From Transformers: Lost and Found
|Location||Lost Light: Engineering -- Machine Shop|
|Participants||Getaway, Skids, Gearstrip, Swindle|
|Summary||Getaway's looking to get some stuff off Gearstrip. Skids tags along. Swindle swings by just in time to make the sale.|
The rich scent of spilled oil and brushed dust filter through the air of this industrious complex, a workshop dedicated to the material construction required to keep a ship operational. This is the Machine Shop, an open space with the only walls being the four that define it. This is were tools can be fashioned, parts milled and crude elements refined in a more basic, freer space than a more delicate laboratory. Like peeking behind the curtain of a theatrical play, this is the shop space where walls can be built or smaller vehicles clobbered together.
Along the far wall is a rolling assembly line style work bench, above which are various shelves of tubing, blocks and girders. Off the entrance, both side walls are decorated with all manner of machinery and crafting tools. Stacks of raw materials are kept out of the central floor space and there are bins on either side of the entrance for recyclable spare parts. The room is well lit and there is a constant background hum of the ventilation system, which doesn't do much for that oil and soot smell.
There is a certain added skip to his step as Getaway makes his way along the Lost Light towards the Machine Shop. He's met with Tailgate and things seem to be progressing, ever so slightly, but stuff is at least headed in the right direction. That means he can start devoting some thoughts towards other endeavors. He struts his way into the Machine Shop and looks around, in particular for a handsy little Camien he has heard about.
"Gearstrip?" He calls out because, why not? He strolls up to the first bot he sees, some little blue one. "Hey, ah... you. Youbot. Not mebot, obviously," he chuckles a little. He looks out and around. "Have you see the one they call Gearstrip around? I need a little help with something," he chuckles again, once again amusing himself.
Walking in not far behind Getaway is Skids. After he's had a quick look around the room Skids says to his partner, "If you need to go on errands like this all the time y'know you can send me with a shopping list." Skids then finds the one unoccupied section of wall to lean against while he watches events unfold.
The little blue bot in question, with a little grunt of effort, prises up a tool from the innards of a small scale, upside-down hauling cart she has been working on, and reaches up to shove her goggles back from the pale brightness of her eyes to balance on the crown of her helm instead. Rocking her weight back on the heels of her small feet, she gestures with the long pincer tool, slapping it from her dominant hand to her off hand, and gives Getaway a wide, easy smile. "I've seen me around, sure," says Gearstrip. "I find it helps to look down! What can I do for you?"
There is a visible cringe to Getaway's shoulders as Skids show sup behind him. Yet, all that fades as he turns, arms wide, to greet his best bud. He's certainly not bothered by the fact that he can't go anywhere these days without Skids being right there with him! "Hah, look at you with the quips. I *should* ask you to run errands for me. You know, start making you earn your keep as it were. You might not be the only forgetful one as I clearly forgot how much you love to do the scrub work. My bad!" He motions then, with those open arms, for Skids to come join him.
He then has to turn and, as directed, looks down. "Oh!" Getaway blinks. "Oh!" The faceplate hides any visible smiling. "Forgive me, I should have known. They don't make them like you where I come from," and there he gives the minibot a rather flirtacious wink.
Getaway drops to a knee for Gearstrip. "If you're around I will certainly be glad to look anywhere you might be found." He clears his throat. "Right to it, eh? My, you *are* industrious. Well! I was thinking you might help me with this whole helping-the-ship thing I am trying to do. I hear you share something in common with my pal here," he thumbs up to Skids behind him. "Is there an inch of the ductwork in this craft you haven't been in yet?"
Skids gets up from the wall to return the hug then leans back on it when Getaway turns away. He returns the thumbs up when he's signaled but says nothing further. So far, in so far as Skids knows and remembers Getty, His pal seems on the more mellow end. It's just he gets so wound up. Skids has been sticking to him as much as he can, true, but it just so Getty can't do himself a mischief. One way or another Skids is going to help Getaway.
Gearstrip seems somewhat taken aback, either by the flirting (!), the general effervescence, or the fact that the larger, taller Getaway has taken a knee to get to her level. "Er." She takes a step back, carefully lowering her pincer tool and then hugging it at an angle against her frame so as to not be at risk of, say, gesticulating and accidentally thwacking him with it. "Well, getting to work is kind of what techs like me are for," she says.
She turns her bright gaze curiously to Skids and then back to Getaway. "I don't know," she admits. "I mean, probably not. I kind of get around, especially since I end up doing the filters usually. Whatcha need?"
Whatever Skids is up to behind his back, Getaway plays off like he has no notice of it.
"Well, maybe what you *do* but it's not what you're *for*. That might be a cultural thing though... I think I remember right that your colony was spared from some of the things my planet did to some of us. You get to be what you want, so I think you mean that you're the tech I am looking for." Once again Getaway winks at her. He's not shy about sharing appreciation for what he sees. "Spots like that," he focuses on her cheeks, "I will have to come looking more often..." He leaves that hanging because, well, he wants her to be able to tell him 'no' if he shouldn't.
Noticing the awkwardness with the tool, he holds out a hand... towards Geartstrip. He leaves it there for a lingering moment, maybe not realizing how that might appear. "Oh! I,, if you need help I could..." Hold her things? If she wants. "Right. Right, business. What I need." It's on 'need' that he looks directly at Gearstrip.
"Ahem. So! So.... I have been reviewing things that the Lost Light has gone through and one of the more troubling things I heard about was how a phase sixer was able to disappear into the ductwork. Someone as large (and ugly) as Overlord hiding in the ceiling is, well, troubling! My bud here likes to crawl around in there and I guess you do too? I'd hate to see anything happen to you..." Again he's staring at those spots. "Oh, and to Skids too. So, ah, it seems weird to me that there's not a bunch of cameras up there to see who might be poking around where. Sabotage is a possibility too. You know, something to look out for. I have this big meeting with Tailgate coming up and I would like to point this out to him, but also bring him a solution. That is if you'd be up for something like that."
Skids says, "Don't make it sound like I'm on some kinda hiking holiday up and around there buddy, It was one time and more of that was in the elevator shaft." Skids gets up from the wall and walks over to the others. He asks Gearstrip curiosity piqued, "So what are you working on just now?" Anything to feed the need for learning. In this case all the tools and all the electical or mechanical or other forms of engineering that could be thought of here... Bliss.
Gearstrip lifts her free hand to poke a fingertip at her own cheek. "It's not exactly complex paintwork," she says with a bright but self-conscious laugh. In a social structure that values the artistic above the simply functional, her paint job is a glancing aside at aesthetics. Warming shyly under the attention paid, she smiles, but shuffles her feet in uncertainty. She seems a little confused at first, glancing at Getaway's hand, and then she smiles a little, shaking her head. She turns aside, flipping the tool outward and then setting it down atop the simple craft she was working on. "Nah, I don't need help. It's just big. Hoist was saying the big guys could move more stuff with hitches, so we're slapping together some simple trailers. This one's got an axle all botched up already so I was replacing it and then I'm going to rebalance the wheels, I think there's a weight issue."
Canting her head to one side, she looks over Getaway's masked face with a lingering curiosity plain in her expression. "It was pretty scary when he was in the ducts, yeah. I actually spent some time kind of stuck up in there, couldn't really go very far but also couldn't really get out because I'd be by myself and stuff." Gearstrip is blithe about sharing her old fears, finding them less encompassing and dark in the light of a day far from their advent. "I'm sure Tailgate would see there's good reason to keep an eye on what's going on in the ductwork!"
Paint or no paint, that does not deter Getaway nor his gaze. "Well," he decides after a moment, "Then they are proof to me that you have made another wise choice in regards to yourself, aside from your profession. Very... fetching," he says warmly. Gearstrip might be uncertain but he, well, he's quite okay with putting it out there. In case that wasn't clear, next Getty asks Gearstrip, "Do you drink? I mean, do you like to drink. Could I get you one? Not now, but later. At Swerve's," he suggests.. "In appreciation." For agreeing to help him or for other things? He doesn't specify.
Getaway leans forward a little. "You... were *up there* with him? Overlord. The phase sixer? A Con that has murdered whole planets." It's not that he is doubting what he's been told, though it maybe sounds like it. His eyes go wide as he takes in more of Gearstrip. Finally, he goes, "Wow." He shakes his head. "Wow, wow, wow. Cute *and* brave. That seems unfair that you get to be both. That was your first time facing some*thing* like that? And you stayed up there? My first moments were opening my eyes to seeing Megatron and you know what I did? I ran. Ran and ran until I couldn't run any more. I wish they'd have made me of the stuff you're made of," he says openly.
This knocks him off his feet - literally! He plops down, seating himself, as he looks at Gearstrip with new eyes. Lingery ones still, sure, but maybe now for different reasons. "Yeah... I don't think I can help you at all," he chuckles. "You take care of yourself. Hah, maybe I should just stick to asking you for help on everything, like... you have a bunch of empty or wiped dataslugs lying around no one wants?"
"I hope he wasn't up there! I mean, I saw him, sure, but it was mostly on the ground. When I ran away. A lot. So me too!" Gearstrip gives Getaway a little thumbs up of one hand. "I mean, I guess my first time facing something was when Tailgate and I opened up the sealed bulkhead so we could run away. Did I mention the running away?" Gearstrip laughs again, a little more nervously. Her hands frame at her hips as she ducks her head, saying, "I mean, sure, I drink. Maybe, sometime?" She lingers in uncertainty, for all his warm assurance. She scrubs her thumb hard against her opposite palm in a plainly nervous fidget, but she's still smiling. "Empties, yeah. Well, wiped. We've got whole crates of 'em in here. There's blanks in the library too, you know, but those haven't been used yet, they're mostly for Rewind and the archives project."
Swindle is taking his routine drive around the ship. The engineering wing (As established before) provides an even better view than the observation deck for a consument merchant. Course, that wasn't entirely on his mind at the moment. The whole 'Punch being CounterPunch' thing still was at the forefront of his mind. He needed a distraction. Thankfully, he came a upon a little meeting in...Gearstrip's shop? Hmmm, interesting. Coming in at the tail end of Getawayne's(? that was his name right) dataslug remark, Swindle shifted from SUV mode with a flourish and a charming smile. "Ooooooooor you could just buy 'em new, stretch! Maybe i'll let you 'Getaway' with a discount?" He chortles a little, more at the idea of a discount then the pun. "Sorry, hope i'm not intterupting, don't mind me, please, carry on." Swindle props himself against a wall, watching the little neutral and the autobots like a very boxy looking cat.
Well, it wasn't a 'no'. Getaway nods, as what he takes away from Gearstrip's reply is, "Sometime then. I'll just have to keep asking until it is the right time." Her attempt to offer him some comfort there is not lost on him, not at all. He takes a moment because, well, there's something going on internally for a moment there. Yet finally he says, "It's very dipolmatic of you to say that. You know, Skids and I, were were longterm members of the Diplomatic Corps. We could have used someone like you back there. Think of what we could have avoided with your savvy around."
When Swindle rolls in, Getaway sits up straighter. Much more alert and a lot less friendly. "Well, if it isn't maybe the most useful Con on this ship," he greets. "I could do that, as long as you wouldn't rip me off. I mean, I wouldn't want to deprive the darling Rewind from his oh-so-important project. So maybe I should let you hook me up, Swindle. As long as the merc isn't a bomb or loaded with malware. Or one of those handheld spark-drillers, the kind that bore through you straight to your spark. I mean, the stuff you guys came up with during the war... pure genius."
Skids gently turns to the new arrival and gives a causal wave, "Hey Swindle, what's new?" Skids the looks back to his partner in action. He's good, no doubt about it, just moving the agenda and attacking with such fanfare that it catches people off guard. It'll be interesting to see how his pal matches up against Swindle. Skids knows a lot about a lot but he's not sure who'll come out on top there. Antoher thought hits Skids but, for the moment, it can wait.
Offering no real mind to Getaway's passive aggressive demeanour, he gives Skid's a playful wink, before turning the large purples back at Getaway, only offering a crooked smirk and a chuckle. "Woooow, Y'know pal, I really should hire a PR guy. I mean, in the running is you, Punch and Brainstorm. Eeeeh, but for me to seriously consider the application, maybe make the compliments a bit less backhanded?" At the mention of decepticon ingenuity in the art of killing, Swindle could only manage a shrug. "Well, it was a war pal. Both side made some pretty killer de-alivers, so don't sell your side short. Gideon's Glue? Boooooy howdy! What a classic."
"Oh," Gearstrip says with a little startle as Swindle makes his particular entrance. She offers him a little smile. "Hello. I wasn't really doing anything, don't worry. We're just talking." Dropping her hands behind her back, she laces them together and a little stuttering hiss of her systems as she shifts gears.
"Maybe we'll happen on each other in Swerve's, then, probably when you least expect it," Gearstrip suggests to Getaway on another little laugh, working her shoulders as if to shake out some inner tension. "I don't think I'm really that savvy but thank you for the compliment."
"I'll have to pass. Not only would Skids not allow me out of his sight for the hours you'd no doubt put me through, but I already got a job. With Prowl." Getaway is pretty happy to name drop that one on Swindle since that might be the one Autobot that the conman Con might be afraid of. "To each thei own, I guess. Love how that one example somehow equals the thousands.... anyway, I don't mean to pick a fight, especially if you have empty datasticks I can get off you. Four? Five? Maybe a couple dozen? I don't have many shanix with me, but I'm sure we can work something out. Besides, I need to save some of my funds to buy some drinks later. Maybe. Some time." He elects to make no mention of how many he de-alived, as with Skids, the two of them diplomaticated the HECK out of several Cons. "No short selling needed, I assure you. The best things come in small packages anyway," he notes casually.
Still, Getaway does not stand for Swindle. He does frown a little as Skids doesn't stand for him though, as it is not lost on Getaway how their immediate advantage of numbers is left him feeling pretty alone. Yet, he doesn't press on that, not here. Instead he looks to Gearstrip. "So, we leave it to chance then. It's a good thing I am such a fan of surprises!"
Skids sees the frown and gives an small shrug, hands open, palms facing the ceiling. As if to say 'what now?'. Skids does have his partners best interests at heart but Getaway seems to be wound so tight there's no room for anything. Skids included. With a small sigh he moves over closer to Getaway to try and bridge at leat one of the dimensions of distance betweeen them. "Don't worry about the money buddy, I got you covered. Sticks, drinks, whatever. I gotta be useful for something... right?" Skids says, doing his level best to hide the hurt.
Again, Swindle only offers a shrug to Getaways rant, though he does sneer under his breath "Prowl's worth a thousand planet busters, friend. If Magnus did his job, he'd be banned under the Tyrest accord." His attention is drawn more toward Gearstrip, to whom he is not aquantied. He approaches with his hand extended, offering a friendly handshake to his prospective new friend. "Swindle of Kaon, at your service! I don't believe we met, but you're Gearstrip am I right?" Swindle pays full mind to Gearstrip, but instinctively looks at the Getaway and Skids out of the corner of his eye. Gotta be careful around the ones that freely admit to working for Prowl.
"What's a Prowl?" Gearstrip asks, and what a straight line that could be. Her smile slightly crooked, she tilts her head at Getaway with bright humor warming the glow in her optics. "I'll remember you said that," she says. If she could pull off nefarious, this might sound threatening, but mostly she just sounds kind of like a dork. The faintest pinch waking at the edge of her helm, she looks to Skids: empathetic by nature, she senses tension, but doesn't recognize it, and certain that something has gone on several feet above her head, she purses her mouth a little and says, "I'm sure you're super useful."
Given the proffer of a handshake, Gearstrip studies it for a moment, and then enlightenment dawns with a sunny smile across her freckled face like she's just recalled what it's for. She plops her small hand into Swindle's and says, "Gearstrip of Caminus. Hello!" (She already said hello. Oh well.) "It's nice to meet you, Swindle."
"What, bud? No. Just no. You're useful at everything. Like, literally, *everything*. If you don't know it, give it a moment's research and you're an expert. Not just because of that freaky abnormality in your makeup but because you apply yourself. When you need to." Getaway still doesn't stand but he does stand up for his best friend... to his best friend. In front of other people. Getaway don't care! "You're the nicest, sweetest guy I have ever met and managed to somehow be invaluable to everyone you meet. You're worth crossing the galaxy for, bud. I should know. I did it. For you." He even looks up to Skids and shakes his head at his fellow Bot.
Getaway then tries to think quick. Swindle is approaching Gearstrip and... he visibly tenses up. "Skipping over the questions to stall me, huh? A ploy to raise the price? Fine. Double. No, *triple*," he offers. Maybe that will sway swindle's attention back off Gearstrip. Also, triple of a price he hasn't been quoted yet. Why? He thumbs towards Skids. "Since he's buying."
Next, Getaway groans. "A Prowl is..." Here he gives in to his Diplomatic Corps training as he eyes Swindle as he answers. "Everything our buddy here suggests. We Autobots didn't have phase sixers - monster killing machines that would get dropped on organic world to wipe out *all* life - but what we had was, no, *is*, what we *have* is Prowl. The guy that is behind all of the things that ensure stuff like that, and other things, doesn't happen. Or happen again. He's cold and mean and yet more dedicated than anyone, even a Prime. Maybe as much as a madman hellbent on ruling through tyranny. Maybe that's what it takes from both sides." Here he turns to look at Gearstrip. "He's like... the top cop, for all of us. Especially now that Tyrest is out of the picture. He's the guy that will ensure that Starscream doesn't doom us all... or maybe even the guy that will doom us before Screamer has the chance."
Skids pats Getaway on the back. Smiling happily as he does so. "Archiving project?" Skids asks Gearstrip, "Is that a private project or something for the library?" Skids likes the library. There's plenty to feed his learning complexes there. Also, if he works up the courage, maybe a new job there too. "But, yeah, if Getty wants some of those and there's any you could spare, I'd be happy to help do something to help make up the difference for the loss. Maybe pull an extra shift here or there to keep the workload from being too high. Whatever."
Swindle offers a warm grin to the little Camian. Apart from certian azure fembots, the majority of the faithful of Solas were remarkably pleasent... not something your used to when your Swindle, but fortune can be made by returning such niceties. "Ah, I well <May the Prime of the Forge light out path to friend ship!>" The only phrase he picked up in Camian... not that many seemed to use it. Most spoke basic but, meh, whenever the opportunity arose. Ofcourse this meet and greet would be better without the background static. "Oh for the love of Primus." Swindle seems to have pick up Blast-Off's bad habit of huffing as he has about as much as he can stand of Getaway's Autoclaptrap. "Please just... stop. I can only take so much self important Autobot grandstanding, my motherboard be still." Taking a breath, he wheels around Getaway, face neutral as can be. "Fine, wanna make a deal? Tell me what you need I'll get it you by tonight, 10% off, just please, stop talking about the damned war. I'm sick of every two bit con and bot getting stuck on it like broken Hamonidroid."
<FS3> Gearstrip rolls Way Of Flame: Failure. (1 2 3 2 5 1)
"Aw." Gearstrip looks a little charmed by this open demonstration of friendship. Her smile is wide enough to crinkle the corners of her bright optics, just for a beat or two before it recedes to a more thoughtful look as she listens to the expansive and evidently quite candid precis Getaway supplies on his employer. She says: "Oh. Hm. You sound a little ambivalent."
Looking up at Skids, she smiles a slightly more crooked smile, and says, "That's Rewind's project. I don't know what he's doing with it! I just know that's what the blanks in there are supposed to be for." She gives Swindle a slightly more wide-eyed look for the words out of home, and she answers him with a pretty inappropriate chortle, and says, "Gosh, I didn't expect to hear that one out here in the black."
Eyes narrow. Aimed at Swindle. How dare he wipe out some native line from Caminus to use. The pat on his back stirs him out of staring daggers though, and getaway looks up at Skids, as he remains at Gearstrip-heights. "The library, huh? Still stuck on that place are you... well, yeah, from what I hear Rewind's project is kind of a big undertaking. Archiving EVERYTHING would be. I have to admit, pal, there's a certain amount of comedic justice in you helping with that, but you totally should! Not like Rewind is apt to get much help from that deadbeat Chromedome, so yeah. Hey, shifting through all of that stuff could help you too. You know, jostle the memories and things, and you could also ensure that stuff doesn't get missed. The important things that should be in there."
The promise of a deal has Getaway perking up a bit, since he *needs* those datasticks. "Deal. I'll take all the ones you got. Please make sure they're fully wiped though. Wouldn't want me stumbling upon any hidden secrets you might have on them."
Getaway fights the urge to try to do something impressive in this moment. Something more attention grabbing that reciting something in Camien. "Hrm, oh, on Prowl? Maybe, I guess. Sort of. I just like to be honest about the bot I work for. Besides, it's like... shop talk. We're the ones int he trenches, not guys like him. If I can't trust you guys with how things really are, then who can I. Am I right?"
Skids scratches the back of his neck as he swivels around to Swindle. "Swindle... I wondered if you... that is... do you have... I mean... I might have agreed to help a friend set up a poker night. Thing is I know the rules but I need the chips, table and a good few fresh decks of cards to make it happen. I also need a few players to join in. Players... not as proficient at the game as you or my pal here... if you see what I mean. Other novices. Any way you could help me out there?"
"He he, I try, my dear." He takes a little bow at Gearstrips amusement. Back to the more aggravated party! "Kid, I got no problem with that notion. Datasticks are notorious for being damn cheap to manufacture and transport. After all, I'm not one to let a deal like this..." Turn to the people havn't insulted you yet, pause for dramatic effect aaaaaaaaand. "GETAWAY!" Swindle bends over laughing, or atleast makes a convincing approximation, continuously patting Getaways shoulder like a drum, forcing coolant out of his optic to enhance the very very fake laugh he was making. This ofcourse when Skids mentions gambling, and dropping his attention to Getaway like a bad habit, he enthusiastically remarks. "Oooooooh, you know Skids -by the way didn't di-BAH, doesn't matter- that doesn't sound like half a bad idea! We could do poker! Lithoone pick up! THE WORKS! Oooooh, no no no, we need to this! I got the materials and we have a ship full of bored cybertronians! Easiest activity night ever made!" This isn't any lie. Swindle is genuinely excited for this. Sure potential money could be made, but bring the spirit of the cybertron casinos here was a nostalgically appealing notion.
<FS3> Swindle rolls Deception+presence: Good Success. (6 1 7 6 8 5 6 3 6 2 3 1 2 2)
Gearstrip glances around her -- well, it's not really her -- workshop as though seeking signs that it is more trenchlike than previously supposed, and tips her head slightly in the other direction as she lets her arms fold in a loose cross over her chest. "You'll have to tell me," she says. Her smile slight and a little crooked, she explains: "I don't make a general habit of mistrusting people." Scuffing her boot in a little slide over the floor, she asks a little more warily -- so maybe she's not so trusting as her first words might suggest?? -- with a reset of her vocalizer: "-- What ... game is this? You are talking about a game?"
Getaway makes all the motions of joining in on the laughter at his expense yet he doesn't make a sound. With a name like his, he should expect it and in many ways he has. Not like it doesn't still hurt sometimes. Not that he lets that show! "Like I haven't heard that before," he mutters, to no one in particular, especially as Swindle moves on to babbling at Skids. Regardless, the deal is set which means mission is accomplished, so this is about the time that Getty should see about getting out of here. He moves to stand without thought as to why he sat down in the first place. Gearstrip's comment though immediately stirs him and he looks down, alarmed at himself! "Oh! Oh, well... ah... good." The boot slide is watched but for the moment he steps back, as even the Camien is taken with the talk of poker. "I'll keep an eye out for you at swerve's, G-Strip," he whisper-grins towards her as he also fingerguns down to her. Still, he backs off since there's such a distractive conversation going on to make his exit on. Old habits die hard.
Skids sees his pal making like his name but... flax. He's not going to avoid rising to the challenge when asked a question. He says to Gearstrip, "It's a game. More about the intricacies of bluff and chance rather than the hand you're dealt. I'm helping arrange it for Chromia. It's her night. I'm just assisting. As I'm sure, from your keen enthusiasm, Swindle is going to help as well.” Fishing out another copy of his compendium of card games Skids produces a datapad with the rules of the game upon it. Set to the appropriate section on poker. Skids will have to catch up to his pal later but... he has enough pieces of the puzzle now. He's not quite sure why or how but he can always guess where Getaway's going to be.
The question is asked... the traveller has sought the wisdom of the wise man... and so, it shall be revealed. "What game, my dear Gearstrip? Weeelll, it's so much more than dear Skids describes! Observe, if you will!~" With a whimsical twirl and smooth opening of his stomach door, Swindle reaches into his pocket dimension and effortless launches into the air fresh pack of cybertronian sized playing cards, which somehow against all physics stay in the deck and plomp right back into his hand. Now, to run down the overblown explanation checklist. Step one: Lore. "They say, that it was a lone squad of grunts, whom only had the badly scarred panels of their ship to decide on who would get the first drop of energon! Others say we it picked up from some satellite from a little backwater world called Dirt! Some say the Gamesmiths on Gambulon Delta forged the first omnideck from rare dreamatium alloy, instilling all sentient beings with a thirst for the ultimate in engex and lightly galvanised bolts entertainment!" PAUSE FOR DRAMATIC EFFECT. Step two...:umm... HYPE "All maybe true or false, but hear i hold in my hands is the universal standard. 52 Cards, charge by the guiding hand themselves with the power of luck! Looking for those brave enough to tame their wild powers." With finesse, Swindle pulls out a Queen of Diamonds, placing it in Gearstrip's hand. "But yes, you should totally join us for a game some time. It'll be fun."
Gearstrip answers Getaway's fingerguns with a (possibly equally dorky?) doubled thumbs up. Her look is obscurely thoughtful, though her smile seeps back as she glances back at Skids and Swindle. "Well, if Chromia thinks it's a good idea, I'm sure it's fine," she says. She gives Swindle a look of wide-eyed fascination, although it's not clear whether she's buying it precisely; the crinkle of humor lingers irrepressibly in her expression, threatening to break out across her lips at any moment. She turns over the card now in her hand, examining it. "I'm not sure I have the power of luck," she says with a chortle on her breath. "At least not the positive power of luck. But I like games. And other fun things."
Skids says, "It is a lot of fun Gearstrip. I think you get it when I say that it's for Chromia more than about who wins or loses." Skids swivels to Swindle and says, "Not that I'm saying that, like any game of chance, someone can't make some money. I just need the works. Tables, dealers... what am I saying. You know how it works. I can assume, by you're enthusiaism that you're on board though." Skids looks at the door. "Sorry, I gotta catch up to Gertty. Otherwise it won't end well. trust me." Skids waves as he drives out of the machine shop.
"In?! As if you could ever tell me not to Skids. Oh and, tell Getaway his order will be with him soon. I'd have to throught another insighful rant about his big damn hero, Prowl." He laughs, but it's probably clear he isn't kidding, hence why he only mentions it whilst Skids is leaving. Swindle seems to ponder the deck in his hand, then turning to Gearstrip he places it in her hand. "You can keep this one. I've too many to count at this point and every self respecting gamer needs his or her deck. Have a good rest of your Gearstrip! Hope to see you at poker night." Swindle offers a bright smile and a playful wink as he starts on his way out of the workshop.