[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

e! points at eyes points at marco

[adornmental]

[Said employee looks up from arranging some shirts on a new display rack, immediately curious. Someone's looking for him?? Marco, though... Give him a second.]

Marco? Marco, Marco... Oh! [Recognition lights up his face and he claps his hands together, turning away from the clothes.] I remember you! What's up? Finally come to get a suit?

[SURPRISE, there he is, Kashuu Kiyomitsu... He sure looks like he fits in here, at least, decked out in high-end clothes that are probably modeling samples from the upcoming line.]

a

[sayonaradumbass]

[why is he here? why are ANY of us here? who allowed this shithead near a gunrange? it doesn't matter, what matters is the screech he gives off when the bullet goes off]

MOOOOOOTHERFUCK! I thought this place was to teach you shit! Why is a butterfingers like you here?

B

[basesteal]

[Kuramochi was probably planning to get a bottle of delicious cola. Past tense because he sees the vending machine rampage caused by someone familiar as he stops dead in his tracks for a moment.]

Holy shit, did you just break the vending machine?

b!

[trueend]

[Wow. That's a messy sight.

Don't mind Frisk as they saunter up to this cola disaster, casually picking up one of the cans as it rolls their way. They pop it open once they're in front of the vending machine, taking a sip while it just keeps emptying itself out.]

... Can you make it do that again? But with... water bottles.

[Frisk, that's sTEALING.]

c!

[distorsione]

[...honestly, this is far from the strangest thing Fugo has ever seen in his life, or even in Cerealia, but he pauses beside Marco and his artwork (?) anyway.]

What's all this for?

[Did something in Cerealia happen to make him act like this or is this a conscious choice, that is the question—]

d

[hoasen]

[And she catches!]

Marco? Are you practicing?

b

[masakados]

[All he wanted was to go to the grocery store... He didn't expect this obstacle in his path.]

Drinking all of these is going to be rough.

[Naoki's just going to pick his way care...fully... through the sea of soda cans in Marco's direction. He's doing his best to avoid stepping on one because he doesn't want to be coated in pop today, no sir.]

A!

[good_ideas]

[Because judging is what Shiho does best.

Like judging when to actually step into a gun range when she hears that first shot, her hands on the door telling her that he'd just dropped his gun and that there would be a second. So, of course, she ducks into a safe corner until there is no third gunshot before she carefully pokes her head in through the door.]

If that's your idea of aiming, remind me to just...not be anywhere near you when you want to hit anything.

c

[queenofminiskirts]

[Well.]

That's an interesting hobby you have there.