Posted by Lieutenant Commander Dagen Thor (CE) in Main Sim Undisclosed location Sir I am ready for my close up (CE)

Posted by Captain Calvin Marius (Captain) in Main Sim Undisclosed location Sir I am ready for my close up (CE)

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Dagen Thor (CE) in Main Sim Undisclosed location Sir I am ready for my close up (CE)
Posted by… suppressed (2) by the Post Ghost! 👻
snip
“Of course,” the prim woman clenched her jaw hating that she had lost control of Dagen even for a split second. Digging her nails into his arm, she prodded him towards the patio. “Try anything like that again and I will jettison your wife’s body into space using a transporter.”

Did she not know what he was capable of and did? What he had to do in his pursuit of his runaway sister or the desperation on OP42? That was not a threat that he would take kindly to or let pass. For now he ground his teeth and tried not to let those ghosts of his past resurface too suddenly or be noted in his returned glare as she navigated him toward the patio.

They walked onto the patio and the prim looking woman let go of Dagen’s arm. “I am not completely a monster unlike your overlords.” Flicking her hand she knocked over a vase letting it shatter to the floor. “You have as long as reasonably expected for her to clean this up.” She did not actively tell Dagen to help but continued forward after berating him for his clumsiness. Moving to the edge of the patio, the woman waited and observed what Dagen would do with his time with Reia.

GM

What was this? Psychologically the good cop portion of the relationship? Or to pacify him with a moment with Reia to consider more pliant compliance to her demands? He didn’t miss the open door. Wordlessly he went to a knee and started picking up pieces. He was taking his time - not to prolong the time he had with Reia but taking care to not cut himself on the shards. It wouldn’t do to have a bunch of band aids on his fingers in this gathering later whatever it was. “Are you okay?” he asked her quietly when she came within range. That gave him a moment to look her over to see that she was uninjured. “You have got to get one of those outfits,” he said with a wink. “Apparently I’m a grease monkey chauffeur and Bailey is bartender. I can guess your role.” His voice dipped as he piled larger pieces to one side. “What is this?”
Dagen

OOC: I am picking this thread back up so we don’t have to create a bunch of new ones for now.

Following the Prim-looking woman, Dagen was led into a garage that was far from the grease pit once would think. Vehicles lined the walls that cost three times the lifetime salary of a Starfleet officer for one vehicle. Whether Dagen enjoyed vehicles or not he was an engineer and an engine was an engine. Much like a civilian mechanic could only dream about touching a warp core and poking around, these vehicles were equivalent. If Dagen was not interested in the vehicles, there were tons of parts lying around to fix the vehicles. Computer consoles for vehicles, comm radios for vehicles, and many more parts lined the shelves so that everything was ready to fix a complete vehicle at a moment’s notice.

Dagen whistled albeit a different kind of whistle. Those were the kind of vehicles one saw at shows behind force fields. His eyes locked onto an Antares Stratoskimmer, a rather ostentatious name for a vehicle that never left the ground but it was still sleek and overpowered. Twenty six different coolant units in the micro fusion engine made that baby purr and, if desired, the ‘retarder’ could be switched off to give it a satisfying rumble. He moved along the line of cars taking them in. Someone liked cars but by the look of it that someone liked to look at them more than drive them. He heard the soft whine of a replicator and turned in that direction.

Walking to a replicator, the Prim woman punched in a code to activate it before replicating a much more respectable-looking uniform than what he was wearing. “Shower is in the back. The guests will be arriving in less than an hour. Do not leave this spot and be ready to do your job.”

GM

Coveralls were pretty generic but to have his size for something as precise as that kind of uniform, likely tailored per se, was moderately disconcerting. His eyes followed her gesture to the showers then to the chrono on the wall in the garage. He didn’t need ‘that’ much time but then he’d have time to poke about the cars. Which ones to have a back seat adventure in with Reia, and which best for a getaway. His job. His ‘mission’ .. whatever that was, but that word was an intriguing one that had his own wheels turning.
- Dagen

All things considered, Dagen simply didn’t know what to expect. While everything was moving into a much more straightforward sense with his ‘job’, Dagen thought, while he was stepping into the shower. It was pretty well appointed too. Not a greasy out house type of garage shower either but one that was classy. His eyes looked about. If there was a camera in here he’d never know it. These days anything like that would be quite invisible to the eye without sensor equipment. He intended the shower to be quick anyway so to give him more time to look about these vehicles. The Trill was pretty certain that the ‘class’ of vehicle that would be arriving that he’d be attending would be classy too and each model would, in essence, be a ‘type’ of other similar model. This would be like him going to school. This kind of class he would enjoy.

As quickly out as he was in, Dagen dressed in the offered clothes. They fit … really well. As he looked at himself in the mirror he thought to himself of the dashing secret agent about to mingle with the aristocrats to eke out clues and information.
- Dagen ..

Checking the chrono on the wall the Trill noted he still had some time so did some window shopping for vehicles. He and Reia had talked about different styles of homes and ships that they might retire to or have in the wings for a holiday. That was certainly fine but hey, one had to travel about from said ship or home and perhaps one of these bad boys of vehicles may not have an active copyright patent on them to prevent a bulk transporter from replicating one. That was the problem with replicators and legal representations. There were still limits to what a replicator could do and always tried to prevent ‘cheap knockoffs’. Replicators were cheap and could do a particularly good ‘knockoff’ of almost anything - provided that the pattern was there. Therein was the legal wrangling, not to mention the national security wrangling, defense wrangling, cultural wrangling and a host of others that prevented just ‘anything’ from being replicated. And that included antiques. The Ferengi were known for that kind of operation, even among one another and even had an ad hoc Rule of Acquisition around it .. ‘Knock offs are gold but the original is latinum.’ The new shoes felt good even if they were a little stiff with only a hint of a click on the garage flooring.
- Dagen

“Yo Grease monkey,” a man called out waving Dagen towards the entrance of the garage. “Car ain’t gonna park itself,” he rolled his eyes and walked back to this vehicle letting the woman out who was waiting rather impatiently inside.

Dagen had not heard the vehicle come up. That was one quiet ride! he thought to himself as he turned, glanced at the man then the vehicle. It looked nice but it had a used look to it which the ones in the garage here didn’t have. Or so was his opinion. Dagen wanted to snort at that quote. Ain’t gonna park itself. There is proper language for you, and highly inaccurate. The built in AI in any vehicle could easily park itself. Perhaps this fellow was not used to that feature, but he kept quiet about it and, after a moment’s pause smartly strode forward.

“Ugh I am so glad we are here first. Means we can leave first,” she tossed her ebony hair over one shoulder. Tilting her sunglasses down she let out a small annoyed grunt. “You’re not going to be doing repairs right? I mean you are dressed like that because you plan to stay clean and not get grease all over the inside of the car…right,” she spoke as if Dagan was a small child whose only reply was to be yes.

‘Right, park it nearest first for just such an accommodation - but - he thought - not the closest as there may be others who were in greater social rank that would need to be positioned better.’ .. He thought her hair was nice, but fake. She evidently had no clue on what was ‘under the hood’. Lubricants and the like were internal. He would have to work hard to get dirty in one of those shy of getting under it or doing a serious dismantle job. Still he was curious. “No grease, ma’am,” he said.

Tossing Dagen the code fob to the car, the man leaned in and said in a half whisper, “If you scratch the paint I will garnish your wages for the next ten years. If not there is a twenty credit tip if you keep it just like this when you return it.” He made a snicking sound with his mouth and pointed his finger at Dagan like the man was the perpetual drunk uncle that always thought they were both funny and cool but mostly just annoying.

GM

Oh boy, this one was going to be roaring drunk by the end of this and likely engaging auto-drive for the way home. “No worries, sir,” he said, snatching the fob. Somewhere in this he was sure that he was insured by Starfleet for just such a .. situation? “And thank you, sir,” he said about the credits. Cheap, too. He should hook it in for a diagnostic scan and give him a running list of things that it needs work on. Idly he wondered that it was going to be easy to park these but how did one keep all the fobs in order? There MUST be a cabinet for just that sort of thing - locked, he was sure, and, he was just as sure it would be biometrically set for his access too.

Dagen waited for them to shuffle off thinking they must be made for one another. He needed to channel his inner Thrace, Thor’s second host, to bring out a bit of the inner darkness in order to navigate this world a little more smoothly. Then, hopping in the car he took a moment to admire it before activating the fob and the vehicle, its own perimeter detection systems, before shifting it slowly to a stall, figuring he would have to do a repeat performance a great deal tonight.
- Dagen

As Thor backed the car into the stall he felt a bump as if he hit something solid. The perimeter alarms of the car did not go off and the car seemed to be fine. It was as if Thor hit an invisible wall for him. Leaning back in the seat, Thor would feel the soft, plush material of the seat suddenly felt hard like a brick wall even though his eyes were telling him the material should be velvety to the touch.

GM