could afford to lose, but even still, it was always money he could have used elsewhere. But the thought of actually being a part of that race...and inside of that monstrosity brought him a bit of a sobering chill to his spine. "Ah...you're racing in that?" he asked.
JewelMan: Maximillion, as I have mentioned to you numerous times throughout the evening, Street Racing is not something that you should be indulging yourself in. Perhaps something a bit more...tame?
There wasn't fear in JewelMan's audio voice so much as it was almost annoyance. Like the thought of his NetOP getting into an accident and killed or worse was just inconveniencing for the Navi. He would be assigned to another new individual. "While you're not my boss...and it's technically the other way around..." he spoke, taking another step back away from the oversized hearse, "Maybe you're...urf....urk..." he murmured, vomit rising in his throat from the alcohol, and the man moved, bracing himself against a lamp post as he just let it all out, directly into the sewer grate below.
"I don't think you want me doing that...in your car," Max murmured after a moment, coming to stand. "What about something that doesn't make me move? Like a NetBattle?" he offered, before returning to the grate, more bile decorating the ground at his feet.
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