Portal Breach: The Collision of Worlds :: v.4.0


    We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

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    K.A.R.R.
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    We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by K.A.R.R. on Mon Oct 28, 2013 4:53 am

    Time: 1:20 PM
    Date: September 5, 0004

    One hour, thirty minutes, twelve seconds... Thirteen seconds now.

    While the Dark Judge managed to pilfer a map of some sort from the cart alongside the highway, much of it had scribbled over and used as a eating mat long enough that much of the street lettering had been washed away. The major  highways and landmarks had been pointed out however, ensuring a successful and rather lengthy stay at a lake side a good thirty or so miles off.

    Needless to say, the only red that stained the AI's paint was but a reflection from the traffic light that glowed adamantly above them. However, a scan over himself detected otherwise, there were still a few blood cells that lingered from the meticulous lake water washing. Namely in the more compact and hard to reach spaces of the paneling that surrounded his scanner. A flicker and the light turned a bright green, the Trans-Am smoothly accelerating in sync with the flow of traffic, turning down another street that was lined with more shops.

    "How much do you believe the technician may cost?" KARR idly inquired, his scanner sweeping over the rows upon rows of storefront faces. Boutiques, restaurants, music stores, movie rentals, high tech gadgetry... this place indeed seemed to have everything as the hobos from before had claimed. Somewhere around here was a building with red and white paneling and a sign hanging above it. With the long time spent searching for the place the quality better be worth the effort, and hopefully they had enough funds to not walk out empty handed.


    Last edited by K.A.R.R. on Tue Nov 05, 2013 4:31 am; edited 1 time in total
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Wed Oct 30, 2013 6:24 pm

    An excellent session! Messy and somewhat more problematic than the usual routine, both K.A.R.R. and the Dark Judge had managed to purge this life-infested world of five wicked souls. It was, as they say, a start. There was plenty more work where that came from and, soon, they will never have to worry about unemployment again. They needed to repair K.A.R.R. first, however...

    Within the vehicle's protected cockpit and shielded from this disgusting world, Judge Fear was keeping his mind occupied from temptation. It was an aggravating task but restraint was a must. He was currently scouring his long nails for any residual blood, briefly holding up a hand now and then to admire his sanitary work in the afternoon sunlight. They were immaculate, as expected. Pleased, the ghoul ceased fidgeting with his person and thought to spend the rest of his time gazing out K.A.R.R.'s window. It took a decent amount of time for the barren wasteland sands to be exchanged for the telltale signs of industrious civilization; roads, traffic lights, sidewalks and pedestrians... Ah yes, a typical city and its average populace. Judge Fear watched everything pass them by with a bored posture and was deathly silent. He was currently slumped in the driver's seat, helm propped upright by his left hand, as a foot idly tapped in rhythm with the radio's current beat. There was some nonsense about spooky, scary skeletons...

    ...Click!
    ...Click!
    ...Click!


    Soon a thick nail or two followed, the Dark Judge lightly drumming his fingertips against K.A.R.R.'s centerpiece. How much longer... How much longer until they could actually kill again? Everywhere the fiend looked, there was the unmistakeable crime of life. Oh, horrid and most insulting life! Men, women, children... Did it matter what they were? Their souls begged to be judged... Their souls begged to be purged! And all the great and mighty Judge Fear could do was merely stare out from this thick, innocuous window.

    Ridiculous!

    K.A.R.R. wrote:"How much do you believe the technician may cost?"
    Finally, some conversation to take the Dark Judge's focus off such vexing thoughts. Judge Fear swiveled that terrifying helm of his and addressed the vehicle directly. "It depends," he hissed. Sitting up straighter and letting this body's spine audibly crack, the undead creature pretended to grip K.A.R.R.'s wheel and steer. There was no need to let a nosy citizen in on their secret, yes? "If your repairs are labourious, we may have to schedule multiple trips to this Chop Shop. After all, K.A.R.R., we acquired funds from the rejects of society. If we had robbed a financial institution or a well-to-do businessman, our scenario would have been drastically more opportune." In other words, the two of them will have to settle what they could pay for at this immediate time. Reaching over with a creaky hand to the nearby passenger's seat, the Dark Judge held up a sack of credits - the accumulation of their session out in the desert - and casually bobbed it up and down.

    The sound it produced was fulfilling, although useless to one such as Judge Fear, and the ghoul glanced back over at K.A.R.R's main console. "We shall see what features we may afford with the weight of this purse," the Dark Judge continued. "If the technicians in question are fond of bartering, we may also take what we've acquired from our redeemed sinners and offer the possessions in trade." Killing the technicians was out of the question.

    For now.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by K.A.R.R. on Wed Oct 30, 2013 8:33 pm

    From within the vehicle's cockpit, the AI's interior optics observed as his passenger sat behind the wheel. Nails and feet tapped along to the rhythm of the current radio station, and the being's overall posture suggested a rather apparent sense of boredom. Errands obviously were not this creature's favorite activity, more interested in the populace that walked about on the sidewalks and idled along in the bustling flow of city traffic. KARR's question must have been a boon given how quickly Judge Fear responded, attentively sitting up with a crackle of bone and old tissue.

    "Hopefully what funds we have acquired will be enough to repair some of my more necessary functions." He replied, smoothly switching lanes to move towards the center most one. A truck quickly took up the space the Trans-Am had occupied before, blinding the Judge's view of the sidewalk for now... In exchange for the plastic grin of a female model pasted on the container's side. Apparently salads were enjoyable to the point of laughter in this current day and age. "I would not be surprised if multiple trips will have to be scheduled, during our judgement of the humans in the desert, I realized a few functions that were disabled that the report did not notice, namely my Silent Mode." He stated, the yellow scanner on his nose swooping from side to side as it searched for the Chop Shop.

    Red and white building... Oh, what was this? Ahead on the corner a structure of similar description stood, creamy white walls and deep red trimming. His CRT's flickered to life, the AI's telescopic lens zooming in on a sign that hung out and above the front door.

    Jo's Chop Shop and Robot Repair.

    "I have located the Chop Shop." KARR reported pleasantly, his turbines revving as he quickly switched lanes. Behind him a taxi honked their horn in alarm, tires screeching as it came to a sudden halt. However, the AI did not seem to pay them much mind, drawing close to the mechanic shop and pulling into the drive next to it. From the size of the doors it seems that they accommodated larger machines that could not make it through the more restricting front doors. A relieving thought as the Trans-Am parked itself under the overhang. However, there was still the matter of getting the employees' attention. "You will have to go in and negotiate price, I suggest you take the list with you for easier reference." He stated evenly, the pumping Halloween beat on the radio dying with a click as the AI turned it off.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Wed Oct 30, 2013 9:13 pm

    The Dark Judge was visibly displeased with having lost sight of the very souls he hoped to one day relieve; seeing a smiling caricature of a sinner did little to soothe the ghoul's building agitation. No longer fixated with the outside world, Judge Fear retrieved a neatly folded list from his utility belt - the very same that K.A.R.R. had printed out earlier. "You know your metallic shell best. What features take priority over others? Tell me so I may adequately relay orders to your technicians," he stated. And hopefully soon, for the vehicle had quickly located the very shop they had been questing for. White walls and red decorations, with an overhang to perhaps accommodate larger machines... Yes, this was the place. The Dark Judge read the building's sign for himself and already wasted no time in unbuckling his seat belt. A pity the radio had to be killed, however! Once K.A.R.R. came to a purring standstill Judge Fear stepped outside, cape unfurling and joints audibly groaning.

    "I will negotiate the business dealings, yes." Considering the vehicle couldn't just barrel its way through the building itself, that left the Dark Judge in charge of any and all transactions. Perfect! The ghoul rubbed his rotten hands together and delighted in this fact. Better to see the sinners he will one day purge and prepare all the more for it. Judge Fear reached back inside the cockpit for the coin purse and a bag of select goods; most of the items inside were things that should fetch minimal value if traded.

    A mechanic fancied parts and pieces, yes? Vagabonds were absolutely teeming with random knick-knacks!

    Necessary components in hand, the Dark Judge shut the door without much ceremony and turned around to peer through the window. "I will even offer them a deal that they will die for, ha ha ha!" If only, if only... Judge Fear cut his echoing laughter short and glanced back at K.A.R.R.'s console, hissing. "I shall be back momentarily. You will have your desired upgrades soon enough, my friend."

    It was time! The fiend left K.A.R.R.'s side and made his way toward the store's front door, letting himself in via one, fluid motion. Immediately the smell of oils and metalworking alerted the Dark Judge to someone being in, the aroma of fresh life prevalent. Ugh, the things one does while weak... Approaching the wooden storefront while sweeping his gaze around slowly, Judge Fear set down his collections and placed both clawed hands upon the counter. "Good afternoon, technicians of the Chop Shop," he hissed, voice reverberating throughout these meager walls. If someone were downstairs then they will surely hear him. "I am looking to purchase a few... improvements for a vehicle. May you be of service to me?"

    Come out, come out...
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by K.A.R.R. on Wed Oct 30, 2013 9:43 pm

    Ah, of course. I order for the Dark Judge to ask for the proper repairs, he would need to know exactly what KARR required. "Above all I need repairs to my circuitry, the realignment of my Beat and Lamna circuits, repairs to my fuel tank and engine components, re-calibration and tuning for my scanner as well as a reinforcement to my Molecular Bonded Shell." He listed off from his memory, though there was one more thing the AI wished for from the technician. "The laser that has been integrated into my systems has been damaged beyond usage, I would appreciate that it be restored to its former abilities if possible so our next session will be more efficient." The AI added, the door unlocking and opening for the Judge as he stepped out.

    KARR watched through his optics as Judge Fear gave his eager statement , laughter echoing about the vehicle's interior as well as his exterior. "I see." He noted, though hopefully the Dark Judge was not too enthused about fulfilling his words. Without another word the tall ghoul disappeared into the shop, leaving the AI to sit and wait.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Jo Pistonne on Wed Oct 30, 2013 11:28 pm

    Holy pulsars, who turned on the surround sound!? Jo nearly banged her thumb with a hammer out of surprise - that's how loud it was! "Big Z, is that you!?" she demanded crossly. No response, which... which wasn't like him. Unless, of course, he was trying to purposefully ignite her fuse. Knowing that overgrown space whale, that wasn't a far-off guess. "Alright, we have a funny man on board." The grumbling mechanic set down her tools and promptly clomped upstairs, pushing past the beaded curtain leading toward the store's lobby. "Big Z, when I get my hands on you I'm gonna - oh." OH. Jo stupidly ended her sentence and kind of sunk back into the beads, eyes wide and startled. Who... Who was that?

    Whoever that was was tall, gangly, and wore a helmet with the most weird grin on it. And oh, that smell! It smelled like the dead had just walked in! She covered her nose and tried to quietly cough, fanning the air around her with a grimace. Well, might as well bite the laser bolt on this one... "Hi! Uh... Welcome to Jo's Chop Shop! I'm Jo," the mechanic tried to warmly greet her outlandish customer. At least she thought it was a customer.

    Taking her place across the unknown man (she assumed he was a man, anyway), Jo put on her brave face and didn't want to come off apprehensive. Well, too late. Was there even a head in that thing? And those nails! She casually slipped her own hands off the counter, finding the man's fingernails mildly alarming. "Um... You're... You're not here for a set of industrial nail clippers, are you?" Eh, it was worth a shot to ask. Judging by that strange glow in the man's... helm(?), she figured that he was not here for a pair of clippers. "Riiiiight... So! You said a vehicle, huh?" What did this guy drive, a hearse? Not really wanting to find out, Jo went digging around the counter for a thick folder - the one filled with all the forms, paperwork, etc. Basically everything Big Z harped on her about.

    Proper bookkeeping, he called it.

    "Mind filling out all the information for me while you tell me what you're here for, exactly?" she asked, setting down the heavy binder before the customer. Jo slid him a pen, hoping that he could at least write with those nails.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Thu Oct 31, 2013 6:21 am

    Repairs to both Beta and Lambda circuitry boards ; check.
    Repairs to fuel tank and engine ; check.
    Recalibration and tuning of system scanner ; check.
    Reinforcement for MBS ; check.
    Restore the main laser ; win.

    Judge Fear was particularly enthused to get that last requirement up and running, for lasers typically made short work of soft, squishy sinners. "It has been memorized," the fiend hissed. There will be no convenient forgetting on this day. Now, back to the present...

    The Dark Judge sensed someone approaching; someone... not at all like he was expecting. Swiveling his helm to face the store's rear entrance, the ghoul spotted a woman peeking from within the shadows. Her unease was quite appetizing... Judge Fear didn't return the greeting, nor did he drop a name. This woman, Jo as she was called, did not need to be privy with such delicate information. Instead, the Dark Judge curtly replied, "Sss..." It was not, as one could see, much of a warm response. Watching the technician move about with doubt and creeping dread was nothing short of satisfying. She smelled so young, so fresh... Already this woman was at the peak of her crime-infested existence. How rewarding it would be, present circumstances excluded, if Judge Fear could "save" her before the day met its end. These hopeful thoughts were rudely interrupted when the woman in question became particularly bold with her words. Nail clippers...?

    At hearing such absurdity, the Dark Judge nonchalantly leaned forward and brought his strange helm eye-to-eye with Jo's face. "No," growled the undead creature. To make matters much worse, Judge Fear's hardened nails dug themselves into the storefront's wood and audibly dragged. "I have come here for you to inspect a vehicle." The grave taught plenty of patience, but dealing with the living on an equal level was certainly not something the Dark Judge enjoyed.

    And now it seemed that the technician wanted paperwork...

    There was nothing more exasperating than having to waste precious time to appease official records, aside from sinners, but Judge Fear wordlessly complied. He observed the youthful woman set down a binder filled to the brim with individual forms and did not budge when she offered him a pen to write with. "..." Well, if he absolutely must. The Dark Judge went to task, his curled nails posing no issue, and he filled out everything to the best of his knowledge. There was just one complication, however...

    Model... blank.
    Year... blank.
    Manufacturer... blank.
    Weight/Height... blank.
    Engine Make... blank.

    He didn't know anything about K.A.R.R.'s specifics! The form lay blank before the Dark Judge, pen motionless, as the helm's gaze slowly picked itself up to look the woman directly in her brown, lively eyes.

    "Is this truly necessary?" Judge Fear inquired, his frustration rising. What good was filling out meaningless paperwork!? "None of this information is pertinent to the labour I require of you. What I need, technician, is a list of repairs waiting to be completed." Bah, bureaucracy! Nothing more than institutional procrastination and incompetence. The Dark Judge would not take no, or sass, for an answer. He bluntly continued, "The vehicle in question remains at the side of your business, where it awaits a skilled set of hands to restore its more significant functions. Are you familiar with Beta and Lambda circuitry, fuel tanks and engines, advanced scanning systems, plating reinforcement, and offensive weaponry?" A perfect reciting of what K.A.R.R. deemed pressing for its reconstruction.

    Assuming the technician was as skilled as those truckers had said, Judge Fear eagerly awaited her response and hoped that this visit was not a waste. In the meanwhile, should the technician formulate an educated reply, something appeared to skitter out from the Dark Judge's sleeves and crawl over his bony hands. Plump... Juicy... Cockroaches. They must have kept him company while in that coffin. Here, let him formally welcome them.

    CRUNCH!

    Without warning Judge Fear brought a vigilant fist down upon one unfortunate insect, the sound of its glistening shell loudly collapsing as its colourful guts spurted out in a messy, circular radius. "They didn't pay the rent," the Dark Judge shamelessly remarked, gaze still fixated upon Jo.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Jo Pistonne on Thu Oct 31, 2013 6:49 am

    ...This fellow wasn't a very personable guy, was he?

    Jo inched back, just slightly, at the tall man's creepy hissing. Was that, like, a condition or what? "Nice to meet you too." NOT. This was gonna be one of those customer's you had to help really quickly in order to never see them again, wasn't it? Yep, it was. Had to be, because this spook? Yeah, this spook was currently invading her personal space and looking her dead in the eyes. "It was just an honest question, sheesh! And hey, don't ruin the wood, pal! You want me to charge you for that!?" Who did this schmuck think he was, anyway? That ungodly smell was back and Jo didn't bother being polite this time around. She openly fanned the air and squeezed her nose shut, brow furrowing. Craters, it was like someone had opened up a coffin... "Yeah, yeah; you have a vehicle that needs fixing. I heard you the first time." Like, how could she not? "Just... fill out the paperwork and we'll go inspect your vehicle afterwards." That should have been relatively easy but guess what? The guy couldn't even fill out a single line!

    She resisted the increasing urge to smack her forehead, not believing her crummy luck. You see, Big Z? This is why Jo hated bothering with paperwork! It got customers all bothered and grumpy - especially when they didn't seem to know anything about their own vehicle. That detail in particular raised a few warning bells, but Jo decided to play it coy.

    "It's necessary if you want any work done," she replied, casually shifting her posture for something more unwavering. Why didn't this man know anything about his vehicle... Several things came to her mind. One: it could be stolen. Two: this helmeted guy was a regular bumpkin concerning machines. Or three: he really, really, really didn't like filling out forms. She was leaning more with two, seeing as how he didn't even write down his name. Tradeworld experience, don't fail her now. She nodded at the customer's list but otherwise didn't agree to repair anything. "Those are all fancy-schmancy words that I can definitely work some magic on, but I ain't doing a thing until you write down some personal information," Jo smoothly remarked. Hey, this was her shop so you gotta play by her rules. "If you don't comply, then I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to lea - ?" And that, ladies and gentlemen, is when Jo became distracted by something emerging out from the guy's uniform. Like a moth drawn to flame, the mechanic roamed her eyes downward and... and...

    Oh.

    My.

    Galaxy.

    Were... Were those a bunch of cockroaches crawling out from his SLEEVES!? It should be stated that Jo had a problem with bugs - like, a major problem with bugs. Ever since she was a little girl, Jo just could not handle bugs! A portion of the mechanic's lip began to twitch, her face draining of nearly all color. "You... You got something... on your sleeves..." A bunch of somethings at this -

    CRUNCH!

    ...HE DID NOT.

    He did, and little insect bits went flying. Jo practically jumped in place, her expression one of shock. He... He just crushed that poor cockroach on her counter and now there was bug guts everywhere! "E-Excuse me for a moment." The mechanic promptly left the store lobby and was never more relieved to disappear into the back area, where she immediately made a beeline for the establishment's only bathroom. Could you guess what she was going to do next?

    "BLEEEEEEUUUURGH!" Yeah... Jo really didn't handle bugs all that well.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Thu Oct 31, 2013 7:14 am

    More useless, wasteful talk! Could this woman repair K.A.R.R.'s functions or not!? The Dark Judge ceased giving the storefront a free engraving service but not because he feared the technician and her wrath. He merely desisted because Judge Fear didn't want to come out of pocket. The more funds for K.A.R.R.'s upgrades, the better. "I will not fill out any paperwork," the ghoul angrily hissed back, his patience starting to dwindle. "I need repairs; nothing more and nothing less!" Mortals and their futile desires to make sense of the world around them... Let the Dark Judge show you a helping of sense, woman! If only he could just reach out and stop her heart; to let her perish along all of that stubbornness! Seeing that this interaction was taking a sour route that would ultimately accomplish nothing, the Dark Judge felt it fitting to abruptly leave. He was done wasting time he - ? Wait... Wait, things were starting to become interesting.

    How humourous! The bullheaded technician known as Jo had a weak spot concerning measly insects! "Ssss...!" As tempting as it was to smash more of the crunchy pests right before her eyes, such an act would undoubtedly backfire. No, Judge Fear would have to settle with the bubbling satisfaction he felt at having repulsed the woman away. Oh... That's right, they still needed her to fix the vehicle. But now she had departed for the store's rear, which normally meant the technician could not be reached.

    Normally.

    Judge Fear was no mere, normal man. He barely waited ten seconds before deciding to follow the woman, the mantraps upon his shoulders quietly rubbing against the hall's narrow walls. The ghoul sensed your life, Jo... He sensed it well and, soon, the Dark Judge was upon the bathroom door.

    Ah, the aroma of fresh vomit; such an easy fear. Reaching out with a decrepit hand, the Dark Judge gently forced the door open and peered into the tiny waste closet. There Jo was, emptying out her stomach contents in a sink with wild abandon~! Unfortunate that she was not spitting out blood... Determined and not leaving here without securing those repairs, Judge Fear let himself in like a dark cloud and simply went - tap, tap, tap! - on the mechanic's quivering shoulder. "I am not finished with you," he hissed, pleased with this mortal's suffering.

    "The repairs," the Dark Judge resumed his previous demand. "I need them done. What will it take for you to inspect the vehicle and to give me an estimate?" The dead could be awfully persistent, Jo... Give up this fool's errand and obey Judge Fear!
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Jo Pistonne on Thu Oct 31, 2013 7:50 am

    That... That was the last time she ate two omelets for breakfast.

    Positively sick to her stomach, Jo weakly groaned while clutching the bathroom sink. "Auuuugh..." The smell of her own vomit wasn't helping, either. Close to hurling a second time, the mechanic used a wobbly hand to turn one of two knobs and rinsed everything away with a refreshing blast of cold water. Much, much better. She didn't have to keep staring at this morning's meal and now Jo could wash the paleness from her face. Yeah, let's do that. Not able to hear over the sound of running water, the mechanic cupped both hands together and tried to liven herself up. A splash there... Another splash here... Each attempt was rejuvenating her more and more, Jo starting to feel like her usual self again. You know, maybe this was just a really bad dream? Maybe after she wiped her face and went back out there, the creepy customer would be gone? Hopeful, Jo turned off the water and blindly reached for a nearby towel.

    Tap, tap, tap!

    ...Eh!?

    ARE YOU KIDDING wrote:"I am not finished with you."
    Jo immediately whirled around and threw herself against the bathroom's furthest wall from the door, that nauseating smell from before returning. "AHH! YOU CAN'T BE BACK HERE!" she loudly shouted. How!? What!? The nerve of this guy! Angrily and without thinking, the mechanic planted both of her hands upon the man's thin chest and shoved. "GET OUT!" Jo barked, no longer comfortable. "GET OUT, THIS AREA IS FOR EMPLOYEES ONLY!" Craters, why did this man feel so blasted cold...?

    The longer she was forced to be near this ghoulish man, the quicker Jo was beginning to feel deathly ill. It was like... It was like a plague had settled into the shop and now the mechanic was starting to come down with the chills! Still gruffly shoving, Jo tried to make as little physical contact as possible. Every time she touched him there was this horrific squelching noise; as if the man's body was nothing more than bone and rotten flesh! Ugh, she dreaded to think that a walking corpse had paid her a visit and Jo, herself, didn't believe in zombies. Knowing Portal Breach, however... There was a first time for everything and she tried not to inhale this invisible malaise. "I'll go inspect your crater viper-pickin' vehicle if it means you'll leave me alone!" Jo continued to hotly shout. Tenacious was written all over this guy but he was gonna meet his maker if he kept pushing her buttons like this.

    While she could kick this turd out and refuse him service, that may have undesirable consequences. As far as she could tell, the guy didn't do anything wrong aside from being plain unpleasant. Do you think he'll leave her alone for good if she repairs his vehicle? It was worth a shot and money was money.

    "Well? Are you going to show me your vehicle or not?" she grumbled.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Thu Oct 31, 2013 5:35 pm

    Sudden loud noises! The Dark Judge was not unfamiliar with screams or shouts as sinners could be quite noisy, but he wasn't expecting the technician to practically push him away like an unrequited lover. The things he endured because of vulnerability! "Hnngh..." Because he was undead and this was also not his original body, Judge Fear felt no pain or sensation as the technician thought to repeatedly hustle the ghoul backwards. She was for the most part successful, as the Dark Judge was nothing more than a bag of bones and pure twisted justice. Judge Fear loudly banged the back of his helm - BOK! - against the door frame due to his towering height and the Dark Judge began to dig in his bare heels. "Enough!" he forcefully returned, lengthy nails outstretched and poised to dig into supple flesh. "Cease your antics at once and remove your life-infested hands from my garb of office!" The sheer audacity of this woman was absolutely infuriating! If he had been at the height of his power already, then no living soul would dare raise a hand against him. Disrespect of the law at the highest degree!

    But if the technician thought the Dark Judge's torso was chilly, then she was in for an icy surprise when Judge Fear grabbed at her wrists and struggled to keep her at bay. Those talons that she adored so much gingerly pricked at her skin, tips sharp enough to draw blood if he so desired. It would be a shame if one of her veins were sliced open due to clumsiness... "Then are we at an agreement?" Judge Fear hissed. If the Dark Judge's intimidating presence was not enough to sway mortals, then perhaps he will have to invest more time in simply grossing them out. Whichever came first, the woman's reluctant submission was a sign of things going his way.

    For once.

    It would appear that the technician had, at last, agreed to inspect K.A.R.R. and see what work needed to be done. Excellent! The Dark Judge let go of the woman and her disgustingly-warm skin, no longer seeing reason to stay back here any longer. "Good, now come," he ordered. Judge Fear about-faced straight away and strode out from the store's rear hall, cape snapping with a loud crack as it trailed behind him. They had already wasted enough time with this charming exchange. Shoving past the front door and rounding the building's corner, the Dark Judge stepped aside and gestured at the two-toned vehicle with a sweeping hand.

    "Behold the vehicle," the fiend introduced, voice hardly above a faint whisper. "This is what I require you to repair, technician. Can you perform the necessary restoration?" Whatever this vehicle was, it was fairly unassuming and rather... mundane. Did the technician wonder if Judge Fear drove a hearse or corpse car, he wondered?
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by K.A.R.R. on Thu Oct 31, 2013 6:30 pm

    What was he doing in there?

    Shortly after the slender lawman had disappeared inside, KARR decided it prudent to keep his engines running. Mostly in case of the negotiations going sour, and he had to bail out the ghoul. Though in this case he may as well wait until he came running out with what he was hearing from inside. Yelling, hissing, rude demands... Issues with paperwork. "Perhaps I should have dealt with the technician myself." The AI sighed inwardly. His surveillance mode managed to pick up some rather interesting footage to store away for later, and maybe lecture the ghoul on some proper consumer skills once he returned. Surprisingly, it seemed that even with Judge Fear's behavior he managed to get the one known as Jo outside to take a look at him.

    Immediately he silenced his turbines, observing the human as she emerged from the chop shop's doors. Interesting, the woman nearly resembled the technician that was hired by FLAG, save for the obvious differences. To stay silent or speak? Given the nature of the establishment and their needs for arrival, it was logical that she would inevitably find out about his AI sooner or later. For now though he said nothing, better to let her cool down a little before making conversation.

    The gleam of his black and silver paneling shone in what sunlight made it into the drive, amber scanner pacing back and forth as the AI surveyed the area. This was no corpse car or hearse, but a sleek and smooth machine of great power! At least it would be after it got some attention from skilled hands.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Jo Pistonne on Fri Nov 01, 2013 3:56 am

    Oh no... Oh no. This guy thought he could boss her around!

    Jo immediately retrieved the wrench out from her pocket and waved it around the customer's grinning facade. "Don't even think about bossing me around! I'm the head mechanic of this shop! The queen of my castle! You keep that attitude up and I'm going to recalibrate your vehicle into a barely-functioning can opener!" Normally she didn't make threats to people she didn't know, but this guy? Oh yeah, this guy was just barely one more derisive remark to getting his bony ass handed to him. Would he prefer a silver platter or something more durable? There was a sale going on for titanium. "And yes, we have an agreement, Oh Odorous One. But I'm going to walk there myself." And strut her stuff Jo did. She shoved her way past the walking stinker and went out the door, not bothering to hold it out for him. Rudey Patoodies get no manners, no sir! That disposition changed, of course, when the mechanic finally laid eyes upon the customer's ride.

    "Ooh! Sweet set of rims!" she remarked, fairly surprised. At least it wasn't a hearse, right? Jo walked around the vehicle once, her mind labeling it as an Earthen car, and was not disappointed throughout her inspections. The mechanic knelt down on all floors and peeked at the vehicle's underside, slightly whistling. "Hmm, not a bad package you got here... I can see where there's a bit of damage from rough use, but it's otherwise one immaculate piece of work." Getting back up and dusting her hands, Jo leaned and tried to inspect the car's interior.

    So many winking lights and buttons! It was a good thing the window was up and the door locked, because Jo felt her fingers starting to inch. "So, you need a few advanced repairs, right?" she asked, straightening up to glance back at the customer. Huh, she didn't notice the dangling badge on his uniform...

    Fear? That was kind of a funny name. Who had a last name called Fear? Maybe it was a nickname...

    "Well, I got some good news and some bad news for you," Jo continued, ignoring that previous cruiser of thought for now. The mechanic leaned against her store's brick wall and crossed both arms, slightly pleased with something. "Knowing your crummy attitude, though, I suspect you'd want the bad news first."
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by Fear on Fri Nov 01, 2013 4:16 am

    A wrench? She dared to wave a wrench in front of his face? "Hnnngh, I will not forget this, technician!" threatened Judge Fear. He may not be a powerhouse at the current moment but just you wait, woman. Once that limit was reached, the Dark Judge was going to return this favour in kind threefold. You do not disrespect a Judge of the law in this regard! There were many things he could have said out of retaliation but more arguing would only spawn further delays. For the sake of both K.A.R.R. and himself, the uniformed fiend stayed his tongue and bickered no more. The thought of getting this technician back with full power was enough to satiate the Dark Judge's ill thoughts for now. He followed her wordlessly and momentarily paused as a trio of energetic, ripe children skipped by with a bouncing ball. Oh what fun it would have been if the children's toy somehow wound its way into the adjacent busy street... Wishful thinking, wishful thinking.

    What is this about sweet rims...? Judge Fear assumed the unladylike technician was referring to K.A.R.R.'s tires, which he didn't see reason to address and instead resumed watching the children from before play their game. Her observation about the damage to K.A.R.R.'s undercarriage, however, could not be left undisturbed. "I hit a few... bumps on the road," he hissed, satisfied with the double meaning. That satisfaction only grew when the woman affirmed that she could, indeed, perform the necessary maintenance work.

    Good news?
    Bad news?

    "My dear technician, watching a populated city go to work every morning can be considered bad news," he kindly, if not sarcastically, returned. This meant that the Dark Judge had not adequately finished his job, see. Letting the children run out of his sight for the time being, Judge Fear glanced at the silent K.A.R.R. and then back at the smirking woman. And what did she find so entertaining? "I am not concerned with any news you have for me. Tell me the price of these repairs, how long they will take, and what will be the extent of your service. The more concise and obedient you shall be, the less unpleasant I shall make your day." She was right about the crummy attitude, at least.
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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

    Post by K.A.R.R. on Fri Nov 01, 2013 4:54 am

    Oh good, some form of equal footing in this... Negotiation. It seemed the mechanic was a fan of vehicles, a trait that would do nicely with the AI. The vehicle stayed still as Jo walked around and made her inspection, looking at his rims, kneeling to look at the undercarriage. Wait, bumps? Surely that could not be true, his body was covered above and below in MBS paneling! Alas, with a scan of himself it seemed that her observation was correct, yet another symptom of saltwater corrosion. Hopefully that could be fixed as well. She moved on to look inside his interior, browsing over his gauges and buttons with rather attentive eyes.

    She would need to be supervised while sitting in his cockpit if need be, closely supervised.

    That is, if the Dark Judge would even reign in his pride to let her feel more willing to work around him. Why was he staring at the kids, how was hinting that he would like to see the populace dead getting the AI any closer to new parts? As the feuding two drew towards the good and bad news of the situation, perhaps now would be the better time to intervene before his driver shooed away Jo with his insufferable shop manners.

    "Please, heed him no mind." KARR interjected calmly. "I apologize for my associate's behavior, he is recovering from a rather nasty illness and it has left him bitter." Isn't that right, Judge Fear? Just look at his greening complexion and withered form. The AI returned his attention to the mechanic, composure unfaltering. "I understand that there was an issue with the paperwork, if there are any details that may need assistance, I will be glad to answer your questions and help you along with my systems that may need further identification and guidance." As for the good and bad news however, the AI had a feeling it had something to do either with the aforementioned technology, or more likely with the behavior of Judge Fear's part.

    Yes, more than likely it would, after further analysis..."If you wish, you may discuss our business further with me. I had asked my driver to go in because he was more... Equipped for transactions. Had I known he would treat you so poorly, I would have spoken with you myself." It was hard for a being with no hands to hold a pen, and even harder when their body did not fit through the front door. "Now then." He nearly purred, the passenger side door opening with a click and swinging aside to offer her a seat. "Shall we go on with the dealings of both good and bad news, Head Mechanic?"

    Just don't push any buttons.

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    Re: We Hope You Accept Frequent Murder Miles

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