[OPEN]

[drinkscola]

Who: maruko "marco" reiji (drinkscola) and you!!!
When: 08.02
Where: various places
What: marco being uncool... also guns, soda, and a football
Rating/Warning: mild language, but otherwise nothing for now!


a.

[ welcome to the gun show

or a gun range, more specifically. here's a guy dressed in a pinstripe suit (actually a school uniform, thank you), lifting a sig sauer p226 towards a target. he's done his homework such that his stance and grip are correct, but... experience tends to trump textbook knowledge. he sweats, manages to keep his hand from trembling, and squeezes the trigger.

BANG.

and holy shit, even with protective earmuffs, that's loud as fuck and the resulting kick is even more startling. while the bullet's hit its mark, marco doesn't quite notice as he yelps and drops the weapon; it clatters to the floor wherein it sets off again.

BANG.

whoops. at least that one hit the wall and not a person. he's immediately looking around to make sure no one heard that, much less witnessed it. ]

b: shopping district.

[ well that had been rough and embarrassing— time for some caffeinated, sugary calories. after fishing out his wallet, selecting coca-cola and swiping his card, a single cola tumbles out.


except, after that's been retrieved, the sodas don't stop coming. they continue to cascade out of the machine one-by-one, rolling on the surrounding pavement in a variety of directions. ]

What the hell, I'd say—!!

[ the vending machine continues until it's empty of every can. ]

c: shopping district, part 2.

[ during his hour of waiting for a maintenance bot to show (it won't), marco's taken to building an elaborate pyramid structure. he kind of half-expects something to come along and obliterate it, so he won't be too surprised when that happens. it's been a painful waste of time.

he fixes another can to its side. ]

Geez, what is up with CERES lately...

[ he gets being forced to live in a dystopia, okay, but an inefficient one sucks. ]

d: entertainment/pleasure district.

[ as someone who usually practices alone, even back home, it might be useful to scope out talent. temporarily useful, as marco knows none of this should actually stick. once he's spied someone that looks physically capable of regularly withstanding tackles and somewhat unoccupied (by which he means, unoccupied hands), he's raising his football. ]

Here. Catch, I'd say.

[ whether you like it or not, it's beamed toward your torso. hey, be grateful or something that at least he didn't beam it at your head!! ]

e: boutique; closed to kashuu.

[ okay, in-between being broke (a relative adjective) and newcomers and gross cybuddies and avoiding the hell out of everyone due to those memory shenanigans, marco's finally traversed somewhere beautifully expensive with intent. upon entering, impressed already, he'll approach someone that looks to work there. ]

Hey, I'm Marco. [ potentially useless information, okay. moving on: ] And I'm looking for someone named Kashuu Kiyomitsu...

Comments

[trueend]

[Oh, god. There are water bottles everywhere. Frisk is going to enjoy the view for a moment, watching the bottles roll out of the machine like this is the most exciting thing they've seen all day. Considering their particular brand of humor, though, it might be.]

... That is so cool.

[Yep. There we go.

Weirdly enough, they're going to take out their cellphone before moving to pick a bottle up. Marco might even see them click a couple of keys on the phone, right before they point it at the bottle in their hand and— yeah. The bottle is gone. It's an ex-bottle; it has disappeared to the mysterious hammerspace.

This process will be repeated five or six more times, unless Marco wants to stop them from filling up their inventory with free non-toilet water...]

[drinkscola]

[ at this point, marco has no inclination to stop people from stealing... well, everything, what with making remaining still, only to dodge the occasional bottle, and watching with something akin to sardonic acceptance. feel free to make all of those disappear and screw ceres in the meanwhile.

... that's a bit weird, though. and kind of alarming?? ]

... The hell are you doing with that?? [ points accusingly at the phone and then the sudden lack of water bottle!! ]

[trueend]

[Screwing CERES sounds great after all the times their friends have died in CERES related events, so. You know. Maybe they'll take one or two extras and shove them in their physical pockets. Make sure to really make them suffer the loss of... what? One, two credits? The economy of water bottles is a mystery.

But to answer his question, they shrug.]

'M putting them away. They're too big to fit in my pockets... so...

[That explains absolutely nothing, let's be real.]

[drinkscola]

.. Putting them away, where?

[ yikes. he's kind of wondering if that technology works on people. and IF SO, what happens. ... but what with the answers he's been getting, he thinks it's best to take a slow approach to any pending interrogations. ]

It just looks like the stuff's vanishing into nothing.