OOC:
![Grin](images/smilies/d_grin.gif)
Yay Marclar and Skillyaslig everyone.....Aaaaand Venks said he wants me to use his characters while he is gone...I swear he gave me permissions....He even said so on MSN....You can even PM him<<....
IC
(R&R)
Doe felt dissapointment. Scri wasn't there all along; he had just imagined her there in some sort of sleepy trance. A lucid dream perhaps. He narrowed his eyes. A filthy industrialist slig was yelling. People were certain to wake up.
Scarface turned and snapped back "YOU JUST SHUT YOUR FACE!". That was before he realised
Jatt, the guy who had told him to shut up, was a big bro. Kicking himself in his mind, his eyes behind his visors reaked of terror.
"Eep..." He whispered, staring up at the big bro in fear. Apparently he had another big bro with him (
Jutt). Knowing big bros back in the Slig Barracks, he could foresee himself being chucked into a meatgrinder now.
Tiny whimpered. He feared other big bros, despite being bigger than the average one. He covered his red visors with his hands and cowered.
(Outside R&R)
Tiro only smiled, before realising
Wic was terrified over his newly nicked blunderbuss. He smiled sheepishly and hid it behind his back, hearing Scarface rant over how mad he was it was gone.
"Its okay, I dunno how to use it." He admitted cheerfully. "I borrowed it from the ugly faced sliggy I didn't like. He kept bossing me around." He heard
Cylepso coo over how cute they were. Grinning like he was wired, he turned to her and showed the gun he had stolen.
"Look what I got off that ugly bully sliggie!" He cheered.
Dimitrio was oblivious to the mudokon child wielding a killing machine. A voice from his friend Slax reminded him not to doze off.
You didn't get much sleep last you still worried about Agent don't worry we will find her".
Slax comforted him. He sighed sadly, his ribs visibly moving in and out. He rested his head in his mechanical arm. It wasn't comfortable.
"I know, but..." He sniffed. "I dunno what's happened to her..."
"No... I don't think so... I wasn't really paying attention." #9 answered in response to his question. Dimitrio resisted the urge to wail.
"A-a-a-a-are you sure?!" He interrogated him. "She doesn't look like a girl! She wears a black shirt and has abs and-and-and!-"
#9 sighed and was about to tell him politely no, when he blabbered the last part.
"She goes by Agent; her number thing is Agent 80085-"
He had a severe case of deja vu. He had heard of Agent in a dream. He knew she needed help and this only confirmed it. It was his turn to grill him for questions.
"Agent?!" He spat out. "W-w-where was she last?!"
Dimitrio was a snifling wreck. "I don't know; she went after this criminal guy to the kitchen and -" He fell to the floor, howling like a toddler in a supermarket.
"She didn't come - come - baaaack!" He sobbed hysterically.
Dimitrio was too much of a wreck to notice #9 was already off and away, his pants making loud mechanical noises. Tiro only looked at him and cringed. It wasn't the first time he had cried; he had been sobbing himself hoarse in the night too.
(Dek's lab)
Chris slept as silently and peacefully as a baby. He woke. Someone or something was poking her big pink head. She slowly looked up to see a butchy, apparently female, shirtless slig prodding her head. She cleared her throat, startling the slig patient. Agent saw Chris' eyes were open and awake. She froze on the spot.
"Excuse me..." The light pink skinned vykker began speaking to her. "Are you okay? What happened to you anyways? You got a bullet lodged in your rib, it could of killed you..." Her eye swivelled upwards. Though her sleepy eyes couldn't see, she could feel that muscly finger on her forehead.
"And why are you poking my head?"
The next thing she knew, that slig had flipped backwards out of her aluminium pants, knocked them over with a clank and dashed across the floor like a mouse. In seconds flat, she had sped across the floor and into a desolate corner of the room. There she curled up in a foetal position and stared up at the vykker like she was wielding a flamethrower machine gun.
Christina couldn't make sense out of it. Perhaps the patient was insane. Or really attention seeking.
"Um..What are you doing?" She asked. She was answered by Agent screaming blue murder at her.