|
Post by Shast on Jan 22, 2018 3:13:57 GMT -8
Slypner At the back alleys of Rammount a stout and lithe navi saunters. He's draped in navy blue robe with a large ink black scarf wrapped around his neck. His scruffy white hair matching his paler skin. He eyes each rough looking navi as he walks.
Sigh... he exhales with an out of breath effort despite never having felt true exhaustion in his life.
He rounds a bend, gazing at each buzzingly bright sign and navi peddling its wares. From knicknack applications to battle chips. As the cloaked navi progresses further and further, navigating the maze-like back alleys of Rammount city the denizens become sparse, the lightning dimmer and dimmer... The few navi programs seen of the heel variety. Cautionless he presses on.
|
|
|
Post by Shast on Jan 24, 2018 7:06:32 GMT -8
Slypner Some time passes, his listless eyes meeting the piercing yellow glare of many a heel navi before the short, sporadically glitching navi, settles on a small shack nestled between two rundown buildings. It's front is actually the storefront as well, as the shack itself has no doors. Merely a small slab of wood serving as a clear line between keeper and customer. On the darkened metal plank of metal that makes the stores shelves are several darkchips and applications for the modding of chips. Whether it be upgrades or less...legal intentions.
Hello. The words drip like ooze from his lips.
EH?! the crackling voice of a Mr.Prog whos used too many darkchips pipes up, and from under the counter its signature green frame and red antennae pop up. Clearly dented and damaged in various places, and missing one eye. WhAt Do YoU wAnT?! it continues. It's jarring speech unnerving the entities strolling by.
Information. About a tunneler. Slypner mutters without regard to who hears.
I gOt Em! Several jury rigged tunneling applications appear before the glitching navi. TaKe YoUr Pi- No. For my purpose these aren't suitable. Where I seek to tread lay beyond the veil of real.
The Mr.Prog flutters back and forth. Searching its memory for both understanding and answers. Finally it stops. oH! oH! oH! yOu WaNt JuNoTeCh! No TuNnEls... BuT! It slumps down. The tunnelers dispersing and being replaced by numerous droid scraps and various pieces of technology leftover from Juno's 'Paradise'.
Slypner looks over the wreckage. Finding nothing of real immediate value except that the overall technology appears rather alien in origin. He spends some time assessing and cataloging each piece in detail.
|
|
|
Post by Shast on Jan 25, 2018 4:28:46 GMT -8
Slypner Slypner finishes his documenting. Having jotted down all there is to know about this technology that his copied intellect would have the sense to deem relevant.
I don't want these. However, take me to where you obtained them. Slypner's request practically a demand.
nO cAn Do! If I gO i'Ll GeT rObBeD!
At this, Slypner reaches across the metal slab counter and flicks the Mr.Prog on its green head. aCk! they yelp in tandem. gO AwAy! they shout. Then turn to slink beneath the counter but bump into each other face first. Their faces widen as much as Mr.Prog can. Then it yelps again and runs about its stall screamingly wildly in stereo sound. It draws the attention of various passers and other vendors nearby. Who are all bewildered at the sight.
ThErE's TwO oF mE! they shout. Go. is all Slypner says, as one of the two Mr.Progs, seemingly against its own will, comes out from behind the stall and obediently leads Slypner further down the alley, and before long, out of Rammount.
/thread done.
|
|