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V
VengefulPeanut
Guest
Interactions: N/A | Location: Boston Harbour
The sound of a loud fog horn caused the nearby birds to scarper to the skies, a rude interruption to otherwise peaceful sounds of the waves lapping against the dock. Heading into the midst of the shipping area, Aiden shielded his eyes from the sun, taking a moment to admire Fort Independence in the distance. Dock workers moved from place to place, helping with the loading and unloading of items. Of course, most of them were synths, so his presence wasn't met with any scrutiny. Approaching a single, small shipping crate, Aiden took his sunglasses from his pocket, placing them on to try and conceal a little bit of his identity without looking too suspicious. A single, human dock worker sat analysing the crate.
"Excuse me," Aiden called out to the man, causing him to look in Aiden's direction. "I need this crate. I don't suppose that's problem, is it?"
"Oh yeah?" the worker asked, sceptically, looking him up and down. "You got the papers for it?"
"Unfortunately, no, I don't," Aiden sighed, scratching the back of his head. "Must be hard, though," he observed, looking about the dockyard. "All these synths taking most of the jobs, must be really scary from a financial perspective."
"I suppose it is. What's it to you?" the man responded, narrowing his eyes with suspicion.
"You open this crate and let me have the contents and I let you have the $200 sitting in my pocket," Aiden answered, coolly. That was another advantage to the sunglasses: his expressions would give nothing away.
"This crate that important to you? Well, okay then," the man conceded, turning to the crate and preparing to pry it open. As the lid fell to the floor, the man's eyes widened with shock. "What the…" he gasped.
"This is Pierre," Aiden smiled. "Couldn't get him through customs normally. Y'know… all those snooty people wanting to analyse your synth. You try getting them to let him in the country when he can only speak French." The man seemed more confused than ever, shaking his head.
"Look, whatever," he grumbled. "Just take your synth and get out of here before I get into trouble. Oh… and… my $200, please."
"Of course, my good man," Aiden said chirpily, presenting the previously agreed amount. The man wasted no time snatching it into his wallet, nodding in thanks before walking off. Aiden leaned down, tapping the synth under the chin to activate it. "Peter, you okay?" he asked, the synth's eyes opening.
"If you had been stuck in a crate for the whole length of the Atlantic, how would you feel?" the synth responded, smarmily.
"Probably be dead from a lack of water. You know… that thing humans need and synths don't?" Aiden responded, equally as snippy. A wry smile painted its way across the synths lips as he clambered out of the crate.
"It's good to see you again," he said warmly, extending his hand out to Aiden.
"Forget that," Aiden replied, knocking the synths hand aside and pulling him into a warm hug. "It's good to see you again too, brother."
"So… this is America? Interesting country, from what I've learned," Peter said, cleaning the lenses of his glasses and putting them on.
"Glasses?" Aiden asked, confused.
"Figured it'd help my disguise. Quite the ingenious idea I had, really. Nobody would expect a synth to need aid from optical enhancement accessories," Peter boasted, proudly.
"Pretty cool," Aiden confessed, puffing out his cheeks to show his general impartiality. "Anyway," he continued. "We haven't got long before that dock worker figures out I just swindled him with $200's worth of fake bills. Let's get out of here." Aiden turned on his heel, pointing with both hands and a smile towards the exit.
"Aiden…" Peter spoke, holding his position for a moment. "I sustained damage recently that will need seeing to."
"Oh? Well, we can't take you to any of the synth mechanics here. They'll realise you shouldn't be in this country," Aiden commented. "What's the damage?"
"I believe my charging port has become faulty. I haven't being able to reach maximum capacity charge in the usual time it takes. I believe I have become quite like your human legends – the vampire – hibernating for long periods of time."
"Well, as long as you haven't started sucking blood then we're all good. I know someone who could help you out," Aiden said, walking back and grabbing him by the shoulder to pull him along. "I'm going to take you to meet a young friend of mine. I think you'll like her."
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- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- I am online from 5:00 Am to around 10:30 AM Fridays through Tuesdays due to work so post will be in between those times.
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- Preferred Character Gender
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- I'm up for anything
Adrian White
[spoili]
[/spoili]
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He'd been on the road for three days and two night at this point, only stopping for gas and to sleep. The trip wasn't hard but the stillness was, he had to stop to sleep and every time he wasn't moving it felt like a waste. His thoughts drifted to the last clue to John's whereabouts, he'd found a dinner in Pittsfield just after he had crossed over from New York now he knew John well enough that the conscious Synth would look for work in a dinner after all he was good at it. Anyway, he had talked to the dinner's owner who said a rather effeminate looking young man had been working there for a few weeks until he suddenly picked up and left and when Adrian asked for a description of the man he had described John to a tee. As Adrian was lost in his thoughts he did not notice that his speed was slowly creeping up nor did he notice the state trooper creeping up behind him either, next think Adrian knew their were bright cherry and blueberry colored lights behind him and his speedometer read out seventy five mile per hour and he was in a sixty mile per hour zone. "Shit." He thought as he pulled over to the curb.
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Adrian turned off his motorcycle and waited for the officer, it didn't take long for the officer to step out of his vehicle and to walk up to Adrian. The officer had a pair of old school aviators on. "Do you know why I...damn son you look like hammer shit." The officer spoke to Adrian. "Oh good he ain't an asshole." Adrian thought before speaking.
"Been a rough couple of days officer." Adrian said as he got out his license and registration and handed it to the officer.
"Arizona? You're a long way for home Mr...White. Why are you out here on my roads doing seventy five in a sixty?" The officer asked with a bit of bite his speech, trying to determine if this biker was going to be an issue or not.
"Sorry officer I...I've been looking for a friend, he said he was heading east and the last time I saw him was in New Mexico. Followed his trail to Amarillo in Texas, then in Oklahoma City Next was St.Louis after that his trail went cold until I got to Fort Wayne in Indiana." Adrian paused for a second before continuing. "I missed him by an hour in Ann Arbor over in Michigan then I lost him again, by dumb luck I found a lead in Pittsfield where a dinner owner said my friend had worked there for a few weeks before leaving for Boston and so here I am unless my friend decides to swim to the UK." Adrian finished telling the officer the condensed version of his tale. "I don't know why he ran, couldn't tell if he was in any danger or not otherwise I would of went to the cops but he never gave me any indication he was in trouble." That was a partial lie on Adrian's part, he knew very well he wouldn't be able to go to the cops with this because of what John was.
"Well maybe he was trying to get away from you?" The officer asked slash accused.
"Hmm, maybe but if that had been the case why would he keep bouncing East? Or get the law involved?" Adrian knew the answer to the second question.
"Hmm." The officer didn't say anything more.
He let Adrian off with a warning and sent him on his way letting Adrian get into Boston proper. He found his way to a hotel where he checked himself in for an indefinite amount of time, he settled in and began looking for any auto repair places that could use an extra set of hands. All before he could look for John.
[spoili]
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He'd been on the road for three days and two night at this point, only stopping for gas and to sleep. The trip wasn't hard but the stillness was, he had to stop to sleep and every time he wasn't moving it felt like a waste. His thoughts drifted to the last clue to John's whereabouts, he'd found a dinner in Pittsfield just after he had crossed over from New York now he knew John well enough that the conscious Synth would look for work in a dinner after all he was good at it. Anyway, he had talked to the dinner's owner who said a rather effeminate looking young man had been working there for a few weeks until he suddenly picked up and left and when Adrian asked for a description of the man he had described John to a tee. As Adrian was lost in his thoughts he did not notice that his speed was slowly creeping up nor did he notice the state trooper creeping up behind him either, next think Adrian knew their were bright cherry and blueberry colored lights behind him and his speedometer read out seventy five mile per hour and he was in a sixty mile per hour zone. "Shit." He thought as he pulled over to the curb.
-
Adrian turned off his motorcycle and waited for the officer, it didn't take long for the officer to step out of his vehicle and to walk up to Adrian. The officer had a pair of old school aviators on. "Do you know why I...damn son you look like hammer shit." The officer spoke to Adrian. "Oh good he ain't an asshole." Adrian thought before speaking.
"Been a rough couple of days officer." Adrian said as he got out his license and registration and handed it to the officer.
"Arizona? You're a long way for home Mr...White. Why are you out here on my roads doing seventy five in a sixty?" The officer asked with a bit of bite his speech, trying to determine if this biker was going to be an issue or not.
"Sorry officer I...I've been looking for a friend, he said he was heading east and the last time I saw him was in New Mexico. Followed his trail to Amarillo in Texas, then in Oklahoma City Next was St.Louis after that his trail went cold until I got to Fort Wayne in Indiana." Adrian paused for a second before continuing. "I missed him by an hour in Ann Arbor over in Michigan then I lost him again, by dumb luck I found a lead in Pittsfield where a dinner owner said my friend had worked there for a few weeks before leaving for Boston and so here I am unless my friend decides to swim to the UK." Adrian finished telling the officer the condensed version of his tale. "I don't know why he ran, couldn't tell if he was in any danger or not otherwise I would of went to the cops but he never gave me any indication he was in trouble." That was a partial lie on Adrian's part, he knew very well he wouldn't be able to go to the cops with this because of what John was.
"Well maybe he was trying to get away from you?" The officer asked slash accused.
"Hmm, maybe but if that had been the case why would he keep bouncing East? Or get the law involved?" Adrian knew the answer to the second question.
"Hmm." The officer didn't say anything more.
He let Adrian off with a warning and sent him on his way letting Adrian get into Boston proper. He found his way to a hotel where he checked himself in for an indefinite amount of time, he settled in and began looking for any auto repair places that could use an extra set of hands. All before he could look for John.
J
JJ
Guest
Sparks from the sautering iron, hot and bright and yellow as the sun, flared up, illuminating the dark room more than the pale flickering bulb in the centre ever could. Charlie leaned over the table, machine in hand, peering down at the "patient" on the table. Another boosted Synth in need of rewiring was another meal she could put on the table, another batch of stolen parts she could buy and turn around to sell for higher. It was a good little setup she had here. Her "customers" were loyal. As loyal as a bunch of thieves and criminals could be, anyway. This life suited her just fine. Far more, at least, than living in a million-dollar farmhouse on the other side of the city.
Just across the street, a fiery spirited urchin was swiftly guided out of the police station. Two officers held her by the arms and pushed her towards the sidewalk, discarding her coat with a disgruntled snort.
"Get out of 'ere, kid. You'd be in jail if it weren't for yer friend."
The 'kid' was called Red Harville, she was frequently in and out of the station yet they rarely kept her long. For someone who rarely attended her classes, she was smart. Her main charge was theft, petty theft at that, but by some miraculous twist of fate, whenever she got caught, they could never find the stolen items on her person. No stolen property? No crime. That and her mother was close friends with the sergeant at their local station.
"Alright, I'm goin'. Gees…" The redhead moved down the steps of the station and picked up her coat, scowling back at the officers and rolling her eyes. "Hospitable as always, gentlemen."
"Whatever, just get lost before we find another reason to haul your ass back here." The officers disappeared back inside the station without giving Red a second glance, clearly fed up with having to deal with her over and over. Once they were inside, Red smirked to herself and slipped into her coat, chuckling at the idiocy of the police department. It wasn't difficult to catch a kid but they ran out of steam by the time it came to the prosecution.
Moving down the street, Red slipped into the side alley by the station, looking around to check nobody was around to see her remove the brick in the wall. Behind it was a trove of stolen treasures, ranging from smart phones to watches to pieces of machinery that she had no idea about its' purpose. Picking up as much as she could, she stuffed it inside her coat and winced as she was jabbed in the side by a stick of RAM. "You better be grateful for this, Miss Charlotte..." She murmured to herself, somewhat bitter about the work she did for her friend. In reality, she didn't mind at all. In fact, she was fonder of the child-mechanic than she wanted to let on. Which was why Red constantly found herself rummaging for more Synth parts than actual valuables.
The short walk from the station to Charlie's garage was made shorter by the number of short cuts she'd learnt in her time on the streets. She made it to the door in under ten minutes, pushing it open with her back as she braced herself from the sparks flying from Charlie's iron. "Hey." Red called over the noise, banging her foot against the work bench to alert Charlie of her arrival. "Hey, asshole, I got your shit."
Pushing back the makeshift eye protection, that was merely a pair of dark glasses stitched into a leather and plastic mask, Charlie wiped the sweat from her brow and turned the machine off, retreating a few steps to one of the ratty armchairs she'd salvaged a few weeks back, and leaning down to snatch a bottle of water off the floor. "'Bout time." She grinned at Red, pulling the mask off the rest of the way and letting it drop to the floor. "You get pinched again?" She stretched her arms up over her head, loosening some of the tension that had gathered while she was hunched over the synth on the table. At some point she'd need to get a better setup, but what she had now had gotten her far, and she appreciated it.
"You say that like its a bad thing. Each time they nick me, is a case against them and that damn precinct." Red grinned to herself and put her finds on the work bench, tucking her loose curls behind her ear. "Alright, I got you all sorts. So many Synth nuts down by the harbor today. You wouldn't believe." Turning to face her friend, the redhead smirked and raised a brow. "Maybe there's a nerd convention goin' on or somethin.'" Red glanced at Charlie and took note of every patch of dirt on the girl's face. It added character, she thought. "You gonna take a look? I ain't got a clue what any of this shit does."
"You would if you let me teach you." Charlie replied smartly, rising from the armchair and taking a swig from the water bottle. "It's really not that difficult." Crossing the space between them, she put the bottle down on the table and picked up the pieces Red had brought her one by one, inspecting them for usefulness. Most of them were just basic pieces, but a few of them were actually some nicely advanced tech, pieces she didn't need right now but it would be good to have on hand when she did need them. "These are great, thanks. I owe ya! Wanna go to lunch or something? I have a few extra bucks."
"I don't need to learn this shit, you're the brains here." Red picked up one of the pieces before discarding it back on the pile. It meant nothing to her. She'd seen the mess that the Synth business had gotten her mum into and she wasn't prepared to get anymore involved in it. She only did this much because Charlie had needed help back when she started up and it had become a habit she didn't mind having. Glancing over at Charlie, she pouted her lips and raised a brow. "Are you asking me out? Like a lunch date? That's cute."
Charlie rolled her eyes, flinging a loose bolt at Red from across the room as she searched for her jacket among piles of discarded machinery. "Listen, if you'd rather have lunch elsewhere, I'll eat the damn pizza myself."
"Hey..." She dodged the bolt and watched it bounce on the concrete floor before looking back at her friend. "I never say no to pizza."
"That's what I thought." Finally locating her jacket, which had been tucked in between an armchair and the wall, she shrugged it over her shoulders and ran fingers through her hair. "I really need to invest in a mirror." She turned towards Red, raising her brows. "How do I look?"
Red's mind was caught for a moment. She was always watching Charlie when they were together, always thinking about how nice she looked but never actually voiced it. "You..." Her words stalled and it took a her a couple moments to get it together. Clearing her throat, she started again. "You look fine. Pfft, you think anyone cares what a street rat looks like? We ain't gotta impress nobody. Let's go, kid."
Just across the street, a fiery spirited urchin was swiftly guided out of the police station. Two officers held her by the arms and pushed her towards the sidewalk, discarding her coat with a disgruntled snort.
"Get out of 'ere, kid. You'd be in jail if it weren't for yer friend."
The 'kid' was called Red Harville, she was frequently in and out of the station yet they rarely kept her long. For someone who rarely attended her classes, she was smart. Her main charge was theft, petty theft at that, but by some miraculous twist of fate, whenever she got caught, they could never find the stolen items on her person. No stolen property? No crime. That and her mother was close friends with the sergeant at their local station.
"Alright, I'm goin'. Gees…" The redhead moved down the steps of the station and picked up her coat, scowling back at the officers and rolling her eyes. "Hospitable as always, gentlemen."
"Whatever, just get lost before we find another reason to haul your ass back here." The officers disappeared back inside the station without giving Red a second glance, clearly fed up with having to deal with her over and over. Once they were inside, Red smirked to herself and slipped into her coat, chuckling at the idiocy of the police department. It wasn't difficult to catch a kid but they ran out of steam by the time it came to the prosecution.
Moving down the street, Red slipped into the side alley by the station, looking around to check nobody was around to see her remove the brick in the wall. Behind it was a trove of stolen treasures, ranging from smart phones to watches to pieces of machinery that she had no idea about its' purpose. Picking up as much as she could, she stuffed it inside her coat and winced as she was jabbed in the side by a stick of RAM. "You better be grateful for this, Miss Charlotte..." She murmured to herself, somewhat bitter about the work she did for her friend. In reality, she didn't mind at all. In fact, she was fonder of the child-mechanic than she wanted to let on. Which was why Red constantly found herself rummaging for more Synth parts than actual valuables.
The short walk from the station to Charlie's garage was made shorter by the number of short cuts she'd learnt in her time on the streets. She made it to the door in under ten minutes, pushing it open with her back as she braced herself from the sparks flying from Charlie's iron. "Hey." Red called over the noise, banging her foot against the work bench to alert Charlie of her arrival. "Hey, asshole, I got your shit."
Pushing back the makeshift eye protection, that was merely a pair of dark glasses stitched into a leather and plastic mask, Charlie wiped the sweat from her brow and turned the machine off, retreating a few steps to one of the ratty armchairs she'd salvaged a few weeks back, and leaning down to snatch a bottle of water off the floor. "'Bout time." She grinned at Red, pulling the mask off the rest of the way and letting it drop to the floor. "You get pinched again?" She stretched her arms up over her head, loosening some of the tension that had gathered while she was hunched over the synth on the table. At some point she'd need to get a better setup, but what she had now had gotten her far, and she appreciated it.
"You say that like its a bad thing. Each time they nick me, is a case against them and that damn precinct." Red grinned to herself and put her finds on the work bench, tucking her loose curls behind her ear. "Alright, I got you all sorts. So many Synth nuts down by the harbor today. You wouldn't believe." Turning to face her friend, the redhead smirked and raised a brow. "Maybe there's a nerd convention goin' on or somethin.'" Red glanced at Charlie and took note of every patch of dirt on the girl's face. It added character, she thought. "You gonna take a look? I ain't got a clue what any of this shit does."
"You would if you let me teach you." Charlie replied smartly, rising from the armchair and taking a swig from the water bottle. "It's really not that difficult." Crossing the space between them, she put the bottle down on the table and picked up the pieces Red had brought her one by one, inspecting them for usefulness. Most of them were just basic pieces, but a few of them were actually some nicely advanced tech, pieces she didn't need right now but it would be good to have on hand when she did need them. "These are great, thanks. I owe ya! Wanna go to lunch or something? I have a few extra bucks."
"I don't need to learn this shit, you're the brains here." Red picked up one of the pieces before discarding it back on the pile. It meant nothing to her. She'd seen the mess that the Synth business had gotten her mum into and she wasn't prepared to get anymore involved in it. She only did this much because Charlie had needed help back when she started up and it had become a habit she didn't mind having. Glancing over at Charlie, she pouted her lips and raised a brow. "Are you asking me out? Like a lunch date? That's cute."
Charlie rolled her eyes, flinging a loose bolt at Red from across the room as she searched for her jacket among piles of discarded machinery. "Listen, if you'd rather have lunch elsewhere, I'll eat the damn pizza myself."
"Hey..." She dodged the bolt and watched it bounce on the concrete floor before looking back at her friend. "I never say no to pizza."
"That's what I thought." Finally locating her jacket, which had been tucked in between an armchair and the wall, she shrugged it over her shoulders and ran fingers through her hair. "I really need to invest in a mirror." She turned towards Red, raising her brows. "How do I look?"
Red's mind was caught for a moment. She was always watching Charlie when they were together, always thinking about how nice she looked but never actually voiced it. "You..." Her words stalled and it took a her a couple moments to get it together. Clearing her throat, she started again. "You look fine. Pfft, you think anyone cares what a street rat looks like? We ain't gotta impress nobody. Let's go, kid."
V
VengefulPeanut
Guest
Interactions: Charlie, Red | Location: Charlie's Shop
The journey through Boston had been easy enough. Peter had been sentient long enough that blending in with humans was about as natural as breathing. Aiden had neglected to tell him exactly where they were going or who he was taking the synth to, however. It was something that had set the Peter on edge while they rode the public transport system.
Heading down towards the entrance to Charlie's 'shop', Peter decided to try his luck in asking one more time.
"What exactly is this place?"
"This is somewhere we'll be able to get your charging port fixed without any questions being asked," Aiden answered, still slightly cryptically. The two kept walking at a steady pace but before they reached the door, Aiden grabbed Peter by the shoulder, pulling him to a halt before moving in close and lowering his tone. "Listen, this girl won't ask any questions, but she doesn't have any idea about what you really are. You're gonna need to lose the glasses and contacts."
"But I like my glasses. They make me look intellectually superior," Peter protested, retreating from Aiden slightly. "Can't you just say it's some kind of inventive mod you've created?"
"Sorry, mate, the girl's young, not stupid. Come on, hand them over," Aiden pressed, holding out his hand and making a grabbing motion with his fingers.
"Fine," Peter sighed, relinquishing his spectacles and placing his contacts back in their containers. "Better?"
"Much better," Aiden smiled, stepping towards the door before looking back over his shoulder. "Do try and act... normal."
With that final instruction, the two headed inside. Aiden was quite surprised to see that Charlie had company, though the girl she was with was no stranger either. He hadn't really spoken to Red before. He never had need to. With how often she got into trouble, she was more of a liability than an asset. Peter assumed a very... robotic stance. His movements and posture rehearsed and careful, just like any standard synth.
"Ahem," Aiden coughed, introducing his presence, removing the sunglasses that he had been wearing and hanging them from his jacket pocket. "Not interrupting anything am I, girls?" he asked, a confident beaming smile on his lips. Peter stood behind him, smiling but only so slightly that it still maintained the emotionless, empty aura.
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