Slipstream (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dontasktrix) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
re_alignment_logs2013-08-08 08:19 pm
dontasktrix) wrote in re_alignment_logs2013-08-08 08:19 pm
Is this thing on?
WHO: Slipstream and WHOEVER would be in this bar
WHERE: The Bar
WHEN: Something analogous to this evening
WHAT: Slipstream has returned from she-knows-not-where and is a wee bit confused and just off. Accidental bad stand-up or unscheduled poetry reading maybe even impromptu karaoke.
WARNINGS: Icky robot injuries
Usually one might expect an individual who is tipsy with overcharge or drunk to be walking out from a drinking establishment. Of course, it's rare anyone always gets exactly what they expect, like a handsome mech with a distaff clone, just for example.
A Seeker walks into a bar.... It's like the set-up for some amusing anecdote. This one walked in the pair of door with an unsteady gait, though her long legs clad in teal armor showed no visible damage. Probably internal one might think. Only, in this particular case, the bot's upper body didn't look so hot.
There was enough there to suggest she had been the type some considered attractive, if one's tastes ran toward curves and chins: an intact canopy of pale blue glass, pert ailettes over each shoulder, and broad wings with angular, purple insignia boldly emblazoned. The rest was marred with sets of parallel scratches. None were patched or healed, and among them cuts on her left side and arm were bleeding something black. Her right optic, still dimly glowing crimson, appeared damp.
She didn't speak. She didn't move loudly. There was just the slashed shell, faltering steps, and typical operating noise to draw attention, if one had the situational awareness to be watching.
Without a gesture or call to indicate she was there for service or meeting with anyone in particular, she stopped a short distance away from the bar. After several nanoklicks she staggered off to her right, where the small stage was lit in preparation for some scheduled act.
If anyone tried to stop here there, she didn't seem to notice. A side-step and a blank stare were her response. And then, she stood upon the stage. In the spotlight. It was the sort of thing that might draw a little attention from a crowd expecting another act.
Suddenly, the Seeker realized this. Shutters irised down over optics; the right one leaked. She hunched, a bit. Her lips - lower component sliced vertically - parted. A single stained talon poked at the microphone.
"Is this thing on?" In answer, her voice echoed back from speakers in the distance.
Scrap.
WHERE: The Bar
WHEN: Something analogous to this evening
WHAT: Slipstream has returned from she-knows-not-where and is a wee bit confused and just off. Accidental bad stand-up or unscheduled poetry reading maybe even impromptu karaoke.
WARNINGS: Icky robot injuries
Usually one might expect an individual who is tipsy with overcharge or drunk to be walking out from a drinking establishment. Of course, it's rare anyone always gets exactly what they expect, like a handsome mech with a distaff clone, just for example.
A Seeker walks into a bar.... It's like the set-up for some amusing anecdote. This one walked in the pair of door with an unsteady gait, though her long legs clad in teal armor showed no visible damage. Probably internal one might think. Only, in this particular case, the bot's upper body didn't look so hot.
There was enough there to suggest she had been the type some considered attractive, if one's tastes ran toward curves and chins: an intact canopy of pale blue glass, pert ailettes over each shoulder, and broad wings with angular, purple insignia boldly emblazoned. The rest was marred with sets of parallel scratches. None were patched or healed, and among them cuts on her left side and arm were bleeding something black. Her right optic, still dimly glowing crimson, appeared damp.
She didn't speak. She didn't move loudly. There was just the slashed shell, faltering steps, and typical operating noise to draw attention, if one had the situational awareness to be watching.
Without a gesture or call to indicate she was there for service or meeting with anyone in particular, she stopped a short distance away from the bar. After several nanoklicks she staggered off to her right, where the small stage was lit in preparation for some scheduled act.
If anyone tried to stop here there, she didn't seem to notice. A side-step and a blank stare were her response. And then, she stood upon the stage. In the spotlight. It was the sort of thing that might draw a little attention from a crowd expecting another act.
Suddenly, the Seeker realized this. Shutters irised down over optics; the right one leaked. She hunched, a bit. Her lips - lower component sliced vertically - parted. A single stained talon poked at the microphone.
"Is this thing on?" In answer, her voice echoed back from speakers in the distance.
Scrap.
no subject
"R u okay???"
no subject
"Why wouldn't I be?" She asked in extra-shrill tone, which again was amplified for the crowd. Of course she wasn't OK! But she wasn't just going to admit it!
no subject
Ravage kinda cringe at the shrill tone. "'Cause it totes looks like you've been in a smelter???" At least he's being honest.
no subject
"You know what's melting? My heart , from all the concern you're showing." Of course she said this in an entirely disingeuous tone.
no subject
Well. Despite her injuries, she was pretty damn sexy. Okay, maybe the injuries only made her look even more hot.
Frenzy waited until she was up at the microphone before shouting through cupped hands, "Sing somethin' sexy!"
Sorry, I kinda blanked on how to respond for a while
The fact that her remaining on stage pretty much invited attention was mostly lost on her.
"We got a slaggin' one-track processor here!" She grated.
However, she wasn't really opposed to singing. She didn't believe she was bad at it, and maybe it would stop the whole gawking at the femme thing. Seriously, it was like bots from some universes had never seen such a thing! Besides, it seemed the most effective way to excuse her presence on stage, without really explaining.
So, Slipstream broke quickly into a rather more high pitched rendition of some song she'd picked-up on Earth.
Bot should know when to give up.
oh don't worry. i move sloooow.
"C'mon!" Frenzy shouted. "Put more energy innit! Shake yer aft a l'il!"
True Casanova.