Judge Rico Dredd (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
truefaceofthelaw) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
legionworld2017-07-06 03:20 pm
truefaceofthelaw) wrote in legionworld2017-07-06 03:20 pm
[OPEN] Getting to grips
Who| Rico Dredd, and anyone!
What| Rico's getting adjusted. Discovering sugar and telling people to move out of his way.
Where| Mess Hall, Observation Deck
When| Before Bodies for Rent
Warnings/Notes| Rico's an asshole. Warning for violence, fighting, blood, threats of bodily harm, and treating sugar like an addictive substance (i.e. drug talk). Will match formats.
[A: Mess Hall]
[It had taken a long time for Rico to get adjusted to his new surroundings. After the expected violent outburst after waking up, he was upset. Not because he was just faced with the knowledge that his entire universe was in danger, that Mega-City One was in danger. No. It was more that he was yanked out of his world by the scruff of his neck, and had a lot of schemes he'd spent time and effort setting up. A lot of fingers in a lot of different pies whose outcomes he was just waiting to realize.]
[But Hell, the only saving grace is that at least he might just get a kick out of all this. So he took the oath, if only for them to get off his back about it. Time would tell whether he felt like following it or not. But for now? The Mess Hall would be where he could get a feel for the social dynamics that run through this place. And he'll be damned if Rico Dredd never comes out on top. And he's hardly going to let a little thing like being dropped into a completely unfamiliar environment alone and without backup hold him back.]
[He strides into the mess hall with a natural arrogance, a swagger to his step that could be mistaken for confidence. Of course, with how packed it is, and how he isn't making any attempt to move out of anybody's way - fully expecting them to move for him - somebody might accidentally jostle him and his rather bulky and pointy eagle-shaped shoulder pad. If that happens?]
Hey!
[He barks out sharply in a gravel rough voice, in a tone that demands immediate attention. He cocks his head to the side, overhead lighting reflecting a glint off his black visor where his eyes should be. He crooks a finger, beckoning them to come closer as his mouth twitches up in the beginnings of a smile.]
You gonna apologize for that?
[B: Mess Hall]
[Rico is sitting at a table with his back to the wall, with a baton kept loosely in his lap, staring at an unopened packet of sugar in the palm of his hand. He knew that The Legion had different practices, different laws but this was really something else. He tears the packet open with delicately pinched fingers, spilling the white crystals onto the table, and sniffs. He takes off a glove, dips his finger in the pile, brings it up to his face for careful scrutiny, then licks it.]
Oh, what the drokk? [He murmurs under his breath as he pulls back, confusion and tentative excitement mixing in his voice.] They can't be serious.
[He starts picking up more packets, one by one, and ripping them all open. Soon, there's a veritable pile of sugar on the table. But if someone were to come a little later and perhaps want a sugar for their coffee or tea this morning...? Well too bad. It's all been confiscated. If you reach out for one, expect to be impeded by a black baton.]
Sorry. [He doesn't sound very sorry at all. Actually, he almost sounds a little gleeful. He's well aware he has very little authority here, but that's not going to stop him from pretending that he does. Also, he might have slipped a packet or two into his own pockets.] Restricted substances. Mind your own business and move along.
[C: Observation Deck]
[The Observation Deck. Rico leans forward against a railing, looking down at the view. It's mostly empty for now, and he enjoys the rare peace. No shouting citizens, no endless, pointless chatter, or explosions. He's been a Mega-City boy all his life, never been to space, and despite his best efforts not to be impressed, it still captures his attention like nothing else.]
[Rico feels the prickle of a stare bouncing off the back of his helmet, and working on an instinct that every Street Judge has - or at least, the ones that aren't dumb as dirt and still alive - he fingers the baton by his side and says out loud without turning around;]
You looking at me, creep?
[D: Wildcard option!]
What| Rico's getting adjusted. Discovering sugar and telling people to move out of his way.
Where| Mess Hall, Observation Deck
When| Before Bodies for Rent
Warnings/Notes| Rico's an asshole. Warning for violence, fighting, blood, threats of bodily harm, and treating sugar like an addictive substance (i.e. drug talk). Will match formats.
[A: Mess Hall]
[It had taken a long time for Rico to get adjusted to his new surroundings. After the expected violent outburst after waking up, he was upset. Not because he was just faced with the knowledge that his entire universe was in danger, that Mega-City One was in danger. No. It was more that he was yanked out of his world by the scruff of his neck, and had a lot of schemes he'd spent time and effort setting up. A lot of fingers in a lot of different pies whose outcomes he was just waiting to realize.]
[But Hell, the only saving grace is that at least he might just get a kick out of all this. So he took the oath, if only for them to get off his back about it. Time would tell whether he felt like following it or not. But for now? The Mess Hall would be where he could get a feel for the social dynamics that run through this place. And he'll be damned if Rico Dredd never comes out on top. And he's hardly going to let a little thing like being dropped into a completely unfamiliar environment alone and without backup hold him back.]
[He strides into the mess hall with a natural arrogance, a swagger to his step that could be mistaken for confidence. Of course, with how packed it is, and how he isn't making any attempt to move out of anybody's way - fully expecting them to move for him - somebody might accidentally jostle him and his rather bulky and pointy eagle-shaped shoulder pad. If that happens?]
Hey!
[He barks out sharply in a gravel rough voice, in a tone that demands immediate attention. He cocks his head to the side, overhead lighting reflecting a glint off his black visor where his eyes should be. He crooks a finger, beckoning them to come closer as his mouth twitches up in the beginnings of a smile.]
You gonna apologize for that?
[B: Mess Hall]
[Rico is sitting at a table with his back to the wall, with a baton kept loosely in his lap, staring at an unopened packet of sugar in the palm of his hand. He knew that The Legion had different practices, different laws but this was really something else. He tears the packet open with delicately pinched fingers, spilling the white crystals onto the table, and sniffs. He takes off a glove, dips his finger in the pile, brings it up to his face for careful scrutiny, then licks it.]
Oh, what the drokk? [He murmurs under his breath as he pulls back, confusion and tentative excitement mixing in his voice.] They can't be serious.
[He starts picking up more packets, one by one, and ripping them all open. Soon, there's a veritable pile of sugar on the table. But if someone were to come a little later and perhaps want a sugar for their coffee or tea this morning...? Well too bad. It's all been confiscated. If you reach out for one, expect to be impeded by a black baton.]
Sorry. [He doesn't sound very sorry at all. Actually, he almost sounds a little gleeful. He's well aware he has very little authority here, but that's not going to stop him from pretending that he does. Also, he might have slipped a packet or two into his own pockets.] Restricted substances. Mind your own business and move along.
[C: Observation Deck]
[The Observation Deck. Rico leans forward against a railing, looking down at the view. It's mostly empty for now, and he enjoys the rare peace. No shouting citizens, no endless, pointless chatter, or explosions. He's been a Mega-City boy all his life, never been to space, and despite his best efforts not to be impressed, it still captures his attention like nothing else.]
[Rico feels the prickle of a stare bouncing off the back of his helmet, and working on an instinct that every Street Judge has - or at least, the ones that aren't dumb as dirt and still alive - he fingers the baton by his side and says out loud without turning around;]
You looking at me, creep?
[D: Wildcard option!]
no subject
[Cortana does like America, despite America's deep-seated killjoy tendencies, and this guy is America's colleague twice over. Maybe she can spare everyone yet another tedious shouting match over the network. Or maybe not--some people need to touch a live wire a few times to realize electric current hurts like hell. Far be it from her to meddle in the learning process, at least when it doesn't inconvenience her personally.]
And "AI" is more accurate than "droid."
[Getting to the important part, as far as she's concerned.]
no subject
Do I sound like a killjoy? [Rico asks, only the hint of a snarl playing at his lips.] Look at me! Am I shaking down somebody for their sugar stash? Am I in the backroom with my fist in somebody's face, demanding answers?
[He gestures dramatically to himself, sweeping a hand over the mess hall. His tone is still somewhat playful, but it seems to be barely constrained by a fierce, seething attitude.]
Here I am, palling around with my new co-workers to be, and all the worst anybody got was a rap on the knuckles! I'm a grud-damned angel of mercy!
no subject
[She sighs, a theatrical gesture from someone who doesn't need to breathe.]
Look, you're trained to assess a situation before going in, right? So stop and assess the one you're in now. Are your ordinary tactics having the effect you want?
[Eternally pragmatic, Cortana thinks from her exposure to America that reason will work. As much as she'd enjoy seeing one of their enhanced physique teammates break his jaw, that seems unlikely to produce a long-term solution.]
no subject
I'm glad you understand me. I'm nothing like the others.
[But Cortana's question makes him pause. And not just because he hasn't been talked down to like that since the academy. Actually, what did he even want to do? Supply was plentiful. The second he stepped away, it'd be available again. And it'd be here again tomorrow, so Rico had no reason to covet it for himself either. He supposed habit, really. He was playing a part, but that part was no fun anymore. Not with this AI who refused to play along.]
Not particularly. For one thing, I can't confiscate this all by myself! [Rico masks his confusion with a grin and tilts his head, like a curious velociraptor.] Then what would you suggest, AI?