*drums fingers on CRATE OF MODIFIED HELMETS* <yep, good old spartan.......always takeing one for the team> *takes off helmet and scratches ears while he waits.......and waits*
There is a bar, which has a few neon lights on. There is a few bar stools there, and a bottle of vodka on the counter. A voice resounds through the room, "Take a seat."
*CalPal takes a seat and rests both of his arms on the table, leaning back just slightly enough to double-check that his pistol still looked to be in decent firing condition.*
"Making your way up in the world, I see?" Oh god, that pun was so unintentionally bad that it was almost amazing. Almost.
A man walks out of the kitchen, he has a robotic eye, and a mechanical arm. He has a trench coat on, and sub machine gun at his hip. :That was a good one, I'll have to write that down." He pours you a shot of vodka,"So, what brings you here?"
"Supplies, maybe a contact or two on this planet, not so sure about the last one..."
*CalPal takes the drink and puts it to his mouth as he leans back, swallowing all the vodka in one shot as he slams the shot glass back on the table.*
"Not so easy to get either done when you have a grey mist covering most of this city, especially when said mist is pretty much lethal on exposure." Umm, should - should you have drunk that shot there? Couldn't it be poisoned? I mean, I think this guy is smart enough to know how poisons work. He works a bar, after all...
"... Well, with a pressure switch, I guess poison wouldn't be necessary in the first place." You probably can't hear it, but I'm facepalming so hard over here. You really did go fuck yourself into this position. "But I guess this is all just petty conversation we're having, so how about we skip straight to the big questions: either you're the man responsible for this grey mist, or you know the guy who is. Which is it?"
"Well, I didn't create the mist...but I brought it here. It didn't take much to smuggle it out from Freyja during the attack. Did you ever stop to think of what I was doing at the Gemini facility the night you infiltrated their Gala?"
"... I have to admit, I just thought you were a friendly face there to help out. So, that was some product of ONI you stole that night. You bring it to this planet, then use it. What are you seeking to achieve by unleashing the mist onto these people? A simple terrorist act? Or maybe another diversion?"
*spartan gears up and loads the crates into a pelican* <okay, im not feeling comfortable with all of this. nanites, good or bad are not things to mess with.> *checks pelican's systems and recieves greens across the board* <i got all the gear ready, call me and ill be groundside in 5 mikes>
"It was a perfect role, one where I could use you as my cover. You have seen glimpses of what I seek Calvin, shadows of something greater. No, a simple terrorist act would not suffice, and would be foolish to pursue such short minded options. Though, you'll figure it out after you stand up."
"Mhm, I guess I'm definitely stuck here for the time being then... tell me, how powerful are the explosives I'm sitting on? Enough to tear this whole restaurant and everything inside it apart, or just enough to tear me in half?" You know, I would think you'd be smart enough to realize this guy isn't exactly all that stupid. I mean, he should be able to walk away without worrying about your fat ass getting out of the seat, right?
"It's a directional charge, enough to get through your armor, and to liquify your organs, but I could disarm it for you, you just need to go deeper into the complex,and board the elevator."
"Looks like somethin's already been disarmed. Heh!" *Mocking Ninth's prosthetic limb while walking towards the bar.* "Now tell me." *Pausing to hop over said bar to look for other bottles.* " Do you have anything else to drink?"
"Mhm... and what's waiting for us in the elevator?" Does any part of this scream 'bad idea' to you? Because I was already expecting the worst the moment you sat down at this bar. Seriously, fuck you if I die again. For the last time.
*Land several feet away in a pile of chairs.* 'Ow.' "I had no idea you were a Hipster... That explains a lot actually." *Stand up and dust myself off.*
"... Can - can I leave this seat now?" The Commanding Officer demanded in an authoritative but calming voice, without any fault in his speech. "I'd like to see you sit on a freakin' mine." Well, if you prefer if I go technical and such, I'm doing that right now. "Oh fuck you, Alex." Whoa there feller. Is that them fighting words? I think we ought to take this outside. Preferably at 43 km/h in multiple directions. Hee hee hee...
