Mar 11 09:55:24 108 PA - New Faces at a Dirty Joint
From Chronicles
Mar 11 09:55:24 108 PA.
MOE'S TAVERN
The winter of 108 PA in southern Missouri continues to be radical and unpredictable. As cold as it was in the morning, it's just slightly over freezing tonight, as the local chronometers are only a few clicks past eleven. Gabriel isn't the kind to really frequent Moe's, or even this part of the city at all, unless he's out helping the refugees, or hunting down various evils. Yet for some reason, he's here tonight, and even sitting right up at the counter, sipping from a translucent brown bottle that has everyone else pointing an and laughing - he clearly doesn't care. His snow gear is essentially gone, when it comes to overcoat, cap and gloves, looking like he probably didn't even wear it out tonight. As for the dive bar itself, it's absurdly crowded. The fire marshal would not be pleased. The Juicers, 'Borgs, and other enhanced beings are packed in to watch some kind of team athletic event on the huge screens. The older man with the significantly graying hair doesn't appear to have much interest.
A little over freezing is still a lot cold. The door opens and Bella slips in. Moving in between the larger and louder people, she looks like an old coat squeezing between giants. It swallows her from head to toe and even her hands are hidden in her shuffle for a place to sit or stand out of the cold.
Gabriel himself is short, for a human man. If it weren't for the fact that he were sitting on a stool right up at the counter, he'd be invisible, or possibly even dead, having been crushed between some of this nutty people that chose to pump themselves up with drugs, or slamming metal in their heads. He continues to enjoy his beverage, and continues to be laughed it. A glance at the vid screen ends with a shrug, and he turns to look out across the crowd. Looking to see if anyone that he knows has also randomly shown up as well.
Bella has randomly shown up. Getting crushed by nutty people doesn't sound like any fun to her, so she shuffles and squeezes to try and not be under junkie or metal feet. She winds up at the end of the bar away from the screen since it's about the only place that isn't stuffed full. Bella the moving coat gets taller and shows that she has legs when she slips up onto a stool. She doesn't even try to order anything to drink over the roar of hoots or boos about the game.
Down the bar, where the older man has so boldly placed himself damn near the center, there's a glance, a wave toward the bartender - even more laughing - and a bottle is slipped across the counter. He offers up what is apparently the appropriate amount of credits, grabs the bottle, and of course, the one he'd already been drinking, and moves toward the living coat. He certainly takes a number of bumps of his own on the way, but for a short guy who appears to be human, takes them well and in good nature, rarely even frowning. Gabriel nods his head politely when he's finally within that empty space that the coat - with legs - has found. "Pardon me for saying miss, but you look a little out of place. Maybe even a little, ah, I don't want to say frightened, how about, 'uneasy?'" The man's speech doesn't just come out. It comes out in what is a very thick Kentucky drawl, an accent that people in this age are very unlikely to recognize. The closed bottle is extended. "It's a 'Donovan's Fizz,' best soda I've found around here. Non-alcoholic, so you can't get in trouble."
Uneasy's probably a good word. The hood turns to the older man and just stares at him a while. He can even see bits of a face in there. Mostly chin. "Nah, I don't... Sure." Bella lifts an arm up and a thin little hand appears out of the sleeve to grab at the bottle. "How'd I look outta place?" She doesn't have a drawl but there's some kind of accent or mumble.
"Well, miss, you're bundled up in a coat so that I can barely tell that there's more than fabric, you move as if you aren't enhanced like any of these other people, and you managed to find just about the most remote place you could find at this dive." Gabriel raises an eyebrow. "I'd say that looks awfully out of place. You need help or anything? My name's Gabriel, plenty of people can vouch that I'm a good guy. Can I do something for you?" He dips his head low, attempting to put his eyes in a position to peer into the hood.
"'S cold out." Her head and hood tip down to match his dip. "And there's lotsa guys everywhere lookin' ta help 'n sayin' they's good." Bella lifts her head to look at him again and he can now see most of a face. A smirk, too. "Don't make 'em nice." Her hand with the bottle sits on her lap.
The older man simply nods, listening. "I don't mean to be presumptive, but I haven't seen you around. Of course," Gabriel waves an all-inclusive hand around the city, "Kingsdale's a big place. Perhaps we just haven't bumped into each other? Or you are new to town?"
Bella shakes her hood. "Been 'ere forever 'n ever. Just didn' bump yet." She turns away from him and lifts the bottle up for a drink. There's the cap, so she pops that off first and spits it to the floor. Now she can take a real drink.
The older man with the graying hair, a short man who appears to be human is off to the most distant place within Moe's Tavern. Sitting on a stool near him is what appears to be a coat sitting on a stool, a coat with legs. Each has a bottle in hand. As for Moe's, well, the place is packed. It's eleven in the evening, on a Sunday, and there's some kind of huge team sporting even happening on the vid screens. The place is packed with Juicers, 'Borgs, and enhanced beings of all kinds screaming at the top of their lungs, throwing bottles, and being generally rowdy and completely uncivilized. But to be fair, it's damn cold outside, so who wouldn't want to be indoors.
And places like this are just like home to others, Taz makes his way into the bar by ducking and twisting to make it through, standing taller than even more full conversion borgs and yet he is flesh and blood. He rolls his head to the side, senses automatically kicking up as his harness feeds him who knows what kinds of drugs in response to seeing other juicers acting somewhat crazily. Still it's not a full dose and so the big, very big, man just grins and calls out a few greetings here and there as he makes his way through the morass of living and sometimes breathing individuals towards the bar.
There's a murmur, and a few glances go back towards the door. Eyes settle on Taz, most of them anyhow, but a few spy the armored figure behind him. An all-together unpleasant feeling creeps along the necks of those who haven't yet drunk themselves into a stupor. A feeling of something forgotten at home, or something vaguely wrong. Johnson brushes his way through the crowd, catching a man shoved his way and shoving him back from whence he came, as he presses back towards the card game, head on the swivel.
A coat with legs and a bottle stuck into her hood. Some of whatever's in the bottle empties out. Bella is a thirsty coat, but she stops and brings the drink back down to her lap. Probably so she can be sometimes breathing. Good guy Gabriel gets a curious look and then the hood turns to peek at the big greetings. She can't even see the door behind the huge guy much less anybody else.
Gabriel's attention remains on the coat. Sure, the huge thing is noticed, but it's distant, and currently has absolutely nothing to do with him. The image that he saw within the hood clearly didn't phase him at all. After drinking from his own soda for a moment, he asks with a polite smirk, "I don't mean to be forward, oh coat who has been here for ever and ever, but do you have a name?"
Taz is a very big guy yep, very very big, inhumanly big some might say. Still he's obviously not a squishy and that makes a world of difference. Moving up towards the bar, well, the end of the bar, Taz leans against a wall rather than lean against the bar. The bar can take it, but maybe he's still getting used to his size, strength, and mass and just isn't trusting much as of yet. He looks over the crowd, grinning at some of the antics going on as he waits for whomever is on duty behind the bar but eventually bellows out, "Gimmie somethin' ta drink." with a big grin at the bartender.
That regular-sized armored fellow seems to be gone, for the moment. From the back, a voice can be heard yelling, "He got ACED man! Fix yer damn translator! How many ways have I got ta say it? Fucking junkyard dog, man! Sinclair's HISTORY!" The words fall back to a more normal volume, to be lost in the din, as people shuffle about back there.
"Yep." Bella's hood nods to Gabriel. "Doesn't everybody? Know ya got one." He can see a little grin on the face swallowed by the hood. "It's-" Her quiet introduction gets overpowered by shouting about a drink and history.
Gabriel is himself distracted by the loud shouting. He sets his own bottle on the counter and seems to loosen up a little bit. He may be squishy, but he's got years of experiences, and this world hasn't killed him yet. But as one man in a crowd of enhanced humans, what might the correct strategy be? If your forces are overwhelmed, deny your enemy battle. "Perhaps I'll learn your name some other time, miss," he states to the coat, then moves off, using the walls as one defensive point, just sliding along it until he reaches the door, and the outside winter.
Sometimes shouting is the only way to be heard, especially over a noisy bar, which just gets noisier in response like tidal waves of sound ebbing and then crashing higher once again. Taz is rewarded with something to drink, the big man reaching out with one armored hand to take the large mug and (very very) carefully pick it up. He sniffs at the contents and then shrugs, taking a large drink, swilling the alcohol, or what he assumes is alcohol down though whatever it is apparently has a kick as the titan juicer starts to cough and hack while shaking his head, apparently whatever it was burns badly, or, taste's horrible. Possibly both. Taz shakes it off in a moment and then chuckles, "Damn..." He says as he looks at the mug again and then downs the rest of what's in the mug with fervor.
The armored figure slips from the back, followed by a stream of curses and a tossed beer bottle. He whips around, slapping the bottle from the air, as suds spray over that armor in a hops-fueled spatter. Whatever Johnson's reply is, the translator doesn't understand it, and the bar's bouncer begins easing back towards the aggressor. For his part, the armored figure turns and walks back towards the bar itself. Or more appropriately, towards Taz. "You," his speaker delivers in a dull monotone. "Big man. I buy drink for small favor."
Bella isn't big and isn't old. That probably makes her the squishiest. She ducks some when the huge arm reaches near or over her to grab the huge mug. Then she's hunched to avoid any huge sloshes or backwash that could fall on her. "Bye? Try bein careful?" One for Gabriel and one for the new mountain by her. Now she can see the armored guy too.
Taz is near to -everyone- well, not quite, but he is near to a lot of people at his end of the bar at least. Finishing his drink Taz goes to slam the mug down on the bartop but stops himself just before the mug would hit the bar and then sets it down all gentle like. "Better be small favor if only worth drink." Taz says in a deep rumbly voice as he looks over towards the armored Johnson, flicking a glance down and then up as if taking the other man's measure briefly. "And ain't no way ya gettin' a yes outta me widdout speakin' what it be firs'." Is he slow, or just acting slow because it amuses him?
Johnson looks up. And up. And will likely get a crick in his neck if he keeps at this very long. The raised chin of his helmet shows his armor to be of fairly cheap construction. Inexpensive seals. "Pick up so can see bar. All of bar. Up, around, down. Then three bottles in big mug. Need look for man." He waves expressively, arms pantomiming Taz lifting him and turning him slowly.
Taz rumbles a chuckle, "Sure." He looks for a handhold on the man's armor and out of the corner of his eye catches the cloak. He blinks at it once before he looks back towards Johnson, "Easier if turn 'round." He offers thinking he might be able to just grab hold of a the back of his armor and lift him up or the like. Not like his weight is going to be a problem after all, unless he weighs well over two tons. Finally one large hand just grabs around the side and waist of the armored individual and up he goes. Lifting him up so he can look around he says to the coat, "Sorry." In a deep rumble, though quieter at her 'try to be careful' comment.
Bella looks at both the men. Big and bigger. She doesn't even try to break her neck looking up to the biggerer one, so her hood stays at her level"Yeah. Don' drop 'im on me." Just in case, she slides over to steal Gabriel's old stool. Not a big change, but a little one. She leaves the bottle on the counter when she moves.
Johnson wriggles in that grip. Legs swaying back and forth, helplessly, as he tries to peer this way and that. "Not here," he laments in that mechanical monotone. "Someplace else." Johnson's hands fall to Taz's massive fingers, not prying at them, but holding them as if wary of being crushed. "Must be new management." He peers down, shaking his head. "How much is drink?"
Taz sets Johnson back down without just dropping him, fortunately his armor probably absorbs most of the thud of booted feet on the ground as Johnson gets set back down. "No charge." Taz rumbles to Johnson with a smile before he looks over at the coat, or where it was. He tilts his head to the side and then rumbles another chuckle and shakes his head again before he looks back to Johnson, "Moe still runs this place. Always has, always will far as anyone knows."
"Wow. Gotta freebie." Bella has to wonder. "Y'always so cheap? I know some people ya can pick up fer free. Can drop 'em, too." She now remembers her bottle and reaches out a sleeve and a little hand from it to grab the drink.
"Not Moe," Johnson replies. "He owns shop, yes. He not only game here. Many master. It has been a pleasure meeting you, big man." The translator seems to know that phrase, at least! The expressionless helmet peers up at Taz, and Johnson turns to stride away, slipping between two people to ... simply be gone. Like a card trick. One moment he's there, and the next he's not.
Taz pssh's at Bella and then moves to lean down next to her since she free'd up a little space, some other people instinctively make room. "Free when no effort." He rumbles to Bella in a quieter tone of voice, "Breaking people, dropping people, always repercussions. Always fallout. Never free unless personal."
Bella stops to stare at nothing? when the guy with the speaker up and vanishes. Maybe the big one stepped on him moving closer? "Oh, only the easy stuff's free. Sounds 'bout right." Half her bottle disappears in her hood again. "What if it's fun?" The bottle pops out and Taz might be able to see the grin.
Taz chuckles, "Depends on how much fun..." He then looks towards the coat curiously, trying to peek under it but he is really to tall for that sort of maneuver. "Why," He asks, able to tell the voice is female still, "Who want to be broken and what kind of funs?"
"Dunno who -wants- ta get broke." Bella helps him out by craning her neck to look up at him. "Just wonderin. Gotta make sure ya have fun sometimes, right?" Yep, there's a little face in all that hood. "Ya look like the kind that smashes things for fun."
"Don't know." Taz says seriously with a deep rumbling chuckle, "Still getting used to being this big." He admits with a bit of a shrug, "Got six years to figure everything out... well six years, 10 months." He grins at that, a big wide grin. "And sometimes, people wants ta be broke, an' they don't know it, or they think 'at they ta good ta be broke an' jus' hasn't learned yet ya?"
Bella's eyes get bigger. "That all? Guess ya better learn fast. Figure I learned mosta what I need to stick 'round longer 'n that." Now she smirks. "'Less somebody gets it in their head I need ta get broke. Don't like those sorts of people. You break lots?"
Taz grins, "Well, that's the limit. No Titan Juicer's lived longer'n six years." The huge man says as he gestures for a refill for his mug from the bartender, tossing more credits for the drinks. He looks over towards Bella then, "You shouldn' hide so much, makes ya stan' out more'n if ya didn'. Unless ya wanna stand out by bein' headless coat?"
"Ain't hidin'." Bella waves her bottle around a little. "Sittin' right here. If I was hidin' ya wouldn' see me. That's kinda the point." Her hood shakes. "Like my head where it is. Look funny if it weren' there." You have just received a vote.
Taz looks around, gesturing with one big hand, "Look 'round, nobody else wearin' hoods and bein' small like." As if being small were a choice. Taz rumbles another chuckle and shrugs before nodding his thanks to the bartender, taking another drink of whatever potent alcohol it is that might give the juicer even a momentary buzz. "Jus' thinkin' ya be hidin' ya face a lot... still not used ta havin' ta look down so much." He rumbles with another shrug soon following.
Bella shrugs. Or it looks mostly like one. Her coat moves some. "'S cold." Her sleeves come up, both hands poke out this time, and she pulls the hood back off her head. Yep, there's a whole face and a head to hold it up. It even makes a tight-lipped smirk. "Want me to grow bigger, now, or somethin'?" Her lips don't move a lot when she talks. Probably one reason she's quiet.
Taz looks at her, studying her for a few long moments when the hood is pulled down, "Nope." Taz says to the 'grow big' comment most likely, "Now know what look like, got face ta go with voice, if not name." He grins and then takes another pull from his overlarge mug and looks around, "Not cold in here..." Of course he's wearing a full suit of armor and is a juicer to boot... yeah he probably doesn't notice much of the cold outside and in here packed so tight with bodies... not so much cold in here either. "Remember winter in the Dregs, glad I moved."
It's warmer in here. That's probably a big reason why she's here. "Yeah. It stinks. Summer ain' much better. Nicer at night, though." Bella's smirk softens up some to more of a smile. "Ya'd be waitin awhile if you wanted me to grow. Not learned that one yet. But you did."
"Credits can buy anything." Taz rumbles simply, "Can make a person inta another person, can turn 'em inta robots, or can turn a scrawny guy inta a giant." He chuckles and finishes his mug, "Turn a weakling inta a god. Mebbie only six years, but six years a god, is better'n sixty years a nobody." Seems he's made his peace with the idea that he's on a one way trip.
"Creds can do lotsa stuff. If you got 'em." Bella gives up on her bottle and sticks it on the bar with fizzy stuff still in the bottom. "Can't do everythin'. Whatcha gonna do bein' a god?" She has to smirk again and waves a sleeve around. "Drink in bars?"
"Whatever I wants." Taz says with a loopy grin, "Right now, 'at's drink inna bar, no longer be a squishy. Think I'll find some work, make some more creds... so can live good till the end o' m'days." He laughs at that, a deep booming sound before he taps his mug on the bartop to order another refill from the bartender. "What would you do? I's already smited my enemies."
Bella quirks up her brows. "Better not make new ones, huh? Or make 'em so ya don' get bored?" After that she goes quiet and looks towards the door. "What'd I do? Smash mine 'n not get new ones, I guess. Ain' no god though."
Taz nods, "Well, am sure I will find new ones." Taz rumbles with a little smile, "If not, can always go pick on the dead boyz." He hmmms, "Still, will need to find work... Gotta get creds, keep the harness full or won't be a god anymore... be a ten foot tall weakling..." He wrinkles his nose at that particular thought.
"Dead boys?" Bella's quirk tightens up in worry for a second. "What kinda... Oh, gotcha. Ones out that way?" She waves a cuff sort of east and continues on with a nod. "Don' wanna run outta juice. Dryin' up's bad for anybody. Need ta get creds, too, but ain' so good at work."
Taz shrugs, "East, north, southwest... they's all over." He finishes his drink and then pushes the mug away from him, lightly, which sends it slamming into the wall behind the counter and he scowls at it, "Damnit." He rumbles before he looks over at Bella, "Ain't nobody gets along so far without skills girl." He rumbles since he doesn't know her name, "Ta have lived this long, inna dregs no less, ya got marketable skills."
Bella watches sidelong as the mug flies against the wall. "Maybe a little less next time?" A new little smile and a shrug. "Maybe I do. Ain' got people handin' me piles o' creds yet. Stayin' round here's mostly knowin how ta hide, how ta duck."
Taz rumbles another chuckle, "Tried..." He shrugs, "I got made too strong." He stands up, "Even when I hold back, I crush stuff... too strong." He smiles wryly, "I gotta jet. I'm sure I'll see ya 'round nameless." The big man then turns and walks towards the door, of course not having much trouble making it -to- the door.
