rosco_coltrane (
rosco_coltrane) wrote in
nexus_crossings2016-07-19 08:30 pm
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communication and stuff
Rosco is randomly wandering around. He's talking to anyone who is willing.
"They're just some things about this place that I can't get the hang of. Like all the things people go around talking and typing into. I'm just a good old boy from Georgia. What are those things and should I have one?"
He's also a bit confused about jobs and how Nexus society works, especially as a member of the establishment in his own universe.
"How'm I supposed to get work here and what's the employment rate like? I've been feeding myself by selling stuff I find...stuff I find outside that looks unclaimed. I've even sold bottle caps, like that one fella suggested. Is anyone hiring? I don't know much outside of law enforcement."
"They're just some things about this place that I can't get the hang of. Like all the things people go around talking and typing into. I'm just a good old boy from Georgia. What are those things and should I have one?"
He's also a bit confused about jobs and how Nexus society works, especially as a member of the establishment in his own universe.
"How'm I supposed to get work here and what's the employment rate like? I've been feeding myself by selling stuff I find...stuff I find outside that looks unclaimed. I've even sold bottle caps, like that one fella suggested. Is anyone hiring? I don't know much outside of law enforcement."
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"They don't have anything like this where I'm from, either. It took me a while to get the hang of it. But put simply, you use them to communicate with other people across long distances. As long as they have one, you can put in a number and the device will let you speak with them."
He has some thoughts on the man's second question, too. But from experience... adjusting to the strange new world of Earth gizmos is enough to take in at one time.
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"Which brings us to your other question." Felix considers the older man, a little dubiously. He doesn't look like the kind of guards an Imperial is familiar with. Less chainmail, more... hat. "What kind of, er, law enforcement are you used to?"
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"Um. You ain't from Earth?" he asks, a bit weakly. Knowing their are aliens and meeting one isn't the same. "I'm not sure what you mean by type of law enforcement. I'm a sheriff. I catch crooks and keep people from speeding and all. If there's a crime, it's my job to find out who did it and turn them over to a judge."
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He stops to think for a minute. "Actually, this place could use someone to keep... well, order at least. There's certainly no shortage of crime spilling out from the Underbelly." He pulls a face. "You know we had a whole spate of kidnappings a few weeks back?"
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switching journals for convenience!
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"Cell phones started popping up in the 80's, though they were bigger than bricks, dude. By the turn of the millennium we got something closer to this size, although they didn't have all these features and stuff until 2008ish for the general public." He wiggles the smartphone back and forth.
"Told you I wasn't from your time."
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He sits down on the bench next to the young man, looking at his phone.
"Well, I'm from the mid-eighties and even Boss don't have anything like that. What sort of features do you mean?"
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"So it's like a wall phone. But it's also..." He opens a folder and hits a button before a light shines out the back of it. "A flashlight. Radio. Camera. Video camera. Computer."
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Rosco stares at the phone in amazement and gives a delighted giggle.
"Kee kee, that thing just does everything! And all in that tiny little gadget?"
He's impressed.
"You don't have to be rich to have one of those?"
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"Doesn't matter if everyone else has them. You still may not need one."
Considering the second question, she adds, "There are shops here and there. Bartering. Maybe one of them could use a guard? You could ask around."
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"Good afternoon, miss. I guess you got a point. But, I'd like to fit in, if that's how things are done. I ain't been home. If I went home, how would I get back? I mean, this place is confusing, but I would like to explore a bit. Seems a shame not to."
He considers the guard idea. It wasn't exactly the same as law enforcement, but it was something he had the skills for.
"Yeah. I could do that I guess. Thank you."
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She nods and sits up a little. "Might not be much of a challenge for you, if your skill set is beyond that. But it would be something to do. Is the currency here different from your home?"
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"I don't know about that thing there, other then I've seen people here using them." He never got one, and Danse seems okay with not having one.
"As for work, I'm sure some of the businesses here can use some help. Or if you're brave enough, you can find some work in another persons universe." Danse stops polishing the helmet in his hand long enough to laugh at the mention of trading bottle caps for money. "Or you can etch out an existence selling caps for Nexus currency."
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And he is just going to shrug his shoulders about going else where for work, even that is what Danse is going to attempt to do. "And I don't think there's a mayor or president here."
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"I really don't want to get involved in politics. Getting elected sheriff is enough of a pain. I believe in democracy, but elections are a nasty thing to get through."
He considers.
"I guess I could try my hand at private investigating. If there's no real law, then I probably won't need a permit."
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And because - http://i.imgur.com/EM2Hwno.jpg - http://i.imgur.com/RDhCg1j.jpg
ROFLMAO That's very Hazzard like :D
http://imgur.com/a/lPbze this thread has been inspiring. very 50's chic with scorched trees?
It has! Though, I doubt Hazzard has many neon signs. lol
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[Hopefully, Rosco is not scared off by the premise of a giant talking bear, especially one that seems relatively friendly. The second question is something he can personally relate to, hence having an answer to the question.]
"Jobs are not too terrible to find. Delivery services are the best." [Because even in a multiverse setting, people still like having food brought to them.] "Ice Bear can recommend you to a few places."
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"Well. It ain't a good place for ice. It don't even snow at Christmas," Rosco points out. "I'd appreciate any help. I like being useful and I need to earn my keep."
He's not entirely lying. Sure, he's crooked, but he became a cop to help keep order in his town and to protect people.
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[The bear can somewhat sense the uncomfortable presence he's accidentally placed on the gentleman. His ears wiggle for a moment, before offering Rosco his paw for a shake.]
"Ice Bear is happy to help. Please do not be afraid of Ice Bear." [Everyone has a crooked side to them, ever this innocent-looking bear.]
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He hesitates only for a second, before placing his hand in Ice Bear's.
"Good to meet you Ice Bear. I'm Rosco Coltrane. Um. I'll try not to. Just remember you're a lot bigger than me, please."
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"If that's all you know, then enforce the law of here or whatever gods forsaken place you've came from."
He brings the horse to a stop just in front of Rosco, and the golden hand knight doesn't bother to get off from the horse. "Or just continue with the job of being a merchant and looking like a complete fool."
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He eyes the golden armor in distaste. Honestly. Sure, he'd once worn a green suit covered in embroidered butterflies and rhinestones, but he'd been trying to make a point to his brother-in-law. He hadn't covered himself in gold!
"I might be a fool, but even I know gold's too soft to be good armor. You're just trying to look pretty."
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As for the armor, it isn't exactly made of gold for obvious reasons, nor was Jaime responsible for the design of Whitecloak's armor. And as he moves his arm, the 'gold' scales rattle, and his horse turns to the side. The stallion clearly wants nothing to do with this strange world.
Jaime's eyes wander towards the hilt of his sword, and his good hand goes to rest on the lion head pommel. But he makes no move to remove it.
"Any idiot knows that, and I can assure my chest plate is not made of gold."
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Rosco sees the move, but pretends he doesn't. He's glad he has his gun and plenty of bullets. He doesn't want a fight, but apparently not everyone here is friendly.
"That's what I said! You're just trying to look pretty."
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