Post by Jas on Sept 17, 2015 11:35:06 GMT -5
Getting the go ahead from his partner, Balder wasted no time in making his way through the growing crowd and away from the crime scene. After breaking through the densest part of the crowd he made a beeline around the scattered people trying to get a glimpse at the carnage and towards the electronic repair shop. It was only as he opened the dirtied glass door, a makeshift chime out of what looked like various scrap parts and bullet casings signalling his arrival, that he noticed Officer Orzamer was not behind him. Balder paused a moment before shrugging to himself and carrying on into the building.
There was a layer of dirt and dust on everything, the walls were weary and cracked, and the wares of the shop were loosely organized in a seemingly chaotic fashion. It seemed to Balder that, no matter the walls, the fences, and the efforts to rebuild, it always felt like a cheap imitation whenever he walked into a building in the city. But he was proud of it in a way, that he was part of the Shady Sands forgery of the Old World. It was that skewed contentment that lingered in his head as he approached the lean gal situated behind the counter.
The girl looked to be of average height and had a punk, raider-style haircut - one side of her head being shaved with the other sporting bright green hair going down to her shoulder. A scruffy shirt under an equally roughed up leather jacket adorned the gal, who looked to be in her late twenties. Beyond the city looks could be deceiving and he probably wouldn’t have guessed it right, but here in the city Balder found it was easier to determine that sort of thing at a glance. Although it would still earn you a slap in the face on a date. A pair of stormy blue eyes tracked the officer as he approached.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Balder, SSPD.” He stopped himself in front of the counter, casually glancing around to confirm again the Mister Gutsy was nowhere to be seen.
“I didn’t see nothin’, if that’s what y’want to know. I was on the shitter,” she replied, giving him an arrogant smirk as she nodded her head towards the front display window.
“Right.” Balder managed a tight smile. “Do you have a Mister Gutsy around here, miss…?”
“Kraze, I like t’go by Kraze. Not that I have one, but what do y’want with a Mistah Gutsy anyways?”
“Listen, miss… Kraze. I know you have a Mister Gutsy here, I saw it in the window not half an hour before now.”
Kraze flashed a teasing smile at the officer in front of her. “If y’thought so, why’d ya ask?”
“Professional curtesy, ma’am. Now I suggest you show me where that robot of yours is before I bring you up on obstructing an ongoing police investigation.”
Yeah, that’s right. I said Kraze. Don’t act so surprised, it’s just how things happen. When I think about it long and hard, she really wasn't that much different then. Same attitude and cockiness, always playing her cards close to her chest. Snide and blunt with a library of secrets lodged behind a concrete facade. But It was like a lot of things that happened then. People I encountered, stuff I saw, things so insignificant at the time that showed up later like a bad case of REPCONN Shakes.
The whole thing was like looking real close at a brick wall. You see the detail, all the nitty gritty of a single brick. You get to know a lot about that single brick and you think you’ve got it made, but step back a little more and there’s a hundred more bricks in the wall with graffiti on them written in blood. That sort of thing can change a person, pal.
Hell, I’m not sure how it took me as long as it did to wind up like this.
There was a layer of dirt and dust on everything, the walls were weary and cracked, and the wares of the shop were loosely organized in a seemingly chaotic fashion. It seemed to Balder that, no matter the walls, the fences, and the efforts to rebuild, it always felt like a cheap imitation whenever he walked into a building in the city. But he was proud of it in a way, that he was part of the Shady Sands forgery of the Old World. It was that skewed contentment that lingered in his head as he approached the lean gal situated behind the counter.
The girl looked to be of average height and had a punk, raider-style haircut - one side of her head being shaved with the other sporting bright green hair going down to her shoulder. A scruffy shirt under an equally roughed up leather jacket adorned the gal, who looked to be in her late twenties. Beyond the city looks could be deceiving and he probably wouldn’t have guessed it right, but here in the city Balder found it was easier to determine that sort of thing at a glance. Although it would still earn you a slap in the face on a date. A pair of stormy blue eyes tracked the officer as he approached.
“Good morning, ma’am. I’m Officer Balder, SSPD.” He stopped himself in front of the counter, casually glancing around to confirm again the Mister Gutsy was nowhere to be seen.
“I didn’t see nothin’, if that’s what y’want to know. I was on the shitter,” she replied, giving him an arrogant smirk as she nodded her head towards the front display window.
“Right.” Balder managed a tight smile. “Do you have a Mister Gutsy around here, miss…?”
“Kraze, I like t’go by Kraze. Not that I have one, but what do y’want with a Mistah Gutsy anyways?”
“Listen, miss… Kraze. I know you have a Mister Gutsy here, I saw it in the window not half an hour before now.”
Kraze flashed a teasing smile at the officer in front of her. “If y’thought so, why’d ya ask?”
“Professional curtesy, ma’am. Now I suggest you show me where that robot of yours is before I bring you up on obstructing an ongoing police investigation.”
Yeah, that’s right. I said Kraze. Don’t act so surprised, it’s just how things happen. When I think about it long and hard, she really wasn't that much different then. Same attitude and cockiness, always playing her cards close to her chest. Snide and blunt with a library of secrets lodged behind a concrete facade. But It was like a lot of things that happened then. People I encountered, stuff I saw, things so insignificant at the time that showed up later like a bad case of REPCONN Shakes.
The whole thing was like looking real close at a brick wall. You see the detail, all the nitty gritty of a single brick. You get to know a lot about that single brick and you think you’ve got it made, but step back a little more and there’s a hundred more bricks in the wall with graffiti on them written in blood. That sort of thing can change a person, pal.
Hell, I’m not sure how it took me as long as it did to wind up like this.