Krok (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dadcepticon) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
rekindleme2015-02-11 07:47 pm
dadcepticon) wrote in rekindleme2015-02-11 07:47 pm
We're gonna do what we do best.
Who: Krok and YOU! Yes, you! Seriously anybody is welcome. Come bug Captain Mopey!
Where: Shopping district!
When: Slight backdate to 10 February, mid-morning/noonish.
Summary: Krok needs something to fill up the much too quiet apartment he's too reluctant to abandon. Time to look for music and movies!
Warnings: Nnnnothing really?
Life has been very quiet in recent weeks. None of the chatter or mayhem that Krok simply took for granted. No being woken at all hours by Misfire with something to tell him, no conversations with Fulcrum, no laughter or jokes or arguments. Just silence and an oppressive sense of melancholy as he looks at empty bedrooms.
He hates it.
He doesn't want to give up the apartment if he can help it; what if they come back? They might, he thinks. It's a possibility, at least. Even if a very distant one. Enough of a chance that he can't ignore it, certainly – but he can't take the emptiness of it any more. It's maddening. He's upset over the absences; Spinister is upset and it's impossible to console the big helicopter when Krok himself can't seem to shake off the unhappiness. Something has to change, he decides, even if it isn't their quarters. So, steeling himself against the likelihood of too much good cheer from potentially all quarters – he needs to not wallow, yes, but there's only so much effervescence and warmth Krok can manage right now – the weary scavenger captain takes himself to the shopping district on a mission.
There must be some sort of recordings he can buy. Anything, he thinks, just to have the noise. Just to fill in the gaps where there should be friendly voices. Vids, music, he doesn't care what it is so long as it makes sounds. He squints at the signs and displays around him and peers into the shops as he slows his stride, debating where to even start. Krok's had so little use for this entire end of the city that he finds himself at something of a loss for direction, staring at the options available and all but broadcasting his usual exasperation every which way as he pauses in the middle of the concourse.
"I must be going out of my mind," he mumbles to himself while looking right to left and back again. There's a place a little further along that seems to sell electronic devices, he guesses by their window displays. It's as good a place to start as any.
Where: Shopping district!
When: Slight backdate to 10 February, mid-morning/noonish.
Summary: Krok needs something to fill up the much too quiet apartment he's too reluctant to abandon. Time to look for music and movies!
Warnings: Nnnnothing really?
Life has been very quiet in recent weeks. None of the chatter or mayhem that Krok simply took for granted. No being woken at all hours by Misfire with something to tell him, no conversations with Fulcrum, no laughter or jokes or arguments. Just silence and an oppressive sense of melancholy as he looks at empty bedrooms.
He hates it.
He doesn't want to give up the apartment if he can help it; what if they come back? They might, he thinks. It's a possibility, at least. Even if a very distant one. Enough of a chance that he can't ignore it, certainly – but he can't take the emptiness of it any more. It's maddening. He's upset over the absences; Spinister is upset and it's impossible to console the big helicopter when Krok himself can't seem to shake off the unhappiness. Something has to change, he decides, even if it isn't their quarters. So, steeling himself against the likelihood of too much good cheer from potentially all quarters – he needs to not wallow, yes, but there's only so much effervescence and warmth Krok can manage right now – the weary scavenger captain takes himself to the shopping district on a mission.
There must be some sort of recordings he can buy. Anything, he thinks, just to have the noise. Just to fill in the gaps where there should be friendly voices. Vids, music, he doesn't care what it is so long as it makes sounds. He squints at the signs and displays around him and peers into the shops as he slows his stride, debating where to even start. Krok's had so little use for this entire end of the city that he finds himself at something of a loss for direction, staring at the options available and all but broadcasting his usual exasperation every which way as he pauses in the middle of the concourse.
"I must be going out of my mind," he mumbles to himself while looking right to left and back again. There's a place a little further along that seems to sell electronic devices, he guesses by their window displays. It's as good a place to start as any.
no subject
The boy goes to the door and starts trying to get it open. Sadly, it is either too heavy or is sticking somewhere, because as much as the boy tries, he can't get it open. Finally, he looks back at Krok, his expression a little embarrassed, "Krok, can you get the door for me? I am just too little to do it. I had to have someone open it for me before. I remember now!"
no subject
"Hm?" He snaps back from his wandering thoughts and has to rifle through his audio buffers to replay Diarmuid's question. Then he blinks, comprehending. "Oh! Yes, of course," he says and leans in. He gives the door a light tug and it opens with a peal from the bell attached to the frame overhead. He smiles down at Diarmuid and gives him a little bow from the waist, arm across his middle. "You're the expert here," he murmurs. "I'll follow your lead." Though he's already eyeing the interior from the corners of his optics.
It doesn't take long to realise that being able to read what they have to offer means nothing without context. Looks like he'll be listening to more than one disc on this trip.
no subject
"Thank you!" Diarmuid bows in return and then dashes into the store. He stops in front of one display and looks at it for a few moments, trying to read what it says. "R-o-c-k. That spells 'Rock!' Do you like loud music? Loud and fast? Or..." Before even waiting for Krok's response, Diarmuid runs over to a different display. This one says 'Folk.'
"I like the music here! It reminds me of some of the music from home. There are guitars, pipes, and things like that. Drums! Oh yes, drums too. Or there is..." he starts to run to another display and then stops to look back at Krok, "Maybe you should tell me what you like first..."
This might take a long time otherwise...