Chillin' In The Club (OPEN)

[Marcus Takumi]

[ENTER]

Marcus Takumi. Eighteen years old and full of vim and vigor, he had entered a bright and cheerful club, hoping to get some more information on where to buy the latest parts. Being a mechanic had its advantages, as it was a bustling business these days -- especially since Zoid battles were at their peak. Zoids -- giant, mechanical creatures resembling animals such as dinosaurs, mammals, or fish -- were commonplace these days, and Romeo City was full of them. Be it only on television or literally roaming the urban streets, you could see Zoids of all kinds. Big ones, small ones, ones with lots of swords, one with cannons the size of mansions, even ones the size of small baseball caps!

Sitting down at a corner booth, he had ordered a large soft drink, his sweet tooth acting crazy again. Listening to the hustle and bustle of the people inside made his mind tingle in excitement. Having just moved out from his master's place into the undying world made him eager to start working as a master mechanic-in-training. He had learned from the best of the best. Now the only problem was...

Where to get parts?

Taking a sip from the soft drink that was placed right in front of him, a lazy grin strewn on his face, he eagerly listened in on the many conversations taking place. Simultaneously, he had been watching a monitor; showing the latest battle going on within the wide world of Zoid competition. A Command Wolf and a Shield Liger were going head to head against each other, the Wolf's custom-added turrets not doing so much as a single scratch against the Liger's well-built E-Shield system. It made Marcus smile at how good these people were at installing such advanced equipment on such complex creatures.

It made him want to get in on the action himself.

Considering he had himself a Zoid -- an old, dilapidated scrap Rev Raptor by the nickname of "Vee" -- he was itching to get the poor boy fixed up and working again. Knowing he had to actually learn how to Zoid battle before he could really use Vee were two different things entirely; though he was optimistic like usual. He would find someone willing to teach him the ropes. It just took a matter of time.

[DogTrot]

Outside, the streets around the club were already rather busy, with cars and larger units moving back and forth over the large streets. Outside the city limits, at the main gate, rows of larger transport zoids were parked in lanes and rows, from gustavs to Whale Kings to one large ultrasaurus. Amongst them, a shiny new-looking hover cargo pulled in from the battlegrounds, seeming to have come from the direction of Mt. Isolina.

Pat paused a bit at the controls and sighed a bit, still catching his breath. The battle had just ended for him, and he had been quite satisfied with the result. The adrenaline was still rushing through his systems a little as well. He hadn't even taken damage, just expended a lot of ammo and heat-warped his gun a little. It would settle naturally with time, he just needed to take a break and let it cool deep and proper.

Inside the city, the streets could only handle cars and zoids on the main roads, no cargo units. He maneuvered his command wolf through the lanes, searching for a nice place to relax. One building, with zoid parking on the roof, seemed like the perfect getaway. He moved his blue dog up onto the roof, sitting it down next to a booster-upgraded Rev Raptor. Heading down through the doors, he entered the club.

The pilot's orange bandanna was all that could be seen moving through the club. He entered through the door, then could be seen heading to the bathroom, then back out to the bar, then back to the bathroom, then out onto the floor. He held a bottle of soda in his hand, looking around for a seat.

[Marcus Takumi]

Bobbing his head to some rock music that had begun to play, Marcus was in the groove of things. Watching more and more people pass on by, he could only stare on as if he were whisked away into a sort of La-La-Land of sort. The hustle and bustle of the club was mesmerizing, though it seemed to be a bit more relaxed during daytime hours as it had the appeal of an average coffee shop.

Lazily watching a Command Wolf roam the scene, he simply averted his gaze from the windows and took another swig of his soda, sighing in complete boredom. Seriously, buying parts, or even obtaining information, was hard enough these days. Going back to his sweaty apartment complex empty-handed wouldn't do much, either!

Watching another Zoid battle rage on on the monitor that hovered in the club's center, he could only sigh again in a trance-like state; hoping to one day learn the fine art of Zoid battling. However, as soon as that topic came to mind, he was visited by the image of his master, his sensei, a sort of grizzled and rough sort of guy; whom seemed to be smiling in grim confidence at his ability to get away with not teaching him to be a good Zoid battler, considering he was a veteran fighter in his prime. Exhaling loudly, he swirled his straw around in his drink, watching the ice cubes clatter against the glass.

"Way to be stingy, old man..."

He was once again interrupted by the glimmer of something orange entering the club's cramped spaces. He had caught glimpse of a man, whom seemed to be a legit adult, literally traversing back and forth from wherever location he sat down to the bathroom, to a different spot, to the bathroom again, and then finally onto the floor. Simply chuckling in optimistic tone, he noticed that he seemed to be looking for a spot to sit. Time to get to work!

"Yo, Orange! Seat's open for ya!" he shouted out, waving a hand in exhuberant confidence, beckoning the man to come sit down and join him in friendly conversation. His cheerful personality could only be described by the rougher customers as unwelcome, but the boy knew what he was doing -- and he was especially prepared to kick some butt, should the wrong kind of attention come his way.

[DogTrot]

Patrick glanced around as he heard someone yell out, kinda used to being addressed as orange or some other form of the word. He spotted the boy at the corner table and raised his bottle, before actually making his way on over. It took a while for the black-haired pilot to wade his way through the endless, and seemingly mindless, glob of people. After quite a bit of shoving, toe-stomping, and accidental groping, he made his way to the seat offered to him and flopped down, slouching a bit.

"Thanks for the seat, ponytail. It's a crazy night tonight." He slammed the tip of the bottle down against the table, the cap catching on the edge and popping off. It spiraled through the air, over somewhere into the crowd. He glanced back at the other male, nodding gratefully for the friendly gesture and raising his now-open drink in a sort of half toast.

"So what's your name, kid?" he offered, starting up a conversation with the other warrior. He turned to watch the screens, keeping track of the various zoid battles that were going on. A running tally on the bottom kept track of recent scores, and his own battle seemed to be listed there. He wondered if it was broadcast in the club earlier.

[Marcus Takumi]

Finally, someone acknowledged he existed! Raising his glass in confirmation, he gave a wide grin before slamming the entire soft drink that once lay before him, slamming the glass instrument down onto the table and sighing in relief. Nodding in agreement at his comment on it being a "rough day", he slouched back, showing the newcomer that he was comfortable with his presence. "Yeah, I know how you feel. I can't find a single part dealership anywhere here!" he listed his own feelings about the day, bobbing his head to the beat of a new song, which seemed to be a mix between soul and funk. "In case you didn't know, I'm a mechanic, so I'm looking for some stuff to, like, fix up." His head thought of the name "ponytail" for a quick bit, liking the sound of it; keeping it locked in his subconscious for further use down the road.

Hearing the stranger's request to ask for his name, Marcus brushed the tip of his thumb underneath his nose, grinning that ever-so-cheerful and spirited smile. "Name's Marcus Takumi, and it's a massively awesome honor to get to know such a fine gentleman such as yourself!" he announced cheerfully, extending an open hand in hopeful friendship. Slightly fixing his gaze upon the screen, he kept watch of the Zoid battles going on, still in that semi-dream like state of his, his mind wandering hopelessly about the day he would finally get to learn how to battle.

"So? What might your name be, kind sir?" he finally asked, leaning forward and folding his hands, ever so eager to know more about this new guy. His mind completely focused on the man in front of him, he was completely oblivious to the screen to his left, which flashed slight images of the same man on the screen, revealing his name (unbeknownst to Marcus) as "Patrick 'DogTrot' Norstein".

[DogTrot]

"Mechanic, eh?" the pilot chuckled, flashing a little beaming grin towards the other male across the table. "I do a little work in that myself, though mostly re-painting jobs and installation of existing parts and such. Nothing complicated. I could set you up with a few of the weapons dealers I know, they can get you any weapon parts you need." He chuckles. "There are also always plenty of zoids that need fixing in Romeo City."

Reaching accross the table, his orange-fingerless-boxing-gloved hand stretched out towards Marcus, offering it to shake with the other pilot. He turned away from the TV, not at all noticing what's showing on it over his shoulder. "Pleasure to meet you, Marcus Takumi. My name is Patrick, from the Norstein family. Callsign DogTrot." He gave a firm shake, but a friendly one, before letting go. "I pilot zoids for a living. Do you do any of that?"

[Marcus Takumi]

His day had been made after hearing that this man had also done some mechanical work himself, specializing in paintjobs and simple installations. Though it wasn't all that complicated, it got Marcus to smile. "Kickass! Anything's fine, so long as you can get a Zoid to look hella pimpin' in the end!" he chuckled, signalling a passing waitress for a drink refill.

Upon watching this man extend an orange, fingerless gloved hand towards his own, he firmly shook the extended hand; the acquaintance was finally established! By the way he shook it, too, he had the grip of a fighter amongst him. It instantly piqued his interest, but, like usual, he instantly lost it as fast as he could even pick it back up. "Patrick Norstein? I could've sworn I heard that name before... Even your 'callsign' -- whatever the hell that is -- is familiar..." he muttered, tilting his head after hearing the man introduce himself. Having seen many Zoid battles before, many names would obviously flash on the screen of the recent competitors. Shaking his head, he flashed a sort of stupid grin. "Ahh, I must be imagining things! I haven't had much sleep as of late!"

His ears sort of wiggled at the mention of being hooked up with weapons parts dealers, like that of a dog's when it was signalled that it was being fed food. "Oh, you serious?! Dude, you're a total lifesaver! I just got out on my own, and I'm trying to establish business, but, since youv'e seen me now, it ain't going so well." He stuck a thumbs up, though, winking his eye and letting the other one radiate that optimistic glow. "But that ain't stoppin' me from makin' some moolah!" laughing sheepishly, he nodded his head towards the waitress, whom returned with a fresh refill, and tipped her accordingly. Taking a sip of his drink, he listened intently on Patrick's latest question:

"I pilot Zoids for a living. Do you do any of that?"

Nearly choking on his drink, he violently coughed up air as he swallowed his beverage, widening his eyes and leaning in as much as he could without invading Patrick's personal space. "Holy hell! You pilot Zoids!? DUDE, hella' epic!!!" he had pretty much lost composure as he whispered a shout, obviously letting his inner Zoid fanboy escape. Regaining his sense of composure, he leaned back into his seat, thinking intently on the second part of the question.

Shrugging as if defeated, he shook his head. "Far as battle-wise, I don't have a damned clue how to!" he laughed heartily, taking another swig of his drink. He was fairly honest in his answer, as there really wasn't a point to lie to an experienced pilot. "But I do have an upgraded Rev Raptor chillaxin' on the rooftop, and it's got these hella' pimpin' boosters that I blinged it out with! I also put in this bitchin' stereo system and whatnot, so I can get some beats bumpin' and all that cool shizz, too!"

Letting himself loose again, he shut himself up by giving his own face a slap or two. Semi-frowning now, he stared into his drink, giving a weak chuckle. "Sorry. You probably think I'm some psychopath, don'tcha?"

[DogTrot]

Pat grinned, giving another firm squeeze before letting go of that hand and pulling his own back. He rested both hands behind his head, lacing the fingers together to make a sort of cushion for it to rest against as he leaned back. Propping one leg over his knee, he made himself comfortable in the club's seat. "Don't worry about it, you'll think of it eventually. It'll come to you."

"Here." He pulled out his wallet and started fishing around inside of it, burying his nose and rooting around with the ungloved tips of his fingers. "I've got a card somewhere in here. I'll give it to you, come by sometime and I'll give you all the information. I wish you luck in your business," he stated, pulling out a slim business card. Looking up, he handed it over and grinned. "But not enough that you put me out of work."

Pushing the chair out from behind him, Patrick slowly rose to his feet. He took his time to carefully gulp down every last drop of his drink, before letting out a satisfied 'smack' of his lips. He shelled out a few bills from his wallet before tucking it away, putting it next to the empty bottle. "I think I parked next to it on my way in here. It looked pretty well upgraded. I bet you'll do great once you get started." He winked, before turning. "I'll see you around these parts sometime, maybe on the battlefield. Stop by and I'll give you those dealers sometime, and maybe show you a few moves. Nice meeting ya!"

~EXIT~

[Marcus Takumi]

Laughing heartily at Patrick's comment about putting him out of business, he threw a thumbs up towards his direction, letting loose another spirited grin. "Don't worry! There's plenty of business to go around!" he barked, downing his drink in nearly three, giant gulps. Looking at his new friend, whom was about ready to leave, he seemed playfully disappointed to let someone as cool as this guy go. But hey, he had a life, too!

Being handed a small business card by Patrick, Marcus' eyes glittered like ocean water, as if he had planned to cryogenically frame this card for all of eternity and keep it as a national treasure. It contained all the information on how to reach Mr. Norstein, in which would come in handy for later on. Launching a mischievous, yet bold, smile, he nodded. "Oh, you can count on it!" he suggested, hoping to "prepare" Patrick for a visit or two in the future.

Hearing that he had parked near his Rev Raptor was more music to his ears -- today must be the best day in the history of EVER for Marcus! "Dude, sweet! I can't wait to see what kind of Zoid you pilot! I bet that puppy's juiced to the margin!" he complimented the obviously experienced pilot, his mind alight with imaginative visuals of "DogTrot" kicking ass and taking names on the battlefield. Giddy as a schoolgirl, he did his hardest to contain the amount of sugary fritziness Marcus was bottling up now, hoping not to embarass himself in front of the older adults here.

As best as this day was already, it was further made awesome as his Rev Raptor, Vee, was complimented on how well equipped it was. Smiling sheepishly, he did take into thought that he had only installed boosters and a stereo, of all things. But he took the compliment to heart, and gave a polite "thank you" in response.

Watching the man leave, Marcus aptly waved goodbye to his new friend before slinking back into a dreamy sigh, as if he found the person he had always been searching for. Unable to contain it any longer, he had respectfully tipped the waitress who served him his drinks and dashed out the door to see what Zoid this man had piloted, only to come across nothing but his own Zoid and an empty spot. Releasing a loud shout of determination before going off into a spirited laugh, he beckoned Vee to lower his head and open the cockpit window, allowing him to expertly fling himself into the seat and lock himself in.

"Aww yeah! I think I found my second true calling, baby!" he had shouted, powering up the controls inside of Vee, allowing him to take full, manual steering. Flexing his fingers on the handgrips, the black-haired boy grinned, powering on the visual monitor and igniting the stereo to play a loud and spirited rock theme. "Take that, old man! Once I learn how to Zoid Battle, then I'll come back and whup your butt!" he promised himself towards his grizzled mechanic and Zoid veteran sensei, before launching Vee into a full sprint down the ramp that led up to the roof of the club and down into the distance, practically not knowing where he was really headed.

"FULL SPEED AHEAD, VEE! 'CUZ WE KICK ASS TODAY!"

[EXIT]