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Eloquent Conversationalist
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 Posted: Fri Aug 06, 2010 11:40 pm
Aubia Schultz, her nametag said. A little ID card clipped to the lapel of her dark blue uniform said so, along with last year's photo, a smiling woman with wispy and curled brown hair, and glasses.
Clearly, if you looked at her, she had not changed much from last year, except perhaps a different shade of highlights in her hair.
Aubia pursed her lips and browsed through the files displayed on her workstation. They were all reports of seemingly innocuous system glitches - a short power outage over in Red, a thermostat glitch in Hydroponics, all sorts of little things like that.
But that was just it! "This shouldn't be happening," Aubia said to herself. Warlock did not glitch. Warlock was..... Warlock. It was the great machine, a supercomputer to all supercomputers, almost a deity in its own right. That's how she liked to think of it. For years, as long as the networks were supervised and the mechanical extensions maintained, Warlock had perfectly taken care of itself. To glitch like this, and it not be the fault of worn wiring or a failed switch or a simple coding error - it only meant, to Aubia, that there was a source problem. A source problem was a very bad thing to have.
But it was happening, and she had a job to do. As Admin, it was her duty to fix this problem. Though a solid programmer, codes were not her strongest suit (a uncommon trait in Admins, to not be outright professional programmers or hackers). Aubia was organized and professional, and must importantly, trustworthy and tight-lipped. Classified information made its way to her, and it never left.
It was part of the reason it was her job to nominate candidates for a team, and then brief them for the mission ahead. Over the past few days, Aubia been combing the Population Database for people (and then, some robots) who seemed to have the resources, the intelligence, and skill for what they were going to be asked to do.
"Find it, fix it," she repeated. It had because a little mantra.
And then, in an hour or two, she would clock out, and her list of people would be locked away until work started again tomorrow morning.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 6:40 am
Jack Vegas Work Droid - R.C. #D-110
"Another day, another problem...Where do they keep springing from. This city needs an overhaul." Complained Jack as he wandered around the Hydroponics feed pipes. He was on the lookout for a bust feed pipe that was leaking precious hydrogenated water and stopping the crops from getting much needed nutrients. Something that could lead to drastic problems. The feed pipes were situated on the outskirts of the floating city and more or less on the edge of the land mass, not somewhere people liked to go from fear of being blown away into the sea below by a sudden beefy gust of wind. Clutching his wrench and a sealant kit Jack followed the length of the numerous tubes and pipes, until he spotted the oh so drastic problem...
"Ah! There we have it!" He yelled at the sight of a pathetic piddle of a stream leaking from an older looking plastic length. It has obviously seen better days, but well almost everything on 'ground level' had. Reaching into his repair kit Jack got to work in moulding the cracks back together with a blow torch...
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 9:50 am
Angelina sat in her work office, fiddling with a clock. The noises of her garage below were almost deafing. She took a screwdriver out of it's case. 'Phillips. Wrong one. Need a flat head.' she thought breifly to herself. She rumaged through her tool box until she found a flat head. She turned the final gear and it started ticking. She closed the front of it and locked it. She set the clock to the regular time and set it on her desk. The owner should be here in about two hours to pick it up. Her phone rang and she picked it up.
"This is Angel's Repiars, this is Angel, what can I fix for you today?" she said into the reciver.
"Angelina, we need you down here right now. We've got a car we have no clue how to fix. It's one we've never seen before." a male voice said.
She rolled her eyes, "Alright, be down in a sec."
She put the phone back into it's cradle. She rubbed her temples and sighed. 'Here comes another very long day,' she thought as she stood, opened the door, turned off the light, and walked down the stairs.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 10:49 am
Antoinette pursed her lips as she stared at her reflection in the mirror. Oh, she looked great (as always), but the mirror was disgusting. She'd have to get that taken care of. Tossing her hair over one shoulder and hitching her purse just that much higher, she strutted out of the room, pausing for a moment to let the maid-bot know to pay extra attention to the mirrors in her bedroom and bathroom.
Finished with business at home, Antoinette finally made her way to her job at the research facility, utilising the car that her parents had bought her after graduation. She set the course on autopilot so she could finish fixing her hair and clothes before arriving. After all, a professional appearance was important--just being able to do her job was simply not good enough.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 1:41 pm
((I think my charrie is the shortest XP.))
Cwen Hazard sighed as she waited for her drink at a cafe in the Platinum sector. Today, her wavy reddish orange hair was down against her back. As usual, she was dressed smartly and in pants, so she could move around easier. She still had on high heels though.
The cafe she was at was a popular one, but it wasn't too noisy or too quiet. There was always enough conversation in the area to pick up random gossip and information about random things. She was seated at a table alone in a comfy chair "outside" the cafe on a balcony. In her hand was a newspaper in digital format. She was perusing it and thinking about her company at the same time. Some of the things in the news bothered her, especially about the numerous problems that had been occurring. What are those Admins doing? They're not doing their jobs, are they?
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 4:19 pm
Angelina walked towards the car. It looked familar.
"Now what's the problem?" she asked.
"We have no clue how to fix this. It's an older model and they don't even sell these at the used car shops anymore." one of her workers said.
She rubbed her temples, "Alright, alright. Let me have a look at it."
She picked up the hood and looked inside. She crinkled her nose in disgust. It smelled like dead mouse. Then she realized it. She looked around for about half an hour until she found it. A dead mouse.
"Hey! Phil!" she called. Phil was by the car in seconds. She flicked the mouse at him and he caught it. Then he saw what it was and dropped it.
"Hey! What's this all about!?" he yelled.
"Just clean it up and take it away." she said waving her hand. "And tell Fran to bring me some oil." she added.
He nodded and picked up the mouse he ran and Fran was there 20 minutes later with the oil. "Thanks," she muttered as she took the oil. She gave the old car a tune up and finished just as the owner turned up. Of course, it was her Father.
"Give the car back to the owner. I'm done here." she comanded.
They nodded and she walked back up to her office.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 5:48 pm
Located near the edge of the Platinum sector was a tall, grand, and well lit building. Despite being in the Platinum sector, even people from the poorest sections of the city could visit it, and try their luck at winning money. This building was the luxurious five star Goldway hotel casino, and it was also the current headquarters of the Hale crime family. As of late, it has been having its own share of problems that are beyond the control of the underworld.
Maxwell Hale, the godfather of the Hale crime family, looked impatiently at the holographic screen in front of him that displayed what looked like important financial information. He was in his office accompanied by Harrison and Charlotte on either side of him.
"Unfortunately," spoke Charlotte with a tone of despair, "we have to cancel the big fight tonight." She shook her head. "The lights in the hotel's arena are going haywire, and it's something that only the Admins can fix."
Maxwell was dressed in an expensive custom made black colored suit that fit perfectly on his body. He took a deep breath before slowly saying, "Do you know how much money we were supposed to rake in tonight from that fight alone?" He gritted his teeth and slammed his right hand onto the desk causing some papers to fly. "SEVEN DIGITS!!!" There was a boxing match between two big names that was scheduled to take place at the Goldway that night, but now it was not going to happen. It was a highly hyped up match, and there was a lot of money to be made from the family's gambling and loan sharking operations because of it. Soon, the godfather was out the door looking for a place to eat that wasn't in the Goldway, since staying there would make him think about the money he would no longer be pulling in tonight.
His limousine pulled up next to one of the Platinum section's cafes where unbeknownst to him, Cwen Hazard was also present. "Watch the limo, Ibane," Maxwell said to a rather tall service android that happened to be his limo driver. The android's face lacked any sort of emotion. His AI was made purely for serving others.
"Yes, Boss," replied the android with a monotonous tone.
Maxwell was soon following a waiter to his seat with his eyes glancing over at the other restaurant patrons along the way. And then, he saw her. Maxwell paused for a moment and looked more intently at the young woman from a distance. No, I'm seeing things, but maybe it is her. He tapped the waiter on the shoulder. "Say, who's that woman over there?" he inquired while staring at the woman.
"Why, that's Miss Cwen Hazard," replied the waiter.
The godfather rubbed his forehead as if thinking about something. Oh, I was kinda hoping I was seeing things. Maybe I should talk to her in person after all this time? He softly laughed. "Okay, I would like to join her."
"I'm sorry, sir, but--" the waiter stopped as soon as Maxwell pulled out a neatly tied bundle of $100 bills from his pocket, and placed it on the waiter's tray. The waiter took a deep breath and nodded. "I'm sorry sir, but I'm afraid I must ask you to join Miss Cwen Hazard at the table."
As Maxwell approached Cwen's table, he noticed she was too focused on her digital newspaper. Maybe he should surprise her? He quietly took a seat across from her, and was just as careful when hanging his gray trench coat around the chair. He took off his gray fedora hat and set it on the table. Well, here we go. Maxwell grinned and finally greeted her for the first time in a number of years. "Hello, Cwen. Long time, no see. You're looking very lovely today."
((Whoa. This turned out to be longer than I expected.))
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 7:44 pm
Zazzy was not having a good day. First the network crashes, then the problem with the pipes, now frequent power outages. And all on his day off. Life couldn't get much worse...or so he thought.
Currently, Zazzy was working on a malfunctioning butler-bot that had walked through a wall. That wall happened to be to the bathroom. That wouldn't have been much of a problem, had its master's wife not be showering in that same bathroom at that time. He tightened a couple of screws along the legs of the butler-bot, checked to make sure to circuitry was wired correctly, then oiled and shined the butler-bot.
"Oi, Per. Call 'em there Plats and tell 'em their bot is done." he yelled to his custom built AI, which stood at about eight feet seven inches. At this point in time, it had been in Sleep Mode, tucked away in one of the clustered corners of Zazzy's lab.
"Yes, sir. Right away." came a slightly mech-like voice from Per. Afterward, several beeping sounds ensued as he called upon the Hazard residence. After a short while more of more beeping, Per called out, "Okay, sir. All I got was their servant-bot. I left a message telling them that their butler-bot is done." "Per, how many time I gotta tell ya? Don't call me 'sir'. My name is 'Zazzy'." "Yes, sir. Of course, sir." Zazzy scoffed lightly, then threw a small spare lug-nut over his shoulder and hit Per in the head with startling accuracy. "Stupid droid. Don't even remember why I built 'im." After that he wiped his hands off on an obviously overused oil rag and pulled out his PDA. There were only two numbers in his PDA. Angelina's and Aubia's. He would occasionally text Angelina in attempt to connect with the outside world. He pulled up Angelina's number, hit the "Text" option and typed in "Hey, Ang. Need a hand? I just got finished repairing a butler-bot and I need to pass the time until the Hazard comes and picks it up." Then he clicked the "Send" button, kicked back his feet onto his desk and waited.
EDIT: I had meant to take it off the document style. Sorry.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:01 pm
In the early morning chill, Lieutenant Quinntessa Dallas stood over death. It was a particularly nasty death, as most headers off of a three story building tended to be. And it seemed like such a waste, in her mind, that some Admin had come all the way to the Black Sector just to die. And it annoyed the hell out of her that he'd just had to die in front of the building across from her dinky little apartment complex.
That's what happened, she supposed, when you lived in the very slums of the Black Sector. And it had been her choice to stay here, instead of moving closer to Cop Central, right between the blue and yellow sectors.
Beside her, the medical examiner straightened, and she turned cold, flat cop eyes towards him, raising a brow. Knowing what she wanted, he sighed, drew off the thin plastic gloves he'd slipped on.
"Victim has been identified through fingerprint scanner as Kipling, James Isaac, Admin. TOD was around oh-six-hundred." He said, and she nodded, glancing down at the bloody mess that had once been James Kipling's skull but was now only a pulpy pool of blood and gray matter.
"Cause of death? The header off the roof, I presume?" Quinn asked, but the medical examiner shook his head, and gestured for one of the MTs to flip the body.
"Cause of death would appear to be this gaping bullet wound in his chest. He was dead before he hit the pavement, Lieutenant." He said, and Quinn hunkered down again, using her crime scene recorder to record the wound.
"Let the record show that the bullet wound appears to have gone straight through the victim's heart." She straightened again, and looked towards the condemned building that the victim had been tossed off of.
"It's going to be hell getting witnesses for this." She muttered, and the medical examiner chuckled briefly, looking towards the building as well.
"You can say that again. I gotta say, Dallas, you chose a hell of a place to live. What's our fine Lieutenant doing living across the street from Prostitute Walk?" He asked, and she shrugged, familiar with the term.
Here in the Black Sector, Goldstrum Street was a favored hangout of hookers and druggies alike. She'd lost track of all the times she'd taken down a b*****d stupid enough to try and score right in front of her.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 8:22 pm
"Professor Plum in the Library!" Jude Frances Emerson jolted up in bed with these words tripping off her tongue. Before she could fathom what the hell she'd been talking about-a child's game, she thought-she blinked into focus, and realized what had woken her up.
The police scanner she'd invested in was spouting off locations. "All units, all units, we have a hostage situation. Hostage situation inside Central Bank, Blue Sector, all available units respond. Two subjects, both armed, six hostages. Repeat, all units, all units..."
Jude didn't stick around any longer. In moments she was leaping towards her closet, almost tripping over the cat, who was busy cleaning himself in the middle of the bedroom.
"Darn it, Frank, do that somewhere else!" Grabbing a shirt off the floor of the closet and praying it wasn't disgusting, she shrugged it on over the tank she'd slept in, then shimmied into a pair of jeans.
Turning in a circle in her room, she stopped abruptly when she saw her notebook and pens on the bedside table. Making another leap, she grabbed them up, and would've run out of her apartment with bare feet if her sandals hadn't happened to trip her on the way out the door.
Cursing, she pulled them on, taking precious moments to gather up the notebook she'd dropped and to slip a recorder into her pocket. As she made a mad dash to the curb to catch a cab outside her apartment, she spouted off a location half a block from the bank, slamming the door shut.
As the cab driver slipped into traffic, Jude reached back and pulled her hair into a pony tail. Once she had, she grinned, her eyes flashing. She was bestselling crime and murder author J.F. Emerson, and it was time to take some notes.
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Posted: Sat Aug 07, 2010 10:24 pm
Antoinette glared at the man standing in front of her. "You mean to tell me," she iterated, slowly and deliberately, with her arms crossed under her ample chest, "that you can't fix a damn door, but you somehow work here anyways?" What was wrong with this place? Was the Research facility really getting that desperate.
The man's lips disappeared into a thin line as he gave her a very disapproving look that she didn't even flinch at. She was used to people thinking she was not worth it. "Move your a**," she demanded, "and I'll show you how to fix up a simple glitch so that the doors can at least be opened manually." What a dumbass.
He was about to protest--did she even work here?, he would likely ask, which she may or may not destroy him for--but she shoved her work ID in his face before he could even form sound. Smirking at him, because the look on his face was simply priceless, Antoinette flipped her orange hair over her shoulder and strode past to the emergency control panel. Unless this was glitching too, it would be easy. If this was glitching, she'd have to find the wires, and since they were nicely hidden (most of the time), that may take a few extra minutes.
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 2:07 am
Zazzy awoke with a slight jerk. Groggily he shook his head and looked around the room for a brief second before realizing his was in his lab. Pondering what woke him, he lifted his feet off the desk and began slogging around the room, looking for any blinking lights from some form of mechanical object that might have caused the noise.
He had just overturned a large black, mech-like disk when a slight "Thud!" occurred just outside of his lab's door. With a slightly bemused expression, he traipsed over to the door, knocking over a small dog-bot, a coffee mug and stepping on several leaflets of used paper in the process. Where is Per? he wondered.
Quickly opening the door, he looked out in the hallway to see several cracks and holes in the ceiling and walls. The ceiling and walls appeared to be trickling out water. Just my luck. he thought Because this is my district, they're going to expect me to clean this mess up. Still he pondered what the "Thud!" had been. After turning right down the hallway, he realized that the pipes didn't just appear to be leaking. They appeared to be eroding as well.
As he pondered this new event, another "Thud!" occurred, disrupting his chain of thoughts. The "Thud!" had been close, he realize. It had also sounded metallic, as well. Quickly racing down the hallway in the direction of the noise, he came across a large AI that was about eight feet seven inches that was apparently trying to walk through a wall after a few minutes of running and a few more "Thud!"s.
After a few seconds he realized the AI was Per. "Oi, oi. Per, what are ya doin', eh?" he said. Upon hearing his creator's voice, Per stopped and, in the same mech-like voice, said, "I have no idea, sir." Zazzy looked over at the wall, which had almost been completely broken inward. "Well, come back to the lab, then. I need to give you a stasis check." "Yes, sir." "Don't call me 'sir'." "Yes, sir."
Several minutes later, back inside Zazzy's lab, Zazzy was busy inside the back of Per, checking the wiring connections. Finding nothing wrong, he pulled himself out of Per, closed and latched the lid for Per's wires and flipped Per back on.
NOTE: He had fallen asleep for a good twenty minutes before all of this happened.
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 6:35 am
((lol. Ibane. That is a lot of money to bribe a waiter O_O; I don't think he needs to work at the cafe anymore for a little bit anyway. Uh, I'm just going to make up a time.))
The reddish orange haired aristocrat was so engrossed in her thoughts and reading the digital news that she didn't even notice that Maxwell had set his coat and hat down until she heard her name. ...who? That voice.
At this point, Cwen looked up and saw Maxwell dressed in a suit with his fedora on the table. She didn't smile at all and just looked at him with no expression on her face. "Good afternoon, Mr. Hale." Maxwell hadn't changed so much in appearance that she couldn't recognize him even after so many years of no contact. Then again, since he was a business man, his face showed up on ads and in the news too. Even if Cwen wanted to, she couldn't forget him. Besides, he was involved in the underworld, something she worked against or tried to as a politician.
"These... matters aren't your doing, are they?" she pointedly accused in an even voice. Cwen knew better than that though. Everyone was having problems in the city, and the Admins just weren't responding fast enough or good enough.
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Posted: Sun Aug 08, 2010 7:56 am
Angelina slamed her office door with a sigh. Her Father had seen her and wanted to talk to her. Of course she turned it into a scene he should've known she had a flair for the dramtics. He didn't, since he was never home in the first place. She saw he PDA light blinking and grabbed it off her desk and sat down. It was from Zazzy. About half an hour ago. She rubbed her temples. She quickly typed something in that seemed like an eplaination. 'Sorry, couldn't text you earlier. A costumer that was here caused a scene. Have nothing better to do. Meet me at a cafe or something?' she pressed the send button and let her head fall on the desk. Then there was a knock on the door.
"What do you want!?" she yelled at the door.
"I've got asprin and a glass of water." the muffled voice of Fran came through the door.
'Thank God. The girl gets it.' she thought. "Come on in." she said sitting up.
Fran opened the door and and walked up to the desk, handing her the glass and holding out three asprin pills. She swiped them out of her hand and popped them in her mouth and took a swig of water. "Thanks," she said after she had drained the glass. Fran nodded and walked out and closed the door. Angelina rubbed her forehead and sighed. 'What a day,' she thought. 'I really need a vacation once and a while.' She checked her PDA before bringing the clock downstairs to its owner.
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