random 'verse. The 'Frag It' and an asteroid casino. First Mission: in progress.
Nightwish: *peeks in the big box and blinks when she sees the pink fur inside it* This looks like that spider I found.
Rat: *in the next room, painting himself up gold and green* Yeah, Spazz had it turned inta a pimp coat. Still pink, too.
Nightwish: *lifts the coat up and looks at it* The style is called 'pimp'?
Rat: Yup. Fat cats wear it. Usually th' coats're purple 'r red dough.
Nightwish: .... Well I guess pink is close. Glad you're getting some use out of that bug.
Rat: Scorponok an' Hrafni seem ta like it. *comes into the room, shimmering like he was made of gold* How'd'I look?
Nightwish: *looks up, pauses, and then smirks* Very nice.
Rat: *gives her a toothy grin* We're goin' to a casino. Gotta look th' part. Oh, by th' way? Yer Lunacy, I'm Hardluck, got it?
Nightwish: I'm going? ...Lunacy? *looks at him sideways*
Rat: *shrugs one shoulder* If ya want. 'N yeah, don' it gotta ring to it? *smirks* Like you'll jus' fly off th' handle an' tear a mech ta pieces at th' snap've a finger.
Nightwish: *runs a hand over his head* I'm over the mood swings, remember? Do I need to dress up?
Rat: S'got nothin' ta do wit' th' mood swings, babe. S'bout makin' a presence. Y'look big, shore, but th' kinda people we'll be cozyin' upta need a name ta back it up. S'why I'm Hardluck. An' do wha'cha wan'.
Nightwish: Am I going as your bodyguard? Or your femme?
Rat: Let dem decide, ehn? *grins at her*
Nightwish: *grins back and sets the coat down as she gets up* I'll see what I can do.
Rat: Good girl. See if y'cin somehow pull off both, would'ya? Make me look even more like hot stuff dat way. *shrugs into his pimp coat and plops his hat onto his head*
Nightwish: *thinks a moment, and then grabs the big silk sheet from the pile of blankets by Rat's bed. A bit of quick ripping and tying, and she's wearing a shimmering gold halter and a matching loincloth that reaches past her knees*
Rat: *pulls on a pair of shades that look like he stole them from Prowl, then looks her over* Slag, girl. So dat's why I keep ya around.
Nightwish: *chuckle* I thought it was because I wouldn't leave.
Rat: Dat too. *grabs his cane and swaggers to the door* Well, den, time ta brief th' crew.
Nightwish: *follows and then stops short as something drops on Rat from above and tries to eat his face*
Rat: *pulls Dinobaby off his face* Hey, watch th' shades!
Dinobaby: *howling mad and cussing about being abandoned*
Rat: *holds Dinobaby out at arm's length, waiting for him to calm down*
Dinobaby: *struggle, snarl!* Big liar!
Rat: Well I am a rat.
Dinobaby: *starts to cry* Left me behind. No honor.
Rat: *pulls him close and snuggles tight* I'm sorry.
Dinobaby: *shakes with the force of his grief*
Nightwish: >_>. *pretends not to see*
Rat: *nuzzles and peppers his face with little kisses*
Dinoclone: *slinks up with a sneer* Urgh, are you spoiling him again?
Rat: Go stuff yer head inna toilet, cloneboy. I'll spoil 'im all I want.
Nightwish: *eyes the clone* There's no honor in pointing out the weakness of someone who can't help it.
Dinoclone: *snarls* And there's no honor in raising him without it.
Nightwish: He thinks more about honor than you show it.
Dinoclone: *growls dangerously*
Rat: Yanno, as much as I'd love ta see you two go at it, really, I would, I need ya both in- Neva'mind, you two have fun. I'm briefin' th' troops.
Nightwish: *shows Dinoclone the hand and turns to quirk a brow ridge at Rattrap*
Dinobaby: *has killer hiccups*
Rat: *ignores them and does his best to soothe the chibi on his way to the bridge*
Nightwish: *goes with, idly batting Rat's little protection drone out of the way as it floats into her face*
Terrorsaur: *was not just sitting on the captain's chair, noooooooo. He's been over here, sitting on this console the whole time* So what's this casino mission thing Spazz announced?
Star: Yeah! How is a casino a mission?
Rat: *gives the two fliers the stinkeye, then plops down in his chair* Well, Spazz wanned ta know if it was a mission 'r leave. I figger since we ain't done nothin' yet, it'd be kinda silly ta go on leave, ehn?
Rhinox: Plus if it's a mission you can take a cut of any winnings. *leaning his hip against Spazz's console with his arms crossed over his chest and a Lucky tucked in them*
Rat: Bingo! *grins and winks at Rhinox* Yer objectives're simple: Win more'n y'lose. Terry, dis should be easy, even fer you.
Terrorsaur: *snorts and rolls his eyes*
Rat: I don' care how ya make yer money, honestly. But I got credit cards here wit' a t'ousand each on 'em, an' dey betta' have more'n dat when ya get back. *starts handing out cards* Otha'wise I gotta think a' somethin' unpleasant fer ya ta do.
Rhinox: I'll be taking care of Lucky and Dinobot, so I won't be gambling. *lowers his head to give his tiny new son a kiss on the helm that sets the sparklet to squeaking and clicking excitedly*
Spazz: And I'll be with him.
Rat: Fine, fine. You two cin jus' spend it, den. Th' rest'a ya betta' make somethin', or lose it all tryin', y'hear?
Terry: *looks his card over, amused* How the SLAG can you afford to hand out all this credit?
Rat: I got sources. *shrugs*
Hrafni: *from where she's sitting by Star* Und me, Vader?
Rat: Dere's a section fer kids dere. I'll drop ya off before, sos you cin play around an' stuff. *ruffles her ears*
Hrafni: *happy ear twitch* Alright!
Dinobaby: *has face smushed on Rat, is starting to snore softly*
Rat: *smooches the chibi, then rubs his head before handing him over to Rhinox* Make shore he knows I'm jus' in th' game room when he wakes up, will ya?
Rhinox: *nods and scoops the little guy up with Lucky, who clicks and cuddles* Do you know where he left Small Cheetor?
shipSpazz: I do.
Rat: Oh, an' one last thing... As y'cin see, I'm all dressed up fancy fer dis. Now, I ain't sayin' y'gotta do th' same, but if ya need somethin' from me, y'ain't gonna be comin' up an' callin' me Rattrap, or any variant there-of. Fer tanight, I'm MacDaddy Hardluck, an' dese're my associates, Lunacy an' Knuckledusta'. *points to Wish and Dinoclone* Youse all got it?
Spazz: *sniggerfit from the shadow of Rhinox*
Rhinox: *giving the sleeping Dinobaby his Yorick* Got it.
Hrafni: Ja, Vader. Should I dress up too? *currently wearing nothing but a breach-cloth*
Rat: *strokes his chin* Yanno, since yer my lil' girl an' all... Ya at least need some bling. Actually, I could use some too. *holds his hand out to her* C'mon baby girl, let's see what kinna shinies Daddy's got lyin' 'round.
Spazz: *thoughtfully, as Hrafni goes to Rat and takes his hand* Maybe brush her hair, too.
Rat: *looks at Hrafni* .......Why?
Spazz: Because most beings with hair only have it look like that if they're orphans.
Hrafni: 0_0
Rat: Hey, I'm jus' a robot, whaddo I know about hair? *grumbles* C'mon, I'm sure dere's a brush 'round here somewhere.
Rhinox: I have a comb. *pulls out a wooden one with an advertisement for a brand of shampoo that tastes pretty good on it*
Rat: Dat woiks. *grabs the comb and gives it a little wave* Okay, yer all dismissed. Spazz, make th' final approach! *turns and leads Hrafni back to their rooms to find some bling*
~At the Casino~
Rat: *walks into the Casino, holding Hrafni's hand, his two "associates" flanking him. The rest of the crew files out behind him, going their own ways*
Hrafni: *wearing a strapless wrap dress of golden silk that used to be the pillow case that went with the sheet Nightwish is wearing. Also has her hair neatly braided into pigtails and adorned with sparkling ribbons. There's a string of gold coloured beads around her neck. Tiny ornaments clipped on her ears wink as she flicks her ears forward and back to try and catch every sound in this new and interesting place*
Rat: *leads Hrafni over to the kiddie area and kisses her cheek* All right sweety, you play nice wit' th' otha' kids. Jus' rememba', dey ain't all as tough as you, mkay?
Hrafni: *looks at him with her big dark eyes and tells him she'll win him a prize in one of the children's games she can see through the door. Then gives him a hug, waves to Nightwish, and scampers away*
Nightwish: *small wave back*
Rat: *adjusts his hat and shades, then swaggers to the Game Room, grinning from audio to audio* Time ta make 'n impression, you two.
Nightwish: *shoulders back and wings tucked behind her back instead of cloaked over her shoulders. Strutting as only a cat can strut as the bright lights glint off her finish and her dress*
Dinoclone: *rolls his optic, but follows along anyway, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was*
Rat: *throws open the doors, making half the room stop and turn to stare at them. He smirks and nods to himself, swaggering over to the money counter* So sweetcheeks, what kinna currency d'y'all accept here, ehn?
slender, bird-like teller: *glances toward the four hulking reptilian bouncers who flank one of the two nearby doors and makes a sign with the feathers of one winghand even as she trills a musical smile at Rat* Casino Rock takes every known currency in the galaxy, except for Elite doubloons.
Rat: *holds up a card and slides it over the counter* I got two mil Cybertronian Credits on dis card here. Would'ya be a peach an' gimme some chips fer th' card tables? I think I hear dem callin' my name.
teller: *crystal chime as she takes the card and feeds it to the chip machine* Will your assistants be playing?
Rat: *looks over his shoulder at the pair. The glare Dinoclone's giving him clearly says NO >: |* Ehn... You wanna, babycakes? *looks at Nightwish*
Nightwish: *languid smile* This is your party, bossman.
teller: *unsure now. On the one hand many wealthy fat cats don't let their people play, but she's getting the vibes that this guy's bodyguards might be more than just guards, or the female at the least. Decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and signals to the bouncers that he's to be let into the VIP section*
Rat: Heh. I'd ratha' have ya play th' distraction enyway. *grins and flips the hem of Nightwish's skirt, then grabs his chips and tucks them into subspace* So I take it th' big lizards're gonna show me th' good tables, den? *flashes a smile, taking a few steps in their direction*
teller: *slightly surprised but chimes sweetly as she replies* That's right, sir. Have fun and good luck! ^_^
two inner bouncers: *slide the double doors open and bow the party inside*
Rat: *winks and blows the teller a kiss before sliding through the doors, giving the bouncers a smooth, distracted smirk*
Dinoclone: *growls quietly at the bouncers, trailing behind Rattrap. He whips around and catches up to the smaller mech when Rattrap snaps his finger, however*
Rat: *wanders around the room, looking the tables over, checking out other people's chip piles, and watching the games*
Nightwish: *positively shimmering in the lights, and collecting glances and stares from all manner of male beings as she holds her position at Rattrap's flank. Her wings are just slightly furled now, and held out behind her*
Pink and Sky blue Biker Femme: *leans against a bulky rock golem with gold veins running across him. She double takes as Rat and his "guards" pass by*
Rat: *glances at her and takes a seat at the golem's table, casually leaning back in his chair and tossing a few chips out* Deal me in when y'get th' chance, would'ya?
Nightwish: *stands at Rat's shoulder, leaning against his chair just slightly. The gesture seems to say 'This bot is under my protection'. There is also a whisper of 'this bot is mine', but it's so faint that most will probably miss it*
Golem: *glares at rat with Rat with eyes like glowing embers, then turns attention to his cards as the dealer hands out the next round*
Rat: *ignores the look and grabs his card, glancing them over* So what game we playin' enyway?
Biker Femme: *facepalms*
Golem: *rumbles* Baccarat.
Nightwish: *distracted by looking at that vicious-looking pig guard over there like she wants to make chili out of him*
Rat: *without looking behind him* Luna, don' terrorize th' suckas's men.
Nightwish: *absently rubs his shoulder with one hand* I'm only looking, bossman.
Rat: Lookin's not always a good idea.
Biker Femme: *snorts* It's a good way ta getcher aft beat, s'what it is.
Golem: Quiet. *draws a card*
Biker Femme: *rolls her optics*
Nightwish: *just smirks and looks at the table, not showing her surprise as she catches the sound of the mean pig's knees knocking*
Rat: ....Yanno, I jus' realized I got no idea what I'm doin'. How'd'ya even play dis game? *scrunches up his nose and tosses his cards onto the table, showing a four and a five* Dis looks like a sucky hand ta me.
Golem: *looks at him, brow slowly furrowing*
Biker Femme: Yer 'n idiot, Rans.
Rat: *smirks* T'ought it was you, Rizza.
Nightwish: *steps on Dinoclone's foot to forestall comment*
Dinoclone: *half roars, biting down on it and shooting Wish a glare*
Rat: Luna, play nice. *swats at her* I'd wonda'd where ya wanda'd off ta, Rizza. How'd'ya get out here?
Rizza: Ain't nona yer bidness, Rans. Jus' go home 'n tell Cutta' hi. Y'don' b'long here.
Rat: Look who's talkin', lil girl. *smirks*
Nightwish: *doesn't seem to be aware of the conversation, though she is. She's found away past the local firewalls and is downloading a file on game rules*
Rizza: *razzes him, squeaking a bit when the golem gives her a nudge*
Rat: *laughs* Right. I'll leave ya t'yer articulate boyfriend dere. Jus' wanned ta stop in an' harrass my lil sista'.
Rizza: Go screw yerself to a woikbench, Rans. *makes a rude gesture in his direction*
Rat: *laughs and gets up, grabbing his chips before anyone can stop him and moving on* Slag, if dese rooms ain't stuffy. Wonda' if dere's a race I cin bet on, or some sorta gladiator tourney.
Nightwish: *databursts him the game rule file* There's jelly racing over at the back of the room.
Rat: Jelly racing?
Nightwish: *looking over many people's heads* That's what the sign says.
Rat: Th' Pit is dat? Okay, dis I gotta see.
jelly racing arena: *separated from the rest of the plushly decorated room by a low barrier. Down below is an obstacle course which includes such things as spike belts and a big patch of salt. And moving swiftly over this course are several... pastel blobs of jelly. Even as Rat and his group find a place where Rat can see a blue blob expires and melts into the salt trap, to the vocal disappointment of several spectators*
Rat: ......Oh. My. Primus. *covers his mouth and gigglesnerks* Dis is... dis is jus' ridiculous.
Dinoclone: How in the world...?
Nightwish: They're simple multicellular scavenger beings. Each one's been trained to respond to that chime you hear, and they're all trying to get to the finish line and get something to eat.
yellow jelly: *turns into a puddle halfway over a wall*
Rat: Gotta pretty high mortality rate, don' dey?
Nightwish: *reaches over and helps herself to the holo pamphlet she'd been reading, to the startlement of the elderly furry being who'd been holding it. Smiles back as the old lady smiles at her, and then shows the bit of hard light to Rat*
Rat: *looks the hologram over, tilts his head to the side* ...Huh. Ain't th' whole blob. Weeeiiiird. *flicks his tail and folds his arms over the railing, resting his chin on it* Bet Star'd have a hissy fit if we got onna dose.
Nightwish: He'd never eat Jello again.
green jelly: *over the finish line first!*
spectators: *much too fancy to cheer. Only start getting ready to bet on the next race*
Rat: He spends foreva' pokin' at it as it is. *gonna go bet on the pink jelly now*
pink jelly: *lively and climbing up the side of its holding container, but not a favorite in the betting. If it wins Rat will make a killing*
Nightwish: *looks at the notes on it* First split of a new jelly. It's untried.
Rat: An' it's pink. No one else is bettin' on it. Dem's my kinna odds. *bets a thousand credits on it with a smirk*
Dinoclone: It's going to explode on the first hurdle.
Rat: *laughs* Y'd think dat, woul'n'chu?
jelly: *trying to get out of the container, lands on the bottom with a splat as somebody raps on the clear canister with a stick*
Nightwish: *murmurs as the canisters are lifted and the chime starts ringing* There they go.
Rat: *leans over the railing, grinning like a loon* C'mon Pinky! Win Daddy Hardluck some big bucks!
pink jelly: *over walls and across glass gravel patches like a rosy cannonball, goes right over an unfortunate purple jelly and uses it for a bridge over the salt flat, then leaps both spike belts before splattering against the last wall. Sits there for a minute....*
nebulan aristocrat: It's finished.
Rat: Ehn.... *pouts, resting his chin on the rail* It'll come back. S'like in holo vids, dey gotta look defeated b'fore dey cin win.
pink jelly: *finishes licking the wall and is over the finish line even before the finish line attendant realizes it. Bell rings!*
Rat: *fistpumps* YES! Oh, I am GOOD! *does a little dance, but stops when he realizes people are staring at him* ....What? Jus' cuz all you rich slobs're stuffy don' mean we all are.
Nightwish: *chuckles* Want me to go get your credit, Macdaddy Hardluck?
Rat: *grins up at her* Would'ya please, Lunababy?
Dinoclone: *scowls at the pink jelly as the keepers put it back into its container*
Rat: *elbows him lightly* Credit fer yer t'oughts?
Dinoclone: *grunts* Just wondering what it is that made that blob so much more... livelier than the others.
pink jelly: *is wanting OUT! But gets carried away*
Nightwish: *off to get the chips*
nebulan aristocrat: I demand that that creature be tested for drugs!
casino attendant: You can't drug jellies. There's just no possible way.
Dinoclone: *looks over* What about accelerants?
attendant: Also not possible.
strolling waitress: *offers Rat jelly candies that look just like miniature jellies*
Rat: *squeals in delight, waggles his fingers, and takes a few candies* Oooh, don' mind if I do, dollface! *winks at the waitress*
waitress: *dimples at Rat*
Dinoclone: Something about the food then? Maybe something that metabolizes quickly for bursts of energy?
attendant: Racing jellies are tamper proof, unless you salt them or roast them. That's why people go to the ends of the galaxy to try and find the things. And why they're worth so much, because the demand outstrips the supply.
Rat: *is going to lean against the rail and flirt with the waitress now. He smiles roguishly at her and lets his shades slide down his nose a bit so that he can peer over the rim*
waitress: *flirts back, and here comes another with drinks*
Dinoclone: *scowls and looms over the attendant* Just where do these "jellies" come from, then? Is that pink one from another location than the rest?
attendant: They all come from our stables right here, and they have for over fifty years.
guy that just walked up: Actually, that's not true.
attendant: *frowns and then blinks* Mr. Smith, sir. Your jelly's not from the stable?
Rat: *going get a drink and flirt with that waitress too*
Dinoclone: Are you the owner of the pink jelly? *eyes Mr. Smith*
Mr. Smith: *is one of those funny looking guys commonly called trunkhoppers. Organics who happily eat energon whenever they can get it, and who are known for their good nature and truthfulness* Yes I am. And the trainer.
Dinoclone: I am curious. What is it about your jelly that makes it better than all the rest? My.... *pauses and snarls to himself* employer here just won a lot of money off it.
Mr. Smith: *grins* It's a wild jelly.
attendant: *stares at him*
Dinoclone: *impressed, but not sure why* Minimum training, I assume?
Mr. Smith: No, it's fully trained. It just hasn't had years of being fed and protected to calm it down.
Dinoclone: Ah, I see. It's fresh. *nods and turns to Rattrap* Your jelly is wild, Rrrr-Hardluck.
Rat: *has somehow managed to gather a small crowd of servers, has no idea what the clone's talking about* You bet'cher tailpipe my jelly's wild!
Mr. Smith: *snerk*
Dinoclone: *going to facepalm now* Moron...
Rat: Yeah, whateva', y'dumb lizard. Yo, did Luna eva' come back? *hops up a bit, trying to look over all the girls*
Nightwish: *coming back with two massive canvas bags in her hands, and being stared at for the feat of strength now instead of her appearance and attitude*
Rat: Ah, dere's my money! *flashes a grin at the waitresses and bounces over* Hey, you think I got enough ta buy a chunk a' dat pink goo?
Dinoclone: Wild pink jelly, ssssir. *scowl*
Rat: Yeah, an' somma dat too!
Mr. Smith: I don't know. Jellies can go for over a million galactic credits.
waitresses: *many scattering after a glimpse of Nightwish*
Rat: *looks up at Wish* Luna? How much did dat last race net me, exactly?
Nightwish: One billion seven hundred credits. *looks at the several glances that just sharpened and smiles a predatory smile*
Rat: *looks over to Mr. Smith* I only wan' a handful've it. I think I cin afford it.
Mr. Smith: *grins and pulls a jar out of his pocket* The small pink contents looks nearly just like the candies Rat just ate. The only difference being that the tiny jelly is moving.
Rat: *looks at the jelly jar, then at Mr. Smith* Any chance dat was a part a' my winner?
Mr. Smith: The pink is the only jelly I own right now. I brought this out to see if anyone was interested in some.
Rat: Whaddo dey eat?
Mr. Smith: They like thin organic liquids. But this one still knows how to lick moss off walls and stuff.
Nightwish: So the larger piece that raced was licking up....
Mr. Smith: What was left of the last one that melted there. Yeah.
Dinoclone: So it cleans?
Mr. Smith: *nods* But you have to keep it away from things that would dry it out. Their outer skins aren't very thick.
baby jelly: *crawling around. Dun like the jar!*
Dinoclone: We're taking it.
Rat: Hey-! Jus' who's in charge here, ehn?
Dinoclone: *smirks down at Rat* You're disgusting. I'm feeding you to the jelly, whether you like it or not.
Rat: *flails and splutters*
Nightwish: *drops a bag of chips on Dinoclone*
Mr. Smith: *Unfazed by threats and violence* They don't eat dead robots. Or live ones. They actually prefer vegetable stuff.
attendant: Ah... the carnesaur matches are starting.
Dinoclone: *snaps at Nightwish, cringes, then growls* I know that! But Rrrrr-Hardluck is covered in FILTH. If he held the jelly in hisss servos alone, the thing would grow substantially fatter!
Rat: I LIKE th' way I am! You cain't make me be clean! *shakes his fists at the clone*
Dinoclone: *leans down, growling low in his throat* Watch me.
Dinoclone: *throws his head back in a howl of rage and pain. He lashes out with his claw, slashing at the arm connected to the hand in his circuits*
Rat: *splutters and flails* Hey, stop it-!
Nightwish: *stops it. Also doesn't even look at the arm that got slashed at*
Dinoclone: *growls low in his throat, his laser optic glowing bright red*
Rat: *swears a blue streak, then grabs the attendant* Hey, you said somethin' 'bout Carnesaurs? Anyway I cin enta' 'n ova'grown rapta' inta th' match?
attendant: *startled* Ah, not with the carnesaurs, sir. They're highly trained champions and extremely valuable.
Rat: He'd neva' leave beast mode, I SWEAR!
attendant: *shakes his head* I'm sorry. That's just not possible. But if you like you could rent a holo room and play one of the fighting scenarios.
Rat: *snarls and shoves the attendant away* I got my own, thanks. If dey ain't enough ta woik out his aggression, yers smeltin' won't be.
Mr. Smith: *looking a bit sad because he seems to have missed out finding a home for his baby jelly* You could send him to the next asteroid over and throw him down the worm pit.
Rat: Dat... could woik. *eyes the clone and grunts, then turns back to Mr. Smith* Sorry 'bout dat. Enyway, you was sayin' dem jellies is woith millions? Y'got 'n exact figyah in mind, or do I gotta make 'n offer?
Mr. Smith: *perks and nods* I want at least a million and a half for this one.
attendant: ...That's the price of a trained racer.
Mr. Smith: *holds up the jar to show baby jelly still trying to find OUT* It's worth it.
Rat: *holds up his hands* Hey, don' need ta convince me, I was gonna take it ta begin wit'. Actually, I got a credit card wit' two mil. on it. Would it be easiah fer ya ta jus' take dat?
Mr. Smith: *blinks and then grins* If you're sure.
Rat: *jerks his thumb towards Nightwish and his winnings* I think I cin afford it.
Mr. Smith: Alright. *offers little jelly*
Rat: *pulls out a card and trades it for the jelly. Immediately, he takes off the lid and lets out the little pink blob, which scoots up his arm and comes to a rest on his shoulder under the coat, happily licking the grime off him*
Mr. Smith: *puts the card away and gives him some pointers on jelly care and training* What you do is put them in a box with a chime on one side and some salt on the other. Put some sweet water on the floor on the chime side. After awhile they'll love the chime and see it as a signal of safety and food.
Rat: *nods, reaching up to pat the jelly, which starts licking at his fingers. He giggles*
Mr. Smith: But I have to go now. I don't want to miss the match between Death's Head and Mama Murder.
Rat: Dose're awesome names. *grins and follows him, snapping his fingers to get the clone and Wish's attention*
Mr. Smith: They're awesome lizards! You don't get too many females in the fighting circuit, because they're just too mean to train. But Mama Murder's only mean in the ring. Her handlers can even go right in her pit with her.
Rat: Sounds like cloneboy back dere, only I hafta have a program reign 'im in.
Dinoclone: *growls and makes a half-hearted swipe at Rat's tail as the rodent grins back at him*
Mr. Smith: Nah. Mama Murder's pretty. Hey, you want to sit in my box?
Rat: Well yeah, she's female. I'd be worried if Knuckledusta' was pretty. *snickers, ducking his head to dodge another half-hearted swipe* If ya don' mind th' goons, I'd love ta.
Mr. Smith: I don't mind. *leads them down a special hallway and up a flight of stairs* It's not a live fight, but they've got the big wrap around screen. So it'll seem like we're even closer than you can get at a live match.
Rat: Dey got live fights available, or is it jus' on-screen only?
Mr. Smith: Just the on-screen. The asteroid's not big enough for carnesaurs. *opens the door to a plush and comfortable box with a private drink and snack bar*
Rat: Ah, yeah. Dat makes sense. *glances around the room and snaps his fingers* Make yerselves at home, you two.
Dinoclone: *grunts and will now proceed to raid the snack bar*
Nightwish: *settles in a seat and puts her leg over the arm, her optics turned curiously toward the massive screens, which have just gone dark at the end of a match*
Mr. Smith: *helping himself to... cinnaSeekers! from the snack bar*
Rat: *grabs a beer and flops down in Wish's lap, snuggling up against her*
Mr. Smith: Careful. Don't squish the jelly!
Rat: Ehn? *checks the jelly and notices a small brown patch on his shoulder* ....Do dey eat paint?
Mr. Smith: Only if it's fresh and organic based. Some paint pigments can dry them out. *settles in his own chair and looks over with concern* I can get you a canister for it, one with some sweet in it.
Rat: Uhm, yeah. Maybe a good idea.
Mr. Smith: *goes and pulls it out of the cupboard where he left it awhile back because he wanted to watch a fight instead of putting things away where they went* There you go.
Rat: *urges the jelly into the jar, but leaves the lid off* Ah, thanks. Din't want th' cute lil' guy ta dry out on me.
pink jelly: *lots of room and lots of sweet. Settles down to absorb the food and grow*
Mr. Smith: *grins, but then hastily flops into his chair as the betting attendant arrives to see if he wants to put any money down*
Rat: I suppose Mama Murder's th' safe bet, ehn?
Mr. Smith: They're both good. This is gonna be an even match.
attendant: Good? Sir, they're both champions!
Rat: D'you own onna dem dinos? *eyes the attendant*
attendant: No sir. But they're legends.
Mr. Smith: I'll bet on Mama.
Rat: Ain't no reason fer you ta get all offended ova'. I'll bet on Death's Head, jus' ta make things interestin'.
attendant: *apologizes to Rat, and then takes the bets before leaving the box*
dramatic music: *starts up*
Rat: *returns to happily snuggling his big femme, one hand rubbing her stomach*
Dinoclone: *looks up from his strategic disemboweling of the snack bar and leans over the counter to watch the fight*
Nightwish: *cuddles Rat and pushes his hat back on his head*
Mr. Smith: *as the music swells* Now jelly racing is worth a lot of money, but it's just a little game. The only hard part is getting enough jellies to do it with. Carnesaur fighting, on the other hand, is years of investment and training, and thousands of dollars worth of equipment for some really beautiful animals.
Dinoclone: As to be expected from any fighter worth their salt.
Nightwish: *small sound of interest as the music reaches the climax and the curtains sweep back. And then she sits up as she takes in the size of the beasts it reveals, both of which might be fully capable of making a blue whale look normal*
Rat: *whines in protest as he's moved*
Mr. Smith: *grins* That's Mama, and that's Death's Head. He's kind of a runt, but that's never held him back.
Death's Head: *Stone grey with pewter coloured armor over his vitals and decorating his head in an ornate helmet. Red eyes shine as he stands calmly behind a rope stretched in front of him and sends the occasional snarl toward his opponent*
Mama Murder: *seems almost to dwarf the male, and the white armor that she wears shows such a contrast to her black hide and golden eyes as to make her seem even bigger. She's more restless than Death's Head, lowering her head and pushing the attendant robots around with her muzzle between powerful bellows of confident threat*
Rat: *glances back at the clone, trying not to smile* Glad my money's on him den. He's gorgeous.
Dinoclone: *rumbles and leaps over the snack bar counter, shifting to his beast mode. He settles down at Rat's feet, eyes transfixed upon the screen*
Mr. Smith: *grinning widely* Now what they have to do is make three marks on the other one's flank. The first one to do that wins.
Dinoclone: Do they ever have troubles... reigning them in?
Mr. Smith: Not these two. They've been fighting for a long time, and they know the game. Mama won't even flirt in the arena, like some females do.
Dinoclone: Such control....
Rat: *smiles and runs a hand over the raptor's head, making his red optics flicker* You'll hafta fergive 'im. Dusta's 'n old warria' himself.
Dinoclone: *growls and turns his head back to nip at Rattrap's fingertips*
Mr. Smith: I kind of figured they both were. *looks at Nightwish, then turns quickly as a horn sounds and the two massive reptilians charge toward one another and collide with an earth shaking impact* Wow!
Rat: *chuckles quietly and settles down to watch the match*
Death's Head: *knocked flying, but quickly twists around and shoves Mama Murder away with both feet before leaping upright with surprising agility for something so large and lacking in other limbs, wheels around and tries a flanking maneuver....
Mama Murder: *counters! lashing out with her spike-club equipped tail and then striking with a foot spur*
Rat: *cringes* Oooh, dat looks painful.
Mr. Smith: *holding his breath, but then shakes his head* Nope, she missed the target area and hit his armor.
Rat: Still, ouch. *rubs his side in sympathy*
Dinoclone: *growls* Maybe to someone as delicate as you....
Rat: Yeah... Good thing we ain't all brutes like you.
sound: *cuts out for a moment as Mama Murder opens her maw and gives a subsonic bellow that would pulverize most organic brains*
Death's Head: *staggers back only a little, and then leaps into the air, managing to come down on the female's head*
Mr. Smith: He's deaf. So that move never works with him.
Rat: *nodnods* Prolly from hearin' dat one too many times, ehn?
Mr. Smith: Nah. The red-eyed strain are all deaf. *winces and hides his eyes as a flurry of activity nearly blocks out the camera for a few minutes*
Rat: Oooooh....
Dinoclone: Would that I was so blessed. *nips at Rattrap's hand again*
Rat: *snickers and gives his maw a playful little punch*
Mr. Smith: First blood! In the wrong place.
Nightwish: *settling down comfortably again, though she's still watching the match closely*
Rat: Does dat count 'gainst 'im?
Mr. Smith: Nah. It doesn't count at all.
Rat: What if onna dem dies cuz dey bleed out cuza damage ev'rywhere but th' flank?
Mr. Smith: *shakes his head* All the dangerous spots are covered. Wow!
Death's Head: *jaws close around Mama Murder's leg, and then he's lifting and trying to toss her*
Mama Murder: *nearly tossed! Throws her weight forward instead and then ducks her head down to bite at Death's Head's leg*
Rat: Yeah, cuz losin' a leg ain't no big thang.
Dinoclone: *snerks* Says the rodent who loses fingers to a sparkling.
Rat: Ehn... yeah well...
Mr. Smith: *chuckles* These two have both been fighting for around fifty years. They know what they're doing.
fight: *an epic, drawn-out flurry of attacks and counter attacks, blood, and rapid movement. And then Mr. Smith is gaping as the bell announces the end of the match*
Mr. Smith: A TIE???
Nightwish: They marked each other at the same time.
Rat: So do I get my money back, or do we both get money?
Mr. Smith: *sits forward as the announcers talk* *on the forgotten screen the two big dinos are now nuzzling each other and sniffing at their wounds*
announcer: *declares Death's Head the winner, because he made his first two target marks before Mama Murder made hers*
Rat: Awesome! *fistpumps* Sorry man, but Lady Luck adores me. *flashes a grin*
Mr. Smith: *good natured grin as the curtains close* Wasn't that an awesome fight, though?
Dinoclone: T'was honorably fought.
Rat: *shrugs and smirks* Ain't nothin' like bein' dere, but yeah, dat was somethin'.
Mr. Smith: I think it's the best game in the galaxy. Those slagging Elite have no right to declare it illegal. *getting up and going to the snack bar*
Rat: Th' Elite?
Mr. Smith: A bunch of humans who think they rule the area. *scowl* They think love is something disgusting, and they all act like they have sticks in bad places.
Rat: 'Umans? Seriously? Jus' 'umans? *arches an eyebrow*
Mr. Smith: Snotty ones. Everyone knows the JDs are the law around here.
Rat: So... why don'cha jus' scrap 'em?
Mr. Smith: My people don't fight. And the JDs protect them like they protect everyone else.
Rat: Not me. I ain't from th' area, y'might say.
Mr. Smith: Oh, so you don't know about the Green Dancer?
Rat: Dunno nothin' 'bout nothin'. I was jus' passin' t'rough, saw dis place, an' t'ought it'd be good fer a few laughs.
Mr. Smith: Ohhh. *grabs a datapad and asks Rat for his frequency, then quickly writes a list of good spots and so that he can send it to Rat's datapad*
Rat: Here, dis is easiah. *brings his tail up and plugs the tip into the datapad, downloading the information*
Mr. Smith: Cool. *grin*
Nightwish: *checks the jeweled chrono on her wrist* We should be getting back. Big Green just reported that his credit card can't hold any more credit.
Rat: *lets out a low whistle* Looks like ev'ryone's cleanin' up tanight.
Nightwish: *kisses him on the head through his hat* I wonder how Dumb and Dumber are doing.
Rat: What, Terrorsaur an' Star?
Nightwish: Oh, I know how Star's doing.
Rat: Insanely well, I'm sure.
Hrafni: *calls Rat's comlink wondering if they're done yet, because she's out of money now and has enough prizes*
Rat: //Yeah baby, jus' a moment, I'm comin'.// *reluctantly gets to his feet and dusts off* Well, it was nice ta meet'cha, enyway, Mista Smith, but I gotta be goin'.
Mr. Smith: *grins* Yeah, it was fun. Grab some stuff from the snack counter if you want on the way out. It's all mine.
Rat: *blinkblinks and looks to the counter* I din't think Dusta' left anythin' behind.
Dinoclone: *growls* I would not be so ungracious as to eat all our host's food.
Rat: Ehn! *sticks his tongue out at the clone and grabs munchies*
Nightwish: *snerking from where she's waiting by the door with the bags of chips* You want me to go cash these?
Rat: Yus! We'll meet'cha by th' entrance. I gotta go pick up Hrafni 'n all.
Nightwish: *nods and goes*
Mr. Smith: *having some munchies himself* She's pretty.
Rat: She's somethin' else, dat's for shore. *smirks to himself* I'm a lucky mech, I tell ya dat.
Mr. Smith: *curious* She's your mate?
Rat: *shrugs one shoulder* Mistress'd prolly be a closa' term. She's free ta do whateva' she wants, an' I ain't so good at monogamy. *starts heading towards the door, snapping his fingers and calling the clone to his side* But she's havin' my baby.
Mr. Smith: Aren't you guys Transformers?
Rat: ....Yeah, but it's complicated. We ain't from 'round here.
Mr. Smith: A lot of people aren't. I just hadn't realized Transformers multiplied that way.
Rat: Like I said, it's complicated. We ah... got mixed technology, y'could say.
Dinoclone: In other words, he's disgusting and did disgusting things to the femme which resulted in an unholy creation which-mmff!
Rat: *slaps his hands over the clone's mouth* He dun need ta know details, lizard brain, sheesh!
Mr. Smith: *shrugs one shoulder with a chuckle* Hey, my people grow from rock seeds.
Rat: *rolls his optics with a grin* You people an' yer kinky ways. C'mon, Dusta', Hrafni's waitin'. *pushes the door open and waves over his shoulder* Thanks fer th' info an' th' show!
Mr. Smith: *waves* You're welcome!
Rat: *heads to the kiddie area, the clone trailing behind. Once he arrives, he cups his hands over his mouth and shouts* Hey, Princess!
Hrafni: *scoots out, a single stuffed animal with long silky fur in her arms. Hugs Rattrap and then offers him the toy*
Rat: *hugs Hrafni and takes the toy* Fer me, precious? Daww, dat's so sweet! Thank you! *smooches her cheek*
Hrafni: *twitches her ears, though she seems to be forcing herself to smile and her dark eyes look troubled* I said that I vould bring you a prize, Vader.
Nightwish: *comes walking up with the jelly jar in one hand*
Rat: It's adorable, sweety. *frowns, kneeling down to her height* What's wrong, did somethin' happen?
Hrafni: *looks at the ground* They asked me to promise not to tell my parents.
Rat: *growls quietly* What happened? Why would dey tell ya dat?
Hrafni: I can't tell you.
Nightwish: So tell the clone.
Dinoclone: *blink* What?
Rat: *blink* Hey, yeah. He ain'cher parents.
Hrafni: *looks up at Dinoclone* There are kinder living in the exploration maze. Their parents told them to vaite there, und then never came back for them. *sniffles slightly and wipes at her face with one hand* I gave them all my money except for the price of the game to get Vader's toy.
Dinoclone: *jerks back and looks over to Rattrap*
Rat: An' th' casino ALLOWS dis?
Hrafni: *to Dinoclone* The kinder are good at hiding. No vone knows they're there. But I heard them.
Dinoclone: That is... what parent would...
Rat: How do dey survive? I mean, dey gotta eat 'n all...
Hrafni: *still speaking to the clone* They said their parents vere poor. But that they loved to come und play the games. Und now the kinder steal to try und survive.
Dinoclone: *looks pointedly at Rattrap*
Rat: *splutters* What?! I feel bad 'bout it, don' gimme wrong! But... whaddya wan' me ta do 'bout it?
Nightwish: I'm telling the police.
Dinoclone: *transforms to robot mode and takes the jelly jar from Wish, nodding at her with a grunt* Tis the least that can be done.
Nightwish: *turns and stalks away, her wings half furled and her pace deliberate and determined. A few moments later several large reptilian guys of a different sort than the bouncers are filing quickly into the children's area*
Rat: *watches with a cringe, arms crossed over his chest* Man, but dat seems a bit... rough fer kids. Ain't dere fault...
nearby person who stopped to look: Kids? The JDs are going after kids?
Rat: *shrugs, looking uncomfortable* Dere parents dumped 'em here.
person: *smile that holds no meanness* Well if the JDs can find them they'll be alright. Those big guys spoil kids rotten.
Rat: Oh, really? *tries not to look too relieved* Well, dat's good den! *looks down at Hrafni with a smile* S'good?
Hrafni: *nods and wipes her eyes again, ears twitching in a real smile this time. One of her pigtails has come unraveled*
Spazz: //Yo, Rat. We're home already, and Nightwish just showed up and went and holed up in her office. Where are you?//
Rat: *picks up Hrafni and gives her a good snuggle* //Jus' finishin' up some bidness. We're on our way.// You two ready?
Hrafni: I'm ready, Vader.
Rat: *leans against Dinobot and 'points them all back to the ship*
Rhinox: *hands him a credit card. And then hands him a couple more*
Rat: *blinks* What's dis? Whaddid you do?
Rhinox: *smirking* Made money.
Rat: HOW?!
Rhinox: *winces and dances the littles he's holding* I swear, Rattrap, if you wake these two up....
Rat: *puts Hrafni down and takes Dinobaby from him* Dere. Now I get bit if one wakes up. Now whaddid you do?
Rhinox: Sold cinnaSeekers for less than the casino sells them.
Spazz: The trunkhoppers were coming out of the woodwork.
Rat: ..... *snerks and cackles* Genius!
Rhinox: *just smirks, then glances at Starcaller* You ready to call it a night?
Star: *looks up from the GIGANTIC pretzel he's noming and nods* Just as soon as I finish this I will be.
Rhinox: *nods and gently rubs his head, then offers his sleeping baby brother to kiss*
Starcaller: *gives Lucky a salty kiss on the cheek* Oopsies... *gently brushes off the salt and crumbs, smiling sheepishly at Rhinox* I like sodium. It's crunchy.
Rhinox: *just grins and rubs his head again like a human father would ruffle his kid's hair, then dips slightly so that Spazz can get up on his shoulder and heads for the door*
Spazz: *waves to Rattrap*
Rat: *waves at Spazz then shakes his head while Star goes back to nomming the pretzel* Did feisty red-head make it back?
Starcaller: You mean Terrorsaur? Yeah, he came back with me. We played slots and computer games and things.
Rat: Greeeaat. I was half-hopin' we could leave 'im behind. *rolls his eyes with a smirk, then heads to bed himself*
Dinobaby: *wriggles and growls, then lifts his head and gives Rattrap a stink eye*
Rat: *plants a big wet smooch right on his nose and grins*
Dinobaby: *slugs Rat, and then buries his face against Small Cheetor and goes back to sleep*
Rat: *sigh* I'm still gonna snuggle you tonight, yanno dat, brat.
Dinobaby: *sleeps, his arms wrapped tightly around his doll and his sheathed sword*
Rat: *pushes the door to his room open and puts Dinobaby down on a pillow in his new pillow pit bed. He slips out of his coat and puts his hat and shades on a desk, then plops down next to Dinobaby*
Dinobaby: *all curled up around his friends and snoring softly because his nose is smushed against Small Cheetor*
Rat: *snuggles the chibi and pulls his pimp coat up around them like a blanket, then closes his eyes, falling into recharge*
Rat: *in the next room, painting himself up gold and green* Yeah, Spazz had it turned inta a pimp coat. Still pink, too.
Nightwish: *lifts the coat up and looks at it* The style is called 'pimp'?
Rat: Yup. Fat cats wear it. Usually th' coats're purple 'r red dough.
Nightwish: .... Well I guess pink is close. Glad you're getting some use out of that bug.
Rat: Scorponok an' Hrafni seem ta like it. *comes into the room, shimmering like he was made of gold* How'd'I look?
Nightwish: *looks up, pauses, and then smirks* Very nice.
Rat: *gives her a toothy grin* We're goin' to a casino. Gotta look th' part. Oh, by th' way? Yer Lunacy, I'm Hardluck, got it?
Nightwish: I'm going? ...Lunacy? *looks at him sideways*
Rat: *shrugs one shoulder* If ya want. 'N yeah, don' it gotta ring to it? *smirks* Like you'll jus' fly off th' handle an' tear a mech ta pieces at th' snap've a finger.
Nightwish: *runs a hand over his head* I'm over the mood swings, remember? Do I need to dress up?
Rat: S'got nothin' ta do wit' th' mood swings, babe. S'bout makin' a presence. Y'look big, shore, but th' kinda people we'll be cozyin' upta need a name ta back it up. S'why I'm Hardluck. An' do wha'cha wan'.
Nightwish: Am I going as your bodyguard? Or your femme?
Rat: Let dem decide, ehn? *grins at her*
Nightwish: *grins back and sets the coat down as she gets up* I'll see what I can do.
Rat: Good girl. See if y'cin somehow pull off both, would'ya? Make me look even more like hot stuff dat way. *shrugs into his pimp coat and plops his hat onto his head*
Nightwish: *thinks a moment, and then grabs the big silk sheet from the pile of blankets by Rat's bed. A bit of quick ripping and tying, and she's wearing a shimmering gold halter and a matching loincloth that reaches past her knees*
Rat: *pulls on a pair of shades that look like he stole them from Prowl, then looks her over* Slag, girl. So dat's why I keep ya around.
Nightwish: *chuckle* I thought it was because I wouldn't leave.
Rat: Dat too. *grabs his cane and swaggers to the door* Well, den, time ta brief th' crew.
Nightwish: *follows and then stops short as something drops on Rat from above and tries to eat his face*
Rat: *pulls Dinobaby off his face* Hey, watch th' shades!
Dinobaby: *howling mad and cussing about being abandoned*
Rat: *holds Dinobaby out at arm's length, waiting for him to calm down*
Dinobaby: *struggle, snarl!* Big liar!
Rat: Well I am a rat.
Dinobaby: *starts to cry* Left me behind. No honor.
Rat: *pulls him close and snuggles tight* I'm sorry.
Dinobaby: *shakes with the force of his grief*
Nightwish: >_>. *pretends not to see*
Rat: *nuzzles and peppers his face with little kisses*
Dinoclone: *slinks up with a sneer* Urgh, are you spoiling him again?
Rat: Go stuff yer head inna toilet, cloneboy. I'll spoil 'im all I want.
Nightwish: *eyes the clone* There's no honor in pointing out the weakness of someone who can't help it.
Dinoclone: *snarls* And there's no honor in raising him without it.
Nightwish: He thinks more about honor than you show it.
Dinoclone: *growls dangerously*
Rat: Yanno, as much as I'd love ta see you two go at it, really, I would, I need ya both in- Neva'mind, you two have fun. I'm briefin' th' troops.
Nightwish: *shows Dinoclone the hand and turns to quirk a brow ridge at Rattrap*
Dinobaby: *has killer hiccups*
Rat: *ignores them and does his best to soothe the chibi on his way to the bridge*
Nightwish: *goes with, idly batting Rat's little protection drone out of the way as it floats into her face*
Terrorsaur: *was not just sitting on the captain's chair, noooooooo. He's been over here, sitting on this console the whole time* So what's this casino mission thing Spazz announced?
Star: Yeah! How is a casino a mission?
Rat: *gives the two fliers the stinkeye, then plops down in his chair* Well, Spazz wanned ta know if it was a mission 'r leave. I figger since we ain't done nothin' yet, it'd be kinda silly ta go on leave, ehn?
Rhinox: Plus if it's a mission you can take a cut of any winnings. *leaning his hip against Spazz's console with his arms crossed over his chest and a Lucky tucked in them*
Rat: Bingo! *grins and winks at Rhinox* Yer objectives're simple: Win more'n y'lose. Terry, dis should be easy, even fer you.
Terrorsaur: *snorts and rolls his eyes*
Rat: I don' care how ya make yer money, honestly. But I got credit cards here wit' a t'ousand each on 'em, an' dey betta' have more'n dat when ya get back. *starts handing out cards* Otha'wise I gotta think a' somethin' unpleasant fer ya ta do.
Rhinox: I'll be taking care of Lucky and Dinobot, so I won't be gambling. *lowers his head to give his tiny new son a kiss on the helm that sets the sparklet to squeaking and clicking excitedly*
Spazz: And I'll be with him.
Rat: Fine, fine. You two cin jus' spend it, den. Th' rest'a ya betta' make somethin', or lose it all tryin', y'hear?
Terry: *looks his card over, amused* How the SLAG can you afford to hand out all this credit?
Rat: I got sources. *shrugs*
Hrafni: *from where she's sitting by Star* Und me, Vader?
Rat: Dere's a section fer kids dere. I'll drop ya off before, sos you cin play around an' stuff. *ruffles her ears*
Hrafni: *happy ear twitch* Alright!
Dinobaby: *has face smushed on Rat, is starting to snore softly*
Rat: *smooches the chibi, then rubs his head before handing him over to Rhinox* Make shore he knows I'm jus' in th' game room when he wakes up, will ya?
Rhinox: *nods and scoops the little guy up with Lucky, who clicks and cuddles* Do you know where he left Small Cheetor?
shipSpazz: I do.
Rat: Oh, an' one last thing... As y'cin see, I'm all dressed up fancy fer dis. Now, I ain't sayin' y'gotta do th' same, but if ya need somethin' from me, y'ain't gonna be comin' up an' callin' me Rattrap, or any variant there-of. Fer tanight, I'm MacDaddy Hardluck, an' dese're my associates, Lunacy an' Knuckledusta'. *points to Wish and Dinoclone* Youse all got it?
Spazz: *sniggerfit from the shadow of Rhinox*
Rhinox: *giving the sleeping Dinobaby his Yorick* Got it.
Hrafni: Ja, Vader. Should I dress up too? *currently wearing nothing but a breach-cloth*
Rat: *strokes his chin* Yanno, since yer my lil' girl an' all... Ya at least need some bling. Actually, I could use some too. *holds his hand out to her* C'mon baby girl, let's see what kinna shinies Daddy's got lyin' 'round.
Spazz: *thoughtfully, as Hrafni goes to Rat and takes his hand* Maybe brush her hair, too.
Rat: *looks at Hrafni* .......Why?
Spazz: Because most beings with hair only have it look like that if they're orphans.
Hrafni: 0_0
Rat: Hey, I'm jus' a robot, whaddo I know about hair? *grumbles* C'mon, I'm sure dere's a brush 'round here somewhere.
Rhinox: I have a comb. *pulls out a wooden one with an advertisement for a brand of shampoo that tastes pretty good on it*
Rat: Dat woiks. *grabs the comb and gives it a little wave* Okay, yer all dismissed. Spazz, make th' final approach! *turns and leads Hrafni back to their rooms to find some bling*
~At the Casino~
Rat: *walks into the Casino, holding Hrafni's hand, his two "associates" flanking him. The rest of the crew files out behind him, going their own ways*
Hrafni: *wearing a strapless wrap dress of golden silk that used to be the pillow case that went with the sheet Nightwish is wearing. Also has her hair neatly braided into pigtails and adorned with sparkling ribbons. There's a string of gold coloured beads around her neck. Tiny ornaments clipped on her ears wink as she flicks her ears forward and back to try and catch every sound in this new and interesting place*
Rat: *leads Hrafni over to the kiddie area and kisses her cheek* All right sweety, you play nice wit' th' otha' kids. Jus' rememba', dey ain't all as tough as you, mkay?
Hrafni: *looks at him with her big dark eyes and tells him she'll win him a prize in one of the children's games she can see through the door. Then gives him a hug, waves to Nightwish, and scampers away*
Nightwish: *small wave back*
Rat: *adjusts his hat and shades, then swaggers to the Game Room, grinning from audio to audio* Time ta make 'n impression, you two.
Nightwish: *shoulders back and wings tucked behind her back instead of cloaked over her shoulders. Strutting as only a cat can strut as the bright lights glint off her finish and her dress*
Dinoclone: *rolls his optic, but follows along anyway, looking like he'd rather be anywhere but where he was*
Rat: *throws open the doors, making half the room stop and turn to stare at them. He smirks and nods to himself, swaggering over to the money counter* So sweetcheeks, what kinna currency d'y'all accept here, ehn?
slender, bird-like teller: *glances toward the four hulking reptilian bouncers who flank one of the two nearby doors and makes a sign with the feathers of one winghand even as she trills a musical smile at Rat* Casino Rock takes every known currency in the galaxy, except for Elite doubloons.
Rat: *holds up a card and slides it over the counter* I got two mil Cybertronian Credits on dis card here. Would'ya be a peach an' gimme some chips fer th' card tables? I think I hear dem callin' my name.
teller: *crystal chime as she takes the card and feeds it to the chip machine* Will your assistants be playing?
Rat: *looks over his shoulder at the pair. The glare Dinoclone's giving him clearly says NO >: |* Ehn... You wanna, babycakes? *looks at Nightwish*
Nightwish: *languid smile* This is your party, bossman.
teller: *unsure now. On the one hand many wealthy fat cats don't let their people play, but she's getting the vibes that this guy's bodyguards might be more than just guards, or the female at the least. Decides to give him the benefit of the doubt and signals to the bouncers that he's to be let into the VIP section*
Rat: Heh. I'd ratha' have ya play th' distraction enyway. *grins and flips the hem of Nightwish's skirt, then grabs his chips and tucks them into subspace* So I take it th' big lizards're gonna show me th' good tables, den? *flashes a smile, taking a few steps in their direction*
teller: *slightly surprised but chimes sweetly as she replies* That's right, sir. Have fun and good luck! ^_^
two inner bouncers: *slide the double doors open and bow the party inside*
Rat: *winks and blows the teller a kiss before sliding through the doors, giving the bouncers a smooth, distracted smirk*
Dinoclone: *growls quietly at the bouncers, trailing behind Rattrap. He whips around and catches up to the smaller mech when Rattrap snaps his finger, however*
Rat: *wanders around the room, looking the tables over, checking out other people's chip piles, and watching the games*
Nightwish: *positively shimmering in the lights, and collecting glances and stares from all manner of male beings as she holds her position at Rattrap's flank. Her wings are just slightly furled now, and held out behind her*
Pink and Sky blue Biker Femme: *leans against a bulky rock golem with gold veins running across him. She double takes as Rat and his "guards" pass by*
Rat: *glances at her and takes a seat at the golem's table, casually leaning back in his chair and tossing a few chips out* Deal me in when y'get th' chance, would'ya?
Nightwish: *stands at Rat's shoulder, leaning against his chair just slightly. The gesture seems to say 'This bot is under my protection'. There is also a whisper of 'this bot is mine', but it's so faint that most will probably miss it*
Golem: *glares at rat with Rat with eyes like glowing embers, then turns attention to his cards as the dealer hands out the next round*
Rat: *ignores the look and grabs his card, glancing them over* So what game we playin' enyway?
Biker Femme: *facepalms*
Golem: *rumbles* Baccarat.
Nightwish: *distracted by looking at that vicious-looking pig guard over there like she wants to make chili out of him*
Rat: *without looking behind him* Luna, don' terrorize th' suckas's men.
Nightwish: *absently rubs his shoulder with one hand* I'm only looking, bossman.
Rat: Lookin's not always a good idea.
Biker Femme: *snorts* It's a good way ta getcher aft beat, s'what it is.
Golem: Quiet. *draws a card*
Biker Femme: *rolls her optics*
Nightwish: *just smirks and looks at the table, not showing her surprise as she catches the sound of the mean pig's knees knocking*
Rat: ....Yanno, I jus' realized I got no idea what I'm doin'. How'd'ya even play dis game? *scrunches up his nose and tosses his cards onto the table, showing a four and a five* Dis looks like a sucky hand ta me.
Golem: *looks at him, brow slowly furrowing*
Biker Femme: Yer 'n idiot, Rans.
Rat: *smirks* T'ought it was you, Rizza.
Nightwish: *steps on Dinoclone's foot to forestall comment*
Dinoclone: *half roars, biting down on it and shooting Wish a glare*
Rat: Luna, play nice. *swats at her* I'd wonda'd where ya wanda'd off ta, Rizza. How'd'ya get out here?
Rizza: Ain't nona yer bidness, Rans. Jus' go home 'n tell Cutta' hi. Y'don' b'long here.
Rat: Look who's talkin', lil girl. *smirks*
Nightwish: *doesn't seem to be aware of the conversation, though she is. She's found away past the local firewalls and is downloading a file on game rules*
Rizza: *razzes him, squeaking a bit when the golem gives her a nudge*
Rat: *laughs* Right. I'll leave ya t'yer articulate boyfriend dere. Jus' wanned ta stop in an' harrass my lil sista'.
Rizza: Go screw yerself to a woikbench, Rans. *makes a rude gesture in his direction*
Rat: *laughs and gets up, grabbing his chips before anyone can stop him and moving on* Slag, if dese rooms ain't stuffy. Wonda' if dere's a race I cin bet on, or some sorta gladiator tourney.
Nightwish: *databursts him the game rule file* There's jelly racing over at the back of the room.
Rat: Jelly racing?
Nightwish: *looking over many people's heads* That's what the sign says.
Rat: Th' Pit is dat? Okay, dis I gotta see.
jelly racing arena: *separated from the rest of the plushly decorated room by a low barrier. Down below is an obstacle course which includes such things as spike belts and a big patch of salt. And moving swiftly over this course are several... pastel blobs of jelly. Even as Rat and his group find a place where Rat can see a blue blob expires and melts into the salt trap, to the vocal disappointment of several spectators*
Rat: ......Oh. My. Primus. *covers his mouth and gigglesnerks* Dis is... dis is jus' ridiculous.
Dinoclone: How in the world...?
Nightwish: They're simple multicellular scavenger beings. Each one's been trained to respond to that chime you hear, and they're all trying to get to the finish line and get something to eat.
yellow jelly: *turns into a puddle halfway over a wall*
Rat: Gotta pretty high mortality rate, don' dey?
Nightwish: *reaches over and helps herself to the holo pamphlet she'd been reading, to the startlement of the elderly furry being who'd been holding it. Smiles back as the old lady smiles at her, and then shows the bit of hard light to Rat*
Rat: *looks the hologram over, tilts his head to the side* ...Huh. Ain't th' whole blob. Weeeiiiird. *flicks his tail and folds his arms over the railing, resting his chin on it* Bet Star'd have a hissy fit if we got onna dose.
Nightwish: He'd never eat Jello again.
green jelly: *over the finish line first!*
spectators: *much too fancy to cheer. Only start getting ready to bet on the next race*
Rat: He spends foreva' pokin' at it as it is. *gonna go bet on the pink jelly now*
pink jelly: *lively and climbing up the side of its holding container, but not a favorite in the betting. If it wins Rat will make a killing*
Nightwish: *looks at the notes on it* First split of a new jelly. It's untried.
Rat: An' it's pink. No one else is bettin' on it. Dem's my kinna odds. *bets a thousand credits on it with a smirk*
Dinoclone: It's going to explode on the first hurdle.
Rat: *laughs* Y'd think dat, woul'n'chu?
jelly: *trying to get out of the container, lands on the bottom with a splat as somebody raps on the clear canister with a stick*
Nightwish: *murmurs as the canisters are lifted and the chime starts ringing* There they go.
Rat: *leans over the railing, grinning like a loon* C'mon Pinky! Win Daddy Hardluck some big bucks!
pink jelly: *over walls and across glass gravel patches like a rosy cannonball, goes right over an unfortunate purple jelly and uses it for a bridge over the salt flat, then leaps both spike belts before splattering against the last wall. Sits there for a minute....*
nebulan aristocrat: It's finished.
Rat: Ehn.... *pouts, resting his chin on the rail* It'll come back. S'like in holo vids, dey gotta look defeated b'fore dey cin win.
pink jelly: *finishes licking the wall and is over the finish line even before the finish line attendant realizes it. Bell rings!*
Rat: *fistpumps* YES! Oh, I am GOOD! *does a little dance, but stops when he realizes people are staring at him* ....What? Jus' cuz all you rich slobs're stuffy don' mean we all are.
Nightwish: *chuckles* Want me to go get your credit, Macdaddy Hardluck?
Rat: *grins up at her* Would'ya please, Lunababy?
Dinoclone: *scowls at the pink jelly as the keepers put it back into its container*
Rat: *elbows him lightly* Credit fer yer t'oughts?
Dinoclone: *grunts* Just wondering what it is that made that blob so much more... livelier than the others.
pink jelly: *is wanting OUT! But gets carried away*
Nightwish: *off to get the chips*
nebulan aristocrat: I demand that that creature be tested for drugs!
casino attendant: You can't drug jellies. There's just no possible way.
Dinoclone: *looks over* What about accelerants?
attendant: Also not possible.
strolling waitress: *offers Rat jelly candies that look just like miniature jellies*
Rat: *squeals in delight, waggles his fingers, and takes a few candies* Oooh, don' mind if I do, dollface! *winks at the waitress*
waitress: *dimples at Rat*
Dinoclone: Something about the food then? Maybe something that metabolizes quickly for bursts of energy?
attendant: Racing jellies are tamper proof, unless you salt them or roast them. That's why people go to the ends of the galaxy to try and find the things. And why they're worth so much, because the demand outstrips the supply.
Rat: *is going to lean against the rail and flirt with the waitress now. He smiles roguishly at her and lets his shades slide down his nose a bit so that he can peer over the rim*
waitress: *flirts back, and here comes another with drinks*
Dinoclone: *scowls and looms over the attendant* Just where do these "jellies" come from, then? Is that pink one from another location than the rest?
attendant: They all come from our stables right here, and they have for over fifty years.
guy that just walked up: Actually, that's not true.
attendant: *frowns and then blinks* Mr. Smith, sir. Your jelly's not from the stable?
Rat: *going get a drink and flirt with that waitress too*
Dinoclone: Are you the owner of the pink jelly? *eyes Mr. Smith*
Mr. Smith: *is one of those funny looking guys commonly called trunkhoppers. Organics who happily eat energon whenever they can get it, and who are known for their good nature and truthfulness* Yes I am. And the trainer.
Dinoclone: I am curious. What is it about your jelly that makes it better than all the rest? My.... *pauses and snarls to himself* employer here just won a lot of money off it.
Mr. Smith: *grins* It's a wild jelly.
attendant: *stares at him*
Dinoclone: *impressed, but not sure why* Minimum training, I assume?
Mr. Smith: No, it's fully trained. It just hasn't had years of being fed and protected to calm it down.
Dinoclone: Ah, I see. It's fresh. *nods and turns to Rattrap* Your jelly is wild, Rrrr-Hardluck.
Rat: *has somehow managed to gather a small crowd of servers, has no idea what the clone's talking about* You bet'cher tailpipe my jelly's wild!
Mr. Smith: *snerk*
Dinoclone: *going to facepalm now* Moron...
Rat: Yeah, whateva', y'dumb lizard. Yo, did Luna eva' come back? *hops up a bit, trying to look over all the girls*
Nightwish: *coming back with two massive canvas bags in her hands, and being stared at for the feat of strength now instead of her appearance and attitude*
Rat: Ah, dere's my money! *flashes a grin at the waitresses and bounces over* Hey, you think I got enough ta buy a chunk a' dat pink goo?
Dinoclone: Wild pink jelly, ssssir. *scowl*
Rat: Yeah, an' somma dat too!
Mr. Smith: I don't know. Jellies can go for over a million galactic credits.
waitresses: *many scattering after a glimpse of Nightwish*
Rat: *looks up at Wish* Luna? How much did dat last race net me, exactly?
Nightwish: One billion seven hundred credits. *looks at the several glances that just sharpened and smiles a predatory smile*
Rat: *looks over to Mr. Smith* I only wan' a handful've it. I think I cin afford it.
Mr. Smith: *grins and pulls a jar out of his pocket* The small pink contents looks nearly just like the candies Rat just ate. The only difference being that the tiny jelly is moving.
Rat: *looks at the jelly jar, then at Mr. Smith* Any chance dat was a part a' my winner?
Mr. Smith: The pink is the only jelly I own right now. I brought this out to see if anyone was interested in some.
Rat: Whaddo dey eat?
Mr. Smith: They like thin organic liquids. But this one still knows how to lick moss off walls and stuff.
Nightwish: So the larger piece that raced was licking up....
Mr. Smith: What was left of the last one that melted there. Yeah.
Dinoclone: So it cleans?
Mr. Smith: *nods* But you have to keep it away from things that would dry it out. Their outer skins aren't very thick.
baby jelly: *crawling around. Dun like the jar!*
Dinoclone: We're taking it.
Rat: Hey-! Jus' who's in charge here, ehn?
Dinoclone: *smirks down at Rat* You're disgusting. I'm feeding you to the jelly, whether you like it or not.
Rat: *flails and splutters*
Nightwish: *drops a bag of chips on Dinoclone*
Mr. Smith: *Unfazed by threats and violence* They don't eat dead robots. Or live ones. They actually prefer vegetable stuff.
attendant: Ah... the carnesaur matches are starting.
Dinoclone: *snaps at Nightwish, cringes, then growls* I know that! But Rrrrr-Hardluck is covered in FILTH. If he held the jelly in hisss servos alone, the thing would grow substantially fatter!
Rat: I LIKE th' way I am! You cain't make me be clean! *shakes his fists at the clone*
Dinoclone: *leans down, growling low in his throat* Watch me.
Dinoclone: *throws his head back in a howl of rage and pain. He lashes out with his claw, slashing at the arm connected to the hand in his circuits*
Rat: *splutters and flails* Hey, stop it-!
Nightwish: *stops it. Also doesn't even look at the arm that got slashed at*
Dinoclone: *growls low in his throat, his laser optic glowing bright red*
Rat: *swears a blue streak, then grabs the attendant* Hey, you said somethin' 'bout Carnesaurs? Anyway I cin enta' 'n ova'grown rapta' inta th' match?
attendant: *startled* Ah, not with the carnesaurs, sir. They're highly trained champions and extremely valuable.
Rat: He'd neva' leave beast mode, I SWEAR!
attendant: *shakes his head* I'm sorry. That's just not possible. But if you like you could rent a holo room and play one of the fighting scenarios.
Rat: *snarls and shoves the attendant away* I got my own, thanks. If dey ain't enough ta woik out his aggression, yers smeltin' won't be.
Mr. Smith: *looking a bit sad because he seems to have missed out finding a home for his baby jelly* You could send him to the next asteroid over and throw him down the worm pit.
Rat: Dat... could woik. *eyes the clone and grunts, then turns back to Mr. Smith* Sorry 'bout dat. Enyway, you was sayin' dem jellies is woith millions? Y'got 'n exact figyah in mind, or do I gotta make 'n offer?
Mr. Smith: *perks and nods* I want at least a million and a half for this one.
attendant: ...That's the price of a trained racer.
Mr. Smith: *holds up the jar to show baby jelly still trying to find OUT* It's worth it.
Rat: *holds up his hands* Hey, don' need ta convince me, I was gonna take it ta begin wit'. Actually, I got a credit card wit' two mil. on it. Would it be easiah fer ya ta jus' take dat?
Mr. Smith: *blinks and then grins* If you're sure.
Rat: *jerks his thumb towards Nightwish and his winnings* I think I cin afford it.
Mr. Smith: Alright. *offers little jelly*
Rat: *pulls out a card and trades it for the jelly. Immediately, he takes off the lid and lets out the little pink blob, which scoots up his arm and comes to a rest on his shoulder under the coat, happily licking the grime off him*
Mr. Smith: *puts the card away and gives him some pointers on jelly care and training* What you do is put them in a box with a chime on one side and some salt on the other. Put some sweet water on the floor on the chime side. After awhile they'll love the chime and see it as a signal of safety and food.
Rat: *nods, reaching up to pat the jelly, which starts licking at his fingers. He giggles*
Mr. Smith: But I have to go now. I don't want to miss the match between Death's Head and Mama Murder.
Rat: Dose're awesome names. *grins and follows him, snapping his fingers to get the clone and Wish's attention*
Mr. Smith: They're awesome lizards! You don't get too many females in the fighting circuit, because they're just too mean to train. But Mama Murder's only mean in the ring. Her handlers can even go right in her pit with her.
Rat: Sounds like cloneboy back dere, only I hafta have a program reign 'im in.
Dinoclone: *growls and makes a half-hearted swipe at Rat's tail as the rodent grins back at him*
Mr. Smith: Nah. Mama Murder's pretty. Hey, you want to sit in my box?
Rat: Well yeah, she's female. I'd be worried if Knuckledusta' was pretty. *snickers, ducking his head to dodge another half-hearted swipe* If ya don' mind th' goons, I'd love ta.
Mr. Smith: I don't mind. *leads them down a special hallway and up a flight of stairs* It's not a live fight, but they've got the big wrap around screen. So it'll seem like we're even closer than you can get at a live match.
Rat: Dey got live fights available, or is it jus' on-screen only?
Mr. Smith: Just the on-screen. The asteroid's not big enough for carnesaurs. *opens the door to a plush and comfortable box with a private drink and snack bar*
Rat: Ah, yeah. Dat makes sense. *glances around the room and snaps his fingers* Make yerselves at home, you two.
Dinoclone: *grunts and will now proceed to raid the snack bar*
Nightwish: *settles in a seat and puts her leg over the arm, her optics turned curiously toward the massive screens, which have just gone dark at the end of a match*
Mr. Smith: *helping himself to... cinnaSeekers! from the snack bar*
Rat: *grabs a beer and flops down in Wish's lap, snuggling up against her*
Mr. Smith: Careful. Don't squish the jelly!
Rat: Ehn? *checks the jelly and notices a small brown patch on his shoulder* ....Do dey eat paint?
Mr. Smith: Only if it's fresh and organic based. Some paint pigments can dry them out. *settles in his own chair and looks over with concern* I can get you a canister for it, one with some sweet in it.
Rat: Uhm, yeah. Maybe a good idea.
Mr. Smith: *goes and pulls it out of the cupboard where he left it awhile back because he wanted to watch a fight instead of putting things away where they went* There you go.
Rat: *urges the jelly into the jar, but leaves the lid off* Ah, thanks. Din't want th' cute lil' guy ta dry out on me.
pink jelly: *lots of room and lots of sweet. Settles down to absorb the food and grow*
Mr. Smith: *grins, but then hastily flops into his chair as the betting attendant arrives to see if he wants to put any money down*
Rat: I suppose Mama Murder's th' safe bet, ehn?
Mr. Smith: They're both good. This is gonna be an even match.
attendant: Good? Sir, they're both champions!
Rat: D'you own onna dem dinos? *eyes the attendant*
attendant: No sir. But they're legends.
Mr. Smith: I'll bet on Mama.
Rat: Ain't no reason fer you ta get all offended ova'. I'll bet on Death's Head, jus' ta make things interestin'.
attendant: *apologizes to Rat, and then takes the bets before leaving the box*
dramatic music: *starts up*
Rat: *returns to happily snuggling his big femme, one hand rubbing her stomach*
Dinoclone: *looks up from his strategic disemboweling of the snack bar and leans over the counter to watch the fight*
Nightwish: *cuddles Rat and pushes his hat back on his head*
Mr. Smith: *as the music swells* Now jelly racing is worth a lot of money, but it's just a little game. The only hard part is getting enough jellies to do it with. Carnesaur fighting, on the other hand, is years of investment and training, and thousands of dollars worth of equipment for some really beautiful animals.
Dinoclone: As to be expected from any fighter worth their salt.
Nightwish: *small sound of interest as the music reaches the climax and the curtains sweep back. And then she sits up as she takes in the size of the beasts it reveals, both of which might be fully capable of making a blue whale look normal*
Rat: *whines in protest as he's moved*
Mr. Smith: *grins* That's Mama, and that's Death's Head. He's kind of a runt, but that's never held him back.
Death's Head: *Stone grey with pewter coloured armor over his vitals and decorating his head in an ornate helmet. Red eyes shine as he stands calmly behind a rope stretched in front of him and sends the occasional snarl toward his opponent*
Mama Murder: *seems almost to dwarf the male, and the white armor that she wears shows such a contrast to her black hide and golden eyes as to make her seem even bigger. She's more restless than Death's Head, lowering her head and pushing the attendant robots around with her muzzle between powerful bellows of confident threat*
Rat: *glances back at the clone, trying not to smile* Glad my money's on him den. He's gorgeous.
Dinoclone: *rumbles and leaps over the snack bar counter, shifting to his beast mode. He settles down at Rat's feet, eyes transfixed upon the screen*
Mr. Smith: *grinning widely* Now what they have to do is make three marks on the other one's flank. The first one to do that wins.
Dinoclone: Do they ever have troubles... reigning them in?
Mr. Smith: Not these two. They've been fighting for a long time, and they know the game. Mama won't even flirt in the arena, like some females do.
Dinoclone: Such control....
Rat: *smiles and runs a hand over the raptor's head, making his red optics flicker* You'll hafta fergive 'im. Dusta's 'n old warria' himself.
Dinoclone: *growls and turns his head back to nip at Rattrap's fingertips*
Mr. Smith: I kind of figured they both were. *looks at Nightwish, then turns quickly as a horn sounds and the two massive reptilians charge toward one another and collide with an earth shaking impact* Wow!
Rat: *chuckles quietly and settles down to watch the match*
Death's Head: *knocked flying, but quickly twists around and shoves Mama Murder away with both feet before leaping upright with surprising agility for something so large and lacking in other limbs, wheels around and tries a flanking maneuver....
Mama Murder: *counters! lashing out with her spike-club equipped tail and then striking with a foot spur*
Rat: *cringes* Oooh, dat looks painful.
Mr. Smith: *holding his breath, but then shakes his head* Nope, she missed the target area and hit his armor.
Rat: Still, ouch. *rubs his side in sympathy*
Dinoclone: *growls* Maybe to someone as delicate as you....
Rat: Yeah... Good thing we ain't all brutes like you.
sound: *cuts out for a moment as Mama Murder opens her maw and gives a subsonic bellow that would pulverize most organic brains*
Death's Head: *staggers back only a little, and then leaps into the air, managing to come down on the female's head*
Mr. Smith: He's deaf. So that move never works with him.
Rat: *nodnods* Prolly from hearin' dat one too many times, ehn?
Mr. Smith: Nah. The red-eyed strain are all deaf. *winces and hides his eyes as a flurry of activity nearly blocks out the camera for a few minutes*
Rat: Oooooh....
Dinoclone: Would that I was so blessed. *nips at Rattrap's hand again*
Rat: *snickers and gives his maw a playful little punch*
Mr. Smith: First blood! In the wrong place.
Nightwish: *settling down comfortably again, though she's still watching the match closely*
Rat: Does dat count 'gainst 'im?
Mr. Smith: Nah. It doesn't count at all.
Rat: What if onna dem dies cuz dey bleed out cuza damage ev'rywhere but th' flank?
Mr. Smith: *shakes his head* All the dangerous spots are covered. Wow!
Death's Head: *jaws close around Mama Murder's leg, and then he's lifting and trying to toss her*
Mama Murder: *nearly tossed! Throws her weight forward instead and then ducks her head down to bite at Death's Head's leg*
Rat: Yeah, cuz losin' a leg ain't no big thang.
Dinoclone: *snerks* Says the rodent who loses fingers to a sparkling.
Rat: Ehn... yeah well...
Mr. Smith: *chuckles* These two have both been fighting for around fifty years. They know what they're doing.
fight: *an epic, drawn-out flurry of attacks and counter attacks, blood, and rapid movement. And then Mr. Smith is gaping as the bell announces the end of the match*
Mr. Smith: A TIE???
Nightwish: They marked each other at the same time.
Rat: So do I get my money back, or do we both get money?
Mr. Smith: *sits forward as the announcers talk* *on the forgotten screen the two big dinos are now nuzzling each other and sniffing at their wounds*
announcer: *declares Death's Head the winner, because he made his first two target marks before Mama Murder made hers*
Rat: Awesome! *fistpumps* Sorry man, but Lady Luck adores me. *flashes a grin*
Mr. Smith: *good natured grin as the curtains close* Wasn't that an awesome fight, though?
Dinoclone: T'was honorably fought.
Rat: *shrugs and smirks* Ain't nothin' like bein' dere, but yeah, dat was somethin'.
Mr. Smith: I think it's the best game in the galaxy. Those slagging Elite have no right to declare it illegal. *getting up and going to the snack bar*
Rat: Th' Elite?
Mr. Smith: A bunch of humans who think they rule the area. *scowl* They think love is something disgusting, and they all act like they have sticks in bad places.
Rat: 'Umans? Seriously? Jus' 'umans? *arches an eyebrow*
Mr. Smith: Snotty ones. Everyone knows the JDs are the law around here.
Rat: So... why don'cha jus' scrap 'em?
Mr. Smith: My people don't fight. And the JDs protect them like they protect everyone else.
Rat: Not me. I ain't from th' area, y'might say.
Mr. Smith: Oh, so you don't know about the Green Dancer?
Rat: Dunno nothin' 'bout nothin'. I was jus' passin' t'rough, saw dis place, an' t'ought it'd be good fer a few laughs.
Mr. Smith: Ohhh. *grabs a datapad and asks Rat for his frequency, then quickly writes a list of good spots and so that he can send it to Rat's datapad*
Rat: Here, dis is easiah. *brings his tail up and plugs the tip into the datapad, downloading the information*
Mr. Smith: Cool. *grin*
Nightwish: *checks the jeweled chrono on her wrist* We should be getting back. Big Green just reported that his credit card can't hold any more credit.
Rat: *lets out a low whistle* Looks like ev'ryone's cleanin' up tanight.
Nightwish: *kisses him on the head through his hat* I wonder how Dumb and Dumber are doing.
Rat: What, Terrorsaur an' Star?
Nightwish: Oh, I know how Star's doing.
Rat: Insanely well, I'm sure.
Hrafni: *calls Rat's comlink wondering if they're done yet, because she's out of money now and has enough prizes*
Rat: //Yeah baby, jus' a moment, I'm comin'.// *reluctantly gets to his feet and dusts off* Well, it was nice ta meet'cha, enyway, Mista Smith, but I gotta be goin'.
Mr. Smith: *grins* Yeah, it was fun. Grab some stuff from the snack counter if you want on the way out. It's all mine.
Rat: *blinkblinks and looks to the counter* I din't think Dusta' left anythin' behind.
Dinoclone: *growls* I would not be so ungracious as to eat all our host's food.
Rat: Ehn! *sticks his tongue out at the clone and grabs munchies*
Nightwish: *snerking from where she's waiting by the door with the bags of chips* You want me to go cash these?
Rat: Yus! We'll meet'cha by th' entrance. I gotta go pick up Hrafni 'n all.
Nightwish: *nods and goes*
Mr. Smith: *having some munchies himself* She's pretty.
Rat: She's somethin' else, dat's for shore. *smirks to himself* I'm a lucky mech, I tell ya dat.
Mr. Smith: *curious* She's your mate?
Rat: *shrugs one shoulder* Mistress'd prolly be a closa' term. She's free ta do whateva' she wants, an' I ain't so good at monogamy. *starts heading towards the door, snapping his fingers and calling the clone to his side* But she's havin' my baby.
Mr. Smith: Aren't you guys Transformers?
Rat: ....Yeah, but it's complicated. We ain't from 'round here.
Mr. Smith: A lot of people aren't. I just hadn't realized Transformers multiplied that way.
Rat: Like I said, it's complicated. We ah... got mixed technology, y'could say.
Dinoclone: In other words, he's disgusting and did disgusting things to the femme which resulted in an unholy creation which-mmff!
Rat: *slaps his hands over the clone's mouth* He dun need ta know details, lizard brain, sheesh!
Mr. Smith: *shrugs one shoulder with a chuckle* Hey, my people grow from rock seeds.
Rat: *rolls his optics with a grin* You people an' yer kinky ways. C'mon, Dusta', Hrafni's waitin'. *pushes the door open and waves over his shoulder* Thanks fer th' info an' th' show!
Mr. Smith: *waves* You're welcome!
Rat: *heads to the kiddie area, the clone trailing behind. Once he arrives, he cups his hands over his mouth and shouts* Hey, Princess!
Hrafni: *scoots out, a single stuffed animal with long silky fur in her arms. Hugs Rattrap and then offers him the toy*
Rat: *hugs Hrafni and takes the toy* Fer me, precious? Daww, dat's so sweet! Thank you! *smooches her cheek*
Hrafni: *twitches her ears, though she seems to be forcing herself to smile and her dark eyes look troubled* I said that I vould bring you a prize, Vader.
Nightwish: *comes walking up with the jelly jar in one hand*
Rat: It's adorable, sweety. *frowns, kneeling down to her height* What's wrong, did somethin' happen?
Hrafni: *looks at the ground* They asked me to promise not to tell my parents.
Rat: *growls quietly* What happened? Why would dey tell ya dat?
Hrafni: I can't tell you.
Nightwish: So tell the clone.
Dinoclone: *blink* What?
Rat: *blink* Hey, yeah. He ain'cher parents.
Hrafni: *looks up at Dinoclone* There are kinder living in the exploration maze. Their parents told them to vaite there, und then never came back for them. *sniffles slightly and wipes at her face with one hand* I gave them all my money except for the price of the game to get Vader's toy.
Dinoclone: *jerks back and looks over to Rattrap*
Rat: An' th' casino ALLOWS dis?
Hrafni: *to Dinoclone* The kinder are good at hiding. No vone knows they're there. But I heard them.
Dinoclone: That is... what parent would...
Rat: How do dey survive? I mean, dey gotta eat 'n all...
Hrafni: *still speaking to the clone* They said their parents vere poor. But that they loved to come und play the games. Und now the kinder steal to try und survive.
Dinoclone: *looks pointedly at Rattrap*
Rat: *splutters* What?! I feel bad 'bout it, don' gimme wrong! But... whaddya wan' me ta do 'bout it?
Nightwish: I'm telling the police.
Dinoclone: *transforms to robot mode and takes the jelly jar from Wish, nodding at her with a grunt* Tis the least that can be done.
Nightwish: *turns and stalks away, her wings half furled and her pace deliberate and determined. A few moments later several large reptilian guys of a different sort than the bouncers are filing quickly into the children's area*
Rat: *watches with a cringe, arms crossed over his chest* Man, but dat seems a bit... rough fer kids. Ain't dere fault...
nearby person who stopped to look: Kids? The JDs are going after kids?
Rat: *shrugs, looking uncomfortable* Dere parents dumped 'em here.
person: *smile that holds no meanness* Well if the JDs can find them they'll be alright. Those big guys spoil kids rotten.
Rat: Oh, really? *tries not to look too relieved* Well, dat's good den! *looks down at Hrafni with a smile* S'good?
Hrafni: *nods and wipes her eyes again, ears twitching in a real smile this time. One of her pigtails has come unraveled*
Spazz: //Yo, Rat. We're home already, and Nightwish just showed up and went and holed up in her office. Where are you?//
Rat: *picks up Hrafni and gives her a good snuggle* //Jus' finishin' up some bidness. We're on our way.// You two ready?
Hrafni: I'm ready, Vader.
Rat: *leans against Dinobot and 'points them all back to the ship*
Rhinox: *hands him a credit card. And then hands him a couple more*
Rat: *blinks* What's dis? Whaddid you do?
Rhinox: *smirking* Made money.
Rat: HOW?!
Rhinox: *winces and dances the littles he's holding* I swear, Rattrap, if you wake these two up....
Rat: *puts Hrafni down and takes Dinobaby from him* Dere. Now I get bit if one wakes up. Now whaddid you do?
Rhinox: Sold cinnaSeekers for less than the casino sells them.
Spazz: The trunkhoppers were coming out of the woodwork.
Rat: ..... *snerks and cackles* Genius!
Rhinox: *just smirks, then glances at Starcaller* You ready to call it a night?
Star: *looks up from the GIGANTIC pretzel he's noming and nods* Just as soon as I finish this I will be.
Rhinox: *nods and gently rubs his head, then offers his sleeping baby brother to kiss*
Starcaller: *gives Lucky a salty kiss on the cheek* Oopsies... *gently brushes off the salt and crumbs, smiling sheepishly at Rhinox* I like sodium. It's crunchy.
Rhinox: *just grins and rubs his head again like a human father would ruffle his kid's hair, then dips slightly so that Spazz can get up on his shoulder and heads for the door*
Spazz: *waves to Rattrap*
Rat: *waves at Spazz then shakes his head while Star goes back to nomming the pretzel* Did feisty red-head make it back?
Starcaller: You mean Terrorsaur? Yeah, he came back with me. We played slots and computer games and things.
Rat: Greeeaat. I was half-hopin' we could leave 'im behind. *rolls his eyes with a smirk, then heads to bed himself*
Dinobaby: *wriggles and growls, then lifts his head and gives Rattrap a stink eye*
Rat: *plants a big wet smooch right on his nose and grins*
Dinobaby: *slugs Rat, and then buries his face against Small Cheetor and goes back to sleep*
Rat: *sigh* I'm still gonna snuggle you tonight, yanno dat, brat.
Dinobaby: *sleeps, his arms wrapped tightly around his doll and his sheathed sword*
Rat: *pushes the door to his room open and puts Dinobaby down on a pillow in his new pillow pit bed. He slips out of his coat and puts his hat and shades on a desk, then plops down next to Dinobaby*
Dinobaby: *all curled up around his friends and snoring softly because his nose is smushed against Small Cheetor*
Rat: *snuggles the chibi and pulls his pimp coat up around them like a blanket, then closes his eyes, falling into recharge*