A.A. Ron (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
clanky) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
maskormenacelogs2014-07-30 11:34 pm
clanky) wrote in maskormenacelogs2014-07-30 11:34 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
WHO: Aaron Stack and Mike Peterson
WHERE: Somewhere around the docks
WHEN: Backdated to the 10th.
WHAT: Serious questions one robot to one...half-robot.
WARNINGS: Aaron Stack is Aaron Stack.
[ There's a file somewhere with Aaron's name on it that says "antisocial." And this would be true. He's never been particularly good at some parts of human interaction. He's not so quick to get attached these days. But one thing he's always reliably been dedicated to, no matter how bitter he got, was looking out for the rest of his kind. Deathloks are at least half robot; he's going to count it, if only because frankly it's nice to talk to someone with fewer issues muddying the water...who isn't Danger.
So he grabs whatever's in the fridge behind the gallons of pig blood, which turns out to be not crap, and he goes to hang out and wait. Mostly here because fewer people are around, and mostly because if he's going to be drunk at some point (unlikely given the amount of beer present, but) or have a serious conversation, he might as well do it in relative peace.
There's also complications involving recording equipment and salt water, but that would be paranoid.]
WHERE: Somewhere around the docks
WHEN: Backdated to the 10th.
WHAT: Serious questions one robot to one...half-robot.
WARNINGS: Aaron Stack is Aaron Stack.
[ There's a file somewhere with Aaron's name on it that says "antisocial." And this would be true. He's never been particularly good at some parts of human interaction. He's not so quick to get attached these days. But one thing he's always reliably been dedicated to, no matter how bitter he got, was looking out for the rest of his kind. Deathloks are at least half robot; he's going to count it, if only because frankly it's nice to talk to someone with fewer issues muddying the water...who isn't Danger.
So he grabs whatever's in the fridge behind the gallons of pig blood, which turns out to be not crap, and he goes to hang out and wait. Mostly here because fewer people are around, and mostly because if he's going to be drunk at some point (unlikely given the amount of beer present, but) or have a serious conversation, he might as well do it in relative peace.
There's also complications involving recording equipment and salt water, but that would be paranoid.]
no subject
He's stopping by a convenience store to purchase two six-packs and he's carrying them when he shows up at the docks]
I can get more if this isn't enough.
[he says, setting the cans down next to Aaron]
no subject
[He's not actually kidding. That was the point he'd reached in order to be able to get drunk, and it hadn't been a particularly pleasant point either.
It's also basically the only way he remembers hanging out with people anymore. Once upon a time he'd had something resembling a normal life. Once upon a time his social life hadn't consisted of hanging out with a disillusioned sadsack who couldn't even remember his own name and an idiotic kleptomaniac with a mutant power for blowing things up, and other such really depressing incidents.]
So. Alex Baker?
no subject
[he's joking, trying to. To be exact, John Smith was shot down as a suggestion due to being too obvious. Mike breaks open a can and just holds it in his hand for now. His half-hidden tattoo spelling out 'vigilante']
What did you want to ask me?
no subject
Are you still- for lack of a better term here- mostly analog upstairs?
[It's a question he might have answered for himself, but, like with Danger, it'd be the height of invasive to go poking around looking for Mike's operating system, if he has one, or what it can do.]
no subject
[he reaches up to tap against the left side of his forehead.]