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capeandcowllogs2010-01-17 07:33 pm
itsprotocol.livejournal.com) wrote in capeandcowllogs2010-01-17 07:33 pm
Entry tags:
STALKERY STING LYRICS
WHO: Larfleeze and Salaak
WHERE: From a coffee shot to the poor, unfortunate Lantern apartment
WHEN: 1/17 late afternoon!
WARNINGS: Larfleeze
SUMMARY: ...lmfao
FORMAT: No
Blasted cold.
Salaak didn't go out much in general, but the current climate made the outdoors even less appealing with his all-too-sensitive human body. Still, that body required a lot more than a few hours of sleep to stay active and functional. Caffiene was all that kept him working at times--suspiciously addictive, too, but it seemed to be a rather well-accepted chemical, considering the shop across the street's core products centered around it. Convenient enough; Salaak had no desire to wander far from his work in the state he was.
By now, he'd gotten adjusted to the procedures: walk lights, vending lines, currency exchange...Hardly rocket science. How unfortunate that the vendors had a hard time keeping up with the process. For instance, this particular day found one of their coffee machines in need of maitenence, slowing up the production of drinks. He received a few bland, exasperated apologies as he paid for a drink he would not receive right away, and was encouraged to move to a side to wait his turn. There was no choice, then.
What a bother. Salaak sighed, seating himself at a table and watching the workers tinker away at the broken equipment. Perhaps if they were to offer him a look at the schematics, he could fix it quicker...ah, no. Not with these hands. Too few, too many digits.
A buzzing came from his jacket pocket. Salaak dug into both sides, withdrawing four of the standard-issue communicators that all the imPorts received, glancing across the screens for the source of the signal. Never a quiet moment...a comforting thing, at least.
WHERE: From a coffee shot to the poor, unfortunate Lantern apartment
WHEN: 1/17 late afternoon!
WARNINGS: Larfleeze
SUMMARY: ...lmfao
FORMAT: No
Blasted cold.
Salaak didn't go out much in general, but the current climate made the outdoors even less appealing with his all-too-sensitive human body. Still, that body required a lot more than a few hours of sleep to stay active and functional. Caffiene was all that kept him working at times--suspiciously addictive, too, but it seemed to be a rather well-accepted chemical, considering the shop across the street's core products centered around it. Convenient enough; Salaak had no desire to wander far from his work in the state he was.
By now, he'd gotten adjusted to the procedures: walk lights, vending lines, currency exchange...Hardly rocket science. How unfortunate that the vendors had a hard time keeping up with the process. For instance, this particular day found one of their coffee machines in need of maitenence, slowing up the production of drinks. He received a few bland, exasperated apologies as he paid for a drink he would not receive right away, and was encouraged to move to a side to wait his turn. There was no choice, then.
What a bother. Salaak sighed, seating himself at a table and watching the workers tinker away at the broken equipment. Perhaps if they were to offer him a look at the schematics, he could fix it quicker...ah, no. Not with these hands. Too few, too many digits.
A buzzing came from his jacket pocket. Salaak dug into both sides, withdrawing four of the standard-issue communicators that all the imPorts received, glancing across the screens for the source of the signal. Never a quiet moment...a comforting thing, at least.
no subject
And when he took out four of those communicators?
Goodbye Bob Fleeze. Hello, Larfleeze.
Stealing a cup of whatever-these-fleshbags-drank off of a tray, Larfleeze shifts into his natural form. Bristling, he floated over to the lantern, hovering above his shoulder and staring at the communicators.
"Give them to me."
no subject
"ACH--!"
Such a startling sight right in his face causes him to jerk, scrambling aside and nearly toppling over the table. It scattered two of the four, and sent the other two close to hand.
"What the--?!"