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Post by Leon Silverblood on Apr 8, 2007 23:26:17 GMT -5
Leon reaches up and drags Lachryma down into the basement.
"Grab the rope and help me pull. Spec can keep it steady." Leon throws himself into it, pulling with all his strength and hoisting the container or whatever the hell it is and trying to ignore the sense that something is standing right behind him breathing down his neck. "What the hell is IN this thing?"
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 8, 2007 23:30:24 GMT -5
Lachryma figures the the daiquiri has gone straight to her head, since she's somehow pulling up on a container from below.
She shrugs, pulls out a scalpel, and starts sawing at the rope.
"How dare you drag me around, rude man?!"
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 8, 2007 23:32:40 GMT -5
Somehow, the combined efforts of Leon and Spec manage to eventually get The Turk to the surface, despite Lach's attempt at sabotage. "Well, this is one for the rumor mill," Specialist says once it's on the Elbow Room floor. "I thought it got destroyed in a fire years ago..." |
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 8, 2007 23:36:49 GMT -5
Lachryma pulls herself out the filthy basement and stares at Spec's discovery.
"Is big chess-box. Wow. And here I thought you found Fountain of Youth."
She delicately taps The Turk with her foot. Nothing happens. So she kicks it harder.
"What is point of strange thing?"
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 8, 2007 23:39:03 GMT -5
"Echec!" the Turk announces from its ancient voicebox in response to Lach's kick.
"I thought you Russians were big on chess, all trained to play it from birth," Specialist replies.
"Maybe we can get Vito to work on the inside of this thing and turn it into a real machine."
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 8, 2007 23:40:45 GMT -5
"Heavy work, she says ..." Melody picks up the rope, wrapping it around a support post and backing up. "See? Work smart, not hard. Should be my motto..."
Using the post to hold the majority of the waist, she manages to hoist whatever-it-is across the floor by several feet.
"Best hurry up on that drink, Zhivago, they're no good when they melt..."
"What in the hell did you find down there, Spec? And am I gonna regret it?"
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 8, 2007 23:44:49 GMT -5
Lachryma edges a bit away from Mel. I did finish drink, no? Is Mel-lady tripping on mushrooms? Why does she not share, then?, Lachryma thinks nervously.
"Great, we have chess machine in zombie hellhole. Maybe if we teach it to barricade..." she says to Spec.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 8, 2007 23:48:13 GMT -5
Melody gives her the eyeroll, points to the fresh batch of neon green drink mix in the blender. "You're not gonna stop with one, are you? After I made that batch just for you?"
She shakes her head, walks around the machine. "So ... it plays chess? Can we charge for that? It isn't gonna go all smart-robot on us and think we're lower life forms, is it? Because I'll shoot the fucker right now if that's the case. I've seen those movies. I'm the chick that dies first..."
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 8, 2007 23:53:55 GMT -5
"Don't worry, this thing was built in the days before computer programming, and the figure's bolted to the frame. Besides, he can only say one word. Now to find the pieces..."
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 8, 2007 23:54:46 GMT -5
Lachryma gauges her distance between Mel and The Turk, and she realizes with a start that she's exactly standing in a straight line with Mel and the machine. If Mel opens up on it...
She walks quickly to the bar, grabs the blender, and carries it with her as she checks the barricades.
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Post by Leon Silverblood on Apr 9, 2007 0:15:04 GMT -5
Leon grunts as The Turkc omes to a rest and takes a moment to catch his breath. After resting and seething he storms up out of the basement and leaps over various obstacles on a beeline to Lachryma.
The palm of his left hand meets the center of her chest, not striking it but finding the sternum and shoving her back against the wall roughly. His nose is less than an inch from hers as he sends a steel glare from his eyes into hers, running her gaze over like a 1980 Ford truck.
He growls at her quietly:
"You ever in your life sabotage so much as a sink drain again and you'll be taking a dirt nap. I could have put you under The Turk, you know."
His angry stare eases slightly and his eyes streak from her toes to her head and back again as he raises an eyebrow to himself, thinking. He turns around slowly and, after seating himself at a barstool, Leon says "So...this is prehistoric SkyNet? Where's my god damned T-850?"
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Post by Specialist290 on Apr 9, 2007 0:21:44 GMT -5
Specialist watches with some interest and also a tinge of alarm.
Great, there's going to be trouble. I just hope they don't damage the machine... he thinks to himself as he unconsciously reaches for his pistol... just to make sure it's there, of course.
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Post by Leon Silverblood on Apr 9, 2007 0:36:59 GMT -5
"Well, who's gonna play The Turk?"
Leon looks around, wondering who actually plays chess here.
"Or shall we change the game to checkers?"
(OOC: Anyone wanna start a PM game of chess? lol, that actually sounds like an idea. BTW, I'll remove this tomorrow evening, with or without response. I hate OOC crap on this STRICTLY IC board.)
Without warning a hand landed on Leon's shoulder, the bastard zed having climbed up out of the basement through the trapdoor behind him. Reflexively he jammed an elbow back with no effect but to create a small amount of distance as he moved sideways and pivoted on his feet. Unarmed, he gave another shove with both hands as his mind searched a mental map of the area for anything remotely resembling a weapon. "Shit!" is all he said as he tripped backward over a chair near The Turk and fell onto his back, scrambling backward.
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Post by Lachryma on Apr 9, 2007 9:22:40 GMT -5
Lachryma looks at Leon with an unreadable expression.
She dumps the blender of daiquiris onto the barricades, lights a match, and tosses it into the mess.
She practically glides upstairs.
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Post by Melody Arachne on Apr 9, 2007 10:17:11 GMT -5
"Damn it! Why is it always *my* stuff that gets trashed? What did *I* do?"
Melody watches the match fizzle out in the mostly-slushy mix, then Lachryma's flounce up the stairs.
"You know somebody else coulda drank those if you didn't like 'em ..."
Melody picks up the battered blender pitcher, sighs, and brains the injured deader with it.
*CLANG*
"What did you say to her this time, Leon?"
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