maskormenacelogs | You are so rock & roll

WHO: Handsome Bob & YOU
WHERE: PICK A PLACE all prompts can be applied to any city
WHEN: MARCH
WHAT: Mostly a March catch-all but includes Bob trying to be good at his job and just... not. CR building. Potential road trip. Potential crime-y connections.
WARNINGS: Violence, fight club, ~~semi-friendly~~ savage punch ups, blood & injuries

{ 01. Workin' 9 to 5 / What a way to make a livin' | 18+ }

Bob's able to count the number of different jobs he's had one one hand (crooked pinky and all).

Sweeping the floor at his mum's best mate's hair salon didn't last long. Weekend work at Asda was a laugh right up until he got fired for racing the forklift up aisle twelve and taking out a lovingly stacked display of Heinz Baked Beans. The ones with the sausages in. Working in a factory making and packaging air fresheners for cars had given him a natural aversion to never hanging anything 'pine fresh' from the overhead mirror in any of his cars. His last job had been getaway driver for his gang, the Wild Bunch. And now he's a spokesmodel, his first and only current gig for a company trying to launch a competitor app to the well-known dating app, imPress.

It's with a belatedly regretful realisation that not only has his new employer set him up on the app to make it seem more relatable, but they've already made all his dating decisions for him. Some which aren't exactly in line with his current preferences. In fact, according to the app, he's up for dating just about anything that moves. Dressed head-to-toe in an outfit that's a lot more purposely put together than his own haphazardly casual style, he's wandering around with his usual swagger, grinning at anybody he makes eye contact with.

"Hello, you. You look friendly," he delivers charmingly, handsome smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he falls in step with the latest person who's shared more than a split-second of eye contact, comms device in hand. "How's your day going? Can I nick a couple of minutes of your time to make it even better?"

{ 02. You got a fast car / I want a ticket to anywhere | OTA }

Sometimes, there's just something relaxing about sitting in the driver's seat of a car and letting the engine rumble quietly. Pulled over and with no fixed destination in mind, Bob's playing a game on his comms device, enjoying the gentle purr of his car (it's his now, anyway) and a rare moment of feeling almost content at being on his own. His usual need to be with other people is dampened only by a long day at work and the prospect of taking the car for a spin in his very near future is making him feel better.

The past month has seemed to rush by, faster than he could have imagined, and with its steep learning curve, a strange sense of freedom he hadn't realised he'd been missing before. A fresh start hadn't ever been something that he thought he'd needed and while he still misses his family, his mates, he's found new people to bother. He smiles to himself as the thought of new friends warms him from the inside, only looks up when he clocks somebody standing right in front of his stationery car, not moving an inch. It's not like he'd planned on racing off just yet, but his eyebrows raise all the same, a slow hand reaching up to signal a wave.

{ 03. But I take care of my fam, I'm a gangster | 18+ for option a, option b (closed) }

It feels like a while since Bob's been in any kind of scrap. He'd thought Ronan might have kicked his arse for taking a lightsaber that didn't belong to him, but that didn't happen and instead he came away from that meetup feeling like he really wished it had. So it's exhilarating to feel deep in his bones that familiar sensation of danger. Of walking a fine line and not knowing how he's going to be walking away from it. From feeling the adrenaline pouring into his blood until he's almost high off it.

He's ready to walk a little more on the wild side and if he can't race anybody on the streets he'll have a friendly punch up instead. How he'd heard about this particular fight club he can't quite remember, but he's here, stripped down to his waist and ready to go.

option a.
"We avoiding the face or...?" he asks his opponent, question genuine and smile real as he rolls his shoulders in an attempt to loosen up. It doesn't really make much difference, he's a bit out of shape. Too many burgers and not enough running from the police. It's been a bit boring, honestly.

option b. - later | Closed » Kaz Brekker
Sitting on a low wall outside the seedy looking establishment he's just emerged from, Bob's holding a bag of frozen peas to one eyebrow and trying to stem the flow of blood from his split lip. Don't ask him where he got the peas from, he really doesn't know. He might look like he'd lost that fight (and maybe he did) but he's in a good mood regardless.

"'scuse me, mate," he asks the next person to walk by, trying not to come across as intimidating as he might look, shaved head and obviously having been fighting.

"You got the time by any chance?"

{ 04. Post your own }

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Mightyena whines happily. Yes. He is the best boy. Thank you for agreeing.

"Mightyena," Archie says, rolling his eyes. "C'mon-- let me put him down, will you?"

"Didn't tell you to pick him up, did I?" Bob says with a semi-triumphant smirk and folds his arms over his chest in an attempt to stop petting the dog.

"You ever need a dog walker, I'm your man."

The walking aspect might actually be more like Bob cruising around with Mightyena riding shotgun but those are details that don't matter. The point is... he really wants a dog.

"Tch..." he mutters lightly, the tone of a man who knows he's been dunked on.

"I live by a big wooded area, he mostly just runs around out there when he needs to," Archie says with a shrug. Sounds irresponsible, but-- "He's not like dogs here. He's sentient."

Forget the app. They can talk about Mightyena. Dogs...

"Mm. Clever boy," he says with a grin and just about stops himself from dipping down into a crouch to resume his petting. He has completely forgotten that he's supposed to be trying to get people to sign up to the free trial of the app. Even he's not convinced about it.

"Keep thinking about getting a dog. Dunno if it's a good idea."

Usually Bob would be all over the idea and getting himself down to the nearest rescue centre, but he hasn't been here long enough to know if that's a good or fair thing to do.

"It's not," he says, immediately. Archie's been here long enough... "You don't know when you'll be Ported back out. You don't want to leave your poor dog alone and traumatise it, yo you? Mightyena came in with me. We don't have that problem."

Sighing, he shakes his head.

"Fostering is your better bet, if you really need an animal. Or you can just come hang with Mightyena whenever ya want."

It's a fair point well made. Bob simply nods, disappointed but not disagreeing. He doesn't need to be another dickhead contributing to strays and filling up rescue centres. He shrugs a shoulder and glances down briefly at Mightyena again with a small smile before fixing his gaze back on Archie.

"Fair enough. You know where there's places to foster dogs? ...and is that an open invitation? 'cause you know what I do with those."

"Aye! There's a load of them in each Porter city. I think they're starting to cotton onta imPorts like us wanting animal companionship."

He shakes his head, watching Mightyena take in all of Bob's affection. It starts licking over his hands! Gross. Better wash those, you know where dogs like to lick on themselves!

"Yeah, why not?"

"Guess they're not wrong," Bob replies easily with a shrug of his shoulder before his attention is drawn back down towards Mightyena. He grins, the disappointment from earlier already forgotten.

Scratching his new canine-looking friend on the head, he turns his grin on Archie instead.

"Longest I managed to accidentally stay out of my flat at home because I got an open invitation was six weeks. Should've seen the state of the milk when I got back."

"Yeah? You're welcome to try and break it. Fuck knows it's easy to get lonely here."

A beat, then he looks away a little awkwardly.

"Er, not bein' weird about it or anything."

"Why's that weird?" Bob doesn't think it is. Fuck being lonely, he can't think of anything worse. He jerks his head up with a grin of acknowledgement of that feeling and lightly shoves Archie's shoulder.

"Alright, don't say I didn't give you plenty of fucking time to take the invitation back. That was... what... ten whole seconds?"

"Woe is me. Guess you'll have to meet the rest of my team. How are ya with giant sharks and living pollution?"

Well, this took a weird turn. Pokémon trainers, am I right?

"Giant sharks no idea, never met one. Living pollution... that's just London, mate, yeah?"

Probably not what Archie meant but also Bob doesn't have any concept of what living pollution looks like. Giant sharks, though... he's watched enough films to get the idea.

"I don't know what London is," he says, though he has been there. Just spent too much of it drunk. "But I'll agree so you sound clever."

A beat, then: "You still on the clock? You still owe me those beers."

"You don't know--" Bob looks jokingly appalled as he laughs at Archie's follow-up. It's not often people joke about his intelligence despite being more well-known for his looks. Mostly because they've already decided he doesn't have any. Handsome isn't really an adjective he'd use for himself, but the name stuck. Not that any of it really bothers him either way. He'd rather be a solid mate than clever or handsome.

"Supposed to be," he finally replies, glancing around and knowing full well that he's going to ditch this if it means heading off to buy Archie a drink.

"But maybe we can move this meeting somewhere else, know what I mean?"

"Nuh uh. I'm not from Earth, y'know." What's the Pokémon world equivalent of London? Who knows. This place looks enough like Unova, he thinks. Then there was the Kanto that Blue and Red went to in Japan... not something he thinks about. The multiverse being real is confusing enough.

"I'll let you pick. Ain't like I got fuck-all to do today."

Shrugging a shoulder, as if he still thinks London should be on any map on any world, Bob looks around for inspiration. Maps aside, he doesn't need one to find a bar for the two of them to drink in. Brain GPS can help and at least that's one of his powers that shouldn't get him into trouble. He's already given up on pretending he's working.

"Alright. Let's go get fucked. Think I've found a pub that lets dogs in too."

Because that's important. Even if Bob half knows that Archie's animals tend to be able to fit inside little balls. Not the point.

"What d'ya reckon, Mighty? Sound good, yeah?" he asks, talking instead to Mightyena.

Before Archie can say anything, Mightyena barks happily and spins around in a circle a few times, wagging his tail madly.

"I think that's a yes," Archie comments. "How'd you find the place without usin' your phone, huh?"

He could guess it's another power, but he's still interested!

"So either way you're outvoted, mate," Bob comments smugly and jerks his head in the direction he's parked his car in. The bar isn't far away but he's not going to leave his car here just to go for a stroll. He half considers joking that Mightyena can ride shotgun, with Archie in the back, but he stops himself as the other man asks his question.

"All up here," he says, tapping his temple with two fingers and grinning.

"Dunno, just one of the powers I got. I'm a walking fucking SatNav."

You are so rock & roll

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