[Event Post]

[duelacademynpcs]

Comments

[3_s33s_what]

*Oh boy, Skull Servants.

I'm gonna run them over with my bike. Like the scoundrel I am.*

[33million]

::They attempt to dive out of the way as their stall flies up into the air, products scattering. You think you may have gotten one of them.::

Hey, why dontcha look where you're goin', bucko!?

[3_s33s_what]

*brakes as he turns around to face them, lifting his helmet's visor up to quirk an eyebrow at them*

... thought I ran through a pile 'f bones. Guess I should've gone faster or somethin'.

[33million]

We're running a legal operation here! Whya go and smash through, punk!?

[blackmage_linka]

*I'd gotten curious since I'm in the area for ~*shopping*~ since it is the perfect day to spoil myself, and I look over the number of items procured

... ... why do you have my shoes here.*

[33million]

::They are clearly Futaba Shiroko's. It says so on the sign.::

[blackmage_linka]

*... but. I can tell what my shoes are.

I am just staring at them with question marks surrounding my head.*

[33million]

YES, MADAM? CAN WE HELP YOU? ::They're like skeletal cockroachs.::

[33million]

Authentic copies. ::All of them say like parrots. In a patently deadpan tone.::

[33million]

They're authentic. ::Another Skull Servant jabs you with a stick, Jinn. Repeatedly.::

[i_like_red]

*Juudai sighs and heads towards where the Skull Servants are selling their dodgy merchandise. Again.*

So! What counterfeit goods are you guys selling today?

[33million]

We don't sell counterfeit goods. ::This is clearly contrary to reality. That Nebula Rose Dragon looks like shitty squiggles.::

[i_like_red]

Uh huh. And that's why you're selling one of a kind cards, which, by the looks of it, were drawn by a 5-year-old.

*He picks up the Nebula Rose Dragon to demonstrate*

And the spelling mistakes on the rest of this stuff...not good. Not good at all.

[33million]

They're I2 brand. Also one-of-a-kind cards are illegal, as they are unfair.

[rayofspeed]

Alexandra arrives shortly after the whole D-Wheel commotion, thoroughly out of breath - with her exams newly behind her she's been taking the opportunity to get back into shape, but what would have been a light workout six months ago has left her winded and sweating into her tracksuit. She doesn't look like she's been out jogging, though: she has her hair tied back into a ponytail and is carrying a tightly-sinched courier's back at her back, complete with smartphone clipped into the front of the strap that runs across her chest, putting it in easy reach if anyone wants to call her.
That said, she largely has eyes for the broken-down limo, and approaches as she gets her breath back, raising a hand to the lady fiddling with her cellphone. "Yo. Got a flat?" she asks, like a person of high pedigree (yeah right) would do.

[daredevildame]

... More or less. You got a tire under that track suit by any chance?

::The woman thumbs her hand with the cellphone at the flat tire. Looks like something punctured or tore it. Kinda nasty like.::

[rayofspeed]

"Not exactly." her hand drifts back to her courier's satchel. "You don't have a spare in the trunk?"

[daredevildame]

Not exactly. There isn't much of a trunk. It's more of a slide out hot-tub plus mini-bar. Manufacturer's insistence.