|What: Dom's got an unusual weapon to keep fed. Fortunately, she knows someone that has a talent for creating things out of thin air.|
Things have been changing for the mercenary running by the name of Domino. New paths, different job options, the need for a new car... Some things remain consistant, however. She's fueled by certain basics, some of which are more difficult to acquire than others. As luck would have it, new connections made by chance meetings have led to a very special opportunity for one in her position. Today it's all about strengthening one of those connections.
The overcast sky casts a light drizzle which mists the still but chilly air, casting vivid halos around the lights of the city. The ambience is perhaps a little more spooky than what she requires, but it also helps people whom don't wish to be seen to disappear into the dull colored background. The call had been placed in advance, a request to meet at the cemetary for a chat. A possible business opportunity had been underlined, hopefully offering a little more incentive to the crafter meta. Either this works or it doesn't, but she needs to find out which it's going to be.
Life took a turn for surreal meeting a certain group of folks. She's not sure what to think of it all. But Lunair does need a vehicle and to locate a suitable LunBase or whatever. It's been strange shifting priorities and getting used to people. Either way, connections are good - even if her attempts at them sometimes go about as smoothly as vodka flavored sandpaper against a match. But it is nice to look up to someone, meet people and all that jazz.
Lunair carries an umbrella with an LED handle with her, the soft glow piercing the fog just a touch. She pulls her light jacket over her shoulders, and peers around as she enters the cemetary. There's something about the atmosphere that lends it a supernal, leaden dread. Is it the subtle memento mori? The fear of cheesing off the dead and making an immortal enemy with *nothing better to do*? Or maybe it's just the climate. Either way, she arrives as promised... looking here and there in the cemetary, mindful not to step on anything.
By comparison, Domino can be found as the shadowy, gothy looking trenched woman who's ..sitting hunched forward on a headstone. Classy. At least her feet aren't on the dirt next to it. The LED glow off of that umbrella quickly draws her attention, not many other people would be out this way at this hour looking to -draw- attention to themselves. In another moment the patch-eyed merc is back to her feet, closing the distance with hands in pockets and a casual stride. She may not know what it is that you need, but she's willing to bet that she's got a good enough idea.
It's the same thing that most people want in this city.
"Heya, kiddo," Dom offers with a light smile. "There's no point in dancing around this fire so I'll get right to the point. I'm not sure how comfortable you are with that little trick that you do, but it has some definite uses. I'm willing to pay you for them, and your time. You won't have to go out into the field, you won't have to do any fighting. If you can help keep me supplied, you'll make yourself some easy cash. Simple exchange of goods, nothing more." What she doesn't say is that this arrangement would be completely independent, no ties to the group of misfits where the two had originally met.
Ooky spooky! Well, then again, there is a lot to be said for the dead being gone and all that. Hard to say. She may or may not want to draw attention - so much as not want to get run over. But either way, she peers over at the greeting. She didn't jerk or startle - much. Lunair blinks and smiles faintly. "Hello there," She replies quietly. She glances over her shoulder, just in case, as she ambles over. Carefully, so carefully, she sits nearby, folding her legs beneath her. Her blank stare lingers, but it seems more faint now that she's paying attention. The trouble with that sort of thing is ebb and flow.
She's a good audience at least, looking up to Domino. She tilts her head, looking thoughtful. "Well. There's still a lot to learn about it," She admits. "But..." Hmmm. She's not too sure on some of the details of it's workings, it seems. "... I guess that doesn't seem like too bad of a job," She smiles faintly. That's all. Just a bit of help here or there, right?
Dom should have assumed as much. You're still young, it's a unique power. How does one determine what the limits of it are? Fortunately, she can think around the issue with nary a hiccup in the conversation. "Good point. Alright, we can also consider this to be an exercise in capability. We already know that you can pull some pretty big toys out of thin air. I don't need you to hammer out enough ordnance for a small army in one sitting, so no problem there. Are there any problems with complexity, material types... I don't know," she admits with a slight shrug, "maybe how long it lasts for? I still have no idea if that trick is some sort of 'hard' illusion, or what. But, yes. Just a little here and there."
One of her hands comes out of a deep pocket, holding a couple slivers of a brilliantly polished metal. They look like spikes, six millimeter diameter nails with the heads missing. "This is one. No parts to them, the complexity is in the size and precision of their shape. This isn't something that I can run out and buy more of, and trying to machine more of them would be a waste of my time. Think you could replicate something like this?"
Lunair looks apologetic about it. It is a quirky power - on a good day, and she's still jealous of dragon guy, sometimes. Either way, she tilts her head. "Um. Well, for what it's worth, the weapons and such do seem to genuinely exist. I just hadn't needed to keep it around too long," Least of all the oh so very illegal ones. "I just have to be careful with how much I do quickly, or I get sick," What that means is vague. "I haven't really pushed it... I could make like, a lightsaber I'm pretty sure... and Deadpool had a laser gun once... or that shotgun with the grenade rounds, I think," She taps her chin. Details get lost on her sometimes. She shrugs.
Lunair peers over at the metal spikes. Her eyebrows lift. Hmmm. She rubs the back of her head. "I think I could. If I can make Deadpool his red and black gun with special rounds... this shouldn't be too bad, I bet," Smile. "I'm not too sure the metal off hand though?" She's not a metallurgist, but she does know most common compositions. "Yes... I think I can."
A lightsaber..? No kidding? Gosh, who -does- she know that fancies super high-tech weaponry... This could prove to be interesting. Yet, with that in mind, what she ends up asking next is "You made colored guns for Deadpool?" Domino shouldn't be too surprised, of course Wade would have jumped on powers like yours the first chance he got. Seems like she's late to this particular party! "Aluminum alloy, I think. I can find out the specifics if you need, it's important with these ones. But, let's keep things simple for now, I'm in no rush."
A wad of paper money is pulled out of her other pocket, flipping out five hundred dollar bills then holding them out to you. "Let's find out how long your creations can last, to start. Doesn't have to be anything serious. Make a rifle or something that catches your eye and a handful of bullets for it, find somewhere to hide it and mark the time on the calendar. Days, weeks, months..? Hell, even if it's only a couple of hours. You should know what you're capable of, and when you know what all you can do then I'll know what to ask from you." Even temporary lasting bullets would be a serious boon in her line of work. Forensics would throw a fit!
"Yeah, he wanted that bull pup gun in red and black," Lunair quirks a little smile. She seems fond of the guy, in her own, odd way. "Seems to be his color scheme," She considers. She shrugs at that. It's one of those things in this world that just baffles her so that she goes with it. "Sure. Specifics would be kind of good, I think. I know most of the common makes, but ... I'm not sure I've seen this one much," She admits. Her eyebrows furrow. She blinks at the offer, tilting her head. Lunair's expression is a little stiff - as if she had some trouble emoting now and then, but she is certainly curious. The eyes have it, perhaps.
She seems -really- surprised when the money comes out. Like a deer in headlights, she freezes up. "Oh! Um, sure thing," She nods. "I promise. But um, thank you." Goodness, wow. She's briefly overwhelmed for a moment. Deep breath and careful acceptance. "Um." Fidget. "Well, I appreciate it and I'll test it," She promises. "I'm still looking for a good spot to call my own for now... but I think that's a good idea. Thank you." It seems a safe, reasonable way to test things out.
The best way to show one is serious about what they're looking into, and to keep matters private, is cash up front. Dom knows what it's like to feel that her time is being wasted, and this matter could become a very important one for her in the near future. Not even Deadpool needs to know about this arrangement. It's not the end of the world if he does find out, but she'd rather it be kept way down low. "Maybe sometime I'll ask for a black and purple one," she says with a light smirk. "I'll see about getting the details for these," she says while dumping the metal slivers back into their pocket. "I'd be more surprised if you did see them before tonight, far as I can tell they're part and parcel with a prototype. Things like that can be a pain to feed."
Hmm, still looking for a place to call her own..? "Last I heard, Deadpool's got a place staked out where us gun for hire types can crash. You might be able to find some space there. Beyond that, if there's anything that you need besides the green stuff then you're welcome to ask. I'm not above the barter system, if we both get what we're needing then we'll both be happy." Heck, some things are much easier for her to make good on than money out of pocket!
Lunair seems to trust Domino well enough. But she's also as easy to pin down as a greased slinky. Lunair is also very easy going, mostly. She smiles faintly. "I think that'd be doable. That's a pretty combination," She considers it quietly, hazel eyes closing a little as if trying to picture it. That seems to be a big deal to her - picturing it. "And I appreciate it. Honestly, I hadn't - or if I did, I'd forgotten. I have to read and see things. Sometimes stuff like Future Weapon helps, but I think my brain only fits so much..." She offers quietly, wryly. Her speech is just a touch less stiff than usual. "And I imagine so. But a lot of prototypes fail..." And so not many are made to stem the loss.
Indeed, she is! "I found some nice cottages - though the bad weather interrupted me. I feel a bit weird inviting people over, but maybe a public room..." Hmm. She rubs the back of her head. There's a faint smile at the offer. She genuinely seems touched by the trust. Almost like a feral animal taking some bait. Thankfully, Lunair doesn't grab steaks and run off with them - though it is an odd sort of problem. "I appreciate that. Um, I'd be glad to do that in turn, too..." She considers. "I have most of my stuff in a suit case till I really get settled in. I brought a couple of small things to Deadpool's place." But she has to ponder giving Deadpool beanbags...
Dom may be a tricky one, but she's typically a solid ally for anyone that manages to get that far with her. And so long as there aren't complications between said alliance and matters like massive sums of money. But, one should always be nice toward those that keep them supplied in weaponry! She can only take so much of using ancient Soviet-era surplus before she's ready to move onto newer and better things. Also, hey. Is she hearing this right that you can be forgetful..? Because something like that could prove to be useful, too. It's not lying when someone honestly can't remember the details, after all. "Yeah, I don't know how solid the design is on that one. Just another item on my to-do list." Still. A free railgun. How could she say no to that? If she can make it work then by golly she's -going to.-
"You shouldn't get in the habit of inviting people to your personal space unless you fully trust them, just as a general rule. Picking a location for a meeting is an art form all of its own. Case in point," she says while glancing around the two to the still, foggy cemetary air. "That might be a good place to start, if you can put up with Wade's antics and not go insane. If he gets on your nerves too much then just aim for the head, it'll buy you a couple of hours of peace." It's worked for her before, it can work for anyone. "He probably won't ask for rent, should give you a chance to round your finances together. Once we get to the bottom of your abilities you can count on seeing more income in your near future." Ammo alone gets to be pricey.
Lunair has a fairly steady, but ultimately unenhanced memory. It's wonderous how much brute routine and memorization will do, but it has its limits. Still, some things just seem lost on Lunair and it's an earnest sort of loss. Oh well. At least she's familiar with lots of new and shiny weaponry. She's yet to create something rusty... yet. She tilts her head. "It's alright. Seems better than the old war approach of doling the weapon out and finding out later it's awful," So many, many fallen models. She smiles faintly. And really, free railgun! Hard to beat. Railguns have a certain fun factor to them. Lunair seems willing to try, at any rate.
"Oh, I don't. I just prepare for the possibility." She's deliberate at times. "And yeah..." A glance around. There's a little, amused smile at mention of Wade. She shrugs. "It's odd, but he doesn't bother me too much. I don't understand a lot of it, but he's energetic and mostly happy. I guess I can appreciate that." It's certainly a contrast to her skulking about. "Besides, I need somewhere with a lab. I doubt people wanna go somewhere stinky," Her nose wrinkles. Ew. "And yeah, I hang out there sometimes," She smiles. "I appreciate it."
"Yeah, tell me about it... And all of those failed POS designs end up on the market because no one wants them and everyone wants to ditch them for some fast cash. Thus, we get gang bangers that have Saturday night specials that cost them less than a pair of Nike's. Quality still costs." It'll cost a lot less if she can get them through you, too!
Well now, Domino's interest is officially caught once more. "A lab? What would you need one of those for?" And could she trade in high-end lab equipment as a form of payment? She comes across enough of it on some of her jobs! "Glad that you two can get along, it'll make things a lot easier for all involved. I'll ask you how that's going after a couple of years," she teases. With your appreciation she lightly waves a hand, "It's no matter. We look after our own, kiddo." Granted you may not be 'one of them' per se, but you have managed to become absorbed into their dysfunctional little family. From there, being slightly insane is a survival trait.
Lunair nods at that, looking thoughtful. "It does. I try to make sure mine are good quality, at least," Whether or not they are permanent. "AKs seem to be plentiful, but they're a pretty good workhorse..." She considers it. Lunair certainly seems willing to help the supply a little, but there's an odd curiosity and awe, maybe. Like looking up to someone. She is quiet for a moment at the question. Her expression shifts. "Well. It's kind of a weird thing to admit," Pause. "But I know a lot about toxins and poisons. If I don't have to fight someone, that's better. I'm - not all bullet proof and stuff." And it's kind of a pain when you hang out with a lot of people who ARE. "Though, truthfully, it gets kinda weird when you overdo a hallucinogen and you get a guy thinking he's Skeletor slapping a pretty pony princess..." She shifts a little, looking sheepish. "Usually, I just clear people out or weaken them. But y'know." Shrug. There's a moment of silence, her stare briefly blanking out.
She shakes it off after a long moment. "That'd be handy," Nodnod. "Lab equipment is kind of a pain with all the tracking in place now. Guess they're worried about meth heads and people doing stuff." Sigh. Deep breath. But at the last bits, she brightens a bit. "It's hard to explain. But people are. And I appreciate it." Nod. Really.
Plot thickens. Toxins, and poisons, and lethal weapons, oh -my.- This right here, another reason why they look out for their own. The range of possibilities that runs through Dom's mind when you tell her this detail, she's actually looking for an excuse to need something like that thrown together! "Alright, tell you what. Find yourself a place where you can set up shop and I'll see what I can do to help get your lab supplied." Because the sooner she can get -you- up and running on making toxins, the sooner -she- can have them as another available resource. There's a passing moment when she gets this 'who the heck is Skeletor?' look, but it passes by just as quickly.
Back to the here and now. "Alright. You've got my number and this weather stinks, keep me posted on your longevity test and I'll get the alloy pinned down on those slugs. We'll go from there. Sound good? Regardless of what the results are, we can do more business before long."
And depending on how you look at it, it's either eminently practical or remarkably dark and terrifying at her age. Hard to say. At least she knows not to drink things without peering into them? Or not to stash the hallucinogens next to the OJ. Ahem. Lunair rubs the back of her head. She blushes faintly. She seems a little awkward talking about herself. Either way, she seems happy enough it went over well and didn't scare Dom off. She is quietly still, smiling faintly after a moment. "Thank you. I appreciate it," She nods. And don't lick the toads. Never lick the toads. "It sounds fine," Yup! She'll go with it.
"I do. And sure thing. I'll find a safe spot," That's challenge #1. Making sure the stuff doesn't get used unwittingly or found by curious staff. "It's good to see you again, too." That's about it from her mostly. She seems to be on board.