silph_co | He's Going The Distance (Open)

Who: Dirk Strider, OTA
Where: Goldenrod Rocket Labs
When: Early March!
Summary: If you want to steal some Lapras, you must first.... build a giant robot?
Rating: PG-13 for cursing and Dirk-like behaviour

Dirk's presence in the Rocket labs is pretty much continuous lately. Two full time jobs and a fervent desire to be anywhere but in a shared dorm randomly generated Rocket personnel made his whereabouts something of a guarantee anyway, but with the successful integration of his (un)patented BroPro and PokeGear, he's gotten started working on something specific.

Something... big. Something mechanical, maybe even automechanical. Something with huge cameras for eyes and a head bigger than him.

This is... fine. It's got to be fine because he must have approval for it; he certainly couldn't hide it even if he wanted to.

Most everything is joined to some kind of concave sheet metal layer, and as days and weeks pass, his upper half sometimes disappears entirely into this as he progresses to affixing wires, hard soldering the panels, and occasionally just ripping everything apart and throwing it in big noisy heaps of twisted aluminium and wrenched steel.

It looks like... a turtle shell?

...

(Sometimes, you can even find him sleeping in there...)

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tyler doesn't exactly make a habit out of seeking out Dirk. It's a bit tricky to be friends with Psychic Ground Zero when your only real mainstay companion is a Psychic bird that hates him.

But, well. They work in the same place now, so he ought to try and play nice for a bit. Even if the guy is a grade-A douche, it's the kind of low-level asshole fuckery that Tyler can get behind. And frankly, he misses that kind of banter.

When he finds Dirk working in his personal lab, or whatever the fuck he might call it (is he the kind of person that would sincerely call it his lair? Tyler thinks Dirk is), he sends a text message first.

Your shift starts in half an hour, you know. Eat some fucking breakfast.

This is very shortly followed - literally, shortly as in Tyler waits for Dirk to actually look at the message and read it for half a second - by a sealed ziploc bag, containing a greasy-looking cheese and bacon toasted sandwich, being hurled with surprising accuracy at Dirk's head.

It isn't really "Dirk's" lab so much as it's the lab he started in and rapidly crowded everyone else out of, thereby precluding any other possible labelling based on use alone.

So the same way a lot of things become Dirk's, ultimately.

Pun intended.

Anyway.

He has not read the text message, and whether or not he even knows he received one is dubious. That would be a nice explanation for the lag between the incoming projectile and his hand, anyway. He catches it, yeah, but messily--the mess might be contained in the bag, but it's a pretty nasty price for any cool points he might have earned by intercepting the thing without looking up.

He regards the ex-sandwich silently for a moment, shrugs, and pops the bag open.

Then he checks his messages.

Then he sends one back. In that order.

You didn't even ask if I keep Kosher first.

I did not, no. That would be because nothing here is actually kosher - or halal, since you're being anal-retentive, but I'm more familiar with the latter - because I am one hundred percent certain Judaism as a concept doesn't exist here.

Now if you'd just said 'vegetarian' instead then I would absolutely be in the wrong for assuming, but since you decided to try and take the 'holier than thou' routine I am under no obligation to cater to your fuckery.

He sends it all with a straight face and a dry look, leaning casually on the doorway as he types.

Also since you're being a dick about it, that sandwich was 50 bucks so either pay up or eat up.

Good thing this shit is basically Monopoly money.

Like being back on Earth C. Boonbucks printed in absurd quantities, values maintained solely by the power of belief in those values.

He opts to just sort of push the mess of carbs and protein up from the bottom, biting into it as it starts to emerge from the bag for minimal mess. Like a freezie pop, or a tube of toothpaste.

That's one thing the big guy and economics have in common.

What meaning does the gold standard have to an alchemist, sort of thing.

He moves into the lab then, so he can get a closer look at the giant-ass shell Dirk is working on. Gotta say, he's hella curious.

What's with that thing? You going to make a mobile home or something?

Rather than wasting his (proverbial) breath, Dirk gives Tyler short nod--the cool, bro's version of 'got it in one,' or any similarly unnecessary verbage.

This? No. Already did one, anyway. Not that I needed one; Carly paid commission and I felt like a challenge.

This is a motherfucking robot.

Amazing, how a man of such verbosity can choose to sum it up in a single gesture. Tyler wonders if it hurt him to do it.

But you know what? Robotics are still a cool enough thing that Tyler is genuinely kind of interested, even if he doesn't particularly show it. He doesn't want to give Dirk the satisfaction.

I suppose if you know how to code, it's not unreasonable to presume you know how to apply that to robots in some way. Is this another challenge or did you just decide you wanted a motherfucking robot for yourself?

Painful? No. It's the only other way Dirk is capable of approaching the task. It's either all of the words or none of them. Or a single six-word missive that includes at least one profanity.

Those often bear bad news.

Those are the same question. It's something to do, just like planning, preparing, and executing a heist is something to do. All of those things are happening here, in case that somehow wasn't clear yet.

Edited 2020-03-22 20:58 (UTC)

The word 'heist' gets his attention (despite the eye-searing orange delivering it), and he raises an eyebrow at Dirk.

So what do you plan on stealing with this one? Something this big, it must either be camouflage or a trap.

He pauses, then adds.

Which is probably the same question again, isn't it. He's getting a vibe.

He's Going The Distance (Open)

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This was the stupidest tag I could have written, probably

Its beautiful

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Why do so many of my tags to Tyler feel like shitposts

they just feed into each other's dumbassery so well

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