CRAWLIN' BACK TO YOU — intro, open

[NIGEL B.]

[color=transparent]u rock !

[align=center]NIGEL BOLIDE [abbr=claire made this!]―[/abbr]

There was multiple things Nigel hated about Vice World. The most important thing, of course, was the prick that ran it. Magnus was not a nice man, he never had been. There was an anger in that man that Nigel just couldn't figure out. It was something that was so deep, it would take a billion people to pry him open and find it. Like an oyster, keeping its pearl.

Except, Nigel didn't want the pearl. Not for himself, of course. The only thing he wanted that pearl for, was against Magnus. He wanted to expose him. To rip his shell open and let others admire that thing that made him the evil man he was now. Except, there was only so much that Nigel, a man who literally worked as a mechanic, could do. If he even so much as muttered a bad word about Magnus, he would be put on the spot, stripped of his belongings, and shamed in front of thousands of people.

The mechanic didn't like that, either. He continued to work, scowling as he narrowed those brilliant blue eyes. Magnus had constantly told him how pretty he thought they were, constantly told him--you should be on the cover of magazines. On posters, everywhere!--before instantly turning it against him. You'd be so pretty, if it weren't for those ugly freckles. That nasty scar. What a shame. Nigel wanted to strangle Magnus.

Instead, he worked, constantly shifting between tools on his rather heavy belt that struggled to stay on those thin hips, keeping his anger to himself. Rogue, his dog, laid at his feet as he worked, barely moving every time he'd make a noise. Be it a screw or a nut falling to the ground, a tool scraping, or just him exhaling incredibly loudly, Rogue's ears would just slightly tilt.

[robbie.]

[align=center][div style="padding-right:20px;"][gfont=Sedgwick Ave Display][glow=#a68a71,2,300]ROBIN "ROBBIE" CHAI[/glow][/gfont]

[gfont=Amiri]"speech." — thought. — attack. — normal.

[gfont=Amiri]    Robbie thought of xerself as a creature of spontaneity—xe moved on a basis of what xe wanted and where xe wanted it. Of course, not every place was open to this sort of action; about ninety-nine percent of communities xe'd seen throughout xis life were built upon strict rules meant to be enforced upon all, with severe punishment clapped upon those who disobeyed. Vice World had its rules too, and its own ruler, but it somehow felt right for Robbie to be here, at least for now. Like, sure, xe couldn't hurt any "tourists", or disobey what the Big Boss said xe had to do (lame), but those weirdos in Titanpark could still toss around whatever mutts they had. The high-brow stiff-collars in Astralland could still pretend like they were better than everyone else.

    And, of course, the uncontrollable slashers that Robbie was so fond of could make trouble as they pleased, so long as they didn't get too big for their britches.

    Despite how wild the various groups of this community got, xe never saw the Overboss have to panic to get them all under control, among the slivers of times xe'd got a peek at him. He didn't seem friendly and certainly didn't seem like to type to react well to pranks (not by a long shot, which was probably one of the reasons why Robbie didn't try to sneak a handful of sand down his shirt to point and laugh at how he'd squirm... yet. Not even the threat of punishment could dissuade xer from being a whimsical little nuisance), but he also was undoubtedly the ruler around here. There was no big enough competition around that xe could see, after all. He was... absolute, to say the least. Definitely not someone that would go down easily.

    But, well, Mr. Overboss wasn't here to stare at xer right now and xe had a hankering to bother someone until they got annoyed enough to chase xer down with a broom, so xe wandered aimlessly through the area, humming softly under xis breath and tossing a mannequin head up and down in the air, trailing xis amber gaze this way and that. Xis eyes zapped immediately to a dog on the ground, eyebrows raising with curiosity before flicking xis attention to the person working near it, tottering the plastic head between xis hands in thought before walking squarely (and loudly) to the mechanic. As xe spoke, xis accent warped some words and lilted others, though xis tone was still undeniably and overly casual, [color=#dbc0ad]"Is that your dog?"

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[NIGEL B.]

[color=transparent]u rock !

[align=center]NIGEL BOLIDE [abbr=claire made this!]―[/abbr]

Nigel, undoubtfully, wanted nothing to do with Magnus. Ever. If he could, he'd run for the hills, but he knew full well that Magnus would send a dozen or more of his nasty little creatures after him, human and dog alike. After all, Nigel was one of the only people here in Vice World who knew how to fix things. The wide belt across his slim hips was more than enough evidence of that, hardly staying on as the dusty blue jumper seemed much too saggy and large for the thin man. He wasn't short, however--the only jumpsuit that would fit him was this incredibly large one. He kept his sleeves rolled up, but they fell down eventually, getting in his way and making him roll them back up.

Rogue lifted her head at the sound of footsteps approaching. The Rottweiler bared her teeth briefly before looking up at Nigel, awaiting his instructions. She was very protective of the man, after finding him severely injured. Nigel dropped his wrench and swung around in shock, seeming to not have heard Robbie approach. He looked xer up and down for a moment before nodding, those brilliant ice blues catching every small detail of xer, like he was either sizing xer up, trying to see if xey were a threat, or had just witnessed xer murder somebody and was trying to take in all of xer detail to report it.

Report it to who, exactly, he didn't know. If he ran crying--as he couldn't scream, the vicious scar across his throat was proof of that--to the people in the trading center, either none of them would believe him, would shove him off, or would send him right to Magnus--and Magnus, Nigel feared what he may do. He had heard his speeches, the constant reminders of what Vice World was, and what it would always be. A vicious reminder. Nigel hated Magnus.

Rogue stood up, and Nigel snapped out of his thoughts, glancing down at her. She had his wrench in her slobbery mouth, giving it back to him. He plucked it out of her jaws and scratched her head, to which Rogue bared her teeth and rumbled. Her tail, or lack there of, wiggled in content before she turned to glance back at the newcomer. Nigel nodded again, pointing the wrench to Rogue before pointing back at himself. He made a face before turning the wrench to the scar across his throat, then mouthing gibberish.

He could not speak, for he had no voice.

[robbie.]

[align=center][div style="padding-right:20px;"][gfont=Sedgwick Ave Display][glow=#a68a71,2,300]ROBIN "ROBBIE" CHAI[/glow][/gfont]

[gfont=Amiri]"speech." — thought. — attack. — normal.

[gfont=Amiri]    Robbie wasn't a fixer—xe had the capacity to do so, with xis brain full of half-fantastical ideas and the knowledge required to make them reality, but xe spent more time breaking things than fixing them. Creation and mending weren't nearly as fun as destruction (why spend time putting things back together when you could blow a teacup ride apart with some homemade C-4?), but xe could see that the skills were valuable, making the greasemonkey-looking fellow in front of xer a rare commodity.

    Xe flashed xis own teeth at the dog in a smile, friendly rather than threatening even in the face of a possible bite to the face. Xe'd always loved animals of all kinds, landing xer into trouble with Ferals and their activities more than once, but xe had a little hope in xis heart that this pup would like xer well enough... or, at the very least, not tear xis arm off. Even if the rottweiler attacked, though, xe would still probably love the dog to death.

    Robbie stopped in xis tracks at his startled reaction, turning xis grin to him. [color=#dbc0ad]"Howdy," xe spoke once more, the word sounding odd with the somewhat-French lilt. "Sorry for startling you."

    (...Perhaps xe wasn't truly apologetic, though. It was just a tiny bit fun to elicit such a reaction from someone.)

    Xe nodded vehemently back at him, freely letting xerself be examined by him, flicking xis gaze over him in turn. He was much taller than xe was, with the bluest eyes xe'd ever seen, and tilted xis head at that. Did he manage to find colored contact lenses, or something like that? Xe'd have to ask him where he got his supply, if that was the case.

    Noticing his silent movements, xe quietly processed his message, mulling over it for a half-second before a proverbial lightbulb lit up behind xis eyes. "Ah, you're not really a talker, huh? I gotcha. D'you use your hands to talk, or paper, or just..." xe let xerself trail off, shifting the mannequin head to a crook in xis armpit and gesturing vaguely in the air with xis free hand. Then, xe abruptly pointed to the dog again. "And can I pet your dog? Please?"

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