#onewillemdollars : 01

[irvinnie]

@onewillemdollars

Irving has never owned a cellular device before, but if it's anything like the computer at his workstation - anything like the phone that Milchick got to walk around with, back in the other branch - then it stands to reason that this, too, is intended for work use only. While he's not sure how he feels about that - he'd very much like to use it to attempt to make contact with the others - he's willing enough to lie low for the time being and therefore leaves it be. It's useful enough to observe, he supposes. There's a feed of messages, constantly updating, and one can only assume they're coming from the other... workers? Test subjects? Whatever they are. The purpose of it, he's got to figure, is inter-department communication. So that's nice.

But evidently not all of them share the sentiment that these things are best kept professional. After the sixteenth nearly-identical image in a row of some brunette man with a shirt that's most definitely far out of any company's dress code pops up, he finally figures he ought to at least somehow attempt to dissuade it.

[ IrvingB ] -> Excuse me, but are you aware that your images are being sent to my mobile phone? [ IrvingB ] -> And everyone else's, for that matter? [ IrvingB ] -> I'm certain you've a private server you could be uploading these to.

Was that too harsh? He gives it some thought before sending another.

[ IrvingB ] -> Excellent grasp of lighting.

[gospinego]

@onewillemdollars liked for a starter !

JUST ABOUT THE ONLY THING THE SPINE COULD DO HERE was walk around aimlessly. They had taken his guitar , so he couldn't do the one thing he was programmed to do. Without being able to perform , he was left . . well , restless , he supposed. So he had taken to exploring the place - which led him to Sunset's End. And good god , he wished this was the place he had ended up in. The sight of a vast desert with sand sprawling far and wide was better than he ever could have imagined.

HIS EXPLORATION LED HIM TO THE SKYLINE SALOON , which looked like it came right out of one of his favorite Westerns. As he walked into the place ( awkwardly bending over to fit through the doorway ) the first thing he noticed was everyone's heads turning to stare at him. It wasn't something out of the usual , being a Robot and all. A hand stiffly raised to tip his hat , and he moved to the unoccupied end of the bar.

THE BAR STOOL WAS A BIT TOO SHORT FOR HIM , but he supposed that sitting down would make him look a little less imposing. As he gave his order to the bartender , just a water - thank you , he noticed a man slide onto one of the empty stools next to him. Gears whirred as he turned himself slightly to get a better look at the man , before turning his head to look at the bar around them. While most of the strangers had turned their gazes away from him again , a few lingering stares remained. ❛ Let me guess. You came to tell me to leave ? ❜

[herralbrich]

@onewillemdollars liked for a starter!

HIS JOURNEY TO EXPLORE EVERY INCH of New Yesteryear had brought him to the border between Glacier’s Peak and Sunset’s End. Now , Anton wasn’t going to complain about the resort itself ── the water was clear , the people were nice enough ; but he couldn’t stand the heat. Not only was the sun blazing down hot enough to melt him where he stood , he somehow kicked the sand up all the way into his boots.

PERHAPS WEARING ALMOST ALL BLACK to the beach wasn’t the wisest decision , either. It didn’t take long for him to take off his boots and socks , only to almost squeal at the heat of the sand on his feet. He sprinted to the water , holding his boots as the waves crashed against his ankles.

❛ ZIS VAS A HORRIBLE IDEA. ❜ He said to no one in particular , looking back from where he came. He had a long walk back to the safety of cobbled paths ── and he could already feel the sweat making his hair stick to the back of his neck.

[guiltmotif]

@onewillemdollars

Nick's dead-set on catching the first train out of here the second he steps out of the building he'd landed in.

(Not at all happily and hardly voluntarily, mind you, but he felt inclined to be the bigger person and walk out before he was driven to strangle his weird little kidnapper.)

Train to where, exactly, he's not sure. He's got a house key, though whether that's actually worth trusting is... debatable, at best, and god if he knows where the house even is. It's almost certainly too much to hope that they'd just drop him off back in Georgia, or, better still, somewhere even further away. Iowa, or something. He could be a halfway-decent farmer, he's always thought. But the whole long-term life planning thing has kind of gone up in smoke as of late.

Doesn't take too long to find a train station, in any case. It's not getting there that's the problem. No, the problem is that he can't step into the place because there's some fucking idiot standing in the doorway taking selfies.

One would be irritating. Two, excessive. But Nicholas genuinely stands here for at least half a minute watching the guy take several dozen selfies at the exact same angle, making the exact same dumbass expression, before he finally reckons that some people really are this unbelievable and raises his voice.

"Any day now."

[memoryzones]

@onewillemdollars liked for a starter !

He's sort of just been.. standing here for a while. It's all so overwhelming; he's not even sure how he should get places - everywhere's so huge in comparison to the office. He has a goal, at least - get to Glacier's Peak, find where his key goes, and.. figure out what needs to be done from there. A deep inhale is given - the idea of approaching someone, speaking to them and having them see him, acknowledging that this is real, this is what he is now, is terrifying. But he can't just stay here forever. Slowly, he picks a figure out from the crowd - there. Brown haired, confident stride; the picture of someone who knows what he's doing. He approaches, clears his throat behind him, and asks -

"Um - excuse me - would you know how to get to... Glaciers Peak? Equinox Avenue.....?"

[gospinego]

THE SPINE FOLLOWS HIS GAZE FOR A MOMENT , trying his best to keep his face covered by his hat. At the extremely subtle jab at the prying eyes , he straightens up slightly on his bar stool , shoulders locking in place with a ch - chunk. ❛ You're quite the bold fella , aren't ya' ? ❜ He prefers conflict resolution via not starting conflict in the first place. And yet , here the stranger is , vaguely scolding the other patrons in the place like they're kids.

A LAWLESS LAND , HUH ? THIS REALLY IS LIKE the Westerns he liked so much. Now that he was experiencing it firsthand , though . . he's not so sure he liked living it. Maybe it would be better if he was , you know , about three feet shorter. And made of flesh. He blinks a few times , head jerking to the side for a split second , trying to physically shake the thought from his head. It doesn't work. ❛ Ah , that's alright. It doesn't really bother me much. I'm used to it. ❜ His head tilts down as he feels pressure on his leg. That's . . nice. Humans do that all the time - they're big on physical contact and the like. ❛ There's a reason why we weren't allowed to go out by ourselves. Us Robots aren't exactly a welcome sight most of the time. ❜ Still didn't stop any of the others from sneaking out of the Manor , though.

AT THE QUESTION , HIS EYEBROWS FURROW IN CONFUSION. ❛ That's . . that's just my face. ❜ He wasn't all too sure what the stranger was talking about , until he noticed him zeroing in on the vents located on his cheeks. ❛ It does that. ❜ The compliment makes his optics widen , and there's a c - c - click as his arm twists to point at himself : as if to ask " my face ? " He quickly clears his throat , however , and his head shakes slightly. He tries to ignore the hissing that sounds as even more steam exits his vents. ❛ I mean , yeah , I'm totally handsome. ❜ But that doesn't answer the question , does it ? The Spine hesitates momentarily , gaze flicking down to the hands that hover right next to his face. ❛ . . Yeah , I don't see why not. Just be careful. It can , uh , get a little hot. ❜

will not so sneakily looks around, hoping to meet the mal-intentioned stares mentioned in the other's comment. he does meet someone's eyes, making a point to speak louder as he replies, " well, maybe they can go screw 'emselves, how about that? "

.. there's also a sliiiiight chance the random man gazing into their backs has nothing to do with what is being spoken about, but you know. still, whatever the bystander's reaction is, will doesn't care to see it and turns instead back to his drink.

" don't worry 'bout it. if it crossed your mind, it's probably because it was justified to assume that. this is sort of a lawless place, you know. sure, there are consequences to killin' others, but anything before that? i can't blame you for expecting it, sadly. " will pats the stranger's thigh closest to him in a reassuring manner. the hand raises, wraps around his glass, leads him to take a sip. " better safe than sorry, and all that. "

elbow on the counter and his head propped up by it, will almost misses the smoke that escapes metallic cheeks, having to lean back further to see it. initially, he assumes it's a display of anger, a visual representation of the man's boiling point - but he hasn't said anything too upsetting, right?

" uhhhhh, you alright? " a boot settling on the footrest of the counter, will uses it as leverage to stand taller and get a closer look at the vents. " you've got a little something on your face. "

his hand lifts, ghosts the entrance of the slits, feels the warm air permeate from them. " well, then - as your companion, may i touch your beautiful face? "

[herralbrich]

THE SAND IS HOT. THE SUN IS HOTTER. He doesn't dare put his boots down for fear of more sand getting into them ; or , god forbid , they get wet. He feels miserable , but he's having a great time. That's what it's trying to convince itself of as one of the other beach - goers calls out at it. Maybe taking off his over shirt would do him some good , but then he'd have to carry that , too. The sight of the sand caked on his boots is already bad enough , imagine if he dropped his shirt too. He didn't want to risk it.

IT WAS FAR TOO DISTRACTED WITH THE HORROR of getting sand in every bit of it's clothing that he didn't notice the other man staring at him. It wasn't until he was spoken to that he turned his attention towards the other beach - goer ( who was obviously far more prepared for this than Anton was ) , the wind whipping his hair back in his face.

A HAND RAISES TO PUSH BLONDE LOCKS out of his face , sputtering as he does. How in the hell did sand get in his hair ?! Once he gathers himself as best as he can being completely out of his element , he just lets out a defeated sigh.

❛ I AM AFRAID I DID NOT DO MY PROPER RESEARCH. ❜ And he called himself a scientist. He didn't even know what a beach was before he got here. Would it have done him some good to , you know , ask someone before he came ? Maybe. But he's here now , and he is trying his damnedest to have a good time. ❛ No , they are not. But I vas not aware it would be so . . sandy. Or hot. Especially when it is so cold not so far from here. ❜ That is something he still hasn't been able to wrap his mind around. Glacier's Peak isn't even an hour from where he stands , and yet the weather is so horribly different.

will is the stranger's ironic parallel, his get-up the direct opposite of the man's. in fact, that's what beckons his attention to the booted figure, his outfit a tell-tale sign of a restaurant reservation, perhaps, but mismatching the beach. the writer is close to showing skin everywhere the other doesn't, his only shield of modesty the swim briefs he wears that most closely resemble a thong than anything else.

hopefully, he hasn't noticed will eyeing him, trying to figure out if its busy enough that introducing himself to it right now would earn him stared daggers. it says something - the wind characteristic to the beach is just loud enough for him to not be able to pick it up, but it's opportunity enough for a meeting.

" you think so? " will calls out from the beach towel he's sat on, the glasses resting on the nose of his bridge raising to reveal amused irises. " but the water's so nice, darling! what makes you regret coming to the beach, hm? "

his gaze darts to the discarded boots he carries. " let me guess, those are not supposed to be gray? "

[irvinnie]

He squints. It's an onslaught of mixed messages and how on earth did he get a picture of a flower into so small a space.

[ IrvingB ] -> What? No. [ IrvingB ] -> No, of course I don't want to fight. Did you think I wanted to fight? I'm sorry, I knew it would come across as needlessly confrontational. Condescending, even. [ IrvingB ] -> I was just informing you. In the event you weren't aware. [ IrvingB ] -> But it sounds like you are, so carry on if you wish.

Privately he still thinks it's a little annoying. Obstructive to reading any actually useful messages. But of course one must find avenues of self expression wherever they can, in times such as these.

Rather than point out that the man has no possible way to make any sort of judgment call on Irving's own appearance ( gorgeous or otherwise ) when he almost certainly hasn't seen him - unless he has, lending credence to Irving's assumption that they're all being remotely observed - he instead answers his question.

[ IrvingB ] -> Do you want an earnest critique?

in some capacity, they share a similar connection to these cellular devices: will yields from a time preceding most modern inventions, an era where their predecessors were being invented instead. in place of lightbulbs, he had torches ; in place of the germ theory, he had not knowing what it was ; in place of letters, now, he has the magical phone pointed at his bathroom mirror.

he's unsure of how it works. he assumes it quickly sketches his visage in that metal box and then paints it just as fast before sending a thousand copies to everyone. truly, a miracle of a tool: it means everyone gets to see him now.

.. so why is he being met with confusion.

[ hotgirl69 ] -> I'm aware, yeah [ hotgirl69 ] -> That's the intention, darling 🌹 [ hotgirl69 ] -> Besides, what's wrong with a handsome guy showing you images of himself? [ hotgirl69 ] -> You wanna fight? [ hotgirl69 ] -> Huh? Hm?

of course, no real intention lies behind the written words - he's suffered more attacks to his ego through casual reviews of his works than he suspects the unknown user could give him. does that dissuade him into bothering the stranger less? well ..

[ hotgirl69 ] -> Oh. Um [ hotgirl69 ] -> Thank you!

then, more tentatively:

[ hotgirl69 ] -> Like what you see, gorgeous?

[gospinego]

THE LAST THING THE SPINE WANTED TO DO was to draw attention to himself. Any other time , perhaps , when he had a guitar in his hand and the band by his side. But now ? He already sticks out like a sore thumb , so it’s best to just keep his head low for a while. Metaphorically speaking. He had to admit , he did kind of feel like a cowboy. Just . . more like the outlaw with a bounty on his head than the cool , sharpshooting hero.

TWO GLASSES ARE SET SIDE BY SIDE : one , he assumes , belonging to the gentleman that had quietly joined him. Silence hangs above the two , cut only by the distant chatter of the bar’s other patrons. It isn’t until The Spine takes his first sip of water that he breaks it , preparing himself to be told to get outta here.

BEING ASKED TO STAY WAS NOT WHAT HE WAS EXPECTING. He watches the man as he gets a better look at him ── eyebrows raising momentarily as their eyes meet. With whirring gears , he grabs the brim of his hat and pulls it a little lower. He then moves his attention back to his glass of water , before raising it up to his lips to take a swig. ❛ Sorry for the assumption , but , not many of the other fellas in here looked like they shared that sentiment. Nice as it is. ❜

THE SPINE CHUCKLES LOWLY , a hand gesturing to the glass of water. The prior comment , as soft as it is , almost goes unheard. He’s gotten that a few times before ─ the only response is a faint trail of steam coming from the vents in his cheeks. ❛ If you consider water a nice drink , then sure. As much as I’d love to partake in anything else , unfortunately that’s all I can drink. ❜ Alas , such are the woes of being synthetic. ❛ As for company , I wasn’t expecting it ── but if you’re offering . . ❜

although the visage of metal-made people is quite common to him now - there's an entire faction in which androids and other robots live, after all - he can't say he recognises the stranger that awkwardly waddles into the saloon. he's got the height to positively intimidate anyone around him if he so desired, yet he's just .. sitting there, like some guy. if will was as tall as him ( not that there's much difference between their statures, anyways .. ), he'd be using it to put people in their place with a sole look, or i don't know, seduce people.

still, even in his normalness, the steel man catches will's stare - and, by extension, his interest. that's why he approaches the stranger, sits beside him: because even if he is the tallest in the room, the light still catches oddly under the brim of his hat, hides away his eyes.

of course, he doesn't strike conversation right away ( what is he, desperate? ). will allows it to simmer, to be filled instead by their orders - a glass of water and a contrasting one of whiskey. if anything, it surprises him when the air they share isn't occupied by his own voice first, the electricity-underlined one beating him to the punch with an unexpected question.

" hm? oh, god, no. " will's eyes dart, from where they focus on the counter, to the man - up, up, until two dots of green cut through the darkness under his hat. " in fact, quite the opposite, darling! i was gonna ask you to stay. "

then, under his breath, " god, you're huge. "

his hand balls into a fist, is pressed against his mouth as he coughs. " sooooo .. what brings you here? looking for company? a nice drink? "

[guiltmotif]

"Uh, yeah, I just did." He's met with only a level Look from an unimpressed Nick when he turns around. Sincerely startled or not, clearly the shock wasn't all that bad or the guy might've taken more than, what, half a second before getting right back to his... whatever the hell it is he's doing. And, give him some credit, Nick actually musters up the patience to watch for the duration of at least thirty more photos ( not that it takes the dude that long to rack those numbers up ) trying to figure out any rhyme or reason for needing that fucking many before giving up.

"Are you—" he gives him a look up and down, trying to parse his expression - what he can see of it when there's a phone all up in his face, anyway - and the sincerity of his tone. God, he might actually be for real. "Are you serious? No, your face and your ass can't share the same space, sorry to burst your bubble. Spines don't work that way." There, asinine line of questioning followed. Nick gives it another second to see if he'll step out of the way, now, but he doesn't. He rolls his eyes skyward.

"It's bad. Your ass looks bad."

this thing can paint full portraits in a matter of seconds. forgive him if in his current state of blissful surprise, he fails to consider just how easily he blocks off the entrance to any others looking to reach the train station. to the untrained eye, it may appear as if will is repeating the same photo over and over, clogging up his storage ( as the notification at the top of his screen tells him, going from 50, to 55, then finally 70% full ) with what is seemingly a looped pose. in actuality, he's adjusting his arms by the millimeter, tilting his head back just so that small glint in his eyes isn't exactly in the middle of his pupil but moreso to the right.

it's a craft will has learnt of no less than ten minutes ago and he's already fully committed to learning. he doesn't even register the other's footsteps, dedicated as he is in photographing himself, and only turns to face the stranger once their voice echoes from behind.

" oh my - you could've said something! you almost scared me half to death .. " will seems startled - sounds it as well - but that doesn't stop him from going right back to taking photos, his overly pursed lips giving way only to a few more words. " does my .. y'know .. butt look good? i'm trying to get it to show up in this portrait, but i don't think the human body was meant to bend that way. "