wastedcreation | open post

RP here baybee

It is a pretty juicy bicep, and instead of rolling his sleeve back down, he rolls up the other to match it. His left arm is tattooed as well, simple blackwork circuits making patterns around his wrist and up towards the elbow. He takes a draught off his beer, then reaches up to pluck the bigger piece of his Interface off his face. (There's a smaller, more discreet piece on the other ear, tucked up over the curve.)

A few twists of his hands, and he converts the wearable to its handheld mode. He pulls up a picture on it-- him leaning his shoulder up against the leg of a robot, the machine sleek and grey-black and clearly armed. Devero's in his jockey suit, also sleek and grey-black and not the fatigues he's wearing tonight in this bar. He's got his arms and ankles crossed and looks very pleased with both himself and his machine. There's a symbol matching his tattoo visible on one of the bigger metal panels of the thing.

"My Scorpion makes me a scorpion," he says before holding the device out for his companion to see without going as far as handing it over. It still speaks his words even switched over to this mode as it has been.

The tattoos are very cool, and are not completely unlike Tox's. He wishes he could show them off without blowing his cover.

He watches with interest, both at the transformation of the interface itself and the picture of Devero with the robot. Noting the weapons on the thing, he realizes that this intel is far juicier than whatever diplomatic thing is happening in this town. This is enemy weaponry, shown to him proudly like a trophy. His eyes scan, trying to memorize every detail of the machine, though his eye keeps being drawn to the confident man next to it.

"Wow. That's incredible," he says, which is his genuine opinion, but he adds in the wonder of someone allegedly less versed in technology than he is.

"Do you have that here with you? Or is it only for more dangerous places?"

"Thanks," Devero says, swelling a little like he's the one who designed the thing, rather than just the guy who uses it. He twists his Interface back to its prior configuration and puts it back on, hooking the main body of the device over his ear and settling the screen in front of his eye with a fussy little motion.

He shrugs widely, then says, "Gov wanted a Scorpion escort for the bureaucrats, so here we are." In other words, he doesn't think this is a dangerous place, but he is very far away from the guy who makes these kinds of decisions.

So the machine is here. Meaning... Maybe he could see it up close, if he gets on this guy's good side enough. And/or gets him drunk enough. He takes another gulp of his own drink, trying not to make any expression of distaste.

"I see. I've always been interested in technology, despite living out here." Which is... Somewhat true. He has a mixed relationship with technology. He can't show Dev his bionic arm either. "I'd love to see one of those in person."

"Is that so?" Devero looks a little surprised by the admission. "Have you thought about immigrating?"

Devero you can't just ask a guy if he wants to "immigrate" to your global nation, come on man--

From Tox's point of view, Devero may as well be asking him to join a new cult. Not that he thinks of his commune as a cult... Yet. But he has to hide his disdain at the surface man trying to 'recruit' him.

But Sebastian, on the other hand... Tox usually would play this 'character' as averse to such an idea, as well, since that's how many Outsiders feel. But that might not go over well with his new 'friend.'

"Once or twice," he says noncommittally, after a too-long hesitation trying to weigh the right answer. "Maybe I'd get more opportunities to travel to rainforests and the like to study the spiders," his lip quirks up wryly. "But I'm pretty happy with what I do now."

If Devero clocks the hesitation as too long, he doesn't comment on it. His eyebrows do go up when he reads the final answer, obviously a little surprised to meet an Outsider who has considered it.

He also snorts, saying, "You could study all the spiders you want, I'm sure." He can't imagine the field of spider science has so many people clamoring to join it that they wouldn't welcome new blood. But he's not actually here to recruit potential citizens, and he can't help his curiosity about this friendly local and what it's like to actually live-- anywhere outside of Gov. "What is it do you do, then?"

He certainly lowers his voice as he admits to considering leaving his supposed beloved Outsider town.

"Tempting," he mutters with the same little dry smirk, leaning back in his seat and putting his hands in his pockets as he intently watches Devero signing.

"I work on multiple projects. The one I'm focused on here is how the mining affects the nearby ecosystems. Soil and water quality, things like that. Pretty boring, really." He waves a hand. Ah, he is but a humble, rural biologist whose idea of the big leagues is travelling a few towns over to check out some trees. It's almost freeing, this fantasy.

While Sebastian explains, Devero finishes his beer, and waves at the bartender for another.

"Important, though," he acknowledges, before turning to nod his thanks as the new mug is handed down to him. Turning back, he continues blithely, "Your work is probably part of why we're here trading for copper instead of mining our own somewhere else."

A good sign, for his friend to order another, but he hopes he can just drink this one slowly enough not to order another, without being suspicious. Or maybe he could get a mixed drink. That might taste a little better...

"How so? Fewer mines for less degradation, I assume?"

"I think so," Devero says, then leans over exaggeratedly to admit, "but it's not exactly my field." He sits back upright to taste his new drink (which, admittedly, tastes the same as the first one). That would be in line with the values of his government, though, to utilize an existing operation if it's being ethically run and be able to improve the lives of the people actually running it at the same time.

But he's no philosopher, ethical or otherwise. "I'm just here to make sure my scorpion looks real precise in its place in the formations," he adds with a deep chuckle.

Sebastian laughs at the way the techno-voice doesn't lower and stays at pretty much the same cadence even as he's supposed to be stage-whispering. The laugh is sort of a soft hiccup, like it catches him off-guard.

"Well, how responsible of them."

His tone is only a little sarcastic. He has to give the World Gov credit for at least that, he guesses, begrudgingly. They're environmentally conscious, allegedly.

"I'm sure you'll pilot it well." He smiles, then cocks his head. "Pilot? Drive? Use?"

"Jockey," Devero says, smiling back. He swells up a little, cocky, as he continues, "and you're damn right I do. Best in my unit, and that's based on assessments, not just my opinion."

"All right, peacock," Sebastian mutters with a smirk, pushing against his huge shoulder lightly with the back of his hand as though they're army mates. The kind of thing Tox would do with his fellow soldiers, so maybe it's out of place here, as Sebastian the Biologist, but who cares.

"Skills, looks, and confidence. Save some for the rest of us."

Now that one sort of just... Slipped out.

Oh, called out! Devero takes it with good grace, the nudge to his shoulder making him grin with delight.

"I'm only taking up my fair share," he protests, laughing again even as he signs. "I can't help that I need a bigger share than everyone else!"

Tox shakes his head, chuckling under his breath.

"Greedy."

He sips his drink for a moment and watches him sign. It seems like a useful skill.

"Can you teach me one of these words?" He gestures to Devero's hands.

Devero lights right the fuck up, obviously thrilled to have been asked. "Sure!" he says, pivoting on his stool to be facing Sebastian more directly. "Here, copy me." He makes a shape of his two hands together in front of his chest, the forefinger and thumb of one hand forming a semicircle against the extended pointer finger of the other. Then he splays both hands wide open, palms facing, and spreads them away from each other across the width of his chest.

His Interface does not translate this word, not even when he repeats it.

Sebastian complies, copying the movements Devero makes with his hands. Okay, it looks like a P, and then... Something big...

The interface doesn't translate it, nor does Devero.

Sebastian raises a brow.

"You just taught me something obscene, didn't you."

Edited Date: 2025-12-11 06:55 pm (UTC)

Devero laughs, big and unrestrained and so, so loud. "I just taught you my name," he says with a sly grin. He repeats the gesture one more time, and this time, his Interface does translate it: "Devero."

Tox doesn't believe him, until the interface translates.

Devero.

Oh, so it was a D, not a P. It still could be obscene, but he sees now that the 'big' part refers to his overall size.

"Is it intentional that your name could be interpreted as 'big dick?'"

His expression turns absolutely mischievous. "Would you like to find out the answer for yourself?" he asks.

Sebastian breathes out a flustered laugh, turning his head away and shaking it as his face flushes red. Even the glamour he has over himself can't hide it.

"You're somethin' else," he mutters. Which isn't a no, but where he's from, the mere idea of two men sleeping together is scandalous. Blasphemous.

Were he at home, in Gov territory, Devero might have chased that blush. He knows it would be safe to do so. But out here in an Outsider town? He knows a lot of the outsider communities have regressive ideas about gender and sexuality. He may not know if this one specifically has any hangups, but he's not going to put himself-- or the person he'll leave behind when he goes home-- in danger by pursuing something socially unacceptable.

So he sits back on his stool, giving the other man space. He can't help one last flourish-- "That's what they tell me!"-- but then folds his tail down and settles. "So I'm Devero. What's your name?"

He's not sure if Devero was joking or not, and perhaps that's for the best. He might get overwhelmed if it went much further in this moment, in public. He isn't quite sure of this town's views on homosexuality, but he imagines begrudgingly neutral and 'I don't want that in my face,' at best, especially in a dive bar like this one with the macho miner men around them.

"Sebastian." He chances a glance back at Devero, though his face is still a little hot. "What's that one look like?"

The expression on his face has lost its sharp edge, softened down to merely genial. He certainly hadn't been joking, but he's not going to risk leaving Sebastian in a shitty situation-- or scaring him off entirely-- if this is one of those 'traditional' kind of towns.

"Like this," he says, and fingerspells it out. There's one motion for every letter of Sebastian's name, unlike Devero's much briefer appellation, and he makes them distinctly, pausing between each. "It's nice to meet you, Sebastian." (This time when he spells it, it's much faster, the signs flowing one into the other quick as he can make them.)

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and white men who kill god

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