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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)