[ooc: wheee, first post! (hope I'm Doing It Right. >.<) This is open to anyone who wants to deal with a grumpy bounty hunter, voice, video or action. He hasn't accessed the Network yet, but feel free to ping him. Just don't expect any cordiality. XD Oh, and I need to afk for a few hours, but I'll back on tonight and most nights this week to tag.
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[He whips out his happy smile.]
Greetings! My name is Wing and I'll be your server for the evening. [Wing likes the little ritual of these things.]
What can I get for you?
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What can he get for him, he asks? How 'bout that fancy weapon on a platter.]
Got any Flat Tire on tap?
[His gaze shifts momentarily to meet the beaming yellow optics then start scanning the Cybertronian's chassis for signs of factional allegiance. Expecting to find a red face, he's surprised to find nothing. He meets the yellow optics with a curious gaze before speaking again.]
In the can s'fine too.
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On tap, of course. [He nods graciously. No mech drank from a can when they could get it fresher. Unless they had some...interesting reasons. ]
[The newcomer's optics sure like to take a nice long slow tour of Wing's frame. Also not a first time for this. Wing smiles. It is flattering, he supposes. Time to start earning his tip, though.]
You'll forgive me, but I haven't seen you around here before. Are you new? [He's willing to guess the newcomer's Malgian, too, by his design. But some mechs might find that presumptuous. ]
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S'my first time in here.
[He looks past the mech, keeping a vigilant watch on those who came and went, looking for any trace of a bot from his own 'verse.]
Get a lot a'travelers passin' through?
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No, they are not.
[Even if he did know just who was responsible for his new look, that information was not something to be offered lightly. Or ever.]
[As it is, however, he makes himself comfortable in Lockdown's booth, his forearms resting on the table top. His fusion cannon was impossible to miss despite his easy movement. And just like Lockdown, he'll stick with evasive responses for the time being.]
I don't suppose your ship wound itself here with you. That would be far too convenient.
[The TransTechs aren't that inept, unfortunately.]
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That fusion cannon burns the hunter's periphery like a fried circuit. Lockdown ducks into his glass, taking a drink a to mask his unease. The liquid courage slides down easily.]
No ship. [Lockdown's relieved to hear the mech fishing for information. That could potentially lead to a job offer. Perhaps there's some hope in restoring his way of life.]
Don't need it to do my job, though.
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